#but it doesn’t mean we should latch onto the most accessible one and call it a day

[paladinsoflight]

RosalinaxDonovan: Decided to go the GOT incest route with these two since we already have the crazy kid who was thrown from grace.

“I love you.”

Her brother stares at her. Eyes like beacons despite the bright fire in her den, she turns away. Swallowing past the hurt, to do what needs to be done, for everyone else’s sake.

“I would hope so, I am your sister despite our differences.”

Her brother growls, rearing back, eyes seeming to blaze brighter in fury, the flames of her fire reflected as the flames of hell in his eyes.

“DONT! Don’t you dare. Don’t brush me aside Rosa when you know damn well what I mean!”

She shakes her head, eyes welling with tears, silently pleading as she stares at him but he doesn’t back down. His eyes narrow and he takes a step closer, halting when she takes a step backward.

“Donovan…please, don’t do this.”

It’s a whisper, but it’s heard. She can see the gears turning in his head, feel the fury and frustration in his breath as he thinks of the best way to move forward. She needs to get him out of here, now. She’s always been the weaker one of the two of them.

“I think you should leave.”

“ No.”

Her tears overflow, and she digs for ever ounce of courage she has as she bares her fangs.

“I wasn’t asking. Get out!”

But her brother doesn’t move, she had expected him to lose his temper, to fight her with tooth and claw and force her submission but he only stares. Eyes knowing and expectant, the eyes that haunt her dreams.

“Why are you fighting so hard Rosa? Everyone already knows, who cares if they don’t like it? All that matters-“

“BECAUSE OUR LOVE IS WRONG! It doesn’t matter what we feel! It doesn’t matter that we’re broken! Can’t you see?! What matters is our family and clan! We can’t-“

“So you do love me?”

He steps closer, eyes intent and oh so bright. His words shoot through her anger and leave her bruised. Her will crumples. They both know it isn’t a question.

“You know I do.”

The words tumble out in a sob, coated with sorrow and shame. It feels like the words are wrenched out her chest, ripped forcefully from the place she’s kept it them hidden for so long. She’s tired so tired of fighting this. So tired of the shame, of the constant worry as she hears whispers behind her back. Of not having the most important person in her life because she’s afraid of what others think if she puts one toe out of line.

He steps into her space and she feels that overwhelming shame as she tilts her head for more contact as he runs his snout along her cheek. They both shudder, both of their breaths speeding up as the tension of years finally starts to break. Just one kiss, their first, and all that she’s tried to hide and ignore comes tumbling out into the open. The croon she lets loose is loud, her sent spiking as her body calls out in longing. Her brothers scent heads to her call filling the space as he shudders against her, his nuzzling turning to nips as he moves to her ear.

“Show me Rosa, show me how much love me.”

She shudders as his breath puffs against her face, she tucks it against his own, overwhelmed.

“I can’t.”

A hissed breath, her brothers body riddled with tension as he trembles against her.

“Then let me show you instead.”

She gasps as his tongue strokes over face, quickly moving to her neck. She keens, tilting to give him better access. He growls as he steps closer, paws coming up to run along her shoulders and arms. It’s shameful how wet she can feel herself getting from just this alone, her tail lashes and her wings flap gently, bathing them both in the scent of her lust much to her embarrassment.

“Fuck! You smell so fucking good, you’ve always smelled so fucking good!”

His jaw opens latching onto her throat, gentle enough to not pierce her but tight enough that it has the desired effect. She wails, overwhelmed by sensations, her wings flaring. Her brother snarls, the smell of his desire drowning her as he leans back to collect himself, his eyes absolutely predatory. It’s embarrassing how quickly she falls to the ground, rolling to her side so her spines are out the way as she lifts her tail to present herself.

Her brother inhales sharply, glancing at her lower half before snapping his eyes to her face. He steps close to her again but to her disappointment he does not move to mount her. He gives her rapid swipes of his tongue against her face before moving onto her neck., his body still parallel to hers. She wines, tail lashing and she catches his eye.

“Donovan please!”

He smirks at her, that damn fucking smirk that always made her uncomfortable from how it made her guts churn in a way she refused to identify.

“You don’t seem so shy now.”

Heat floods her face and her brother snorts, she can’t meet his eye as she mumbles a reply.

“I’ve waited just as long as you have for this.”

His eyes go dark, it gives her pause as does his tone as he answers.

“I doubt that.”

Before she can consider the implications of his words he moves behind her, his head dipping as he sniffs her, big lungfuls that blast cool air on her wet cunt and cause her to squeak in embarrassment.

“Dono-“

Her words sputter out as a long wet tongue dips into her followed by a growl that cause her tail to lash wildly as he pushes his snout into her. As good as it feels, it’s not what she wants.

“Stop.”

He does lifting his head giving her an a confused look.

“What’s -“

“I don’t want that.”

Careful to keep her tail spines out of the way she lifts the tip to stroke the hard dripping flesh on his underside. Her brother chokes, eyes wide as she looks up at him from beneath her slitted lids.

“This..this is what I want.”

The words come out strangled, but she barely has time to feel embarrassed as her brother roars and quickly steps over her. His eyes blaze into her as he hisses through clenched teeth.

“You fucking bitch, you goddamn tease.”

Then his hips are lowering wings flattening and spreading over her as he thrusts searchingly, his cock, sliding over her rump, her thighs all while he continues to hiss at her between nips to her neck.

“Always knew you wanted to be fucked.”

And then his cock slides home with a swift thrust, hilting in one go and it causes her to screech. He pauses, perhaps thinking he’s hurt her but she rubs her neck along his panting in anticipation.

“Move!”

His head moves quick as a serpent. Jaws opening and closing around her throat with a swift bite that draws blood. She croons deeply, her whole body shaking with it as he continues to piston his hips. While there’s still that spot of shame deep in her soul another part of her rejoices, feeling like a missing piece of her has finally come home. His magic pools over her and she wails in ecstasy her own magic meeting his and combining rapidly. He unlocks his jaw from around her neck to give a another roar of his own.

She lays her head down on the ground, body rolling as Donovan continues to fuck her. He bites along her neck, leaving bleeding rivers in his wake before lifting his head to peer down at her.

“Like this Rosa? Do you like being fucked and bred by your brother?”

“Yes! Yes Donovan please!”

She doesn’t have the will to deny it. To even attempt to deny how good it feels to have her brother finally take her, to fuck her and fill her aching cunt would be impossible. She’s wanted this too long, had stewed in the shame and the disgust of it to even think of denying herself the pleasure she feels now. He lowers his head again, both of them gasping as their magic winds tighter, merging and pulling and filling as they fuck in the middle of her den.

“Youre mine Rosalina, you’ve always been mine!”

She groans her tail lashing, as she feels the beginning of her climax starting to take hold by her brother panting and quaking limbs, she guesses he feels it to. She knocks her head against his, rubbing their cheeks together as she coos in desperation.

“Donovan, Donovan, give it to me. Make me cum.”

He growls hips speeding up as he chokes out his reply.

“Always.”

And then he bites her, hard, his cock buried deep, ropes of cum warming her insides as she wails. Wings snapping out only to be blocked by her brothers legs as he hunkers over her body, hips still moving. She pants out of breath, Donovan’s teeth still buried in her neck as he continues to growl while he fills her with his seed.

‘I’ll have to take care of that later.’

She thinks to herself, ‘Don’t need an accident from this.’

[meggannn]

obviously left hand is not perfect but good lord. i feel like trying to claim its queer-baiting is almost raging that it doesn't have a easily palatable "happy" ending. the story works bc it is a tragedy. i also feel like using online modern shipping terminology is, idk detrimental or disrespectful to the text almost? idk... like so what if they don't easily slot into some "canon" romance trope, it feels like disregarding the in text connection that's there by the end of the book. ANYWAYS SORRY i just had a ???????? moment seeing that last ask.

I got the sense the people claiming it was queerbaiting were young so I didn’t want to be too harsh, and I made mistakes when I was young too and still do so I won’t judge, but queerbaiting seems like the wrong bone to pick with TLHOD. I would understand a claim of Burying Your Gays a little more, cause Estraven does die and BYG has a media history that stretches back decades, except its impact is lessoned when you’ve got a planet full of other gay characters who DID survive the story, and in fact the cishet guy (is he even het?) is vastly outnumbered by all the living gnc characters who do just fine living and raising kids long before and after he enters their lives.

if TLHOD was promoting itself as a modern day romance published in 2022, I’d understand the critique. but it wasn’t; it’s a dark political scifi fantasy and it never advertised romance. modern language doesn’t always fit historical contexts or needs and that’s fine, language and terms will always evolve, but thinking critically about the words we use and why is important, as is not jumping to the closest modern lingo we have to describe things made in an entirely different time period or literary context. not that TLHOD is so foreign to be undefinable in today’s words, and assigning modern fandom lingo to old works can be funny sometimes, but I wouldn’t take someone seriously if they walked up to me and told me a fifty-year-old book and Ursula K Le Guin, who has been dead since 2018, queerbaited them in 2022.

[archived-kin]

caught in a twin courtship

note from kin: i’m going to be honest i only really wrote this because the title is fun to say, so it isn’t as cohesive as i normally would have wanted to make it

(this is an au where the twins aren’t separated by the unknown god! instead, just their world-hopping powers were stolen, and that’s why they’re journeying to find said god - to get their powers back so that they can go home. i’ve also excluded paimon since i kind of forgot about her while writing this haha)

(this doesn’t follow canon at all since reader and the twins just kind of start wandering about after the dvalin incident rather than heading straight for liyue oops)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lumine, aether, diluc, venti, jean

pairing(s): aether/reader/lumine

warning(s): i don’t think so??

genre: fluff with a little bit sprinkling of angst

you first meet the twins in the aftermath of the stormterror battle. it isn’t a glamorous introduction by any means - it’s pretty unflattering, actually - but it definitely makes a powerful first impression.

the group - aether, lumine, venti, diluc, and jean - are on their way back to mondstadt city, making small talk here and there, but mostly just walking in silence.

then they hear a yell in the distance.

jean and lumine both drop into a battle stances, venti leaps to hide behind aether with a very unmanly squeak of fear… but diluc, who arguably should have been the most alerted by this occurrence, just gives a resigned sigh and pauses.

a split second later, a figure comes speeding up to the group. you barrel up to diluc and immediately punch him square in the stomach, yelling “why didn’t you tell me you were going after stormterror?!”

aether and venti both give matching gasps of horror at the blatant disrespect, but diluc only shakes his head and catches your fist as it goes for another blow, this one aimed at his chest, and chastises, “calm down, i left a note.”

“i left a note,” you mimic, an absolutely awful impression that has you sounding more like a mosquito than the darknight hero, “fat lot of use that is when you aren’t even telling me where you’re going!”

diluc evades another jab at his arm and firmly sets his hands on both your shoulders, effectively anchoring you to the ground. you contemplate swinging your feet at his knees and knocking him over, or maybe shocking him with your electro vision, but ultimately decide that you might as well try to preserve what little dignity you have left in front of those three people you’ve never met before

so you stop with a defeated sigh and turn to face said three people to introduce yourself

it turns out that you’re diluc’s cousin and he’s been having to baby-sit you for the last few years after your own parents left on a ‘business trip’ to snezhnaya that they’re still not back from

you’re pretty sure they’re dead, killed by the fatui, and you say as much during your introduction without even the slightest sign of distress, which is a little unsettling

lumine’s first thought is that you’re quite the interesting character, what with the casual way you treat diluc, and how you don’t seem to question whatever situation lead you to meet in the first place

aether’s first thought is holy shit, they’re cute

one twin greets you in return with a lot more enthusiasm than the other, and venti the bard wastes no time in asking whether you have access to good master diluc’s wine storage

(you’d be shocked by the audacity if you weren’t just as bad as him when it came to shamelessness)

strangely enough, the fact that aether likes you so much actually makes lumine more wary of you than she was initially

aether trusts too easily, and from experience, that usually leads to disaster - and your flippancy regarding your parents’ apparent probable deaths rather inclines her to think that you might be a very dangerous person indeed

the three of you don’t see each other for a couple of days after that - you and diluc leave for dawn winery together, while the twins depart with venti to wrap their whole situation up, and jean returns to her duties in mondstadt city

all this time, apparently unbeknownst to even himself, aether keeps finding ways to bring you up in the middle of conversation

you’d only spoken to him for a few minutes and somehow that as enough to get him absolutely fascinated

lumine would be lying if she said she wasn’t still curious about you as well, but it gets annoying after aether somehow manages to mention how ‘mysterious’ your black cloak is in the middle of a conversation about why mitachurls are able to randomly set their axes on fire

luckily for these two, they happen to run into you the very next day!

you’re in the middle of taking out a ruin guard stomping around the thousand winds temple -  a ruin guard that the twins had been meaning to take down themselves, which is why they’re here in the first place

at first they move to help you, only to stop short and watch in awe as you plunge down at the ruin guard from atop one of the enormous pillars, your polearm held steady in your grasp as your entire body seems to spark and glow with a deep purple electro energy

the sharp blade of your polearm goes clean through the top of the ruin guard’s head and shatters its core, and it sinks to the ground with a massive thud that echoes around the temple ruins, massive wooden limbs twitching and jerking as the last of your vision’s energy disperses from it

aether and lumine are basically star-struck

from there you spot them and call them over for a conversation, show them how to take apart a ruin guard’s circuits to get at the good parts, and somehow end up agreeing to journey with them across teyvat in their search for an unknown god who stole their abilities to hop from world to world as well as their apparent true power that allows them to wield all seven elements at once

the details are a little lost on you, but what you’re hearing is that you get to go on a cool adventure with a cool gal and a cool lad, so you’re pretty much all for it

diluc isn’t too happy about you up and leaving without so much as two week’s notice (partially because he has literally no friends apart from you and he’d get lonely without his little cousin bothering him all the time) but you simply tell him to deal with it and go anyway

(you do give him a big hug and promise to visit, you’re not heartless)

from then on you, aether and lumine become a dynamic trio like no other

it’s actually pretty damn spooky how well the three of you end of working together

aether and lumine had long since formed a style of fighting that meant they made up for each other’s weak spots and could attack in perfect sync, but then you come along and somehow manage to make their already pretty flawless formation even better

is it witchcraft? they honestly don’t know

considering you fit so well into their battle strategies, it follows that you’d also slot perfectly into their every day life

lumine is cautious at first, wondering if your presence would disrupt her and her brother’s long since pre-established routines, but you fit in so naturally that it’s as if you were there all long

maybe it it’s this that makes both twins slowly start falling for you - the comfort of being beside you and the familiarity that you bring are things that they struggled to find, being trapped in a world far from their own with no way to get out, and they unknowingly latch onto you like drowning men clutching lifebuoys

aether is the most obvious about his feelings - he starts waking up earlier just because he knows you do, sitting beside you as you stoke a campfire and keep watch for any approaching monsters, making quiet conversation as lumine continues sleeping. he tells you stories about his adventures in other worlds, including an encounter with a rather bigoted individual who is the reason that he keeps his hair so long while lumine’s has been cut short

he even starts taking his hair out of its braid before he goes to sleep so that he can ask you to braid it for him when he wakes up

lumine is a lot more subtle

she finds excuses to stand closer to you when, deliberately brushing her fingers against yours when handing you something. she listens far more attentively to you when you speak than anyone else, and she smiles far more in your presence, hanging onto your every word and gazing at you so intensely that it’s almost unsettling

of course, the twins notice each other’s feelings pretty easily

at first neither acknowledges it - it’d be far too messy for both to accept that they’d both fallen in love with the same person, let alone actually admit this to each other

but it gets to the point where it just isn’t ignorable anymore, and finally the twins decide to talk

it’s about as civil and sensible as they could hope for with the subject at hand, and they eventually decide to talk to you about it

and so, we come to an ultimatum. what will your choice be?

if you reject both, it’ll be hard to continue adventuring with twins who can’t look in your direction. neither resent you, of course, but the atmosphere has become so stifling that they can’t even make eye contact

it’s as if an enormous gap has opened up between the three of you. the twins are avoiding each other as well, unsure of how to handle the fact that they’re both in love with the same person and have now both been rejected by that same person. if anything, they should be becoming closer out of solidarity, but it seems that they can’t stand to be in each other’s presence as much as they can’t stand to be in yours.

the three of you still work together as seamlessly in battle as you did before, but once the final monster has been cut down and your weapons are sheathed, that connection seems to disappear again.

it’s aether who finally breaks the stalemate. he starts trying to start conversations as the three of you sit awkwardly apart from each other around a fire, and while the first few attempts end in stony silence and an awkward cough on his part, eventually you begin replying with some semblance of the humour you used to

from there things only improve - the three of you come to a silent mutual agreement to leave this behind you, and soon you’re all laughing and joking as you used to

lumine and aether both know that they cannot force you to love either of them, and they respect your choice. if anything, they’re the ones in the wrong for springing something like this on you so suddenly, and they start to feel a little guilty that they were essentially pressuring you into making a choice that you were never obligated to make

so they return to treating you as a dear friend, just as before. things are different now, of course, but they can only be grateful that you continue to travel with them and stay by their side; this situation doesn’t make them love you any less, even if you don’t love them in the same way.

if you choose lumine, aether will be understanding. the twins have been each other’s only support for longer than they can remember, and as the older brother, he’s well used to giving things up for his sister.

he’ll still be friendly and amicable, but he won’t seek you out as much as he did before. he starts braiding his hair by himself again, and stays in bed as late as he can every morning so that he doesn’t have to be face to face with you. just because he’s accepted this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

sometimes, when the sky grows dark and you and lumine have long since fallen asleep beside each other, he wonders to himself - why is it that he has to give everything to his sister? he’s given away so much, so why couldn’t the universe let him have this one thing?

but he knows, deep down, that this is nothing to do with the universe - you simply fell in love with someone that wasn’t him, his sister at that, and he’s struggling to come to terms with it.

he wants to hate you, hate lumine, hate the relationship that the two of you have formed, but he just can’t. he loves the both of you in different ways that are just as important as each other, and he can’t stand to lose either of you. he’d rather throw himself off of starsnatch cliff.

so he’ll smile and bear it, even if it’s a battle to keep himself from breaking down every time he sees the two of you lace your hands together, off in your own little word, so near and yet so far from him.

if you choose aether, lumine will become cold. at first, that is. she’s never been as empathetic as her brother, always holding grudges and developing dislike much more easily. it had taken a lot for her to open up to you in the first place, and now that you’ve rejected her, it’s going to take a while for her to return to the same camaderie with you that she had before.

lumine does not begrudge aether for being the one you chose. if anything, she’s glad - aether is always putting her first and himself second, and she’s happy that he has someone like you, who lights his eyes up in a way that she’s never seen before.

but our hearts often betray our mind, after all, and lumine can’t help but scowl and turn away every time she sees her brother wrap his arms around your waist or press a kiss to your cheek. despite her best efforts, all she can think is why? why did you have to choose him?

she can’t bring herself to hate you, though. as much as it feels like her heart is threatening to split down the middle when she sees you smile and is reminded of something that she cannot have, there is an equal joy in the fact that her brother can be with the person that he loves so dearly. if anything, the two of you deserve to be happy together.

lumine would never do anything that could take that away, and so she forces herself to accept it. it takes several days of tentative conversation and barely held back tears, but eventually the two of you seem to return to the way you were before - all friendly jabs and light-hearted banter and little jokes exchanged over crossed blades.

but lumine knows that your friendship can never be quite the same as it was before. she’ll forever be holding you at arm’s length, terrified to let you get too close lest you see how much your presence affects her. she can’t let you know how much she loves you because she will never be the one who links hands with you as you walk down a long, winding path, or the one who holds you close under a darkening sky filled with stars - because that person is aether, and she would sooner die before she takes her brother’s happiness away.

if you refuse to choose, the twins will be at a loss at what to do. they hadn’t considered this scenario - that you had somehow come to love both of them.

the confusion becomes joy soon enough, though. they realise what this means - they both love you, and you love both of them! isn’t this perfect?

neither are particularly thrilled at the concept of ‘sharing’ you with the other, so to speak, but in the end they both equally want each other to be happy as they want you to be, so the logical conclusion is that they both become your partners.

they’re not too sure how this should work, nor what sort of label to put on it, but they come to you tentatively with the idea anyway

to their joyous surprise, you agree!

and from then marks the point of no return…

aether is definitely the clingier of the two. once he realises that he’s allowed to show affection and be close to you for no particular reason, he won’t stop - it’s as if he absolutely has to be holding your hand or be standing or sitting  as close to you as physically possible. he’s always buying you souvenirs at every place you stop by, scaling trees to pick apples for you when you mention a craving for fruit, presenting you little treasures that he’s found with all the pride of a golden retriever.

lumine is a more subdued kind of partner, preferring to demonstrate her feelings with little things like making your favourite food for dinner or bringing you sprigs of flowers that she’s secretly been collecting in order to present you with them. of course, that doesn’t mean she isn’t physically affectionate at all - she presses perhaps even closer to you than aether when you sleep beside her, and somehow her hand finds yours at every opportunity she has.

the twins clash every now and then, as siblings often do, except that you’re usually caught in the middle. their arguments are little more than playful squabbles, though - things like play-fighting over who gets to hug you first after a well-fought battle, or who gets to hold your hand on the way to the next village (you have to step in and remind them that you do, in fact, have two hands)

in conclusion: why choose one when you can have both and prevent the unchosen from having endless amounts of angst?

[itsallyscorner]

Ooooh can I do positions with Sebastian Stan???

Omg hi!!!🖤 Thank you sm for the request, I hope you like it!🥰

Thank you for the requests!! And thank you for the support love! I hope you enjoy this and my other requests (which I need to do soon)!🖤🥰 @its-izzys

💌.

positions

a/n: Decided to switch it up for this one and made the song about Seb’s feelings towards the reader:)

warnings: Some smut for you filthy animals😉

Heaven sent you to me

I'm just hopin’ I don't repeat history

It has been known that Sebastian has poor judgement in romantic partners. Now, that doesn’t apply to everyone he’s dated but there are a few who were just out of line. Everyone knew he wasn’t the best at relationships. His family, friends, heck even his fans could see through the facade of his so called “girlfriends”. He could never tell the difference between someone who’s using him and someone who genuinely liked him. Sebastian was one to be intoxicated with his feelings and loses himself in the moment. Which was probably why he never found anything wrong with the ‘candid’ paparazzi pictures or the constant posting of proof that someone was with him.

You were different from all the other girls he had dated. You were like Spring to his Winter. You symbolized a new beginning for him. Like how Spring would mark the beginning of a new season with its blossoming flowers and the awakening of animals, you brought liveliness to his cold and dark life. You actually terrified him to the core. He was afraid to fall for you because you were well off on your own. In his head you didn’t need him, but he needed you. You kept the grown man on his toes and without you he was not sure how he would survive.

Unlike the other girls, he was scared to loose you. Not only were you the most loyal, selfless, kindest, and caring person he knew. But he knew you genuinely loved him for him. He knew that you could care less about the fame, his social status, or the money. You wanted him for him. You wanted him at his worst, at his best, all parts of him. And it terrifies him that he could fuck it all up in an instant and loose you completely. If that happened he wouldn’t know what to do because he’s never experienced a love like yours. Compared to the others, he wasn’t going to repeat history and make stupid decisions, this time he was going to try and not fuck it up.

Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday

Then make a lotta love on a Monday (Ah, ah)

Never need no (No), no one else, babe

’Cause I'll be

Sebastian would do anything to make you happy. Seeing that contagious smile on your face always gave him butterflies in his stomach that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Hey Sebba?” You asked as you knocked on the wall of his home office one day. Sebastian’s eyes leave the script he had been reading for the past hour and a half as he turned to your figure leaning against the doorframe. You were cladded in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of those biker shorts that made your bum look incredible.

“How was your nap, draga?” He was about to get up from his swivel chair when you motioned for him to stay. You settled yourself onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Resting your cheek against his head you began to play with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

“It was good. Except someone wasn’t there when I woke up.” You softly answered as Sebastian pressed light kisses along your neck.

“The bed was cold without you.” You frowned against his hair. The scent of his shampoo filling up your senses.

“I’m sorry, I got excited when the script came and I couldn’t help myself.” He apologized as his squeezed your hips.

“Yeah, I know.” You chuckled as you leaned back to look down at him. He stared up at you with those ocean eyes that you just wanted to constantly dive into.

“Oh! I forgot to ask you.” You jumped in his lap as you remembered the text your mother had sent you earlier that morning. Sebastian nods at you, “What’s up?”

He saw how you slightly shrunk into your body and how your arms unwrapped around him so you can fiddle with your fingers. A little tic you had when you were either nervous or embarrassed. Sebastian comfortingly pressed his large warm hand against your back as the other took one of your hands into his.

“So...um. My mom’s birthday is during the weekend and we’re planning on having a dinner party with the family.” You started as you looked at your and Sebastian’s connected hands.

“My mom said she’d like it if you came along. She wants to finally meet you and she thinks the rest of the family would too.” You finished as you glanced up at him.

You were quick to tell him that it was his choice. You didn’t want to pressure him into suddenly meeting your family. Though it would be nice for him to finally meet everyone, you had to respect whether he was ready or not.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’d love to come!” He immediately agreed, a wide smile on his face that made the sides of his eyes crinkle. Your head snaps up to him in shock. You were expecting to find a playful glint in his eyes but it was nothing but sincerity and joy.

“Wait, you want to meet my family?”

“Of course I do, draga. It’s your family we’re talking about! They’re the most important people in your life and it’d be an honor to meet all of them.” He explained as he gripped both of your hands. Sebastian felt himself smile when he saw the corners of your lips raise to your cheeks.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Seb. Thank you!” You excitedly wrapped your arms around him again pulling him into a suffocating hug. You felt his chest vibrate against yours as he chuckled.

He hummed as he savored the feeling of your limbs wrapped around him and how elated he felt when you were around him. Wrapping his arms around your figure he mumbled into your ear, “Plus, I should finally thank your parents for creating the love of my life.”

Switchin' them positions for you

Cookin' in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom

I'm in the Olympics, way I'm jumpin' through hoops

Know my love infinite, nothin’ I wouldn’t do

That I won't do, switchin’ for you

The aroma of spices lingered around the house after the delicious dinner Seb had cooked. You guys decided to have an at home date night since the two of you weren’t in the mood to get all dressed up for a restaurant. Plus Sebastian had just gotten back from the airport after months on end of filming in Atlanta.

The two of you were now out on the balcony of your shared apartment sipping on glasses of wine. The two of you looked out towards the city as you leaned against Sebastian’s chest. There wasn’t much talking, just the sounds of the city and each other’s breathing.

“Thank you for dinner. Although, it should’ve been me cooking for you, because you literally just came back from filming.” You turn around in his arms as you admire the man in front of you.

“No, I wanted to cook for you. You’ve been so understanding with my job and the hectic schedules. Plus we had to be apart for so long, I owe you.” Sebastian explained as he moved a strand of hair from your face.

You shook your head at him, “You don’t owe me anything, Seb. You’re just doing your job and I understand that.”

“No, I do. I get that we had our night time calls and FaceTime sessions but it just isn’t the same as being in person with you.” He started.

“You’ve been so supportive and patient with me. While I’ve left you waiting here for so long.” He shook his head at himself before looking down at you. His blue eyes now dark with longing and lust. He leaned down to brush his nose against yours. His plush lips leaving a lingering kiss on your own.

“Let me take care of you, (y/n).”

Perfect, perfect

You're too good to be true (You're too good to be true)

But I get tired of runnin', fuck it

Now, I’m runnin' with you (With you)

Sebastian laid you down gently on the cool comforter of the bedroom. The atmosphere around you two felt heavy as your lips clashed together with desperation and passion. Though the months of not seeing each other were miserable, it began to all feel worth it when you felt his touch for the first time again.

Your hands roamed his body, only stopping when they were hovering over his sweatpants, where a bulge was starting to form. Sebastian pulled away from your lips and took your hand, placing it to rest along his shoulder.

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you, I just want to focus on you.” His voice was soft and quiet compared to the events that were about to go down between you two.

He gazed down at you for a moment before his palm came up to rest against your cheek. He latched his lips onto yours, nipping at your bottom lips to grant his tongue access into your mouth. Your tongues poked and licked against each other. The heat below you was getting hotter and hotter, making your heartbeat race and a thin layer of sweat to form on your body.

Sebastian moved on to kiss along your jaw and neck. He stopped at your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin until a mark began to form. He helped you take your shirt off, throwing it aside to land on the floor. He watched as your breasts bounced in your red lace bra as you landed on your back again. He sucked in his breath as he looked at you through hooded eyes.

“Take this off, Sebby.” You voice was low with sultry as your nails teasingly dragged on his abs. He yanked his shirt off and threw it to the side. He dived down to claim your lips again, his hands running down to grip your thighs and wrap them around his torso. He ground down on you causing you to softly moan as his clothed crotch pressed down on your mound.

His mouth teased your nipples through your bra. He grazed his teeth along the lace material before sucking on your clothed nipple. He repeated the same action on your other nipple. You pulled on his soft hair as you watched him concentrate on pleasuring you. Your nipples were now peaking against the lace, wanting to be freed from the material. One of his hands flatten on your back and fiddle with the bra until it comes undone. His warm tongue attaches to your breast as soon as they’re exposed, giving them both the attention they needed.

He helps you take your shorts off before removing his sweats. He shifts himself so he’s laying in between your legs with your soaking heat in front of him. You feel his breath against your core causing goosebumps to form on your arms and legs.

“Draga I could smell you all the way here. I’ve been making you wait for too long, huh?” His voice teased you with hints of dominance. He enjoyed the effects he had on you. The way you instantly opened your legs for him and how he was the only one who could make you dripping wet without even doing anything.

You nodded against the pillow and looked down at him. A smirk was on his lips as his nose swiped along your clothed slit. He pressed a searing kiss above your mound as his eyes remained connected to yours.

“Who made you this wet, baby?” He asked huskily against your heat. He felt you clench around nothing as he kissed the wet lace that covered your pussy.

“You did, Seb.” You breathed out.

“Damn right I did.” He pulled your panties off you, the cold air meeting your heat. His mouth was agape as he was met with your heat glistening with arousal. He moaned at the sight and stuffed his face between your thighs. You let out a moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

His tongue flattened against your folds until he found your bud. His mouth latched onto it, sucking and licking at your clit. You emitted a moan, your back arching, as his mouth helped release the tension that was building up in you. He hummed in approval as he brought his fingers to spread your wetness through your folds. His finger teased your entrance before it smoothly slipped in. Sebastian groaned as he felt you clench down on his finger. He moved his finger in and out until he felt you ease up around him. He added a second finger stretching you out a bit more. He made a come hither motion with his fingers as they rubbed against your walls. When his fingers began hitting a familiar spongy area, your toes curled as you hips rutted against him.

He wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you down. You were a mess above him. One of your hands gripping the sheets as the other pulled on his hair. Your head was thrown back, your hair sticking to your face as you moaned at the immense pleasure Sebastian was giving you.

“I can feel you. C’mon baby, cum on my fingers.” He rasped out before his tongue flicked rapidly at your bud. Your knees had came up to your chest as the tension in your body had reached a peak. With the harsh and fast movements from his tongue and fingers, you came with a loud choking moan as your body trembled above him. Your cum spilling all over his hand. Sebastian licked you clean as you came down from your high. He kissed your thighs before coming up to rest his forehead against yours.

“I missed the taste of you. Missed you so much.” He muttered as he licked his fingers. He left some of your cum on his fingers so you can have a taste of yourself. You sucked on his fingers until they were clean of your juice.

Sebastian pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as he lined himself up with you. One hand interlocked with yours while the other led his cock into your sensitive entrance.

“Te iubesc.” He said as he pushed himself into you. Your breath hitched as your walls hugged onto his length. You were filled with him to the brim. You felt the veins along his length and the weight of him in you.

“Si eu te iubesc.” You whimpered as he pushed even deeper into you. His eyes intensely locked onto yours as his hips rocked back and forth. His cock pushing in and out of you. He was dizzy with the feeling of you around him. You were like a drug and he was addicted to you. Everything about you was perfect. He fit into you like a puzzle piece, like you were meant for him, and he didn’t need anyone else. Just you.

This some shit that I usually don't do (Yeah)

But for you, I kinda, kinda want to (Mmm)

'Cause you're down for me and I'm down too

Sebastian would do anything for you. If he could, he would take you around the world to show you new places that you’ve been dreaming of visiting. He wasn’t afraid to show you off. Of course, he was private when it came to your relationship, but when he had the chance to show you off he always took it. He was proud to take you to premieres and introduce you to his friends and co-stars. Everyone could see how deeply in love he was with you. They’ve never seen him so entranced with someone. From the way he looked at you to how his hand was always protectively on you.

Sebastian thanked his lucky stars as he watched you lean against the balcony railing of the hotel you two were staying at in Paris. You were watching the city below you as the wind blew against your hair. The sun shined on you enhancing your natural glow. You looked so relaxed and carefree as if you’ve never had experience a day of stress in your life. He saw a small smile on your face as your fingers skimmed the rail.

You turned around to see Sebastian sitting on a chair inside the bedroom. He was staring at you, a dreamy look on his face. You smiled at him and giggled.

“Get over here and look at the city with me.” You motioned for him to come over as you held your hand out for him. He got up and took your hand, bringing it up to press a kiss on your knuckles. You turned around to lean against his chest as his buff arms wrapped around your figure. His head rested on your shoulder, pressing kisses against the bare skin every few minutes.

He could stay there for eternity. You in his arms as you both silently watched the hues of pink, purple, and orange take over the sky in Paris. You were all he needed, it didn’t matter where he was, he just needed to have you with him.

draga ~ darling

te iubesc ~ I love you

si eu te iubesc ~ I love you too 

[scrawnytreedemon]

Shit I’ve Been Winding Up For A Long Time Now But Am Very Aware Will Probably Hold No Relevance Should I Actually Go Into This More--

This is about Bhunivelze.

I.

You know, when I was chilling out, on my bed, that evening on that half term in early June, deciding to check up on ClementJ64′s FF retrospective because-- Hey! It’s been awhile, I wonder if he’s got around to doing the final bit of the FFXIII saga --You know, I was there, chilling, just for a laff. Just a laff.

The rest of that week was spent spiralling into a hyperfixation I absolutely did not anticipate in any way, shape, or form, because the way they introduced that character was “wwhdhfjjhHJDFJKHKJHW H A T??”

That retrospective and a good amount of wiki-scrounging is all I have as a basis for this. This is not a coherent character analysis-- Though I might tag it as that for ease of access. This is not, by any means, the thoughts of someone deeply familiar with FFXIII on the whole beyond plot synopses and overarching themes.

I don’t think I’m brave enough for that.

Reading the vast yet surface-deep lore on those wiki pages on my birthday while in a delirious state of mind was enough to make me somewhat nauseous.

Do you think I’m going to go through all of that in real time?

(Someday, someday.)

Ugh, I don’t know how to begin, but let us, I guess. I’d recommend you read this church-mime-demiurge’s FF Wiki page if you want the same level of base-knowledge I had, and maybe the aformentioned retrospective if you want the experience, because I don’t think I have the wherewithal to get into all of that from the bottom-up.

I am also, so, so fucking sorry for any remaining FFXIII fans in advance. There is like, a good chance I may be butchering the characterisation completely, so bear with me here.

With that... we begin?

Where do we even start with this guy?

How on earth to you begin to explain the absolute monolith you’ve constructed from crumbs of a Guy, some material no doubt spliced in from the Pale King, Sephiroth, y o u r  o w n  G o d  O C and other characters, and the mountains of religious trauma you carry around at all times that is probably the only reason you’ve been able to latch on as hard as you did?

I’m going to try.

What gets me, in summary, about Bhunivelze is how he’s a prime example of how love and concern can become deadly forces if in the wrong hands. His first acquainting with human emotion was by deceiving and possessing Hope, reverting his body to a teenage state, and planning to live among humanity through him. He sees human sorrow and suffering, and decides that, to End This(because it must be ended, you see) he’s going to destroy all the souls of the deceased that make up the Chaos that’s been eating this world for the past five-hundred years so they all forget and Are Happy. :).

Capital G God here hasn’t been present for the vast part of human history because he’s hidden himself away from Everything due to paranoia from killing his own mother and throwing her body into the Cosmic Basement, THEN creating the beings that would come to create humanity and OTHER beings because he didn’t have the keys to the cosmic basement. And also he believes death is a thing because she’d’ve somehow cursed all things to pass(including him) out of Spite.

Which explains why he’s so fucking averse to it and anything to do with it.

Bhunivelze, to put it lightly, is Shit at stepping into others’ shoes and Getting their experiences-- All the FalCie in FFXIII are, but him especially. It’s clear(again, in the f u c k i n g JP--) that he makes attempts to sympathise with them and does what he can to help, but it’s with such a loftiness and a complete inability to Understand why anyone would want grief, The Worst Fucking Experience In Existence, and even less why they’d be willing to Go Up Against Him And HisThe New Perfect World just for it-- And what would it matter, anyway, forgetting their loved ones. It’s not like you can grieve lost memories, right?

Right.

It reminds me of when at the end of the story of Job in the Bible, where, after putting this man through hell on earth, God rewards Job by giving him ten new children to make up for the ones that he lost. I. And that’s fucked! Nothing can replace the sheer uniqueness of each individual person you loved so dearly! But if you were a nigh-omnipotent deity high and mighty, with a cursory, almost mechanical knowledge on the functionings of the human psyche, that would seem adequete; enough.

Bhunivelze is doing that on a cosmic level.

I now want to get onto the romance: that being, his affections for Lightning. I don’t know how much I’m going to say, but it’ll probably be alot. It’s something that hits very close to home.

There is this... thing, within certain branches of Christianity, perhaps even in those of various Abrahamic faiths, where God’s love is posited to be the love-- The ultimate, most-fulfilling, all-encompassing love you could ever imagine --Because, well, he is love, so the story goes, and so often the best way to convey that is through the imagery of...

Marriage.

Giving up yourself so completely, to serve, to be the Bride; to be bound by him for all eternity; and for there to be no higher bliss than this.

This angle is pushed on young girls and women the most; from the mere parallels to the woman’s role in marriage, all the way down to downright-horrifying ultra-Evangelical purity pacts. With men, God is your dad, your best bud and confidant, your boss, your king, your this, your that, and the ‘marriage‘ as it were is relegated to a sort of half-thought; a metaphor.

For me, God was an attempt at all that, and my arranged groom.

(It was almost incestuous; was incestuous, that my own Divine Father would reach for my hand in marriage.)

Bhunivelze experiences Emotions™ for the first time through Hope, experiences Hope’s sheer overwhelming admiration for Lighting(whether there were any baby-crush feelings mixed in, I can’t say), and promptly falls into a nigh-romantic obsession with Lightning, deciding that she will be Etro(his all-but daughter)’s replacement, will be his Goddess of Death to-be-- He even calls her as such, before the final boss-battle--

...In the JP.

What happened in localisation, probably due to a number of factors, all the way back in early 2014, was that everything emotionally challenging about Bhunivelze was scraped off, like it was extra fat, and tossed aside, leaving us with the bland, clichéd shell of a foe-god we’ve seen time and time again. And I mean everything. I mean his very love for humanity; the fact his ploy was, in his eyes, to save them. Because if they’d left that all on, then it would raise the question of even if there was such a seemingly pure, all-knowing, loving being hell-bent on setting things “straight,“ would they truly be unquestionable? Would we have the right to fight for our humanity in the face of the Creator of the Universe?

To reject a love so personal?

That’s what gets me about FFXIII’s tackling of God, no matter how hackneyed and poorly-executed. It’s personal.

It’s from a feminine experience.

I know that terming is... vague, and problematic, but the way Christianity and much of the video game industry handle femininity itself is weird and problematic, so as it stands, I’ll have to simplify it. Apologies.

What sets FFXIII’s Let’s Kill God™ plot aside from most JRPG Let’s Kill God™ plots is that with our protagonist being a woman, and one who is very in touch with her femininity alongside her sheer strength; often, in these stories, God is reduced to Yet Another Foe, expected or unexpected, and you are tasked with taking him down unquestioningly for the Good of Mankind-- You will fight God, because you are right to, and you will go man-to-man-to-however-many-men you decide to bring along for the bloodbath.

And that just, doesn’t speak to me.

Even as an Extian.

Especially as an Extian. And an AFAB one with a deeply complicated experience with my gender, at that.

Leaving Christianity was painful. Questioning God was painful. Coming to terms with the fact that I had been mentally, emotionally, and spiritually traumatised under the guise of All-Encompassing Love was so, so fucking painful. I had been taught since I was five years old to devote myself to him, spent my life desperate to feel something, anything, to stay connected because I just, I never could Feel It on a deeper level, never could Give Up Myself, all I was, couldn’t Die A Spiritual Death And Be Reborn As His Eager Vessel, thus deeming myself to be worthless and a broken vessel for years and years on end... And for all that to have been... Nothing.

Lightning is hollowed out, the shards of her dead sister ripped from her in-stasis, leaving her emotionally numb for the majority of the game, Bhunivelze sweeps it under the rug, pretends he’ll perform a miracle and return Serah to life in exchange for her compliance, then sends her on her way to do his work, all the while knowing he’s going to pull said-rug from under her and elevate her such dizzying heights in the aftermath--

That he’ll deny her humanity.

Sand down all the rough edges that make her her, and polish her up afterwards, gild her as he is gilded, make her a Goddess.

And he’ll do it all because he loves her.

You can’t fight God like you can everything else. To fight It is the fight Existence Itself; FFXIII even conveys that by making Bhunivelze’s model part of the arena; it’s baked into the fabric of the game, no matter how minute.

While Lightning Returns is far from perfect in its execution of this concept, and that in itself makes me wince, not even taking into account the horribly botched excuse for a localisation Bhunivelze endured, it speaks to me more than anything else I’ve seen so far.

And it’s helped uncover some things within me. Helped me untangle them, just a little more.

So, yeah. I have alot of Thoughts on Bhunivelze, I want to share them, and I’m kinda really sad I have no one but my currently-absent friend Vee to share them with. I could get into alot more, like his very Fucked relationship with familial bonds, and how Lightning’s role as saviour so deeply parallels the overwhelming panic and never-ending guilt of Evangelical proselytisation, but I think I’ll leave those for another time.

In short, Bhunivelze is the epitome of Divine Love gone deeply wrong; on all fronts.

And if all of that isn’t enough to intrigue you, then, in Vee’s words, Lightning and Velze are literally canon endgame Sefikura lmaOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

You have to be quiet

pairing: Jimin x female reader (guest star Hoseok)

genre: smut, established relationship au

word count: 3.7k  | reading time: 20 min

summary:  After all the boys have gone to sleep and your boyfriend is acting very needy, you decide to sleep over with the condition that you won’t have sex. Since Hoseok is sleeping in the same room. But honestly, that’s not going to stop Jimin…

warnings: dom!Jimin, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, they’re fucking next to a sleeping Hoseok yall, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex (stay safe guys), creampie, dirty talk, name-calling, explicit language, marking, slight gagging (with his hand), vocal sex but they’re trying to be quiet, just porn with slight plot

Masterlist  |  Read on AO3

Jimin had insisted you watched a movie together, even though work and dinner had taken too long and it was already past 11 when you started it. All the boys had gone to sleep and even your eyes seemed to be blinking too slowly from fatigue near the end. But your boyfriend didn’t seem to share your sleepiness. You were cuddled up to his side and his left hand had somehow found its way on your left breast, under your shirt, massaging you slowly.

“They’re all asleep, baby,” Jimin answered as if he had read your mind when you glanced over your shoulder.

“Doesn’t mean we can do this here,” you murmured. But you didn’t exactly stop him, he wasn’t doing anything too dangerous. Until his right hand started traveling up your thigh. “Just pay attention to the movie, Jimin,” you mumbled and held his hand, intertwining your fingers.

“Yes, ma'am,” he teased you with a smile. His eyes were back on the screen, maybe for three whole minutes, before he started kissing down your neck. His hot breath made you whimper, giving him the consent to continue when in reality your anxiety was spiking.

“Jimin,” you meant to groan his name, but it didn’t come out exactly like that. He stopped momentarily and looked you in the eyes. His were wide and dark, his lips slightly parted, his eyebrows raised in anticipation of your next complaint with smugness. But you couldn’t complain. You never could, not when he gave you that look. So you just sighed, biting your lip and kept on watching the movie. Letting his hands travel all over your body like a little kid who had been granted access to the cookie jar. He seemed so excited, maybe a little too excited to be groping you as if you were made of dough, in a room where anyone could walk in.

Towards the end of the movie, and since no other member had interrupted you yet, you gave into his antics and kissed him back. Jimin all but devoured your lips when they touched his. He quickly pulled you over him so you could straddle his lap, the movie long forgotten, his hands slipping under your shirt to touch your bare, hot skin. You were hesitant, opening your eyes now and then to make sure you were still alone, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. The end credits started rolling behind you and you were bold enough to move closer, flashing yourself on Jimin’s body. He moaned into your mouth right when you felt his hard cock pushing on your crotch through his clothes. You had realized he was needy the whole time, but you hadn’t realized exactly how excited he’d gotten himself.

You pushed back to look at him. His full lips looked fuller, red and glistening, his hair slightly messy but you hadn’t even noticed when you had dipped your fingers in it. And he looked up at you in the way you recognized very well; the way he looks at you when he’s turned on beyond repair.

“The movie is over… we should go to sleep,” you whispered cautiously. Here you had your boyfriend fucking you with just his eyes and you were unsure of how to act.

“Yeah��� yeah, we should,” he quickly replied, his face beaming with a bright smile. Which is when it hit you that you two meant “sleep” in different ways.

“Okay… maybe I should go home then?”

His smile had never turned into a frown so quickly. “What? No! Why would you leave now?”

“What, you want me to sleep here?” you asked looking around you. You had nothing against the boys’ dorm; in fact, you spent most of your shared time there. It was just that when it came to actual sleeping, your boyfriend and you both preferred the more private setting of your apartment. Plus, you knew exactly what he was up to, and you couldn’t exactly do that here since he shared a room with Hoseok.

“Yes, obviously,” he whined, clutching onto you tighter. “It’s like 1 am, baby, I can’t let you go alone this late.”

You pressed your lips into a pout. “Then come with me?” To drive your point home, you ground down on his erection gently. Make it harder for him to say no. But he held your hips.

“Babe, let’s just sleep here, okay? It’s too late to go to your place. Hobi hyung is not going to have any problem with you staying over, I promise.” To drive his point home, he buried his face in your bust and started planting kisses on your neckline and the swell of your breasts.

Your pout intensified. “And we’ll just sleep?”

Jimin gave you a half-smirk. “Of course,” he mumbled and helped both of you get up.

You held him back before he could sprint to his room. “Just sleep?” He looked at you without replying right away. “We can’t do anything with Hoseok in the room, Jimin. You know I can’t do that.” You knew it was almost insane of you to be asking him that when he was already so hard and ready. To be honest, you weren’t sure even if you would be able to keep your hands to yourself. But you couldn’t exactly let it happen that easily.

To your surprise, Jimin gave you a soft, reassuring smile. “Don’t worry babe. I just want to cuddle you,” he said lovingly. You almost fell for it, you would have, if his hard-on wasn’t still so visible through his sweatpants.

Maybe you connived. You let yourself be guided to his room, where he opened the door as quietly as he could, to reveal a dark space filled only by Hoseok’s light snores. Jimin sat on his bed and looked at you with a suspiciously innocent smile. You stood before him, your eyes going back and forth from your boyfriend to the other member’s back that slowly rose and fell at the other side of the room. He seemed to be sleeping very deeply, not even slightly aware of your arrival. That calmed you down a bit.

“Will you give me some pajamas?” you whispered.

Jimin nodded and got up. You kept your stare on Hoseok’s sleeping form, almost paranoid that he could hear everything, even when there was nothing to hear. But Jimin didn’t seem too concerned. He opened his drawers with no caution not to be too loud, selecting his favorite Chimmy pajamas and bringing them to his bed. He kept a protective hand over them as if he didn’t want to let you have them, even when you reached for them.

“Well, take off your clothes, then.” He spoke lowly but didn’t whisper. It made you cower and immediately make sure he hadn’t woken up his hyung. But he never looked back. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge that his friend was in his bed only a few meters away from them. Jimin kept his fierce gaze on you, his hand coming up to rub his bottom lip like he was expecting a show out of your undressing.

You pressed your lips together as well as your thighs. Hoseok or not, Jimin looked so hot when he was acting like that. But somebody had to be the voice of reason, so you looked away pretending to be unaffected, and pulled your shirt off. Your skin was so hot it felt like you released a heatwave with you freeing it. Checking the two men in the room, neither had changed positions at all. You moved your hands behind your back and undid your bra, letting it fall on the floor. Then you stretched out your hand. You weren’t going to continue until you had the top of the pajama on. You thought.

Jimin got up, his fingers carefully touching over your tummy and your love handles. He squeezed you and brought you closer to his body. You hid like that, behind his slightly bigger than yours frame, and let him kiss you. His kiss was more gentle than before, slower, but deeper. His tongue brushed against yours and you felt your stomach flip, pressing yourself closer to him. You enjoyed this dangerous, almost illicit kiss from your boyfriend more than you expected, or cared to admit. He released your lips only to latch onto your neck, and you let out a gasp, for which you immediately scolded yourself mentally. You needed to keep quiet, yet Jimin was doing anything but that, sucking on your neck with lustful, wet noises filling the room. You had your eyes fixed on the man sleeping and it felt foreign, how another man was kissing you, and another in your head.

“Jimin,” you moaned lightly, almost as if to remind yourself who was marking you. He hummed in response. “Pa-pajamas,” you whispered, like a fool, still believing he would let you get dressed.

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmured, but instead of letting go of you, he moved his mouth lower. Left open-mouthed kisses all along your collarbone as his hands both moved to wrap around one of your breasts each, squeezing them with fervor. His tongue sprung out and licked a long stripe at the center of your chest. You wrapped your fingers in his hair and pulled, trying to get him off you, which only made him hornier. He growled and bit down on your right breast, making you gasp again. He held you forcefully now, almost painfully, leaving no chance to escape, as his mouth attacked your right nipple.

“Ji-Jimin…” you moaned. You felt his tongue lap at you like a dog drinking water, his teeth grazing your sensitive bud and sucking as if he was trying to make you leak. He always loved playing with your boobs, but he had never been so aggressive about it. Your hold on him got tighter. He let you go finally, but only to move to the other nipple, copying his assault exactly. You bit your lip trying to keep quiet, while your eyes checked on Hoseok once again. You could no longer hear his breathing due to Jimin munching on you so sloppily, but you trusted he hadn’t woken up yet. You felt your cheeks burn at the thought of what would happen if he did, turned around to find you shirtless and a Jimin clasped onto you for dear life.

“Jimin we shouldn't…” you mumbled again. He surprisingly stopped, and for a moment you thought he would agree with you as he looked up into your eyes. But the little heathen just smirked and lowered to his knees.

“I’m not doing anything…” he said to vex you. And very casually unbuttoned your pants, eyes still on you.

You took a step back, contemplated what to do next before you pulled your pants down and threw them away. But you didn’t do it for him. No, you stayed just out of reach, frowning down at him. He was becoming insufferable. Jimin stayed there, on his knees, waiting for you to give in. He ran a hand through his hair and licked his lips, his smirk never leaving his face. What a tease.

“How can you be so cool about this?” you bowed your head and whispered at him angrily. “Hoseok is right. There.”

It was like he didn’t hear a thing. He never looked back, he never wavered. No, he just grabbed your wrist before you could lean back away and pulled you closer. Close enough to wrap both arms around your thighs and smile up at you, bragging for his victory.

“Jimin! No, let me get dressed,” you pleaded, your voice cracking, almost getting a little too loud. You put your hands on his shoulders, pushing yourself back and away from him, but his grip was too strong. He chuckled.

“Babe, come on…” he said loudly enough for you too frantically shush him. Your head raised to check on Hoseok, but he still hadn’t moved at all. When you looked back down, Jimin had let his long tongue snake out between his swollen lips in search of your clothed center that was right in front of him. You gulped at the sight. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t plead, not with words at least. But he did look up at you, his tongue stretched out and inching closer with every passing moment until you could feel his hot breath hitting your panties.

“S-shit…” you cursed, sucking in a breath the moment the tip of his tongue touched you. And you caved. You buried your fingernails in his shoulders as he managed to get close enough to push the whole surface of his tongue on you. And you whimpered. Your lace panties did very little in covering you up, instead making the friction even worse, as Jimin french kissed your cunt over them. When he’d gotten them too wet -or maybe that was on you- he pushed the fabric to the side and licked your naked clit.

“Ah!” you called, immediately putting a hand over your mouth to silence yourself.

“Shh, baby, you have to keep quiet,” Jimin dared to mock. Right before he unceremoniously pushed your panties completely off of you. He tapped on the side of your knees. “Open,” he commanded, and you wasted no time.

His mouth was back on you immediately, sucking you and making wet, loud noises that you barely cared about anymore. He bit and suckled on your clit, then teased your entrance. His plump lips ate up your sides before you felt his tongue slip inside you. You cursed under your breath. But just as you put your hands behind his head to push him closer, he moved away. Jimin sucked at your inner thigh until he left a hickey, and you were just trying your best not to make any noises. But even if you didn’t, your short breaths were loud enough. Your eyes had rolled to the back of your head and all you cared about was getting to your high as Jimin started giving your clit some kitten licks.

After he squeezed your thighs a couple of times, he moved his hand to your pussy. Without stopping one bit, and with no warning, you felt two of his fingers push right inside of you.

“Ah- fuck!” you cried and it very clearly echoed to the end of the room.

Suddenly, you opened your eyes wide, almost having just remembered you weren’t alone. And Hoseok was still there, facing away. But you couldn’t hear his light snoring.

Jimin didn’t seem to get what was happening right away, as he started pumping his fingers in and out of you, angling them to hit that soft spot inside you, while he vigorously sucked on your clit. It felt so good, it almost made you say fuck it and let him keep going. A moan left your mouth, then a growl, and then you were pulling Jimin’s hair so hard you managed to break him off of you.

“Ah- Ji-” you started very quietly, but froze when you saw from the corner of your eyes Hoseok moving. Your mouth hung open and you just stared at Jimin with a pale face, who was looking at you confused. All you heard was a sigh. Jimin’s eyes flew to the side, as if he had finally acknowledged the other man’s presence, but was still not interested enough to look back. You, on the other hand, couldn’t feel your legs. You stayed there, not moving, not breathing, as if that way he wouldn’t see you. And you waited for something, anything.

But there was silence. You gulped and dared to turn your look towards Hoseok’s side. He had turned around and was facing you. His face right into your direction. Like he was staring at you. But it was too dark to be able to see his face. You couldn’t understand, you couldn’t see if his eyes were open or closed. Your heart was banging and it was the only thing you could hear as you were waiting for Hoseok to say something. And if he didn’t any time soon, you’d probably faint since you hadn’t breathed at all.

But then you heard his slight snoring. The relief that washed over you made your legs completely give out. Jimin held you as you fell in his arms, barely not sobbing. Hoseok’s snoring quickly went back to being frequent and loud, an indication he had never woken up but was simply turning in his sleep. And all of a sudden, all the anxiety turned into something else, and you almost laughed. Instead, you grabbed your boyfriend and you kissed him passionately. Like this was your last chance to.

“Shit- baby…” Jimin growled under his breath, already undressing. “Get in the bed,” he ordered and you were happily under the covers in a split second. And the moment he got in with you, you felt safe for the first time that night. Those covers shielded you and protected you. And he was there with you.

Jimin didn’t waste any time before kissing you again, his hand traveling to your pussy to rub quick circles on your clit. You moaned boldly. Grabbed his forearm to push him closer and bit down on his lip hungrily. Beforehand, you worried about waking Hoseok up. Now there was only one thing in your mind.

“Fuck, Jimin, I want you inside me…” you whined and he mimicked you, dipping one finger inside of you real quick to check if you were still wet. And you were, a lot.

“Look how wet you are…” he murmured, taking out his finger in a harsh way that allowed him to collect your juices. And he smeared them all on his dick as he pumped himself lazily a couple of times. “You be quiet, right love? You can be quiet for me?” He asked as he positioned himself at your entrance. He rubbed the head of his dick on you a couple of times before you slapped his arms.

“Don’t tease, Jimin!”

And he didn’t. Pushed into you nice and slow, until he bottomed out. Your chest vibrated with a long breath you let out when you finally felt full, complete, as if Jimin’s dick was the only thing you needed this whole time to calm you down. He leaned down and kissed you as he started moving. He didn’t move too fast, nor too hard, yet every touch felt like it set you on fire, already so frustrated from being so close to your climax but missing it. You had your mouth wide open while Jimin held the top of your head and stared into your eyes which couldn’t focus on him. He was so content just to see that face of utter bliss you were making just by feeling him inside you. A little bit smug, too.

“Look at you. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?” Jimin whispered in your ear. “Letting me fuck you even when Hoseok is sleeping right next to us.” You moaned, whined a complaint of some sort, silence being very hard to achieve while Jimin was picking up his pace. “Yeah, I bet you liked almost being caught, didn’t you?” he taunted, biting the skin right under your ear.

“Ah, sh-…” you gasped, your hips rising involuntarily to meet his thrusts.

Jimin pushed you down again, then grabbed your jaw with his other hand and forced you to look at him. “I told you to be quiet, love. You don’t wanna wake him up, do you?” With his last words, he thrust particularly hard to get a definite reaction from you. Which he did, as you chocked out a moan again, your eyes shutting and your nails digging at his back. “Do you?” he repeated. “Is that what you really what, hm? Is that why you keep moaning like a whore, so that he can hear you?”

You desperately shook your head, biting your lip to stop any more sounds from coming out. Jimin halted his assault so that he could grab your legs and raise them over both his shoulders. Before you could even adjust to the new position, he forced himself deep inside you, hitting your cervix. Which made you scream.

“Shh- fuck-” Jimin growled and suddenly covered your mouth with his hand. It only took the stress of keeping quiet off of you; now you could moan with every thrust. And you did, your voice coming muffled through his fingers, more and more high pitched the closer you got to your high. “Shh, shit- what- You wanna wake up the whole house?” Jimin snarled, taking off his hand and replacing it with his mouth. Probably to silence himself more than you, as he was getting close too.

You desperately pushed your tongue deep as he did the same, almost gagging on your kiss. You heard him moan into your kiss and felt his thrust getting sloppier, so you reached down to rub your clit. Jimin suddenly pulled back, releasing your mouth but covering it up again with his right hand. His left one moved down and intertwined with yours on your clit, doubling the effort and making you go twice as fast.

“Come for me, baby. But not too loudly, yeah? Only I want to hear your pretty moans. They’re mine, yeah?”

And right then, you were spasming so hard your knees hit your chest, your head was thrown back, your neck straining with an effort not to scream, while your hips met Jimin’s last thrust as he came inside you. You were still spasming and riding your high when he pulled your face down and devoured your mouth.

You had a tiny memory gap, the next thing you remember is Jimin peppering kisses all over your face and smiling at you gently while stroking your hair. You smiled back at him, trying to catch your breath.

“You okay, baby?” he asked gently.

You kissed him. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too. So much.”

He rested his forehead on yours, caressing you for a little while longer, and you started playing with the back of his hair too. He looked so pretty, you thought, sweaty and flustered like that. You closed your eyes to fully enjoy this perfect moment, where you only felt happiness and fulfillment until somebody ruined it completely.

“So, are you two done?”

[rataltouille]

BONFIRE, BONFIRE!: A COLLECTION OF FLASH FICTION + POETRY

so i’ve decided to compile all twenty [these will be split into two so that the post isn’t super long] of the writing pieces i’ve done for my random celebration into one post so that it’s easier to read / access share!! you can also find it here, all put into one work, on wattpad, because i feel nostalgic about that website and decided to just post it!!

NOTE: i know that this shouldn't need to be said, but these 20 pieces belong to me so please don’t copy/repurpose it for your writing!! i plan on using these somewhere in my own writing and either way they’re stuff i’ve written so don’t use them!!

1. cooking + destructive + purple from @andiwriteunderthemoon [also i kind of cheated with this prompt and asked my sis @dreamscanbenightmarestoo for ideas and so the base idea’s from her!!]

I didn’t mean to set my house on fire, alright?

Let me set the scene: I’m sitting in my room, watching the infomercials that blur together, and suddenly there’s a bright purple flash on the glitching screen: /grapes/. They’re shiny, plump, and oh? A recipe for fine wine? Don’t mind if I do. So I pop into my kitchen and cut the grapes, dice them up, finally using the knife after years of not cooking— /mother, are you proud of me now?/— and stick the soft, luminescent fluid into a glass bottle. Following each step of the recipe.

The recipe didn’t mention an explosion.

Destruction rained around my house like a meteor shower. The bubbles from the fluid, frisking up at contact with metal, swam across my shoes and into the living room. It touched the TV, which still flashed the recipe, which I was still cursing at. And then, you know, it burnt up. The couch scorched first, I think. So that was fun. I later realised that I’d used my reserve of petroleum, which I’d put in my kitchen cabinet, instead of vinegar. I think I’ve got to move back in with my mother again.

2. running + quiet + sky blue from @kryskakikomi [i have no idea what this is i drafted this in a fever dream state]

Summer crawled up his skin like a worm. He was seated at his dining table, crosswording his way through the sticky morning, when it struck him that the humidity was new. He’d been caught in summer before, of course, but this year was different. His parents had whisked away to their hometown, and he still didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to go. He loved their home— he could have been running on beach sand and waves could have cruised over his feet, and his face would reflect sky blue under palm trees. Instead he sat doodling and scratching at cement walls in a quiet that nagged at his ears, grappling his flesh like a fishing hook, reeling him in. Boredom, him sister told him, before she also left for someone’s home. What would you know? he whispered once the door latched from the outside. Maybe /she’d/ like to sit on the same wooden chair, all the pink paint worn out, and scratch out squares of empty text until the pen poked through the other hand. He scoffed. At least he knew the number of scars on the wood; he could hold that over her when his parents returned.

3. hallucinate + hazy + violet from @chloeswords [i wanted to write something dreamy and ethereal but everytime i look at your url i’m reminded of church mud and indirectly my religious trauma so here we are 🤡]

We hold the book in our arms and chant for God. We don’t know what he looks like. They say that he’s sharp, never pixelating or blurring or showing through, like a hazy image would. No, children, our family says, he will come clothed in gold and velvet— the colour a deep and rich crimson, or chartreuse. And of course, he weaves a violet into his hair. Because he is just that humble. Just that gentle. Loving.

We’ve almost understood now. Pray, clasp our palms together into a transient equinox, and pray. Maybe he will shine down on us. Maybe we will speak so loud and chant so long that our lips will chap. Maybe we’ll simply hallucinate him to salve our bones. Our family says, he will bless you. And so he will.

4. halcyon + pluviophile + beige from anon [i was yearning for cats i am a cat person i love cats]

I remember my life before I moved to London,

Those halcyon days that I spent scooping up cat litter and brushing warm fur,

Being a mother to beige and white and black little felines.

They keep better company than humans.

Now I’m a self-proclaimed businesswoman, artist, influencer, pluviophile,

Even when I’ve barely stepped foot outside during the rain,

[But it needs to be said that when it rains in London, it pours].

I think I’d like to open a cat cafe;

I’m rich enough to pull it off.

5. sing + vulnerable + olive green from @occiidens [this was actually super fun to write because it’s a break from the typically unhinged stories i gravitate towards]

You watch from the highest hill of your town, hand wrapped around the serrated wood of a red oak tree. The bark pokes into your flesh, drawing blood that shouldn’t have been taken from you. You scowl. Just another thing that lives to cause you pain.

Three storeys down is a young man, short and smiling and lovely. He has dark skin and darker hair, walking with the stride of a deer, and he’s smiling; the joy reflects onto your face, even though you can’t hear him. He wears a cotton shirt, the olive green stark against the fire-blue sky. You call out, sing his name, three times in a row.

When he finally looks up, squinting as you silhouette under the sun, the smile widens. A wave. You’re suddenly overcome with embarrassment. Your palm digs into the bark until the wound is freshly dug again, the skin supple and vulnerable. You want to wave, but your hands would look so awkward, and the blood wouldn't help. So you turn on your heel and run— why are you so awkward?— and the grass around you is brighter. This is now a tomorrow issue, you conclude. You’re still smiling.

6. dislocate + ostentatious + blood red from @oasis-of-you [this got really unhinged really fast. TW: body horror]

If you take a turn at Finn Avenue,

Rogue your way down a blood red river,

[It’s not actual blood, do not worry. The colour’s a pigment and it’s saturated enough to give you the texture, the touch, the taste of blood, but I repeat, it isn’t true blood. You might think that it’s ostentatious of us to make you cross a river like that, but you’ll understand why.]

And if can stick your fingers inside the fluid,

You’ll find a bone.

Don’t pull it out fully! Only observe.

[This is a real bone, most likely animal. We may be ominous, but we don’t hurt humans. Not yet.]

So what do you do now? You want passage into a better world.

You came here because you saw the brochure, the flyer,

Radiant Idyll, home for love, but you also saw the jutting anatomy that leads to the city. The pictures were rather clear.

Why do you look so surprised? We’ve put this on the brochure— don’t you ever read the fine print?— to avoid this exact situation. That you would cross a body, a skeleton, pooled over in a fluid that we don’t name, but it’s probably alive.

It’s watching you right now.

So what do you do now?

Hurry up, unhinge your arm, dislocate the elbow, drop it into the blood, forgive me, false blood, and pay for your passage.

Oh! Excellent; that’s record time. We do hope you enjoy your stay!

1. @noteaboy [i’ve interpreted your url as ”note, a boy”]

There’s an orange tree. It’s spring, and there’s an orange tree, and it brims with fruit and citrus perfume. Point your lens flare downwards, and note, a boy. A young man, perhaps, because he combs his hair, uptight and firm, and he wears a tie. A long suit. He doesn’t look up, because his hand holds a book. /He/ holds the book, not the hands— tenderness doesn’t translate through anatomy, I’ve taught you this before. He’s waiting for someone. There’s only the rustle of leaves. He drops the book onto the lap of the tree, crushing the apple that had fallen down. Orange, not apple. Take note better. You only have one chance to get this right.

2. @eatingjupiter [your url is so beautiful omg]

The goddess had said this before she died: you need to watch over him. He needs your sentry to survive. The goddess’ words weren’t heeded. Little baby Jupiter tottered on lava as him parents small-talked with their kingdom. Well, it must have been small talk, because nothing seemed to happen afterwards other than his mother’s face collapsing in agony, anger, annoyance. He knew not to touch them then. He’d fly off into the sun one day, but if his hands were but and charred, he wouldn’t survive even a third of the journey.

The prophecy was simple: the firstborn to the kingdom will metamorph into a celestial, purify themselves so that only stardust remains. Live in the sky forever. The astrologers were baffled; you don’t just become a star. They should have heeded the goddess.

Jupiter was sixteen when he expanded and collapsed all at once. He still lives, they say, and the astrologers /were/ right, in a way: people just don’t become stars. They become almost empty space. Nobody knows if his hands were burnt when they left earth’s orbit forever.

3. @laughtracksonata [your name gave me slight horror vibes idk why!!]

Hahaha. The Horror Movie (don’t ask me for a name, I’m not good with those), with its cymbal crashing and plastic sounds, it’s so loud and scary that it hurts, father. Please turn it off.

Father doesn't listen. I shiver on the couch. The screen flickers like radio static and reflects off our wide eyes. What kind of a home is this anyway? I don’t want to fucking listen to a laugh track or a horror VHS tape or watch the bass crescendo as the serial killer jumpscares the watcher. I don’t think that having hour pupils glued to the same blood-splattered movie, with the same recording looping in his eardrums will help him. He laughs along, sometimes. It’s scary. Father needs a new hobby.

PART TWO COMING SOON!!

anyway this got REALLY long so i’m posting the third prompt group, the one based on songs, as a second part in some time. i hope you enjoy this, and PLEASE do boost!! i spent a lot of time writing these pieces and am pretty proud of them :’)

general taglist: @lovingyou-is @guulabjamuns @andiwriteunderthemoon @coffeeandcalligraphy @melonmilk @silentlylostwriter @charles-joseph-writes @eklavvya @eowynandfaramir @bitterwitchwrites @laughtracksonata @whatwordsdidnttouch @indeliblewrites @thenataliawrites @summersguilt @illimani-gibberish @sarahkelsiwrites @writing-in-delirium @shaelinwrites @sienna-writes @chewingthescenery @jennawritesstories @chloeswords @aelenko @keira-is-writing @cherylinanika @infinitely-empty-pages @jmtwrites @august-iswriting @freedelusionbanana @beetleblue88 @mistercaleb @iwannawritepls @hanwatchingmovies @mortallynuttyqueen @idratherliveinnarnia @maisulli @thegreyboywrites @ahowlinwolf @ravens-and-rivers @oasis-of-you @yanittawrites @chazza-writes-sometimes @skyfirewrites @lovebenders @treybriggsthewriter @themidnxghtwriter @ash-karter @queen-devasena @a-procrastination-addict @gaymityblight @beyondthebracken @madmaxst26 @adielwrites @moonpixxel @hollow-knight-dnd @keep-looking-here @overlap @ashleygarciawrites @ryns-ramblings​ @wordsbynathan @novaemlynlewis​ @sophiewritingstuff​ @howdy-writes​ @occiidens​ @nsanelyawkward​ @viawrites-andacts​

[virgojeons]

true love (jjk)

summary: you and jungkook spend your first christmas together. 

alternatively, a merry love story based on the lyrics of true love by ariana grande.

genre: fluff, humor, college au, established relationship, holiday series, jeon jungkook x reader

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cursing, implied sexual content, excessive use of pet names

wattpad version here, ao3 version here

a/n: well, here i am!! pls be gentle with me, this is the first time ive ever posted my writing on here and ive been debating it for months lmao. i truly truly hope u enjoy!!

on the first day of christmas when you gave me all them kisses, boy you showed me things, come hold me please and never let me go.

"Five days until Christmas and you're still decorating the tree?"

You yelped at the sudden sound of your boyfriend's voice, dropping your over-accessorized ornament and watching helplessly as it shattered against the floor.

Immediately, you whined. "Jungkook!"

Jungkook suppressed a grin at the furrow of your eyebrows and the pout of your lips, kicking his shoes off and tossing his coat onto the couch. He didn't mean to scare you, really. You even knew he was coming over. It's just that you left the front door unlocked (as you always did when he was on his way, despite him constantly scolding you for it) and there was no way you would've heard him come in over the sound of Jingle Bell Rock blaring through the house.

"Sorry, baby," He chuckled, bending down beside you to help pick up the remnants of your best ornament. "I didn't mean to scare you."

You glared at him in between collecting the shards of glass in your hand. "I spent hours making that."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Hot glue gun burns, sparkles stuck on my face and everything."

Jungkook took the pieces of glass from you with an amused look on his face, standing from his kneeling position to toss them in the trash can you had earlier moved to the living room for easy access. "I'm sorry. I'll make you another one."

"It's not the same." You sulked, finding fun in being stubborn and giving him a hard time. It was getting increasingly difficult though, with his rosy nose and ears and that little gleam in his eyes.

It was then that he made his first move of the night, tugging you by your oversized Rudolph sweater so quickly that you had to latch onto his shoulders for leverage with a squeal. His grin only seemed to grow once you were officially in his space, taking notice of your lack of pants and the snowflake stockings that appeared to be in their place instead.

"You don't look too sorry," You chuckled, heart stuttering at the way he was gazing down at you in such close proximity.

Jungkook shrugged, nudging his nose with yours. "I'm just happy."

They were such simple words, but it was the way he said them, the way he looked at you when he said them. You couldn’t lie, the excitement of spending your first Christmas together, completely alone, was incredibly infectious. It was gross and it was corny and everything else you swore you would never be, but you were in love with Jungkook. Devastatingly so. You from nine months ago probably wouldn’t even recognize the present you; a fact that friends, family, and even Jungkook alike loved to tease you about. Cracking the so-called ice queen was a feat to be celebrated, apparently. Whatever. He was yours and you were his so you didn’t quite care about the technicalities of it. Even if the story went a bit differently, in your opinion. 

The brutal snow and temperatures of February were beginning to fade into spring when you met Jungkook. 

You and Jimin had been attempting to finish your economics homework together in your favorite coffee shop; a hidden treasure that was a ten minute walk from campus and ticked all your aesthetic boxes. You two were sipping from your respective hot drinks, neglecting your heaps of bookwork in favor of discussing the new season of Stranger Things. Jimin was deep into his theory of Hopper still being alive when his eyes flickered to the door at the sound of the bell, widening slightly in recognition before a bright smile took over his face.

"Jungkook!" Jimin called, waving whoever it was over.

You followed his gaze and turned your head in the direction of the entrance, growing curious when the boy walking towards your table wasn't familiar to you. It took you less than five seconds to realize that the boy in question was attractive. 

Like, extremely attractive. The kind of attractive that should not be subjected to the way you look right now. 

It took you even less time to whip your head back around, glaring at Jimin with wide eyes and a panicked expression.

He met your glare with a confused scrunch of his eyebrows before it slowly transformed into a smirk, quickly catching on to what your pointed look was for. The night before had been a late one. You, like any other normal millennial, had impulse bought a pretty yellow Nintendo Switch solely for the new Animal Crossing game. As soon as it arrived on your doorstep you were retreating into your room, tearing the package open with squeals of excitement.

Maybe you completely lost track of time and played until your eyes were bloodshot and you heard birds chirping outside. Maybe you got an astounding two hours of sleep. And maybe you had fallen asleep without setting an alarm and woke up thirty minutes later than usual. 

The details were insignificant though, because you were throwing on a pair of leggings and the first sweatshirt you saw, brushing your hair and your teeth, and hastily sprinting to your car all in record time.

No sleep. No makeup. No breakfast. And worst of all, no coffee.

And so, it was blatantly clear you had no desire to let a boy that beautiful even glance at you in that state, let alone introduce himself. But it didn't look like you had a choice in the matter, because moments later he was towering over your table with a stupidly handsome smile.

Jungkook grinned, reaching out to do that Weird Bro Handshake with Jimin. "Hey, Chim."

You were already plotting various methods of painful revenge in your head.

"Hey, Kook. What are you doing here?"

"I kind of work here," He chuckled. "Well, as of like, yesterday. Today's my first day."

"Oh, so this is the new job you were telling me about," Jimin nodded in realization, then his eyes flickered mischievously to yours. You’re rapidly shaking your head. "You know, this is my friend ___'s favorite coffee spot."

A scowl immediately takes over your face, only to be wiped off and replaced by a sickeningly sweet smile when Jungkook turns his head to look your way. The instant your eyes meet his you quite literally want to melt into the floor. 

Jungkook smiles at you. Like, really smiles. "Hey, that's cool. We'll probably be seeing a lot of each other then, right?"

Across the table, Jimin snorts, which only adds to the way your cheeks are absolutely flaming. You send a harsh kick to Jimin's leg as inconspicuously as you can, all while batting your eyelashes at Jungkook.

"Uh, yeah! We probably... will."

Jungkook looks positively amused, but if he notices Jimin rushing to clutch his leg, he doesn't say anything.

"Sweet," He grins again. There's a brief few seconds where you two are just gazing at each other, stupid and shy, until Jimin loudly clears his throat. "Right, well, I should probably go clock in. Let's chill sometime this week, Chim."

"Sure thing." Jimin sings, smugness plastered all over his face.

Jungkook waves, already backing away from the table with his eyes on you. "Nice meeting you."

You feel yourself flush again and you absolutely hate it. "Nice meeting you too."

With a final smile, Jungkook disappears behind the employee doors. The moment he leaves your eyes are screwed shut and you're slamming your head against the table. The silence speaks for itself. You don't even need to see Jimin's face to know that he's either smirking or stifling his laughter.

"Don't." You warn.

"You just blushed," He says anyway. "Like, four times."

"I most definitely did not blush."

"You did. You still are."

"I'm embarrassed!" You wail. "That's literally the only reason why. I look like I got ran over and dragged for three blocks."

"Jungkook sure doesn't seem to think so," Jimin hums, snickering as he sips his coffee.

"Stop."

"He likes you." He insists.

"He was just being polite." You defend.

"That is literally my childhood best friend. I think I would know."

This makes you pause. Then you sigh. "He doesn't even know me."

He doesn’t disagree. But then again, "Not yet."

"Stop trying to play matchmaker, Jimin. He said five words to me," You spoke firmly, exasperated as you downed the final sip of your latte. "Plus, I'm just focusing on me and my degree right now. No distractions."

Jimin knew that you were already worn out, and even though he was mostly joking around, he wouldn’t want to push you any further. He’d drop it.

"Fine. We'll see who's right in the end, though."

For now.

"I will dump that hot coffee over your head."

As it turns out, Jimin was kind of right.

It takes a grand total of four visits to your favorite coffee shop before Jungkook asks you out. The first time you were by yourself, nose buried in a book as Jungkook was clocking in. He wasn't able to speak to you until about an hour later, when the morning rush had passed and you had finally lifted your head from whatever was in that book. 

You were honestly dreading facing him again, but you were prepared and actually presentable this time. Also you were kind of starving. And so, you hesitantly approached the counter. Jungkook took your order, both of you all fidgeting hands and sheepish smiles. You mentally patted yourself on the back when you spoke without any real mess-ups, and prayed that the cool girl aura you always tried so desperately to maintain was being transmitted. 

Not like you were trying to leave a lasting impression, or anything.

He hand delivered you your coffee and muffin with a beaming grin, all while his new boss glared at him from behind the counter. He didn't have to know that you knew cashiers weren't supposed to serve the food.

The second visit was a few days after. You were with Jimin again, shooting down every jab he made about you only wearing a pretty dress because you knew you would be coming here. Jungkook joined you both during his break. As soon as he untied his apron and sat himself directly across from you, it struck. You knew you were screwed. You just couldn't stop staring at him. The chin in the palm of your hands and sparkles in your eyes type of staring. You would be much more ashamed if you couldn’t see the way he was staring right back. Jimin found this hilarious, of course, and would subtly find ways to connect you two in conversation. You weren't sure if you loved or hated him for it.

It was that visit that Jungkook insisted on sharing his slice of strawberry cake with you, claiming he wasn't that hungry. The both of you were embarrassed, whacking his arm and dismissing him as Jimin complained about being the third wheel. By the end of his break, Jungkook was positively smitten, you were begrudgingly infatuated, and Jimin was awfully smug. He reluctantly said bye to you both, and you were slouching forward with your head in your hands the moment he disappeared from visibility.

Jimin looked extremely pleased. "Believe me now?"

"Focusing on school," You protested. It was a weak one, but. Well.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" He mused.

And suddenly, you were frantic. Panicking. This was definitely not a part of the plan.

Quickly packing up your things, you groaned loudly. "You. Maybe me. Or both. I can't think in this place anymore."

"You'll be all over each other by next week."

"Shh!" You were childishly covering your ears and speed-walking out of the café.

Try as you might, you couldn't help yourself and returned the very next day after all your classes had finished. Jungkook was already there when you walked in, taking a customer's order but doing a double take and flashing you a smile when you appeared in his line of sight. This visit consisted of nothing but pretending.

Pretending to be studying. Pretending you weren't listening to him take orders just to hear his voice. Pretending you weren't sneaking glances at him. Pretending that the way your eyes kept meeting wasn't making your skin prickle. And you were just fine pretending, until suddenly he was in the seat across from with you his apron off and a steaming hot chocolate in hand. You tried your hardest to remain indifferent, you really did. But then he was pushing the beverage towards you with gentle eyes and his smile hopeful, telling you it was his treat because he noticed how hard you were studying. And then you were melting right along with the marshmallows in that mug.

The two of you talked about your majors, your families, your favorite shows, even Jimin. You asked about his tattoos and he explained them with ease. You also may have pulled out one of the oldest tricks in the book at the sight of his knuckle tattoos, gasping in feigned wonder when you pulled his hand against yours to measure the size difference. 

His hand could swallow yours whole and still have some leftover, you discovered. It was a very rewarding experiment.

You made each other laugh and blush down to the very last second of his break. Scarily enough, being in each other's presence was so annoyingly addictive that you found yourself hesitant to watch him leave. You could tell Jungkook felt the same by the way he dragged out his goodbyes. I work again on Thursday, maybe I'll see you then? Your fingers brushed as he softly took the mug from you. It was really fun talking to you. You were biting your lip to keep from smiling embarrassingly big. You look really pretty today, by the way. And then he was off.

You made a strangled noise the second you were outside with your fingers frantically beginning to type a message to Jimin.

promise not to say i told you so :///

Jungkook asked you out on your fourth visit. As soon as you approached the counter, he just blurted it out. As if it was something he couldn't hold on his tongue any longer. You couldn't hear yourself say yes over your brain malfunctioning and the powerful thumping of your heart, but you knew you did. His heartbreakingly gorgeous grin told you so.

On his break, Jungkook brought you a latte with a heart carved in the cream. You just couldn't conceal the coo that escaped you, which quickly resulted in his cheeks reddening. 

Cute, you thought. 

He quizzed you on your personality and the type of activities you liked to do, admitting that he would use the information to conjure up the best date you would ever go on. Six days later, Jungkook stayed true to his word. Not only was it the best date you had ever been on, but you were completely certain it would ruin any other dates for you moving forward, unless they were with him. Much to your annoyance and also utter delight, you were so sure of Jeon Jungkook and your brief but striking time together that you kissed him. Right on the swings of your favorite childhood playground, first date rules tossed aside.

He was so caught off guard that his eyes expanded to twice their normal size and your teeth banged together. You drew back, slightly mortified and ready to jump to your death from the tallest slide on the playground, but Jungkook was huffing a laugh onto your lips and grabbing your face like it was nothing. Then you two got it just right, and something clicked. The earth fell off its axis and you were rendered breathless and all that nauseating cliché shit you chastised as a myth. And from that day forward, you two were completely, tooth-rottingly, inseparable.

"Easy," Jungkook proclaimed, pecking your lips. "We finished the tree."

He set you back on the floor gently, releasing a dramatic breath of air as if lifting you to place the star on top of the tree had actually winded him. As if he wasn't a muscle pig. You rolled your eyes and told him as much.

"Don't be a baby, muscle pig," You shoved at his bicep, only proving your point further when he didn't move an inch. ‘And I finished the tree.”

Instead, he caught the hand that you nudged him with and pulled your back to his chest, caging you between his arms. "Muscle pig, huh? That's what you think of me, baby?"

You flushed at the teasing lilt in his voice, suddenly very eager to escape his hold. But try as you might, he just wouldn't budge. A loud laugh left your throat as you flailed in his grasp, his muscled arms bulging in the turtleneck you bought him for his birthday a few months ago. Suddenly, you decided that you would be returning it for your own personal peace.

A high pitched whine left your mouth, one that lost all its seriousness once it was drowned out by your giggles. "Jungkook, let go of me!"

You would just not stop wiggling, and Jungkook could not stop laughing. He could live the rest of his life like this, his brain pauses to think. He's so happy.

And when you're thrashing so violently that your heel kicks his pocket with a force that has an object clattering onto the floor, Jungkook has never reacted faster in his life. Instantly your imprisonment is gone, and Jungkook is on your floor in a flash. Your eyebrows draw together at the sight of him scrambling for whatever it is, and all you're able to see is a sleek black case before he's quickly stuffing it back in his pocket.

You're eyeing him when he rises back on his feet. "Feel like sharing?"

Jungkook whistles noncommittally. "Not particularly, no."

There's a drawn-out beat of silence where you're just gazing at each other, neither one of you backing down. And then you're crossing your arms, and he's looking at your nose and your forehead and anywhere but your eyes, and then you're arching an eyebrow. He looks at you and breaks. Defeat.

"It's your present," He lets out a heavy sigh. "Well, the main one anyway."

You positively squeal. "Ooh! Can I see? Please?"

"Baby, it's the 20th."

"Can I have a hint?"

Jungkook blinks. "No, you cannot have a hint."

You're instantly pouting, but Jungkook expects that, because he knows you better than anyone else. Which is why he knows that you're a little spoiled, with a bit of a bratty streak, with just a dash of calculated charm that you use to your advantage to get just about anything you want. He's never seen it as a bad thing. In fact, he finds it cute. A little hot, too, if he's being truthful.

Anyway, he came prepared. Just as you're opening your mouth to no doubt make him spill the surprise, he's hushing you with a bruising kiss to your lips. The kind of kiss that makes you go pliant against him, the kind that makes you make a little noise in the back of your throat. The kind you've been waiting for all night. 

It’s the trick that never truly runs its course. 

And Jungkook is melting, too. Melting, turning to mush at your very feet, until you're moving backwards and clutching at his shoulders, ready to push him onto the couch.

"Mmm," He's humming against you, before he reluctantly draws back. He lets you chase his lips once, twice, before he chuckles lowly. "Hold on, angel."

You're suddenly feeling warm all over after his kisses, wanting nothing more than to cuddle into him into the couch and feel him next to you. Or maybe above you. With that chain you always tugged on dangling in your face. You really weren't picky.

You watched Jungkook break away from you and rummage through his bag with a frown and a newfound heat at the pit of your belly. "It can't wait?"

Like he said, he knows you, which means he knew kisses alone wouldn’t be able to satiate you nor get you to stop asking questions for the entire week. No matter how mind-numbing they may be.

"One second," He promised, and you definitely counted at least five, but he quickly found what he was looking for all the same. "I brought a surprise. Well, two surprises."

He was holding both of his hands behind his back with this stupid grin on his face. You squinted for a few seconds, suspicious, before breathing out a laugh. "Are you ever gonna show me?"

Jungkook looked way too happy with himself.

"The most important surprise is mistletoe, obviously. Gonna have to find a way to glue it on to the ceiling above your bed." And there was that mischievous little smile that told you he had every intention of carrying that out.

You folded your arms over your body and scoffed. Even if you were trying and failing to keep your lips from quirking up and possibly, maybe finding it a little harder to breathe all of a sudden. "You're unbelievable, Jeon."

He just winked and held up his other hand, pulling a gasp from your lips the second you realized what it was.

"The Polar Express!"

"I had to check like, four different stores in the mall to find it. That's why I got here a little late, by the way. But I thought we could make some hot chocolate like in the movie and watch it together and," Jungkook pauses to think, licking his lips. "There's a 'ride my train' joke in here somewhere but I don't know how to say it."

He's snorting at his own delivery before you are, and once your giggles permeate the air he's invading your space again with a lovesick smile.

"You are the sweetest boy," You praise, holding his pretty face with both hands and peppering small kisses all over it the way he secretly likes. "But you make me sick to my stomach sometimes."

If anything, this makes him smile even wider. "I love you too, baby."

You and Jungkook are in complete darkness besides the light coming from the TV in your room playing Polar Express. His head is on your shoulder with his arm strewn across your waist, and his entire leg slotted between yours. He's soft. He smells like the lavender body soap you keep in your shower. His gentle breaths hit your neck every time he exhales and you're now cliché enough to believe that the heart underneath you beats in tandem with yours. 

Both of your stomachs are filled from the takeout he ordered for dinner and the peppermint hot chocolate you made while he was in the shower. You're still mentally replaying the moment he stepped back in your room, towel wrapped around his waist with droplets of water cascading down his body. His prominent abs and tattoos and wet hair had you scrambling to sit up, clearing your throat as you tasked yourself with handing him his mug. If he noticed you ogling him, he surely didn’t react to it.

Made us some cocoa, you said.

He brought the beverage to his nose and sniffed once, twice, before his entire face bunched up. Peppermint is nasty. Then he was gulping it down.

I thought it was nasty, you laughed in disbelief.

Nothing you make me can be nasty. Thank you, baby.

And now you’re thoroughly warm from the tips of your fingertips down to your toes, and you figure it has less to do with the cocoa and more with the way Jungkook so obviously loves you. The way you love him.

Feeling a tugging at your shirt, you look down to see him peering up at you with a dazed twinkle in his eye. "You're not hot in this?"

You purse your lips and pause, knowing what was coming. "No. Are you?"

He has the decency to look a little clueless. He was always doing that, in a playfully childish way you grew to love.

"Actually, yeah I am," Jungkook furrows his brows, like it was something he was just now realizing. And then he's sitting up and pulling his shirt over his head, and you're instantly staring at his back and remembering the way it feels to rake your fingers up and down it, and he's turning back to you with a lazy smirk. "You don't wanna take yours off, angel?"

You swallow. "I'm okay."

Jungkook starts to laugh, that cocky laugh that is equal parts douchebag-ish and sexy. He's most definitely turning you on and he most definitely knows this, which is why you're glaring at him until he reaches over you and picks up the mistletoe from your bedside desk. He dangles it over your heads, makes sure to wriggle his eyebrows suggestively when he does it, and you want to laugh, you really do. You would probably roll your eyes and call him a nerd too while you were at it, if it weren't for the way he was changing his position and starting to lean over you. Crowding your space in your favorite way. 

Jungkook hears your breathing pick up once you're directly under him, watches the way your lips part and your eyes change for him, and decides to go for the kill.

Nothing about the kiss was soft or gentle. Jungkook clearly had a point to prove and knew how he wanted to do it. The dangling mistletoe was soon forgotten in favor of holding your face by your chin, landing with a chime on your wooden floors. He worked your mouth open in that sloppy, messy, dirty way he only exhibited when he was feeling particularly desperate. Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth and you were trembling underneath him, clutching at the warm skin of his back. It was nasty, absolutely obscene the way his tongue was in your mouth like his life depended on it. And you loved it. You couldn't stop making these little sounds, and Jungkook was groaning into your mouth right along with you. You were seconds away from pleading for him to do anything he wanted, to make you his, when he's abruptly pulling from you with a wet pop and a string of saliva between you.

Your ragged breaths fill the air, both of your chests heaving as you take a second to attempt to drag yourself out of the haze he's built around you two.

The asshole has the audacity to laugh. "Hot yet?"

"You don't have to bring out the mistletoe to kiss me, you know." You eventually say instead.

"I know," He pants, still smiling like the all-consuming beauty he is. "But you love Christmas. And it's our first. Wanna do it right."

You feel the need to close your eyes, let his words sink in, and so you do. You let the statement blanket over you until you're positively beaming, and when you open your eyes, he is the same. You are so irreversibly in love and you think he might be perfect. You tell him as much.

"You're perfect," You say, all soft and starry eyed. You're nodding when he starts shaking his head, and when the tips of his ears begin to turn red and he's putting his head down, you're giggling and putting both hands on either side of his head to get his eyes back on yours. "I love you a lot."

Jungkook is so happy. "Love you most."

And then he's leaning down again. This kiss is much less frantic, more steady, but still passionate and still with Jungkook, which means it fills your body with heat all the same. Your head is floating and you're squirming under his hold again when you break apart for air.

There's no point in trying to resist him anymore. You never can.

"I'm gonna take my sweater off now."

Jungkook scrunches his nose, and grins. "Okay."

read part two here!

[fanfalc-616]

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Twenty

(Previous Chapter Here)

I can be nice sometimes! See?

Zane looks up at Cryptor from his spot on the floor, gritting his teeth as he bites back a cutting remark.

“Look, just say you’re lesser. You don’t even have to call me Master; I’m not human. Just do it so we can go back to the lockers.” Cryptor sounds so tired, so resigned to his fate.

And that’s exactly why Zane cannot give in. Cryptor has begun to cave, and that means he can’t do the same. At least one of them must remain strong.

They had not even brought anyone to supervise, so confident in Cryptor’s willingness to behave that they felt that they didn’t need to have others around to ensure it.

“I won’t,” Zane makes eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t say it.”

Cryptor hits something on the remote, and the chains are abuzz with electricity, the power mimicking bone-crushing strength.

He can’t stop himself from crying out, even as he tries to muffle it. When the pain lessens, he’s trembling. Unfortunately, Cryptor is heavy-handed with his punishments- something that Zane had not been expecting when they had begun.

“You don’t have to do this.” He knows that while his facial plate is gone, Cryptor will still be able to read the pleading expression he has. “Please, Cry, you-“

“My designation is General.” Cryptor interrupts. “And I do. I have to follow orders. Za- Original, it’ll be easier if you do. Just… just do what you’re told, okay? It’s better this way.”

Zane shakes his head softly. “You know I can’t.” He returns quietly.

Cryptor sighs, looking down. Even without the face plate, there’s visible regret. “I know.” He agrees.

Then he shocks him again.

Straining in his bonds, he tries to get away from the crushing feeling, the heavy weight that he’s made to feel, the pain that runs through him.

When it’s lessened, he’s breathing heavily, silently pleading for it to be over, fighting the relentless urge to just surrender, to give in. Cryptor’s right, it would be so much easier… he could just be taken back to his locker, and-

Wait.

That’s it.

Shaking, Zane sucks in a deep breath, waiting for him to ask again. The odds of this working are low, but it just may play in his favor.

“Z- Original, you’re lesser. Admit to it.” Cryptor orders once again, still with that tired resignation in his voice.

Zane ducks his head. “I… I am lesser to humankind.” He agrees, trying to sound as pitiful and weak as possible. He has to hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll have the right opportunity…

Cryptor nods, walking over to him. He begins to undo the chains. “Thank you.” He softly murmurs.

And those words make this that much harder.

The moment the chains have been given enough slack, Zane grabs Cryptor and shoves him back with as much force as he can muster.

As the other stumbles, Zane kicks him in the chest, sending him skidding even farther backwards.

“Zane, what are you-?!” There’s shock and slight fear in Cryptor’s voice, but Zane doesn’t wait to hear all of what he’s saying.

He bolts.

Feet pounding against the tiled floor, Zane runs, he races through the halls as fast he can. After a minute, he slows, reminding himself of what he knows of the guards routines.

A nagging voice in the back of his mind warns that this is most likely an illusion, but he ignores it. He can worry about that later, for now he should do his best to escape.

Every movement precise. Every step measured. Every breath quiet. Every action calculated.

It doesn’t take long for him to get lost. Internally cursing, Zane struggles to figure out where in the facility he is.

He manages to find some kind of control room, and he makes his way inside, relieved to find that no one is there.

Zane makes his way to a computer. What should he do? Should he look something up? Should he try to contact his teammates? Should he-

Wait.

From here, he can access the outside world, even through his head.

Zane searches for a signal, something he could latch onto. While they can trick his sensors, one thing unable to be manipulated is any form of connection he may make to the outside world. Connecting to the internet, to another device… that’s not something they could simulate.

Managing to connect to something isn’t nearly as difficult as it should be. In fact, it’s easier than most connections he made outside the facility. It’s almost like he’s connected to this bef-

Wait.

He knows this signal.

Scrambling, Zane does everything he can to solidify it, to ensure that even once he leaves this room, he will still have access to it.

This is the way he will make it out. Access to this… he can make contact with his team. He can interact with the world. He can find a way out of this wretched place.

“Hello, my old friend.” He whispers, a spark of hope lighting up inside him. “It’s been a while.”

The Falcon caws as Zane stabilizes the connection.

He connects his eyes to it, and he knows he would be near tears if he could truly cry. This is… this is real. He can… he can really see the world again.

Quickly, Zane begins to calculate a way to make it out of the facility. If he’s careful, he may be able to-

Suddenly, he freezes.

He can’t leave.

He can’t… he can’t leave Cryptor here. Even if he makes it out, the other would still be trapped. He… he can’t escape. Not if it means leaving the other behind.

Carefully, Zane sneaks out of the room, feeling the hope still alive as he realizes that he’s still connected.

Now, he must get re-captured. By Cryptor, of course- if he is also the one to find him, the punishment for losing him will likely be lessened.

Carefully, Zane creeps through the halls, looking for the other nindroid. When they are both inside the lockers, he will be able to connect Cryptor to the Falcon as well. From there, they will both be able to interact with the outside world.

Zane can talk to his boyfriends.

Cryptor can talk to Sentry.

When he finds the other, Zane purposefully hits a foot against the tiles just a little too loudly.

He does put up a fight, but it’s more for show than anything. Just enough of an attempt to make it seem real.

When they are returned to the lockers, Zane begins to tap out a message- only to be interrupted by the other.

I HA

NO

Zane sighs. How can he help connect Cryptor to the Falcon if the other won’t listen? He would have to say something to get his attention…

SENTRY

There. That should do it.

WHAT?

DO YOU WANT TO SEE HIM AGAIN?

He can almost feel the anger radiating off of the other. This is clearly a touchy subject.

OF COURSE I DO BUT

MY FALCON

He doesn’t say anything more, but judging from the pause, Cryptor understands what he’s getting at.

Only a minute later, the other is connected.

Cryptor sends him a message- this time digital instead of tapping.

(‘Thank you’) Cryptor sounds grateful and almost like he’s about to cry.

Zane feels another spark of hope inside of him. This is it. This is how they will make their escape.

If he had a faceplate, Zane would be smiling as he replies. (‘What are you waiting for?’)

And so, the Falcon flies off.

Zane won’t lie… this is one of the first times he has felt truly happy in a long time.

And it’s the first time he can believe that everything will be okay.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Sentry sighs, drumming his fingers against the table he sits at.

He’s been working through these files for hours on end, and he’s still not any closer to finding a way to rescue Cryptor.

Biting his lip, he thinks back on the time they had spent together. The joy he had felt when they were friends, when they had just been able to be without any problems.

With a groan, Sentry shakes his head. Why is he so worked up over this? There are injured nindroids that work for him that he should be more worried about, ones who didn’t try to destroy Ninjago.

Why does he care so much? Sure, they were friends, but even for that, this seems extreme. What could-

Wait.

Wait a minute.

What was Sentry feeling when they had been hanging out together? His power source had heated up. He had felt the need to impress him. He had spent all of his free time with him, even some times when he should’ve been working.

Those aren’t usually things people do for friends.

Is Sentry… is he…

“I’m in love with Cryptor.” He breathes out, shock over taking him as he comes to the realization.

(‘Wait, you are?!’) There’s a sudden voice, catching him by surprise.

Sentry flinches, trying to find the source of the voice. It had come from… inside his head?

“Who are you? Why are you in my- how are you in my head?!” He gets to his feet, looking around.

(‘It’s me. It’s Cryptor. Did you just say you were in love with me?’) The voice… does sound a lot like Cryptor. But how could it be? He can’t- how-

A new voice joins the conversation. (‘Hello, Sentry. I don’t think we’ve spoken in person before, but I’m Zane. Cryptor and I are using my Falcon to hold a conversation outside of the facility where we are being kept.’)

Looking around, Sentry spots a falcon on a nearby windowsill. Rushing over, he opens the window, allowing the bird inside.

(‘Forget about that, he just said he was in love with me!’) Cryptor sounds almost panicked, but… in a good way?

Sentry nods shakily. “Uh. Maybe? But how- you guys can- okay, I- I need to contact the ninja. This is- this is a big deal, I-“

(‘We can do that in a minute! You just said that you’re in love with me!’) Cryptor sounds happy now, and Sentry releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Do you, uh… feel the same?” It’s kind of odd, having a conversation like this while looking at a bird. But Sentry is still just as eager to hear the answer.

(‘Yes, I just didn’t think you did, I- wait. You’re not hurt.’)

Sentry feels delighted at the beginning of the response, but then he frowns, a wave of confusion washing over him. “No? Why would I be?”

Even in the silence, he can tell that Cryptor is angry beyond belief. (‘No reason.’)

Sentry makes eye contact with the Falcon, trying to show that he’s serious. “Cryptor, why-“

He doesn’t get to continue, however, because Zane cuts him off.

(‘Someone’s coming. We need to close the connection.’) His voice is urgent, and Sentry nods.

Someone’s coming, he says. Is that the kind of life they’ve been living? Surviving only on the whims of their captors, everything beyond their control?

He fights back a shudder. “I’ll talk to you later, then?”

(‘Yeah, talk to you when we have the chance.’) Cryptor agrees.

Then the quiet static that he hadn’t noticed fades, and he knows that they left.

The bird flies off, and Sentry takes a moment to watch it before returning to his work.

But this time, when he opens the files, there’s a smile on his face.

Sooner or later, the government will slip up.

And Sentry will bring them home.

[echo-bleu]

all this time I had feathers

This is a fill for my @shadowhunterbingo square Christmas Fic. It's part of my map out a world series (with autistic Alec), but it should stand on its own. I only remembered I had a Christmas square on my Bingo yesterday, so this is written in two days and unbetaed!

Our boys run into some competing access needs over Christmas. I've given hints that Magnus has ADHD in this series and it's still not really explicit here, but I will write a fic more focused on that at some point.

The title is from a truly beautiful theater play that's unfortunately only available in French, Plume by Alistair Houdayer. The play uses a bird as a metaphor for autism and the full sentence is "All this time I had feathers and you lied to me?" (translation is my own). It's about discovering that you're autistic after years of being shut down and ignored.

Read on AO3.

-

Alec sighs internally as he opens the door to the loft and hears music. It’s been like this for days and he can’t take it anymore. Magnus has been hanging lights everywhere and blasting Christmas songs at every chance, and Alec’s headache hasn’t left him for days. Thankfully Christmas is tomorrow, so maybe it will stop afterwards.

Although that might be too optimistic. Alec has never really done anything for Christmas before, beside a quiet exchange of presents with his siblings, but he knows the decorations in shops don’t go anywhere until the new year. That’s one week away. He’s not sure he can do this without blowing up again.

He takes a deep breath. The last time he was here, this morning before his shift, Catarina and Madzie had dropped by to bake cookies with Magnus and Alec barely managed to contain himself until they left, exploding as soon as he and Magnus were alone. He said things he didn’t mean, and things he definitely didn’t mean to say in anger. He doesn’t even know where all that rage comes from – it’s just a deep, twisted feeling inside, his skin crawling until he can’t take anymore of the twinkling lights and the cheesy songs.

He stormed out and he and Magnus haven’t talked since, not even by text.

“Alexander,” Magnus says coolly when Alec finds him in the apothecary, bent over a potion of some sort. The smell coming from it is horrendously strong, though not bad per say. It smells like mint and maybe cinnamon – not that Alec is very good at identifying scents, but they’re ones that he usually likes.

“I’m sorry,” Alec forces out, even if the irritation is rising in his chest again. “I didn’t mean what I said. I don’t know what came over me.”

Magnus looks at him for a moment. “I have to admit I didn’t expect to spend most of Christmas Eve wondering why we’re even fighting,” he says slowly. “But you were obviously angry, and it can’t have been because of the flour all over the kitchen, since I cleaned that up straight away. Can we sit and talk about it calmly?”

Alec nods, breathing through his nose to avoid the now overwhelming smell of mint. “Are you nearly done with this?”

“Oh, yes, I’ll just bottle it up and then I can join you. Make yourself comfortable wherever you want.”

Alec breathes in relief that Magnus isn’t so angry that he’ll ignore their comfort for the sake of arguing. But it makes what he’s about to ask all the harder.

“Would you please turn the music off?” he asks as neutrally as possible. He knows it comes out monotonous and emotionless, and he sees Magnus tense at it.

But contrary to the expected retort, Magnus looks up and assesses him for a moment before he sighs.

“Oh, Alexander,” he murmurs, and the music stops. “Go. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Alec nods and turns on his heels. The sudden quiet in the loft feels like heaven, although he can’t look anywhere without being assaulted by bright and colorful Christmas lights. In the living room, he freezes for at least a whole minute, trying to decide between the comfort of the couch and the table where there are slightly few visible light garlands if he sits facing the windows. The choice feels too hard to make right now and—

Alec makes himself move and goes for the bedroom instead. Magnus said wherever he wants. They usually avoid having fights in the bedroom to keep it a sanctuary of sorts, but maybe this is a needed exception.

He flops down on the bed, looking in dismay at the fairy light garlands hung all around the room. He doesn’t hate fairy lights, he’s the first to admit that they’re pretty – when used with some semblance of moderation. Not when they cover every square inch of the walls. He sighs and closes his eyes, slipping under the covers despite the fact that he’s fully dressed. The weighted blanket immediately grounds him.

He hasn’t slept properly in a while. Maybe that’s what’s making him grumpy. There’s been a surge of demon activity in the city, on top of all the Clave ceremonies he has to attend this time of the year. That means he’s been on call or in Alicante almost every night, and sleeping during the day with this damn music on is near impossible.

When Magnus finally joins him, he’s nearly asleep. He presses his fists into his eyes, trying to force the tiredness out of his head. Magnus doesn’t say anything as he removes his jacket and slips into bed beside him. He still smells faintly of mint and cinnamon.

“Darling,” he says softly after a moment. He reaches out, but he doesn’t touch Alec, settling his hand an inch away from Alec’s arm.

Alec tries to make himself cross the gap between them, but it feels too big right now, his skin still crawling. He makes an aborted motion of apology.

Magnus picks up one of the long golden necklaces he’s wearing and offers it to Alec, without removing it. It has a pendant at the end, tiny intertwined circles that can spin around each other. Alec latches onto it without even thinking about it, finding comfort in both the stimming and the connection to Magnus.

“Can you speak?” Magnus asks. He soft, gentle. Not angry. Alec doesn’t understand – he deserves all of Magnus’ anger and more.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. He’s not sure he can hold a long conversation, but here under the covers, the lights hidden by the blankets, he feels better, like a fog is lifting from his mind.

Magnus taps the mattress with a finger by Alec’s head. “Have you been overloaded this whole time?”

“I’m not—” Alec starts immediately, but he stops mid-sentence.

Oh.

That’s what it is. The irrational anger, the constant irritation, his inability to focus. His speech has been as unreliable as his sleeping pattern, but he’s long learned to make do with groans and looks. The constant buzzing in his brain, the exhaustion that only he seems to feel…

“I don’t know,” he amends. “Maybe?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Alec bites his lip, focusing on the necklace he’s fidgeting with rather than on Magnus. “I didn’t realize,” he says.

“Was it just the music?” Magnus asks, unclasping his bike chain bracelet to match his fidgeting. Alec shifts his stare from his own hands to Magnus’, the repetitive movement soothing.

He tries to think about the question, to push it through his mushy brain and figure out an answer. He really is tired, in that way that doesn’t make him want to sleep so much as hide in a quiet corner. He knows that he’s taking too long to answer, but Magnus waits patiently.

“The music...the lights, too. Everything’s too bright. And...too many people.” They’ve had someone over nearly every day, wether it’s Cat and Madzie or Dot or Raphael or Clary and Simon, and occasionally Magnus’ other Downworlder friends Alec has never met before. After whole shifts at the Institute, coordinating patrols and trying to stay on top of things, or fighting demons in back alleys, all he wants is some quiet and peace.

“Alexander,” Magnus buries his face in the mattress. “I’ve been overloading you this whole time and I didn’t even notice.” He turns back toward Alec, his voice no longer muted. “I’m truly sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Alec says. “You didn’t know.”

“I did not, but you still deserve an apology. How did we let get so far?”

“I—” Alec hesitates. “You seemed happy.”

Magnus shakes his head. “My happiness cannot come at the price of yours. I want you to tell me when it gets too much. When I get too much.”

Alec catches Magnus’ wrist in his hand, intent overwhelming his touch-avoidance. “No. It’s not you. You’re never too much for me, Magnus.”

They’ve only spoken a few times about Magnus’ history with that phrase, about his own difference, his own deviations from the norm, but Alec knows it’s something deeply ingrained. Magnus has been told he’s too much too often in his life, and Alec will not let him belittle himself that way. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t realized it myself,” he says. “It’s like...background noise. After a while, you can tune it out and you don’t even hear it anymore, but it’s still draining.”

“But why would you tune it out, instead of just telling me to stop it?” Magnus asks, not moving his hand from Alec’s grasp. Alec releases him and intertwines their hands instead.

“I didn’t...think of it,” he tries. It’s not true, not entirely. He didn’t ask, because Magnus liked it. He didn’t ask because he didn’t want to be a killjoy, as his siblings have too often accused him of being. He didn’t want to take this little bit of happiness away from Magnus because he’s an oversensitive simp.

He doesn’t voice that thought, because he knows what Magnus would think of it. And he supposes that’s progress, in a way.

Magnus understands anyway. “You’ve been so used to your perceptions being ignored that you don’t know how to set boundaries,” he says slowly. “Am I wrong?”

Alec shrugs with the one shoulder that’s not against the bed.

“You like the lights, and the music,” he says. “And the baking, all the Christmas stuff.”

“I do. But we could have found a middle ground. You can’t sacrifice your comfort for mine.”

Alec bites back that it’s what he’s always done. It’s not true. It used to be, maybe, with his family, but with Magnus, he’s never had to do that. Magnus is always so attentive, anticipating his needs before he can even ask.

So the least Alec could do is let him have this.

“Why do you like Christmas so much?” he asks softly, rather than dig further into it.

“It’s not really Christmas,” Magnus confesses. “I’m not religious, and I don’t care much about the meaning of it all. But it gives me an excuse.”

He pauses, and Alec simply waits, nodding encouragingly.

“I often get...sad, in the winter,” Magnus continues. “I don’t know if it’s what the mundanes call seasonal depression, or if it’s because I’ve lived so long and lost so many people during the winter months, but this time of the year is always hard for me. So I do everything to try and cheer myself up. I usually throw parties almost every night, just to surround myself with living, breathing people – and vampires, who thrive on the longest nights of the year.”

“You haven’t thrown many parties this year,” Alec remarks.

“No, I know you don’t like them and I didn’t want you to feel excluded—”

Alec tenses. “You shouldn’t stop for my sake! Did I prevent you from doing something that helps you?”

Magnus shakes his head. “Only in the same way that I forced you to bear things that were too much for you. We neglected to talk about it when we should have.”

Alec sighs and curls up on himself a little more.

“Besides,” Magnus adds, “This year, I have you. My very own living, breathing Nephilim to keep me warm. I’m better than I’ve been every other year. I just...I got scared that it would happen again, and I didn’t want you to see me like that. So I went a little overboard with the Christmas cheer.”

“A little?” Alec gives a small laugh.

“Okay, a lot. You told me you’ve never properly celebrated Christmas before, so I wanted to give you the full experience, and keep myself busy in the process. I never stopped to think about how it could affect you. I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Alec murmurs.

“Whatever for?”

“The...communication failure? I’m trying, but it’s not...easy.”

Magnus smiles softly, running his thumb over the back of Alec’s hand. “And that’s okay. As long as we’re trying. We just need to check in a little more often.”

“Okay,” Alec nods weakly. “We can try that.”

“No more music,” Magnus says. “I’ll dim all the lights.”

“Music is fine if it’s low,” Alec corrects. “And maybe not when I’m trying to sleep.”

Magnus closes his eyes in dismay. “I’m—”

“Stop apologizing,” Alec interrupts him. “Been there, done that. Let’s move on. I promise I’ll try to tell you if it gets too much again.”

“Okay. What do you want to do now?”

Alec thinks about it. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. He still feels slow and his head aches, though the worst is passing.

“Can I hold you?” Magnus asks.

Alec opens his mouth to say yes, but he’s not ready yet. He gives Magnus an apologizing look and a tiny shake of his head.

“I think I need to clear my head,” he says slowly. “Just...think. It’s not against you at all, I just need to be in my own mind for a bit.” He needs to center himself. He feels scattered, like he’s been open and exposed to the elements and he needs to just be himself again.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Magnus starts to rise.

“No!” Alec stops him. “I’ll go. Walking will help. I’ll be back soon, promise.”

He jumps to his feet, eager to go now that he’s made the decision. He forces himself to check that Magnus doesn’t seem too worried or angry, but Magnus simply nods, looking a little surprised but not overly concerned.

“I’ll be here,” he says simply.

*

When Alec walks back into the loft two hours later, he does it with a measure of apprehension. He feels better, but he’s not sure what to expect.

There is music coming from inside, but it’s different. It’s not a cheesy Christmas song, and not even one of the classical pieces Magnus tried that Alec enjoyed marginally better. It’s something modern but also slow, quiet even though it permeates the entire loft. It’s soothing.

The lights are out. That’s the first thing Alec notices, because everything has been so bright for so long. He thinks for a moment that maybe Magnus went out, went to celebrate with friends who actually enjoy the holiday. He feels a pang on guilt at that – okay, a whole bucket of guilt. He’s been a grinch, and he knows it. But he couldn’t think with all those lights and noises.

The only light on is a fairy light garland that’s magically running in a single thread over all the walls in the loft, casting a soft light without actually being bright. The rooms themselves are plunged in darkness, and Alec toes off his shoes and lets his coat and scarf fall to the floor and he pads over to the living room by feel, relishing the lack of pain assaulting his eyes.

The music is louder in the living room, but not so much that it’s painful. Alec blinks twice as he takes in the sight in front of him.

In the middle of the dark room is Magnus. He’s wearing nothing but a dark leotard, and his skin is lit by swirling strands of while magic, curling around his arms. He’s dancing.

Alec doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath.

Magnus’ face is briefly illuminated by his magic, his eyes closed and a small smile on his face. He hasn’t heard Alec come in. He seems to have banished all the furniture in the room, and he’s spinning on one foot, en pointe in ballet shoes. Small bursts of magic come out of his hands as the song picks up, swirling through the room like a wispy light whip.

Magnus starts moving faster, the ribbons of light following him. Alec knows very little about dance, but even he can tell that Magnus’ style is unique, not solely ballet but also not quite modern dance. Alec almost gasps as he does what he can only describe as a back flip and lands smoothly on his feet, spinning once more.

It’s an incredibly beautiful sight. Alec stands at the door, transfixed, until the song ends and Magnus ends the dance by lowering himself down to the floor, crossing his legs under him. The light around his body dims progressively – no, that’s not it. It seems to sink under his skin, until his whole body looks like it’s glowing. Magnus gracefully runs his hand down his arm, guiding the light inside him until it reaches the tip of his fingers and explodes in a shower of sparkles.

When everything quiets, Alec lets out the breath he’s been holding. It feels like he should applaud, but he’s loath to break the silence. Besides, he doesn’t know if Magnus would take it well, right now.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Magnus whispers, his eyes still closed.

So he did notice Alec come in.

“Magnus, it was incredible,” Alec murmurs, letting the quiet carry his voice.

Magnus opens his eyes and looks at him. They stay still for a moment, the dark room between them, eyes easy to meet in the shadows. “I like the lights and the sounds, but they’re just filling a void,” Magnus says in a soft voice. “I was trying too hard.”

“It’s okay if you need them,” Alec says. “We can find a way to meet in the middle.”

“But I don’t. I wanted to feel warm and safe, but I didn’t realize that I’ve never felt as warm and safe as when I’m with you.”

Alec smiles, the words seeping into him with their own warmth, after the cold of the streets.

“Dancing makes me feel alive,” Magnus continues. “And I’d forgotten that, too.”

“You were beautiful.”

Magnus stands up smoothly and extends a hand. “Do you want to join?”

“I don’t dance,” Alec says.

“Just let go and only look at me. My magic will help you.”

Alec tries to match Magnus’ light steps as he walks toward him. He feels a jolt when they link hands, almost like the first time, over that summoning pentagram. Magnus pulls on his arm and Alec lets go of his control, relinquishing himself to the light touches of magic he can feel over his skin.

The music starts again. Light ribbons swirl over them both as they spin together. Magnus jumps to his pointes and spins around in Alec’s arms, and their height suddenly match. The only light is the magic twirling around their limbs, immaterial and teasing. Magnus grips Alec’s forearm and lifts himself effortlessly off the ground, spinning around Alec’s body until he’s in his arms again, his back arched.

The light dims to almost nothing, sinking into their chest. Their mouths meet.

“Thank you, Alexander,” Magnus murmurs.

Alec kisses him again.

-

I'm working on an illustration of the dance scene but I wanted to post the fic tonight while it's still Christmas!

Maybe it shows that I've been watching Tiny Pretty Things. The show is kinda terrible but I love watching people dance.

Magnus here is technically dancing the part of a woman, which is why I've use the GNC Magnus and Nonbinary Magnus (as he's nonbinary in this series). Pointe shows are also traditionally worn only by women. In my mind, Magnus trained for both roles at different times in his life and he's fine with dancing either part.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Hey, Little Sonbird

Chapter 2 - Ao3

The classes were simple compared to Felix’s school in London. It was boring, but it did give him ample time to study the class. There was something wrong going on. From the way Mlle. Dupain-Cheng acted, betrayals seemed common. Or were they just common for her?

It seemed to be the case; since they sat in the back, they should have been safe from scrutiny, yet students went out of their way to turn around in their seats to glare at them. Or rather, at Dupain-Cheng. How... confusing. Felix didn’t like being confused. 

Was it possible that Dupain-Cheng had done something. It seemed so, but Felix was hesitant to place the blame on her shoulders. There was still a very real possibility that she was a gold-digger or a betrayer, but they were treating her like she was... him. How novel. 

But that wasn’t the only thing wrong with the class. At the left-front, a girl had been talking through most of the classes without being reprimanded once by Mme. Bustier. Adrien, to his minimal credit, was trying to ignore her, but the two people behind her--a boy with glasses and Lady Wifi--were listening with rapt attention. Their other classmates shot the two envious looks. Why though? Did they want to be distracted all throughout the lesson? 

The bell for lunch rang and several students bolted out the door. Dupain-Cheng sighed and started packing up her things. Felix, who hadn’t taken this things out to begin with, simply got up and tried to leave. Keyword being “tried” since as he walked down the stairs, Lady Wifi stopped him. 

“How could you do that to Lila this morning!?” She snarled, outrage twisting her face. 

“...Who?” 

“Who--” She chocked, clearly taken aback. She waved at the Italian girl who’d been talking all class, who now was bawling into her arm. “Lila! The girl who tried to guide you to class this morning. The one you pushed away and yelled at! Are you such a monster that you didn’t even bother to know who she was before lashing out!?”

He looked at her again. Funny, you’d think he’d remember doing that. “I was in the principal’s office all morning, getting my paperwork done.” The girl, Lila apparently, stiffened. “He can verify that. I’ve never met this girl before in my life, Lady Wifi.”

Lady Wifi flinched back. “That’s not-- Don’t call me that!”

The boy who’d been next to her joined in. “She has a name, you jerk!”

“I’d learn it if I cared.” Felix brushed passed them and stopped next to Lila. “Next time you lie about your betters, at least make it believable. And stop your sniveling; anyone with ears can tell it isn’t real.”

Felix left the class to their uproar. He started heading towards the front exit. Obviously he wasn’t going to eat the cafeteria food here, but he didn’t know the area well. Hopefully there would be a coffee shop nearby... 

“Felix!” Adrien latched onto his arm and he rolled his eyes. Of course. “Felix we need to talk.”

“Of course,” he mocked. “When will we make the appointment then?”

Satisfaction filled him as he saw rage cross Adrien’s face. It was gone too soon. “Come on.” Without waiting for a response, Adrien pulled him into the empty bathroom nearby. He stood in between Felix and the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Mother thought it would do me well to spend some more time in Paris while she dealt with the company.” In truth, she was hoping he could get access to the other of the Graham de Vanily rings. Mother thought that Gabriel may have started wearing it himself or that he gave it to Adrien.

Felix was a little surprised that Gabriel hadn’t reported him for the theft, though it did make sense. Aunt Emilie had stolen the rings from the family, after all. It was only Mother’s good will that she was not reported, though the rings were listed as stolen.

Adrien narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care. Are we done now? I have no desire to spent my lunch in a bathroom.”

“No. Stay away from Marinette.” His eyebrows shot up. “I know she’s your seat mate, but leave her alone. She doesn’t need you on her case too.”

“‘On her case...?’ Dear cousin, it’s like you mistake me for some sort of scoundrel. But don’t worry, I don’t plan to do anything to your little girlfriend.”

“What?” Adrien looked shocked. “Marinette’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends.”

...So his cousin was an idiot. Or blind and deaf, those were possibilities. Seriously, the girl confessed her love to him in the bluntest way possible. Felix didn’t even delete the videos off his phone! Did Adrien really think that friends just confessed their love to each other? That spoiled little... 

Felix smiled, close-mouthed. “Well, then there’s not a problem then. You can be friends, while I can... well, we’ll see. Have a good lunch, Adrien. Try not to eat so much.”

He left Adrien behind and headed outside. Honestly, did Adrien consider himself Dupain-Cheng’s keeper? A knight in shining armor that had to protect the princess from the villain? Felix wanted to be offended on her behalf, but it’s not like he knew her. Maybe she’d be flattered? 

Outside was much worse than when he left it. It had been overcast when he entered the school, but in the time in between then and now rain had started coming down. There, under the overhang, was Dupain-Cheng, rooting around in her backpack. 

Felix sighed and opened his backpack as well. There had to be something wrong with him as he took out both his main and spare umbrella. He held the spare out to Dupain-Cheng, startling her. “Here,” he offered. “I usually carry an extra.” One normally broke, but she didn’t need to know that.

She took it gingerly. “Oh... Thank you.”

“You can thank me by showing me a decent place to eat nearby,” he said, not looking at her. “I have no idea what’s good around here and I’m certainly not going to suffer through the indignity of eating cafeteria food.” 

She giggled at his disgust. “The food here isn’t that bad.”

“Ah, but that doesn’t mean it’s good either.” He opened his umbrella and stepped out into the rain. “So? Do we have a deal?”

She nodded and opened her umbrella as well, the black material shielding her from the sky above. “We do. Don’t worry, I know the perfect place.”

“I look forward to it,” Felix said, smirking at Adrien who’d been watching them from the other side of the doors. This was going to be fun.

Taglist: @graduatedmelon @novicevoice @dur55 @kris-pines04 @18-fandoms-unite-08

[mae-gi-writes]

The King's Orders - Min Yoongi/Suga (BTS Imagine

Synopsis: in which Highess Min Yoongi suddenly confesses to his Second In Command, Kim Yuna.

Word count: 2K

Genre: Fluff, makeout sesh ooph

---------

I pull back just in time to avoid Min Yoongi's sword that slices through thin air. It's made out of carved wood and wouldn't have done any damage apart from causing a few bruises, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting like a bitch.

He skids over to the other side and re-aligns himself in that perfect, combat stance he's so used to. I stand there leisurely on the opposite side, one hand resting at my hip and my own wooden sword cradled at my side.

"I don't understand," I murmur, the words carried over to him as the wind blows through my hair in a gentle caress.

His scowl, presently etched onto his face, deepens even more if that's possible, "there's nothing to understand," he spits back with such vigour that I would've flinched if I was anyone else, "I don't want her."

But I stand up straighter, "you need her to keep your peace," I hiss.

"Not like this," he charges at me again, swinging his sword over in a swift movement. But I block it in time and our weapons clatter against each other with such force that I feel its vibrations shoot up my arms. Yoongi's eyes are dark, narrowed with ferocity as he breathes out, "I swore to myself that I wouldn't marry out of honour, or pity, or convenience. I can sacrifice many things, Yuna. But not this, not my happiness."

"There's another word for that, back where I come from," I reply with sarcasm dripping from my tone as I narrowly avoid his kick, blocking it halfway to my abdomen. I grip his leg and swiftly throw him off, causing the said raven-haired man to tumble to the ground.

I stand over him, grinning, "it's called 'coward'."

Yoongi's scowl turn into a full out glare, and before I know it, he has jumped to his feet and is jabbing at me once more, his body as light as a feather as we dance around each other in a series of fists and flying limbs. He's faster than I am, with more power driven through his movements. But I know him, anticipate him and can read him like any other. So I dodge and duck and just make a fool out of him as he keeps trying to catch me off-guard.

"So what?" I ask, blocking his punch and swinging an uppercut to his stomach. He grunts in pain and I jump back when his other arm jabs at my face, "are you going to sacrifice your soldiers, go in a full-out war just because you don't want to marry her?"

"Last I heard, I don't think you had a say in what I can or can't do."

I punch, he jumps back and throws a roundhouse kick. I duck and scamper over the floor before jumping onto his back, causing him to yelp in surprise, "and last I heard, all these decisions weren't about you, but about what's best for your people—"

Yoongi throws us both to the ground and I roll, but not quickly enough, for he makes a grab for my arms and pin them above my head, legs straddling my thighs and leaning over to press his entire weight on my body so that there was no attempt of escape. Though I try to throw him off, his grip is tight and hard, unrelenting. My eyes wander up to catch the intense emotion swirling through his dark orbs and something inside me coils in a tight, anxious knot.

As Yoongi's first in command, I had always been by his side, good or bad, thick or thin, happy or sad. It didn't matter, I saw it all, I saw what he could do and how much he could take. My father, who had been a chief commander of the Royal Highness back before Yoongi's dad had retired, had been killed during the last war with the Kangs Dynasty and thus, his Royal Highness had placed Yoongi into my care, for while I was a girl, I had inherited my father's superb fighting skills, skills that couldn't go unnoticed.

Not that I was complaining. I'd rather beat a thousand thugs than sit around drinking tea and discussing the latest gossip happening around town.

So it's an understatement to say that I know exactly what Yoongi is feeling at this exact moment. I can feel his torment, the agitation boiling through his blood. He's restless, had been pacing around for the past few days. In order to end the feud between the Min and the Kang Dynasty, the only solution was a unison of power, and that meant a marriage contract between his Royal Highness Min and the Kang Heiress. It was a pact that Highness Kang had been more than happy to oblige to, but Yoongi's attitude towards the matter had been far from pleasant, albeit the fact that he knows a refusal will lead to a full-out war.

And while I consider myself a pretty decent fighter — one fo the best— I'd be lying to myself to say that the Kang's army are an easy defeat. They're not, and Yoongi knows it just as much.

"For once," Yoongi's breath is staggered, chest heaving as his eyes lock on my own, "for just once in my life, Yuna, I want to choose something because I can. Not because I have to."

"You know that's only going to bring misery," I snap back while trying to ignore the fury of butterflies that suddenly erupt through my chest when he leans in closer, breath washing over my face in a tantalizing manner that causes warmth to burst through my cheeks.

Min Yoongi has a charisma, a charm that's beyond any comprehension. He's a born leader, a true king bound by blood. But his heart, it's made of gold, and no one can deny that. Under all that snide, cold-hearted appearance lives a man who fears trusting people and who has spent his life figuring out if others like him because of his money, his heritage, or just because they like him.

And I guess that's why we're so close. Because I don't want anything from him.

"Yoongi, just think about it. If you marry her, you'd be saving millions of lives—"

"I don't love her," he snaps, "I want nothing to do with her. She's bland and boring and just too perfect."

"Give her a chance," I insist, searching for understanding on his face, "who knows, maybe she'll make you happy, maybe she'll turn out to be exactly like—"

"I don't want her."

"Yoongi—"

"Just—please," his head comes to a rest against my neck then, tired out by our incessant arguing. His breaths are warm, colliding with my skin in the most enticing way that I have to gulp at the closeness, "please don't say that."

"Say what?" I struggle to keep my thoughts coherent when the said man is so close and practically pressing his entire frame against mine.

It is no secret amongst the guards that I might harbour a few unrequited feelings with his highness himself but there had never been any good reason for me to act upon them. It just can't happen. I'm a guard and he's a king. It's never going to work. But with him practically invading my personal space and breathing the same air as I am, it's making my head spin with unnecessary thoughts that cause my blood to pump with sudden adrenaline.

"Say that she'll be good for me," Yoongi's lips are practically brushing against the crook of my neck at this point, and tingles shoot down my spine, "she's not what I want, I don't even know her—"

"Well," I try to croak out weakly, "maybe you two can get to know each other—"

"You're not even listening me."

"I am! But it's just—"

"I don't want her."

"You're so pessimistic—" the words die in my throat the moment I feel the softest flutter of lips over the skin at my neck. I swallow thickly, blinking up at the sky that is now blazing in a fiery orange degrading into soft midnight blues.

What in the world does he think he's doing?

"Y—Yoongi?" I breathe, unsure whether I should say more. Did he just—

I feel it again. Another softest pressure of lips against my neck, closer to my jaw this time. I tense up automatically, arms trying to entangle themselves from his grip, but he only tightens his hold.

"Yoongi—"

All attempts of escape seem futile when the man starts a slow path of warm pecks up the curve of my neck, ghosting over my jaw, each kiss leaving hot trails of warmth in their wake. Tingles shoot up and down my spine at the contact. Unconsciously, my back arches into him and as a response his body just slides in-between my legs, causing a soft gasp to fall from my lips.

His mouth then moves to my jaw, pressing kiss after kiss that causes my heart to stutter and pause as though it's a car that can't function properly, as though the rest of the world has fallen away with only Yoongi and I left. For a moment, if I close my eyes for long enough, I can imagine that he's mine and just mine.

When he finally pulls back far enough to look into my eyes, I'm surprised at the tenderness I find lingering in those inky pools of black, mixed in with a passion that causes another wave of butterflies to erupt through my chest.

"I don't want her," he murmurs for the third time, voice hoarse and so deep that it takes a moment for my brain to register what he's saying, "I want you." 

The next thing I know, his lips are crashing down onto mine.

He cuts off any responding words lingering on the edge of my tongue, cupping my mouth with his in such a passionate embrace that I almost forget how to breathe. I kiss back after a slight beat of hesitation and a purr resounds from his throat, before his mouth latches onto mine and practically sweeps me off my feet. His hands slowly slide down, one of them cupping my face to gain more access, slanting his lips more intimately against mine, while his other hand trails down to wrap around my waist in a way that would've made any decent lady blush. 

Nevermind that we're in the middle of the training grounds and visible to any outsider eye, nevermind that we're both sweaty and lying in dirt as we kiss and move against each other like fish gliding through water. Nothing matters in this moment, except for Yoongi's lips and the fire that's slowly building inside my stomach as my arms wrap around his neck to pull him even closer. 

His tongue flickers out then, the tiniest movement against my lips which I instantly part for him in a silent gasp,  his hand at my hip squeezing in anticipation while his wet muscle slowly induces mine in a soft, sensual massage that only causes me to moan softly without meaning to. My hands unconsciously tightening their hold, I allow my fingers to trail up, tugging at his locks. Yoongi grunts in response, shifting even closer so that we're separated by nothing but the lightest layer of clothes.

When we finally break apart, I take this chance to gasp for air and regain my breathing, mind still reeling from our earlier contact as I feel Yoongi's mouth travel over my jaw and pepper it with soft kisses that causes desire to curl through my chest.

"Yoongi," I manage to breathe out in-between his littering of kisses that find their way down my neck, "what are--what are we doing?"

He lets out a small grunt, before he lifts his head and gazes at me through heavy eyelids filled with desire, "what we should've done ages ago."

I stare at him. My mouth opens, then closes when I realize my brain is trying to piece together any form of coherence. Though that seems to be useless in duch a situation.

I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I barely notice Yoongi's hand reaching out to trail his thumb over my cheekbone. My eyes lift to find his swirling with a tenderness, a fragile sort of affection, one that makes my heart squeeze in delight.

"I--We can't," I say weakly, though my heart is screaming at me in indignance.

"I know," he presses his lips together for a moment, pinning me down with those dark eyes, "but I'm done playing King. I'm telling you this, as Min Yoongi. I want you, no one else."

[avelera]

Shower thought, but I think I realized why creating a character who “wants” something is often so vexing and difficult for authors. 

The problem is you have this character who you need to save the world, somehow, because saving the world is the plot of your story. So you make the thing they want to do be... saving the world. But that’s dull, someone’s life can’t just be about Performing Your Plot, it makes them one dimensional. 

So you step back a bit. Ok, so you make their motivation to “Be A Good Person” - that solves it, right? Now they want to perform your plot! 

Except that’s the root of a lot of very boring protagonists. These Dudley Do-Rights don’t seem to want anything before or after the story is complete. They’re aimless or aimlessly Doing Good or looking for a chance to Do Good until they hear The World Needs Saving, and a good person would save it, so then they save it, and then they... bask in having saved the world? Do More Good? How much more good can you get than saving the world? Now their life lacks purpose, if it was just about saving the world and performing your plot, or they’re just paragons of goodness and they’re similarly at loose ends until another Bad Thing happens for them to be Good against. This makes them dull (or non-specific paragons of goodness), which in general do not make for very interesting characters. 

Furthermore, now your antagonist has all the interesting character notes because the antagonist is the one who put the world in danger in the first place, presumably, so they’re doing something cool and unique to get the action of the story moving, by wanting something cool and unique which in this case is wanting to put the world in danger, while your protagonist is just there to stand around until things go bad and then stop the bad-but-interesting thing from happening so we can go back to the uninteresting, but supposedly preferable, status quo. 

Ok, so here’s what you need: your protagonist should not want to do the thing that is the plot for its own sake, rather the thing they want should bring them in confrontation with your plot. Let’s give a few examples of what I mean below the cut:

Let’s start with Pacific Rim since it’s my current fandom. The movie has an A Plot Protagonist and a B Plot Protagonist, in my opinion, and one of them is a Paragon character while the latter is actually interesting.

The A Plot protagonist - Raleigh Becket. He’s a heroic pilot whose one desire in life seems to be to save the world and be a good person, I guess? He’s briefly taken out of commission when his brother/co-pilot dies and needs to be convinced to Perform the Plot and help save the world to launch our story. However, once he’s convinced, we get no real personal character notes about what he’s going to do before and after the world is saved except maybe settle down for a vague Happily Ever After. He’s a hero who wants to be heroic and beyond that his character lacks purpose, which certainly makes him a good “person” but a very dull character who doesn’t attract a lot of fandom attention. 

The B Plot protagonist - Dr. Newt Geiszler. He’s an otaku fan boy genius scientist who, when monsters arose from the sea, found his calling in life to study them. This brought him into contact with the main plot since the people trying to defeat the monsters are the people with the most access to the thing he, personally, wants to do, which is study those monsters. Not solve the plot, not save the world. He loves monsters and he wants to study them. Before the plot began he was doing science and loving the idea of monsters and after the plot is solved he’ll probably still be studying what they learned about those monsters and giving lectures about them (or, canonically, dealing with the fallout of the plot where he went too far studying monsters). His love of studying monsters brings him to the plot where he’s uniquely suited to discovering the monster’s (our main antagonist’s) plans on how they’ll destroy the world. Being a good person means he’s motivated to learn all he can and he helps save the day with his unique skill set, not because his goal in life was to save the world, but because when confronted with a situation where he can help by doing the thing he already wants to do, he chooses to take action and faces many personal trials and tribulations in the meantime. This makes him a rounded, likable character that we want to follow and it makes him a fandom darling. 

Let’s go with another recent example: Good Omens. It’s less A Plot/B Plot here but we have multiple protagonists so I can use them to compare and contrast. 

Anathema Device - like Raleigh Becket, her goal in life is to Perform the Plot. What did she want to do before that? What does she want to do after? Presumably settle down for a Happily Ever After, but we don’t really know that. Does she collect tropical fish? Does she have other interests beyond Saving the World and Performing the Plot? Presumably, but we never really see them. As a result, she has very little character to latch onto and is generally a bit forgettable. 

Aziraphale and Crowley (as a unit or individually) - Aziraphale wants to collect books and go to the Ritz with Crowley. Crowley wants to enjoy Earth and go to the Ritz with Aziraphale. When the world is threatened with the Apocalypse they realize they’re both idiots who unfortunately live here and they don’t want the world to end and interrupt their lives. Being angels and demons, they are uniquely suited to helping to save the world and (with some convincing on Aziraphale’s part), they take purposeful action to save it because they can and because it allows them to get what they really want, which is to collect books, enjoy the world, and continue to spend time together. We know what they were doing before the plot began and what they’re doing after to some extent, we know who they are as fleshed out “people” and we can fill in the gaps, which makes them fandom darlings. Their desire from the dawn of time wasn’t “save the world” it was “enjoy the world” and now the world needs saving which makes the thing they want bring them into confrontation with our plot and their choice to get involved and the trials they suffer as a result of their choice make us like them. 

If you examine many of the more forgettable protagonists, you’ll find again and again that all they want to do is Perform the Plot as their only goal. Interesting characters, however, have desires and goals that are tangental to the plot and all their own, but those wants and desires intertwine with the plot, or are interrupted by the plot in such a way that they must solve the plot to get what they want out of life. 

Instead of making your protagonist’s only desire in life be “be a good person” or “solve the plot” give them something they want that the plot interrupts so it must be solved (save the world so I can keep dining at the Ritz) or have them want something that the plot advances so by joining onto the plot they get more of the thing they personally want (saving the world allows me to better study and understand monsters and it behooves me to help out if I can). 

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM Revised Manga chapters 99 - 100 Review: Not today, Satan

Hoo hoo hoo.  When Murata said he had a bit of work to do for the volume, we had no idea just how extensive it was!   There isn’t a single chapter appearing in volume 22 that hasn’t been edited or reworked.  And the mighty struggle between Child Emperor and Phoenixman has changed unrecognisably!  Shall we go?

A bit of a difference, yes

Story: forget what you thought you knew

The first change comes nearly right away.  Rather than leaving Waganma behind, Child Emperor keeps him in Brave Giant’s backpack, freeing both hands to fight.   The fight between Phoenixman and Brave Giant is interesting, but it’s much lighter going than before  for a very specific reason: the monster sees a connection between himself and Child Emperor and is hoping to keep the costume the hero is wearing intact so he can recruit a fellow costumed monster.

And now it gets freaky.  Phoenixman can summon another costume-wearer to a timeless spiritual space in which they can talk.  Don’t ask me how!   Phoenixman latches onto Child Emperor’s desire to find someplace where he’s trusted and his efforts are appreciated right away,  coming terrifyingly close to converting him into a monster -- until he harshes the vibe with a terrible name for the monster he’d like Child Emperor to become.  It made my skin crawl, how close he came.

what a terrifying monster!  Had he stopped speaking with the above words, he’d have created a monster indeed!

They resume fighting, and eventually Child Emperor smashes him through the floor as in the previous versions, which doesn’t have the effect of killing him so he can reincarnate.  Instead, it ‘just’ launches them both through several floors, through the lake of death, and down lower still. The water sweeps Saitama along as well, and all of them fetch up in a charnel house, where all the dead Subterraneans have ended up.

Phoenixman makes a second attempt to persuade Child Emperor. This time he gets closer, sowing seeds of doubt about the goodness of the Hero Association higher-ups into Child Emperor’s head quite directly -- there’s no need for them to talk.  Whatever it is he reveals to the boy, it is quite grisly.  Thankfully, the spell is broken by Saitama who just bashes into their spiritual realm to declare his disapproval of what the monster is doing, which breaks the spell.

no traumatising children on my watch!  Trouble is, Child Emperor isn’t going to forget whatever it is that he’s been told -- this is going to be trouble later.

Just as they snap back to the real world, another wonderful intervention occurs.  Zombieman calls, ostensibly to tell Child Emperor about his speculation about the possibility of the Monster Association using the Metal Knight to build robots of their own proving right,  but really to thank and encourage him.  Giving him the very thing he’d been so desperate to hear from the start.

Since he’d been unable to persuade Child Emperor to turn into a monster spontaneously, Phoenixman tried the other way: by dropping a monster cell into the machine so that all the boy had to do would be to take a bite. It’s a good thing that monster cells cannot work unless they’re consumed of one’s own free will.   Despite the pressure being applied to him by the monster cell trying to crawl into his mouth,  the zombies trying to tear Brave Giant apart, and Brave Giant’s own time limit,  Child Emperor holds firm and finds at heart what’s really important: that heroism is an inner quality, not an external one.

And then the true nature of Phoenixman comes out:

don’t be fooled: you can only trust a monster to be a monster

In keeping with his inner self-reliance, Child Emperor destroys Brave Giant himself, immolating the zombies along with it.  Phoenixman tries to take advantage of the situation to kill Child Emperor, being fouled by Saitama long enough for the kid to slip a ticklebug into his costume.

I totally wasn’t expecting this to happen as a result!

the most pathetic monster ever -- please nobody kill him in case he can resurrect stronger

I was irrationally pleased to see Underdogman 24 come find his master, still functional enough to get them out of there (with a subtle push from Saitama).  On we go!

Okay, Saitama will be back soon to find where the rude monster that tried to grab them en route came from.  He still needs to find those noisy neighbours! 

Meta: Not today, Satan

I get two big things out of this story.

First, at the beginning of the year, I mused that OPM wasn’t at heart a battle manga.  Rather, it was a manga that had battles (link).  Core is the relationship between the small jihad (the struggle against external enemies) and the big jihad (the struggle with oneself to be a better person and lead a good life). I’d used Saitama as the examplar of this struggle.

I was a bit (a lot) confused by the changes at first, but I think that fundamentally,  the changes are so as to come back to that important inner struggle that so much of OPM is about.

I thought that Child Emperor's struggle is appropriate to a ten-year old. He's old enough not to have blind faith in adults, but young enough to really need good, reliable ones around and to know that his efforts are truly appreciated.  It’s been an issue for several chapters now: right from the first time we saw Child Emperor, being told he was still a child was a great way to piss him off.

Phoenixman sensing that, worked so beautifully and sweetly on his insecurities that he seemed almost a friend.  Surely no one could resist...

Thankfully, Child Emperor does have good adults in his life, ones who show up when most needed.  Saitama shows up in the spiritual world when Child Emperor feels most cornered by Phoenixman’s spiel and lets him know that he sees what’s happening and it’s not okay for Phoenixman to be pressuring a child so -- giving him strength to resist without taking the struggle away from him.  Zombieman called to thank him, and let him know that his efforts were seen and appreciated.  Reminding him too, that there were adults he looked up to.  It’s so awesome to see that even though he’s blindingly smart, Child Emperor still has some things he aspires to be.

ah, how much your divinely-timed words meant, Zombieman!

Previously, Phoenixman had been mocking Child Emperor for being a kid, for being misled by the adults,  and had been fascinated by the possibility that he too could get stuck in his costume, but those were secondary themes against a backdrop of the terror of an ever-growing monster that just would not die. Fortunately, this rewrite, Child Emperor could only push Phoenixman to the point of death that first time, so he never got access to those bigger, scarier forms and thus the fight to keep one’s soul human could take primacy.

Too, I think that Saitama’s presence, lending the boy hero a subtle hand when he most needs it, was very important in grounding the story.   Rather than being an all-but-perfect person who already had all the answers and has all the toys needed to enact them, Child Emperor may still need a hand, without it being a discredit in any way to his intelligence, determination, courage, or inventiveness. The threat posed to him by Phoenixman is just that potent.

whoops, can’t let you do that -- you won’t be eviscerating children on my watch

Second, the story has gone almost Buddhist about the sin of attachment.  So many monsters are about the thing they're obsessed with.  Even if it's a good thing (like justice -- eh, Amai Mask?), that attachment is what warps them.  Phoenixman refusing to take off his Birdbrain costume because he was so invested in the character he couldn't accept it was over, literally refusing to take it off even if it killed him.

It's putting into context the thing I intuited about monsters (link) -- that they get rid of conflict and regret.  It feels good to be a monster. Being human means feeling the pain, the regret, the conflict, accepting loss, and moving on.  Monsters don’t have to do that.  They get to get all that they want, at the expense of their humanity.

unhealthy attachment -- literally

Other Business

1. The Monster Association really does have scientists.  Whether with Machine God G5′s help or not, they’ve wasted no time in finding out how to make Metal Knight-based robots.  Thankfully, they’ve also copied the machine’s weak spots and don’t seem to have the super-resistant materials the original would be made of.  Still... that’s worrying.  Are the minds and hands that worked on this really dead?  What else have they learned?

2. It was so wholesome to see Saitama provide support and encouragement to Child Emperor, stepping in whenever the boy was about to be overcome but otherwise letting him use his wits and courage to deal with the situation.  How I wish he’d do so for his disciple!  It’d mean so much!  Even if it’s just to give an encouraging smile.

3. It took me a couple of rereads to see it, but the ninja duo have been strapped to the side of Underdogman 24.  Saitama means to collect this bounty! More bbq meat for him.

4. Gosh, it’s going to be positively crowded at the surface!  We’ll have two evil ex-zombie monster ninjas, the support heroes, Waganma, Child Emperor, Saitama, the mercenaries and the disciples all having a fresh air party.   Doubtless various people will be departing for various locations soon enough, but this should be a fun mix.  

5. Saitama is so absurdly over-powerful that even when he does his thing right in front of people, they can’t understand what happened.  No wonder he gets no credit.

6. I really, really, really appreciate getting to see more of Waganma’s thoughts.  Yes, they’re selfish, but his desire to keep quiet in order to not be plunged back into the hell he’s grateful to be leaving are very understandable!  Previously, he’d seemed sociopathic.

7.  So Child Emperor thinks that most of his fellow Class S heroes are either evil, evil-looking, evil-acting, or just plain weird?  Not nice at all.

he still has some way to go in learning how to not judge by appearance

8.  But Zombieman is just wholesome.  Especially his promise to treat Child Emperor to milkshake afterwards.  Let it happen!

[lu-undy]

Chapter 69 - SBT

Here it is!

"Gosh…" 

"Hm?"

"I can't get enough of you, Lu'." 

The ex-spy smiled. Their limbs were entangled in the bed. Mundy was playing with Lucien's long hair and the Frenchman was simply staring at him with lovestruck eyes.

"Neither can I."

Mundy took a handful of Lucien's silky locks and put them under his nose. 

"Even your smell's beautiful…" He shut his eyes.

"What do I smell like?" Lucien asked. 

Mundy opened his eyes and smiled at Lucien. 

"Home." He answered.

"Look at you being the poet…!"

Mundy blushed and his smile widened as Lucien moved closer to kiss him. Lucien's hand moved to his cheek and his lips nipped at Mundy's with a wide smile, and a chuckle. Their lips connected and parted with a loud lapping noise. 

"Your hair's bloody beautiful, luv'." 

"I had in mind to cut it at some point, but if you prefer it long…"

"You do what you want, Lu', it's your hair, eh?" 

"Oui but what would you prefer?" 

"I… I quite like it long actually…" 

Lucien smiled.

"What about me? Like it short or…?"

"Oui. You look wild enough without the long hair." Lucien winked and Mundy chuckled. 

"Right…" 

Lucien laid his head under Mundy's jaw, on his chest again and closed his eyes. Soon, their very breaths synced up. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"Will we ever… Come back to the city and stuff or…?" 

The Frenchman sighed. 

"I cannot access anything that will let the French or any other secret services know about my surviving." 

"Ok, what do we do?" 

"I will write a will." 

"Uh… Luv', wills are supposed to be written before you die, eh?" 

"Oh we will put a fake date and you will say that you have found it amongst my things." 

"Ok, why?" 

"I will leave all my money to you. Meanwhile, you will need to go to Maurice and ask him for a coffee, with milk and two sugars." 

"What?! Hold on, what's it gotta do with the plan?" 

Lucien chuckled. 

"It is a code, not an actual invitation."

"What's it mean?" 

"Tell him that Paris wants a coffee with two sugars and a drop of milk. Then, give him the will, he will sort everything out." 

Mundy frowned. 

"Ok but what's it mean?" 

"It means I am alive and need a new identity."

"Oh… So your name won't be Lucien de Beauregard anymore?" Lucien looked up at Mundy. "That's what's written on your tombstone, luv'. Sorry if I butchered it by the way."

"You remember it?"

"I can't really forget. I felt awful when the priest said your full name. I realised that even though I loved you to bits, I didn't even know your name."

"It doesn't matter."

"It did. I felt bad." Mundy frowned. 

"Mon amour… I am sorry. I never thought my last name would be relevant to anything." Lucien answered. 

"It's ok, I don't care now, but it was just… weird." 

"Do you know what it means?" Lucien asked.

"What what means?" 

"My last name." 

"No, what?" 

"Literally, Lucien of the beautiful gaze." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"Wow… So your eyes are a family thing or what?" 

"One could say so. What about you?" Lucien asked. 

"Me?"

"Oui, what is your last name? Mundy the Wild Wolf?"

"Pff…" Mundy chuckled. "Nah, Turner." 

"Mundy Turner." Lucien repeated with his accent. "I like it." 

"You'd better, cause I'm not gonna change it." Mundy scratched Lucien's scalp through his hair and the Frenchman closed his eyes. "So then, you won't be Lu' anymore?"

"Not for the world, but only you and the few people who know me will still call me L, or Lu'." 

"What new name will you go for?" 

"Do you have ideas?" Lucien asked. 

"No, I don't know a lot of French names, eh… You choose."

"I was thinking of using my second name, Louis." 

"Louis?" 

"Oui." 

"And for your last name? Hard to top up Lu' with the beautiful eyes, eh? Or maybe you can go for Louis the handsome bloke or something?" Mundy chuckled.

"I might." Lucien answered and kissed Mundy's cheek.

"Does Maurice know about you…?" 

"I think he has his doubts and won't be very surprised."

"Right. We can do all that faff tomorrow then."

"Oui, for now, let us enjoy the night together…" Lucien slid a leg between Mundy's.

"Oh… Wow… Alright…"

"Too much?" 

"Nah, it's just… Nice." 

Lucien smiled. 

"Good." 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"Somethin' I thought about after you died…"

"Tell me." 

"I couldn't even tell Pearl cause she was still a baby but uh… Well, I don't even know how to say it… Ahem, y'know usually when two people like each other quite a bit and uh… They spend some nights together and uh…" 

"Oui." 

"Well, I was thinking about us and I was surprised that we never… Y'know…" 

Lucien smiled. 

"Oui, I know. Do you think we should?" 

"N-no, that's weird to think about it that way. No, I was just surprised that we never did it. I mean, before you, I remember that waitress for example. Didn't know her at all. I just went to her pub once. She latched onto me and asked me about my van and stuff."

"Ooh, mon loup has his successes, hm…?" 

Mundy blushed. 

"Nah, I mean…"

"Go on." 

"Yeah, so she asked me to come back after her shift. I had nothin' else to do, so I came back in the evenin'. We got some takeaway and had dinner with it at her place and then… Ugh…"

"And then you concluded with her?" 

"Well, not really. She was the one who wanted it and she started it."

"What about you?" 

"I didn't really care."

Lucien frowned slightly and looked up at his lover. 

"You… did not really care?" 

"Yeah. I mean, it's ok to do it, feels nice on the body but… I wasn't really feeling anythin' with her."

"Oh… Fair enough. What happened between you two then?" 

"Next morning, I took my stuff and left. Never seen her again." 

"You felt ashamed?" 

"No." 

"You felt proud?" 

"No. It's weird. I didn't feel anythin'. I went back to the van, drove to the lake here and had a swim." 

"Mundy, do you mind me asking how long it has been since you felt something for someone?" 

"Before you? Uh… More than ten years for sure." 

"Hm." 

"You?" 

"Likewise."

"Oh, ok."

"And then I met you and I couldn't pull you out of my head, however hard I tried."

"Thanks, luv'." Mundy kissed Lucien's head. 

"May I also confess a thought I had after I supposedly passed away?" 

"Sure." 

Lucien found Mundy's hand under the bed cover and slid his fingers between the Aussie's.

"Do you remember the bath we took together at the hotel?"

"Yeah, course I do." 

"It was the most romantic thing I had done in more than a decade. The candles, the bubbles… Your naked skin against mine. I enjoyed it almost too much."

"Too much?" Mundy asked. 

"Oui, too much." 

"What d'you mean?" 

"I mean that my body almost betrayed me in that bath, under the bubbles. I was glad I was laying on top of you and not the other way around or you would have felt it."

"Oh, you mean-?"

"Oui." 

"Well, uh… You do the same to me, eh. I, uh, I love you too much I guess." Mundy answered, blushing beyond his ears.

The embrace tightened and Lucien started kissing Mundy's chest and neck again. 

"L-Lu'…?" The Aussie raised his head to offer more of his neck to Lucien.

"I want to love you." Lucien whispered and Mundy felt his beard scratching his skin in the most delicious way. Soon, Lucien's lips were on his but this time, both parties wanted it to last.

Lucien straddled his lover and laced his fingers between Mundy's, pinning his hands left and right.

"Bugger…" 

They did not wait long before adding the French to the kiss and Mundy hoped to God he wasn't too rusty. On the other hand, Lucien seemed more than confident and well-practised in that art… 

He took Mundy's tongue on a voyage, it was sent to explore, taste and rediscover sensations long gone and forgotten. Mundy even forgot to breathe and when he gasped for air, Lucien couldn't hold back a chuckle. 

The Frenchman's straight, silky hair fell on them both and Mundy wished he could touch it… Ah, it was an obsession that hair now! He didn't know he could be that sensitive and attracted by it. 

But what kept on burning his insides was the slow dance of the tongue that Lucien was taking him to. A sensual, mellow, and slick waltz of the tastes. Mundy rolled up his eyes and let Lucien lead on things. 

The Frenchman had frowned, he was trying to write, to sing and to paint at the same time. He wanted Mundy to understand. He wanted him to see, hear and taste how much he loved him and beyond that maybe, how much he wanted him. 

Oui, they had never done it before. But it didn't feel right for either of them. Lucien freed Mundy's hand to grasp his hair and Mundy went straight for his hips, pulling them flush against his own.

"Oh, mon Dieu, Mundy…"

Lucien seemed to like it. Good, that's nice. Mundy kept their hips in contact and it quickly escalated for both of them. They could both feel it, through their hot kisses, their shy moans rising in volume, the friction of their clothes. Yes, tension was rising and with it, a desire they hadn't felt in years…

"M-Mundy, wait." 

Mundy stopped sharp. Both were breathing heavily. 

"Sorry, I thought you wanted to…?"

"I do. But…" Lucien was sitting on Mundy's hips straddling them. 

"Hey, it's fine, luv'. If you don't feel like it, I won't force you or anything."

"Non, I do want it but…" Lucien bent down and laid on Mundy. "Last time I did that was ages ago, and with a woman." 

"W-wait, you mean since Mary you never…?" 

"Non. I never found anyone else. So I didn't." 

"Oh…"

"Especially not a man. I fear I might be… Rusty."

"Mate, same for me eh. But I don't care that you're rusty or not. I won't grade you over this. You do what feels good as long as we both like it…" Mundy brushed Lucien's hair with his fingers. "You don't have anythin' to prove to me. I love you." 

"I know. I just feel a bit… ashamed." 

"Why?" 

"I used to be a man who knew what he was doing with all this and now, I cannot even kiss you without over-thinking it." 

"Can I tell you somethin' a bit serious, love?" 

"Oui?" Lucien raised his head off of Mundy's chest to look him in the eye. 

"No offense but that man you're talking about, that's not the man I love." 

Lucien's eyebrows jumped. 

"No, I don't even know him. The Lu' that I fell for is the one who cries when he sings, who smiles and plays silly with me. The one who adopted a kitten and loved her like his own daughter. I never saw the womaniser spy in you. I saw a bloke who had a responsibility, like me, and we did what we had to." Mundy pushed Lucien's hair behind his ear. "I think that you haven't been that cold-blooded spy that you think you are for a long, long time. You just held on to the image because that's what you think you are. But you could ask anyone, that's not what they see of you."

Lucien raised interrogative eyebrows. 

"If you were at the funeral, you heard everyone. No one said you were a cold-blooded, seducing machine. Nah, people said you were generous, compassionate. You saved people more than you killed. Bastien took your words and is workin' his arse off to become what he wants, hell, even Victoria admitted she saw you like the dad she wished she had… No one mentioned your success with sheilas, y'know why?"

"Why?" 

"Because you're so much more than that. You're so much more beautiful than that. People see your looks first, yeah, but when they get to know you, they don't see the looks anymore, they see what you're hidin' here." Mundy poked Lucien's chest gently. "And they remember it for life, because you changed theirs." 

Lucien smiled with glistening eyes and he bit his lip to hold himself back. 

"Hey…" Mundy put a hand on Lucien's bearded cheek. "Gettin' emotional, are we?" 

Lucien simply nodded and leaned his head in Mundy's warm palm. 

"It's alright, love. But eh, I just want you to understand this. I don't expect anything from you and I don't care about any of these things." Mundy smiled. "I lost you once and I don't want this to happen ever again. So please… Stop thinking that you're disappointin' me or other kind of nonsense like that, ok?" 

Lucien nodded again, his eyes still wet. 

"I love you. I love the you that I met and that I have in front of me, not the one from twenty bloody years ago." 

Lucien smiled. 

"I love you." He answered, and his voice shook under the sobs that he gulped down hard in his throat. 

"C'mere." Mundy pulled Lucien to lie down on him and the Frenchman obliged. "You get what I said?" 

"Oui." 

"You sure?" 

"Oui." 

"So now, whenever you do anythin', don't do it like you're L the spy. Do it like you're my Lu'." 

Lucien slid his hands between Mundy's back and the mattress and hugged him close. 

"Get it?" 

"Oui." 

"Gimme a kiss." 

Lucien raised his head and put his lips against Mundy. 

"Wanna cry?"

"I think so." 

"Ok, do it." 

"Non, not with you." 

"Lu', what did I just say…? Quit tryin' to be arrogant or anythin'. Just be you. You wanna cry? Then, bloody cry. Why d'you have to bottle everything up? 's not good." 

"I don't want to make you distraught or make you worry about me." 

"I worry about you more when you bottle everythin' up in that tiny head of yours. You gotta let it go."

Lucien slid his hands on Mundy's chest and grabbed his tee-shirt.

"It's alright. I love you." 

Lucien closed his eyes and his tears started to flow down.

"You gotta learn how to feel normally now. The spy's dead and his secrets are dead with him." 

"What am I then? I've always been a spy." 

"You're my everythin'. You're my home, my family, my love, everything. I really mean it, Lu' you hear me? Once we sort your new name out, we'll find you somethin' to do, something you like and something without any spooky business. Something clean." 

"Like what?" Lucien sniffed. 

"Y'know, since I stopped hunting, I'm just helpin' Maurice out. I don't earn much, but it's enough for the cats and me. You could help too, if you want." 

"I want to be with you, always." His voice was still trembling.

"And you will, don't worry. I'm sure Maurice could use an extra pair of hands. And Pearl got herself a job there too." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah," Mundy adjusted the blanket on Lucien's back and brushed his hands along the Frenchman's spine. "She does the pest control side of things. She hunts all the mice down, especially in the kitchens."

Lucien smiled between his tears. 

"But yeah, if that's what you want, we can do that. And if not, you just have to say what you wanna do, I'm sure we can find something." 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Mundy, I won't lie to you, ever again." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"If you love me as much as I do you, then I have to be more than just a partner in crime. I have to… I have to be honest with you."

Those words seemed so hard to get out that they sounded like they had torn Lucien's jaw. 

"You don't have to do anythin', Lu'. You just gotta understand how normal people live, because you're one of them now."

He sniffed again and another train of tears ran along his cheeks.

"I'll keep on bein' myself with you, and you keep on being yourself too. The only difference is that now your head's much lighter cause you can take all the spooky business, all the nonsense and tell it all to piss off out of your mind, ok?"

"I don't know if I can do that." 

"Course you can. But I understand you can just do it in one go and all. It'll take time, I guess. That's fine, we got a whole lifetime to go." 

"Vraiment?"

"What?" 

"I meant, really?" 

"Yeah. I don't want anyone else, y'know. And uh, I really need to take you to my parents. They've got to meet you, really." 

Lucien smiled against Mundy's chest. 

"Y-you make me feel like a normal bloke too, y'know?" 

"How so?" 

"Feels like I can settle down with you. I mean, yeah, you're not a sheila so we're not exactly normal but…"

"We are both old adults and we are choosing this of our own accord. I don't believe that we are hurting anyone." 

"Well, I'm not, but there's crates of fan mail from sheilas to disagree with you on that, eh?" 

They both chuckled. 

"Perhaps, oui."

"Yeah, I feel like I'm finding my place with you. Y'know, same as you're not a spy anymore, I'm not a hunter either. I'm just a bloke with cats. Christ, I've turned into the weird old lady with cats, but I'm a bloke…?" 

Lucien chuckled. 

"What next, Mundy, hm? Will you throw bread at the ducks in the park and nourish the pigeons?" 

"Shut up, you…!" 

They chuckled and hugged tighter as they kissed again and again. 

"Thank you so much, Mundy." 

"Yeah, well, thank you too, eh? You make me feel like I'm a… I'm a…" 

"What is it? Say it, mon amour." 

"A proper man."

[bytemycupcakes]

Changeling!Pabit AU

I said I was makin a post and I don’t care that nobody seems interested in him cause I love this little puppet boy and wont stop making aus for him.

Under a cut cause l o n g e

--

-Pabit only ever remembers Boris as his caretaker

-Not unusual for a changeling, really but it’s true

-Boris always says he just found Pabit on a walk. People usually take that as a joke, but he’s being serious.

-Ya see, Pabit wandered a bit too far from the fae as an infant, and Boris almost tripped over him on a walk in the woods.

-Boris picked up this strange little faerie baby, they made eye contact, and Pabits body shifted to resemble Boris.

-Well fuck I guess Boris has a kid now. The thought of calling the local orphanage doesn’t even cross his mind, it’s really just, “Ah fuck I found a kid.. Guess I’m a dad then”

-Really the fact that Pabit seemed to latch onto and form to look like Boris didn’t help with that train of thought.

-It didn’t take long at all for it to click in Boris’ head that Pabit wasn’t human. Obviously the whole shapeshifting thing, but this child was practically FERAL.

-In a non-babyproofed home, Pabit wreaked havoc. Being a master at hiding, scuttering Boris’ walls, and getting into everything, especially things that a baby shouldn’t be touching.

-It took ages for Boris to get the house at least somewhat Pabit-proofed.

-Pabit still manages to get into shit constantly, it’s like a talent.

-Just like Child!Au, Pabit is not Pabit’s actual name, it’s a name he gained later on because of how much he mimics Boris. (Whats his actual name? No idea)

-Pabit’s gender was literally assigned. He doesn’t have typical human anatomy, being completely androgynous, and thus Boris just... -stamps Pabit with “boy” sticker-

-By the time of the habitat, Pabit id’s as masc non-binary

-Boris considers the day he found Pabit as his birthday, not actually knowing how old he was when found, he counts up from that date, thus where Pabit being 15 comes from.

-Pabit is so tall both because he is fae, and because his body mimics Boris for its aging. So he’s just.. so fucking tall.

-Pabit has a shadow form, but didn’t seem to gain one until he first saw Boris do it when he was a toddler.

-For awhile he’d just randomly shift to it, until his subconscious realized it was primarity an anger-based “transformation”

-While Boris’ shadow form is just intense anger, Pabit’s becomes almost like a rage. As his body grows to adapt most of his non-human ability (strength and some subtle basic magic) into said form.

-Depending on the source of anger, Pabit can be incredibly destructive or eerily calm but a ticking bomb.

-Even Boris gets a bit scared when Pabit shifts to the form... One too many times he’s had his house demolished from this child- Or even being injured by the rage (Nothing serious, but more damage than an 8 y/o should be able to give a grown man)

-From a very young age Pabit always showed signs of adhd/autism. Though he doesn’t technically have these conditions because he’s fae, he’s found comfort in knowing he’s not just really weird, and if people ask about it, he and Boris will just say he has ADHD and/or is autistic*

*[Lil step back: This whole au exists because I heavily project my adhd onto Pabit. And my girlfriend, who is autistic, loves the changeling trope (We even call her one fairly often). So please don’t get hateful about this]

-Boris was always pretty open about Pabit not being human, never tried to hide it from him. He grew up as the outcast and couldn’t figure out why, he’s not gonna let his son feel that same lost and broken feeling.

-Pabit tends to speak in broken sentences. He can speak in full, but feels more comfortable doing more of a Hulk speech pattern. Thus he often talks in third person, and leaves out words he deems unneeded to understand the sentence.

-He’ll fall into proper speech when ranting or infodumping, though. Speaking much more like Boris, with proper and large words.

-He stutters over bigger words a lot, and sometimes gets frustrated and just uses “dumbed down” language in its place (this is how he’ll describe it)

-Pabit has a major hyperfixation of puppetry and puppet making, and a smaller one on musical theatre/acting.

-There is Pabit, and then an actual puppet Habit. It was a gift for fathers day, and though it’s not as pretty as the irl puppet, it’s still pretty damn good for a 15 y/o with claws. Boris keeps it on a shelf in his office, it’s Pabits favorite out of all the puppets he’s made.

-Pabit will nab it and, using Boris’ desk as a stage, will just talk to Boris as “Boris”.

-Boris finds this absolutely adorable, and goes along with it. He’s made several business deals with this puppet. Usually for teeth.

-Which yes, Pabit eats. (No Pabit au is complete if he doesn’t eat teeth, fight me.)

-Pabit stims. A lot. His most common stims are kicking, bouncing, or wiggling his legs, chewing (Yes teeth eating is a stim for him, but he mostly goes for more rubbery textures), hand flapping, and full body wiggling/bouncing. He’ll also play with his hair, but it’s not as common.

-Pabit will occasionally repeat things, usually funny things he hears while giggling.

-Pabit’s hair is so stupidly thicc and curly that no stylist in town will deal with it.

-Boris has learned to cut hair, which comes in handy more often than you’d expect in a house of two very long-haired people.

-aka: Pabits hair grows so fucking fast, its ridiculous.

-His hair sticks together so much that it almost acts like one solid pillow-like mass. No hairtie can contain it. (If it’s tied back, it’s usually an actual string litterally tied around his hair)

-Pabits ears can emote, they don’t move much, but it’s noticeable. They wiggle when he gets really heccin happy.

-Pabit’s pupils alwas seem to be slitted, but at general shock (among other various things) his iris’ will slit aswell, leaving Pabit with a line in some massive sclara’s.

-Pabit has gotten very good at sewing thanks to his love of puppet making. This becomes very useful since he usually has to tailor his clothes slightly.

-In the habitat proper, Pabit is surprisingly popular with all the kids. Most notably Tim Tam and Trevor.

-He knew Trevor (And of Nat) before the habitat. He and Trevor are classmates while Nat is in the class behind them.

-Trevor didn’t really acknowledge Pabit’s existence until he bit a bully and seemed to break skin effortlessly??? hmmmmmmmm.

-Thus Trevor started theorizing, nothing in depth, but the kid was on his radar.

-Trevor was really surprised to find Pabit in the habitat, and even more surprised when Pabit told him Boris is his dad.

-The most these two ever talked before the habitat was a single “peer review” assignment, but in the habitat they start talking a lot more cause they’re the oldest kids, know eachother a bit, and both need to infodump like crazy.

-It takes a while for Trevor to get used to Pabits broken speech, but he eventually finds himself mimicing it occasionally. and Pabit will mimic him as well (adhd solidarity, boys)

-Pabit and Tim Tam can communicate non-verbally with no trouble at all. Thus this is used to wreak so much havoc on habititians since they’re both feral little goblins.

-It doesn’t help that Pabit has special access to “employees only” areas since he’s Boris’ son.

-Trevor and Pabit have gone on massive theory rants about random musicals while Nat’s in the room and she just watches these two in confused awe because of all the little details they’ll pull out to support these wild theories.

-Nat seriously has no idea how these two can just. keep. going. It’s been three hours at least let her have a snack!

-Pabit has allowed Trevor to ask so many weird questions about him because Pabit is also very curious about what exactly he is.

-Boris isn’t going to question why Trevor was poking at Pabit’s ribcage with a pen and just let boys be boys.

-Nat supplies Trevor with books on mythical beings she steals from Trencils room.

-Even with the three of them mostly working together, they cant figure out exactly what Pabit is.

-Until they’re all going over it in the boiler room one day. Where Wallus can hear them.

-YES ONCE AGAIN WALLUS IS NOT HUMAN! AGAIN, FIGHT ME.

-Did three children just lure out the frightened janitor cause they’re describing changelings and Wallus, a fae, knows about these kinda things? Yes. Yes they did.

-Wallus really never got a good look at Pabit before he took refuge in the wall, Pabit never got too involved in his work, or his talks with Boris. So Wallus isn’t too surprised that he missed it.

-It takes a bit of courage building from Wallus and Pabit litterally dragging him to Boris’ office before Wallus talks to Boris about how he aquired Pabit.

-Lots of details short: Wallus actually remembers when Pabit went missing which is pretty neat.

-Boris was almost worried he’d lose Pabit to his birth parents... Until Wallus says they didn’t really worry too much cause he was supposed to be put into someones life anyway. Was only mildly concerning since the fae couldn’t keep an eye on him.

-Pabit barely processes any of this information. Same with nearly all fae information Wallus tells him.

-Its not that he doesn’t like it or anything, he just doesn’t really care about the details. He got a name for what he is and why he acts like he does, and now he’s done. Mission complete.

[I wanna type more but my adhd is being MEAN so I’ll stop here for now. Feel free to send me asks about this au tho cause I love it]

EDIT:

-One last thing: Pabit loves the night. He adores the moon. He loves sitting on the roof past bedtime just to stare at the sky