#do NOT look too long at hands / feet i fucking eyeballed it. i did not use proper references. i freestyled

[ruvviks]

mamma mia (kaida uses xe/any)

[cdelphiki]

Searching felt like it was taking forever. 

Jason sat next to Dick as he and Bruce poured over surveillance footage, trying to create a trail from Jason’s apartment to wherever they had taken Damian. 

It was hell. Jason kept checking his phone for a text from… he wasn’t even sure. Clark, maybe. Or Athanasia. 

Although he wasn’t even sure if she had the other cell phone with her… 

Lois, maybe. He shot off a text to her asking, “any news on Mara?” then looked back over at Dick, his leg bouncing. 

“What if we don’t find him,” Jason asked, “What are we gonna do?” 

“We’ll find him,” Dick said soothingly, “That’s not even an option, Jase.” 

“But what if,” Jason pressed. What was going to happen to Damian?

The League was fucking hell. And, and. Damian would lose all trust in him… If. If he had any trust to begin with.

[[The entire rest of the chapter is below the cut, due to the AO3 maintenance starting tonight so folks can read it during the blackout.]]

Damian trusted him, right? He stayed in the apartment and did what Jason told him to do. And. He gave his stupid cat to Jason when Jason made him, so the girls could sleep without the cat jumping on them, even though he kept thinking Jason would hurt the cat, or whatever. 

“Jason,” Dick said, “We will find him. If we don’t find him today, we’ll keep looking tomorrow, and the next day, and every day until we do. So don’t even consider won’t.” 

“Ugh,” Jason sighed. He leaned forward in his seat and steepled his hands. “I promised him he’d never go back.” And now he was there. 

He was fucking there. 

“We can’t control everything that happens,” Bruce said, “The important thing—” 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Jason snapped. He needed need Bruce’s stupid advice or whatever he thought he was doing.

What he needed was for them to find Damian.

“We will get him back, Jason,” Bruce said, even though Jason wasn’t talking to him, “Ra’s has never been able to hide from me for long. We’ll find him.” 

Oh yeah, sure. Then how did Bruce explain Ra’s and Talia hiding two children from Bruce, hm?

Jason supposed that right there was proof Bruce didn’t fucking care about his own biological children. 

“Dick,” Jason said pointedly, refusing to look over at Bruce, who was on the other side of Dick, “Want to spar?”

“Spar?” Dick asked skeptically, “What for?” 

Stretching his legs out, Jason scowled and said, “I need to get used to these damned tights. Mr. Ra’s-has-never-hid-anything-from-me can deal with this for a little while. Come on, afraid I’ll beat you?”

“You, my little baby brother, beat me? Now you’re just dreaming,” Dick said with a giant grin. He got to his feet and motioned with his head toward the training mats. 

All Jason did was smirk in return. 

HIs phone buzzed with a text, so he looked down as they walked and read Lois’s reply. 

‘She’s still in surgery, I have not heard anything further. No news is good news at this point.’ 

Nodding, Jason shot back, ‘Thanks. Do you know how Attie is dealing?’ then set his phone down on a table near the training mats. Hopefully Attie was doing fine. Or… at least not crying her eyeballs out and not letting the Kents comfort her. 

However she was dealing, Jason couldn’t really do anything to help that. 

“I’ll go easy on you,” Dick said, still grinning. 

Sparring was, quite frankly, the best damn thing to do. 

Jason… Jason hadn’t been doing any sort of training for a couple months at that point.

And while, yeah, he’d been doing physical labor, and he did some stretching and such, he hadn’t been training since they got to Metropolis. 

Thankfully it hadn’t been too terribly long. What? Like…. Two months? Sixty days? Since they landed in the US? Because they definitely did enough physical exertion before while trekking across the entire damn world. 

Plus he fought with the assassins a few weeks back. So.

It wasn't like he was weak, but his muscles did feel a little achey as he started really moving them. 

Dick of course kept showing off all his acrobatic moves, but Jason wasn’t exactly clunky in his own movements. 

Several minutes into them exchanging blows, but not really landing anything on each other, Dick pulled out his escrima sticks. 

“No fair,” Jason panted, as he stepped back out of Dick’s range, “I don’t have any sticks.” 

“Do you want some?” Dick asked, stopping abruptly and standing up straight. 

Jason fall out of his own protective stance and contemplated it for a moment. 

He would be going up against assassins, most likely. Who had, like, swords. And Jason’s sword got abandoned in Kabul, so he didn’t have that. So. It was probably a good idea? He had his guns, of course. And guns were great, until he was in close range… 

Then he needed a way to deflect swords being swung at his neck. He could fill someone up full of lead, but if they managed to get one single swing on him, it was all over. 

“Yeah, that would be good,” he finally said. 

Dick took him into the weapons vault, as he always called it as a kid. In reality it was just an elaborate little nook in the cave with lots of neat things hung up on the wall. 

“I had such a nice sword in the League,” Jason lamented, as he start picking up different sticks, feeling the weight in his hands. 

Some of them were downright light, and it was a little unnerving. His sword had some heft to it, and Jason liked that. 

“So were you, like, a member of the League of Assassins,” Dick asked slowly. 

Jason rolled his eyes. He set the bo staff he’d been holding and picked up the next one as he said, “Not like you’re thinking. Talia was just getting me training.” 

Sure, he did some missions and stuff…. But yeah. He wasn’t, like, one of the assassins. 

Also it was none of Dick’s business. 

“Ooh this one,” Jason said, before Dick had even figured out how to respond to him. Jason had picked up a collapsible bo staff that could be split in half to be escrima sticks. They weren’t too heavy, but they weren’t light as feathers, either. The only thing they were missing was tasers. Dick’s had tasers. 

“Come show me your skills,” Dick said, and Jason could only grin in response. 

They sparred for a good half hour, and honestly it was the best damn thing. Jason felt so loose when he finally knocked Dick off his feet. 

Dick rolled onto his feet, but he did not stand back up. Instead, he stayed down and caught his breath.

“I learned from the League’s best,” Jason said, as he collapsed his staff and tried to find a good spot to store it on his body. 

“Apparently,” Dick panted. He reached over to where one os his sticks had landed, then looked up when Jason held a hand down to help him to his feet. “I went easy on you, though.” 

“No you didn’t, shut up,” Jason said. He walked back over to where his phone was and checked to see if Lois had replied. 

“Everyone knows you have to let the little kid win,” Dick said. He clapped Jason on the back. 

“Shut up,” Jason repeated. He opened Lois’s latest texts and read through them. 

‘Martha said Attie isn’t speaking, but she’s doing fine. They’re making ice cream right now, and she seems to be enjoying it.’

‘Mara just got out of surgery. Doctor said everything went well, they fixed the bleeding and stitched her up. They’ll hold her at least overnight, possibly for a couple days depending on how she’s doing tomorrow.’ 

“Mara’s out of surgery,” Jason said, as he started shooting back his thanks to Lois. He asked her if they knew when Mara would wake up.

He’d like to be there for that… but Mara understood, if he wasn’t. 

Probably. 

“How is she doing?” Dick asked. 

“They might discharge her in the morning, so good I guess.” 

Bruce walked over into the training area, Jason could tell because he was allowing his boots to squeak against the floor. 

Which was annoying, but at least he wasn’t sneaking up on him. 

Jason wasn’t turning around to look at him, though. 

‘If Mara wants I’ll talk to her on the phone when she wakes up, if I’m not able to get out there,’ Jason texted to Lois. 

“Jason, Dick,” Bruce said, when neither of them gave him immediate attention. 

Asshole.

“I found him.” 

Jason whirled around and demanded, “Where is he?” 

Bruce twitched, but he motioned with his head for them to follow him back out into the main cave. 

And Jason eagerly followed. 

Back at the computer, Jason stood behind Bruce as he sat and started pulling up all the research he had. Up on screen already was a flight tracker, with one flight highlighted that was just east of Greenland, presently. On another screen was a security footage video, paused. Jason couldn’t really tell what was going on with it, but it looked like it was footage from an airport.

“He’s on a plane?” Jason asked. If they got on their plane that moment, maybe Damian would only have to spend a couple hours with Ra’s, at most. 

Or, maybe they could intercept him before he even got to Ra’s.

Because Jason doubted heavily that Ra’s came to the United States to get Damian himself.

“Yes, but not one of the ones we were tracking,” Bruce said, as he pulled up flight logs, “It’s a private plane charted by a shell company. It took tracking through seven layers, but it does lead back to Ra’s.” 

Bruce hit play on the security footage, and Jason found himself leaning in. It wasn’t a long video, only about fifteen seconds, so Bruce had it on loop, and the quality was absolute shit. If it were a video on youtube, everyone would be asking if it was shot using a potato. 

But Bruce thought it had something to do with Damian, so Jason tried to take in each of the men on the screen. One of the men adjusted something as he stepped onto the staircase up to the small plane, and in the third loop, Jason finally saw the brief flash of a face against his shoulder. 

Almost like he was carrying a sleeping child…

“What the fuck did they give him,” Jason asked. Damian did not sleep deeply. Generally he’d stay asleep if Jason was very quiet, but more often than not Damian woke if Jason entered his room. And Jason was Jason. Someone he hoped Damian knew was safe to sleep around.

Random assassins he may or may not have ever met?

Nu uh, no way. He was drugged. 

“I have a few guesses based on Athanasia’s report it was an injected drug that caused almost instant unconsciousness,” Bruce said, “a few of those last several hours with one injection.” 

“Bastards,” Jason huffed, “If that kid was conscious, he’d be biting them all.” 

“Biting?” Dick asked, from where he’d come to stand next to Jason, behind Bruce. 

“Yeah. He bit me the first day I met him,” Jason said. And honestly, Jason was surprised that was the only bite he got from that feral little runt. 

Dick grinned wide and asked, “Why?” 

“I was trying to keep him from attacking fucking Deathstroke when Deathstroke was letting us go. We needed to run, not fight Deathstroke more.” And the fact a smart kid like Damian hadn’t even understood that on his own is a real testament to how fucking stressful that day was.

Or how brainwashed he was into believing you cannot lose a fight ever. 

Bruce looked up at Jason and legit just stared at him for a solid several seconds. 

“What?” Jason demanded. 

But Bruce shook his head, and looked back at the screens. “There are twenty-six people on this plane, including the pilot, who is employed by Ra’s.” 

“So twenty-five assassins and one drugged up baby assassin,” Jason concluded. They could take twenty-five assassins. 

“It seems so,” Bruce said. 

“Funny it took so many of them to kidnap one feral eight-year-old,” Jason said. 

“I asked Clark to do a flyby of the plane, he’ll be doing that in a few minutes,” Bruce said. 

Dick shifted his weight from one foot to another and asked, “Where’s the plane going? Do we know where they’re trying to take him?” 

Nodding, Bruce said, “The itinerary they filed with the FAA says they’re going to a small airport in western China.”

“Tashkurgan?” Jason asked. That was the airport they always used. It was a tiny little airport that was big enough flights leaving there wasn’t suspicious, but small enough no one ever noticed them. 

Plus, Jason was sure Ra’s slipped the officials lots of money. So. 

“Yes,” Bruce said, “So it seems they’re taking him to Nanda Parbat.” 

“That’s where Ra’s had been hiding the kids to begin with,” Jason said, “I would have thought Ra’s would try to hide him somewhere else, he must be pretty darn confident no one will ever escape from there again.” Jason would have found a different place, for sure.

But then again, maybe the League didn’t have another base so well hidden and guarded. 

“They’ll likely take a helicopter directly to Nanda Parbat from the airport,” Bruce said, “That might be a good time to intercept them.” 

The computer lit up with a phone call from Clark, so Bruce quickly hit accept.

“Talk to me,” Bruce said. Which was just. So Bruce. 

What an asshole.

“I can’t get near this plane,” Clark said, “There’s so much Kryptonite on it I can feel it a hundred feet away. I put one of your trackers on the plane, though. I don’t think anyone saw me.” 

“Is Damian on the plane?” Jason asked, “Could you see him?” 

“He is, yes,” Clark said, “He’s asleep, but they have him strapped into a seat between a couple assassins. He appears unharmed, and his heart rate and breathing seems normal.” 

“I see the tracker,” Bruce said, “they would have disabled it if they noticed you.” 

“Good,” Clark said, “I don’t think there’s much more I can do from here. I don’t want to down the plane and risk hurting Damian.” 

“Of course not,” Bruce said, “We can handle it from here.” 

“Thanks, Clark,” Dick said cheerfully.

“Keep me appraised. The Justice League is standing by. Just because I can’t get close doesn’t mean Green Lantern or Flash can’t be helpful.” 

“Will do,” Dick said, before Bruce could probably say no. 

Once Clark cut the line, Bruce turned to Dick and said, “We are not asking Green Lantern to help.” 

“We might,” Jason said. He started tapping his toe and motioned back up to the screen when Bruce looked his way, and said, “So what’s the plan? What are we doing?” He wanted to get Damian and get him now. 

“I think our best course of action is to follow the plane,” Bruce said, “The Batwing is faster than the jet Ra’s chartered, so Damian won’t need to spend long there by himself.” 

“Good. Ra’s is a bastard, I don’t want Damian there for a second longer than necessary.” 

“I don’t want him there, either,” Bruce said, “Children don’t belong in the League.” 

Jason huffed, but chose not to say something.

He wasn’t going to start fighting with Bruce over him leaving his fucking kids there. They needed to get the plane prepared to go. 

“Give me a task,” Jason said, “I want to get Damian back today.” 

“It will probably be tomorrow when we actually get him,” Bruce said, “even at top speeds, it will still take about eleven hours. Damian’s plane won’t even arrive for another nine or ten from now.”

“Ugh,” Jason whined. He knew that, of course. He knew it would take them a while.

Unless Clark could, like, fly their plane closer? Fly them closer? Then they could be there in an instant, but Damian’s plane still wouldn’t be there. So. 

He wouldn’t be seeing Mara that day, then. Or Attie. 

Hopefully they understood. He could still call with them, possibly. Especially if they get stuck on a damn plane for eleven hours. 

How the fuck was he going to sit on the stupid plane with Bruce for eleven hours? 

“Ugh,” he whined louder, “Still give me a task. He can’t stay there a second longer than necessary.”

“Fuel the plane up,” Bruce said, “You remember how to calculate how much fuel?” 

“Yeah,” Jason said, “That’s easy.” And it would be good to be working. 

He couldn’t get annoyed at Bruce if he was occupied. Probably.

“I told you we’d find Damian,” Dick said a few minutes later, after Jason had worked through the math and jotted it down on a sticky note. Bruce had fucked off to wherever he’d gone to prepare. 

Which was great to Jason. 

“We don’t have him back yet, Dick,” Jason said. 

Dick clapped him on the back and said, “You’ll see. By this time tomorrow, we’ll be landing in Gotham with your little ankle biter.” 

“It was my arm he bit,” Jason said, “he was trying to free himself.”

“He is the cutest kid,” Dick said almost fondly. 

“You’ve got a weird definition of cute,” Jason grumbled, “Tell him you think he’s cute. I dare you.”

“I will. I’ll tell him tomorrow morning when we see him.” 

Despite himself, Jason grinned at that thought. 

He was looking forward to seeing Damian throw a knife at Dick. 

At least now they had a timeframe.

[kittenshift-17]

dramione hangover breakfast

Hermione grizzled into the arm she'd been using for a pillow, her head splitting and her mouth dry as the desert.

"Noooo," a gruff male voice complained when she stirred, beginning to wriggle out of the arms she'd laid spooned in all night.

"Shhhh," she sighed. "Oh, my head."

"Granger?"

Hermione sat up slowly, rubbing her hands over her face and trying to remember why she'd drowned herself in whiskey and wine to wake up dead like this.

"Just.... quiet, Malfoy," she muttered without looking at the surprised blond on the bed beside her.

"We went home together?" He rasped. "Again?"

"Seems so," she mumbled. "Urgh, I need a shower."

Shuffling across the bed, she rose from it naked and stumbled to the bathroom of his flat, knowing the way well. After all, this wasn't the first time she'd made this particular mistake.

When she felt vaguely more human, Hermione got out and dried off, pausing to brush her teeth before wrapping her hair in a towel and returning to the bedroom still naked. Malfoy was sprawled on the mattress, looking worse for wear, a few love bites littering his neck and chest that she knew she was responsible for.

"Are you staying for breakfast?" He checked while Hermione helped herself to his wardrobe, not about to put last night's ballgown back on in the harsh light of day.

"Yes, please," Hermione murmured.

Draco nodded, rising from the bed too, also naked, she noted with appreciation even if her head was splitting. He dressed quickly before leading her out through his impressive flat and into the kitchen where an elf was already taking care of feeding them.

The first time she'd slept over, she'd taken umbrage with an elf feeding her, but on this, the eleventh time, she hadn't the energy to make a fuss.

"So," he said quietly when they both had cups of tea in hand and a plate of greasy breakfast food before them.

"Must we discuss it every time, Malfoy?" Hermione sighed. "We drink too much and we fuck. And in the morning after it happens, we swear it can never happen again, but it always does. Just accept it."

He eyeballed her in silence after that as they slowly polished off their breakfast.

"Do you have my cream knitted jumper? He asked when the food was almost all gone.

"Possibly."

She did. She wore it around the house whenever she had a bad day and wanted to be cosy because it was the softest thing she owned.

"Can I have it back?" He smirked, quirking an eyebrow.

"No."

He blinked before a soft snort of laughter escaped him.

"Next time we do this, maybe we'll go to your place, and I'll steal back all the clothing you pinch, then," he teased.

"Next time?" She frowned.

"You've just said to accept it keeps happening even when we swear it won't," Malfoy shrugged. "Perhaps we ought to consider letting it happen without needing to get uproariously drunk at work functions before it does?"

Hermione's brow furrowed.

"You're suggesting we... make this a regular thing?"

"I think it's already a regular thing, Granger. What's this, the tenth time we've done this?"

"Eleventh," she corrected.

"Mmm."

They eyed each other speculatively in silence for a long time after that before Hermione sighed and got to her feet. Rounding the table, she thanked the elves for breakfast and wandered to the living room, collecting her shoes and dress on the way.

"Until next time, then?" Malfoy met her by the fireplace, holding a small pot of Floo powder.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow," Hermione nodded.

She huffed in surprise when, before he let her step into the fireplace, he cupped her cheek and guided her mouth to his, kissing her softly.

"Think about my offer," he murmured against her lips when they broke apart.

Hermione nodded, climbing into the fireplace and dropping her powder, whizzing away, knowing she'd do more than think about it and knowing she was probably going to end up marrying the ridiculous man.

[hydr0phius]

Some crack summaries (and just general notes) of Greater Good like how I did with Chaos Rising

Ar'alani: We have technology to aim our weapons with but I'm going to just eyeball this shot here.

...

Thalias: *enters the bridge, is exhausted*

Samakro: Wow, you look like shit.

Thalias: Thanks so much. I really appreciate that.

...

The side of Thaliamakro in this book has me giggling and kicking my feet. If they don't get together romantically I am still here for the friendship. I love them skdjfhsdjf. SAMAKRO SHE'S NOT A SPY THOUGH, MATE-

...

Laknym & Thalias: *open their mouths to explain something to Che'ri or to ask a question of each other while they're down in secondary command*

Kharill: SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Thalias: We're-

Kharill: SHHHHHH. NO. NO TALKING. SHUSH.

...

The ominous things being hinted at about the Stybla family's past (the most vicious warriors etc). I'm intrigued. Tell me MORE.

...

*Samakro & Thrawn talking about keeping the Magys on the Springhawk & it's low key an argument*

Samakro: And what do you suppose the Syndicure will think of this?

Lakinda, internally: I hope I don't get dragged into this.

Thrawn: Actually, I wasn't going to tell them *looks at Lakinda*

Lakinda, now officially in the argument: Uhhhh

...

Lakinda: STUPID THRAWN TAKING ALL THE DAMN GLORY!!!!! I DISLIKE THIS MF-

...

Thalias: *wakes up*

The Magys in hibernation:

Thalias: Who the fuck put that the- wait, I said Thrawn and Samakro could put it here. Uh. *proceeds to dress for the day throwing side eye looks at the hibernation chamber and wondering if the magys is just suddenly going to wake up and jump scare her (she's not)*

...

Thalias: *opens the door*

Che'ri, instantly looking inside: WHat's ThAt-

Thalias: A coffin!

Che'ri:

Thalias:

Che'ri: That's a bit weird.

Thalias: The Magys is in hibernation to stop her from offing herself.

Che'ri: o h.

...

Ba'kif: *giving the new orders for Thrawn to be shifted out to the Paataatus again, except there's a lot of political shit going on at the same time*

Samakro: *needling for a bit more info in a subtle way*

Thrawn: *no fucking idea what's happening, but not too pleased about going to the Paataatus hive-home world when he's got a Magys in hibernation in Thalias' room and a puzzle to solve back on Sunrise*

...

Jixtus having music and beanbags at his meeting with Haplif. Haplif struggling to get out of the beanbag with dignity. Jixtus telling him he should bird watch more often.

...

Thurfian: *frothing at the mouth with sheer rage after hearing about the scuffle over Sunrise with the unknown dreadnaught + Lakinda's assistance*

Zistalmu: *approaches*

Thurfian, internally: What if I just laid into him? What if I gave him a verbal lashing? A bit of a tickle up? I'd feel better if I tore something to shreds-

(Also Thurfian): Don't do that. Focus on the end game. FOCUS ON THE END GAME.

Zistalmu: You look happy.

Thurfian: Fuck you-

...

Lakjiip: Look at this *hands Lakuviv the metal report from the Agbui jewellery*

Lakuviv:

Lakuviv: THat's fucKING NYIX ALLOY-

Lakjiip: I KNOW

...

Haplif: *does anything*

Lakphro: What are you planning??? I'll find out. I'll know-

...

Lakjiip: Tell no one of these brooches.

Lakphro: Of course.

*later*

Lakphro: *calls his cousin who is married to a scientist who has connections with other scientists that work with metals etc* Hey so there's this jewellery I'm going to send it to you in the mail-

...

Lakbulbup: Send it through express post.

Lakphro: Have you SEEN the rates for that lately????

...

Qilori of fucking Uandualon. Back again and causing havoc we're all going to see later. He's going to be the reason the skywalkers are targeted by the Grysk, isn't he...

...

Shimkif: Marry me.

Haplif: wHAt-

Shimkif: It'll gain Yoponek and Yomie's trust. It'll be fake too

Haplif: Oh ok.

...

Shimkif: Sorry I was gone so long. I was busy poisoning birds.

Haplif: Amazing.

Yomie: I found another migration up north.

Haplif, internally: No the hell you did not-

...

Haplif: I don't like birds. I've had enough of birds.

Shimkif: *poisons Yomie*

Haplif: Nice, we're out of here.

***

RIP Yomie, you had the brains to figure the Agbui out, but your silly fiancé did not and now we're in a bit of a pickle. Haplif giving Yoponek the brooch he took from Yomie's corpse to Yoponek and telling him she left it for him to pin it to her dress on their wedding day when they met again and Yoponek just believing that day will come and meanwhile Yomie's floating in the damn VOID-

I'm sad about them.

...

Ar'alani: You need to identify yourselves.

Battle Dreadnaught: We've been begged by the people of this world to protect them from threats.

Ar'alani: Oh, so you've talked with the Magys, too?

BD: The what?

Ar'alani: The leader of the people of Sunrise.

BD: Never heard of it.

BD: We were begged though. We will get rid of you if you don't leave.

Ar'alani: Mate-

...

Ar'alani: You need to bring that asteroid's missile with you

Lakinda: Ok.

*later & with no asteroid missile (too slow to get it out intact in time to provide aid to the Vigilant)*

Ar'alani: uUUhhhhh we might not do well with this now...

*more battle. Lakinda lays into the damaged side of the Dreadnaught and pretty much takes it out after Ar'alani draws enemy fire to her ship.*

Ar'alani: Yeah, nice.

...

Lakinda: Oh my stars, what if Thrawn's not even that good? What if it was just Ar'alani all along- no. No, he is good. He just learned from the best. *is a little bit obsessed with Ar'alani and Thrawn's history*

...

Ar'alani: Ok, Csilla said you have to go help Thrawn with the pirates, but I know you have beef with him-

Lakinda: I do NOT have beef with Thrawn.

Ar'alani: You get this annoyed look and tone whenever you interact with him even if he's not being annoying.

Ar'alani: Anyway, as Admiral I can just keep you here if you don't want to go.

Lakinda: No, it's fine.

Ar'alani: Sure.

...

HHhhh ok. Haplif is getting so much Chiss info and Lakuviv and Co. are completely unaware they're being played and I'm scared about how this whole thing with the Nyix mines is going to play out.

...

Lakbulbup: Hey so there's this guy called Senior Captain Thrawn and he's good with analysing art-

Lakphro: Yeah fine. Send the brooch to him.

...

Captain Fsir: aaaaa help, we're being attacked by Vagaari scouts.

Thrawn, off mic to the bridge crew: This is a set up.

...

Thrawn: I have a plan but I need to see inside your ship first.

Fsir: What-

(He got invited over and took them down so fast at the "pirate base" because of it lmao).

...

Lakooni: *comm dies after she sends the emergency family summons* LAKUVIV. Your comm is shiet

Lakuviv: That officer you were talking to was me, I'm sorry it had to go this way *pulls a blaster on her* if you'll follow me to my private rooms-

Lakooni, absolutely furious: I'm going to fuck you up so bad for this, do you even know? Do you know what you've unleashed? I'll end your entire career, you backstabbing son of a bi-

Lakuviv: *raises blaster a bit higher*

Lakooni: FIne.

(I can't be the only one whose mind went straight to the gutter and wondered if AO3 had anything with them jxfkjeasdfkjsd)

...

Every time someone says "yeah, we'll swing by," (which is a lot actually now that I think about it) gave me a bit of a giggle. It made conversation feel more real.

...

Lakinda when the summons came through: Ok but does Thrawn NEED me there? no. He just needs my ship *leaves*

...

Apros when Grayshrike eventually meets up with Springhawk: Lakinda got called away on a family emergency order put out to all CEDF Xodlak that weren't in immediate battles or on critical missions.

Thrawn, pissed: WHAt-

Samakro, also pissed and angry at Apros: DID YOU TRY TO STOP HER?

Apros, not able to be pissed with Thrawn because he's higher rank, but able to be pissed with Samakro because they're the same rank and therefore fair game: YES. WHY THE FUCK WOULD I NOT?

Apros: oh btw, Thrawn, she said this had come for you *gives him Lakphro's brooch*

Thrawn: Ooh, pretty.

...

Thrawn to the Magys: Wakey wakey, do you know what this is? *holds up the brooch*

The Magys: The work of my people. It looks new, though.

Thalias: surprise, they're not dead.

The Magys: There is hope!

*when they've put The Magys back into hibernation*

Thrawn: We also have three families being scammed.

Samakro: *grumpy noises*

...

Lakinda, just woken up: What do you want?

Thrawn over comms: You're being scammed. There are no mines. It's a set up.

Lakinda: Damn.

Thrawn: I have a plan though!

Lakinda once he's explained: From the bottom of my heart, what the fuck-

Samakro: That's insane actually.

Thrawn: Well if you two come up with anything better, let me know <3

...

Samakro convincing everyone that Thrawn's plans are strictly military and that he's got no clue with politics and doesn't know how to play them anyway (which is still wild to me tbh. I don't believe it) and then even convincing himself on it too/that Thrawn's their best commander even if his plans are insane sometimes.

...

I'm still processing the 3 families showdown over Sunrise but Thrawn's plan worked a treat even with family politics fucking up Lakinda's end (my girl got thrown in the brig for talking to Thrawn/warning him that at the end of this the embarrassment at finding out they were being scammed would have worse fallout than the actual fight that they didn't think of when they were making the plan).

...

Lakinda: Oh my gods it was Ar'alani copying Thrawn's tactics the whole time-

...

Thyklo: Patriarch Thooraki is dead.

Thurfian: Ah. Condolences.

Thyklo: You're replacing him.

Thurfian: It is an honour.

Thurfian, internally: holy FUCK- Zistalmu is going to lose his damn mind lmfao.

[jinkookspencil]

bts reactions - you experiencing sensory overload - hyung line

disclaimer/explanation:  (maknae line version here!) this isn't meant to be specifically related to any disorder or any other specific neurobehavioral phenomenon - anyone that relates to it is free to do so, basically. i myself struggle with this and often experience sensory overload, so this is based on my experience (one of the ones below is based on someone i know) and i wrote this yesterday after experiencing it in real life. so, yeah, i just wanted to put that out there. every experience or relation to this is valid. (and just for clarification in case anyone needs it: sensory overload is when one or more of your senses experiences over-stimulation from your surroundings - it can be through sounds and noise, visuals and what you see, crowding, touch, smell, etc. anyone who experiences it and is sensitive to it can feel overwhelmed, can "shut down" and be unfocused, become irritable, cover their ears/nose/etc, and more - people have different reactions.)

separated hyung line and maknae line since the word count for each member is quite long. (namjoon: 1.1k / seokjin: 730 / yoongi: 1.4k / hoseok: 670)

🌻 namjoon 🌻

“Just look at me. Ignore everything else.”

Namjoon said the words as an order - yet his voice was gentle, more soothing than ever before. You wanted to obey. It was easy to. Just seconds ago, ‘ignoring everything else’ would’ve been one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do. Your childhood best friend’s wedding couldn’t have been more chaotic, but here, standing merely ten feet away from the chaos with one of the closest people in your life, it suddenly became bearable. You couldn't tell if it was the short distance, the man in front of you, or his firm hands on your shoulders - you’d always wondered if he could be as gentle as he was clumsy. Turns out he could.

“Is it anxiety?”

“Not really,” you say, staring into his eyes. “Well, maybe? It’s hard to tell, Joon. It’s just… a lot. The lights. The fact that the spotlight will be on me when I give my maid of honor speech - oh, and all the eyeballs of the attendees too. And I’d have to block out the sound of the kids playing around in the corner. Oh, and probably the sound of that old man who insists on slurping every last drop of his drink through his straw instead of just getting a refill. I think - I think - if I try hard enough, I could make out the sound of him doing so right now, even though I did last see him on his way to the bathroom. He probably took his drink in there with him. And I might be able to hear one of the kids asking the other to be his girlfriend, oh and-“

“Can you actually hear all that now? Right now?” Namjoon interrupts, resisting a smile.

“Mmm, not when you talk to me. Not when I talk to you. Your face…. Your voice…. You have a calming effect, Kim Namjoon.” The corners of his lips turn upwards into a smile, so you go on hurriedly. “It’s weird. Like…. A boyfriend." Fuck. You were just friends, dammit. . "Or a self-help guru. A therapist - you basically are my therapist, so.”

“Makes sense then, doesn’t it? Tell you what - when you give your speech, just stare directly at me. Like you’re talking to me. Maybe it’ll drown out everything then too - the awwwwws, the giggles, the adoring stares….”

“Stares are never adoring.”

“I disagree,” he says, and suddenly it's hard to look into his eyes, laser-focused on yours.

“I’ll have to ignore my high school friends, judging my body. The old ladies - thinking the same and wondering if I’m single or not, probably matchmaking me with a man here out of boredom. Oh, men - I have to worry about them too. I can handle judgmental scans but ogling-“

“If anyone ogles you and makes you feel uncomfortable I’ll deal with them myself. Old ladies included - I’ll… charm them or get Hoseok to do it. Old ladies adore him and his wife.”

You study Namjoon’s features, serious as ever.

“Look at me. If you want to. If it’s such a bad idea, I’m sure Yeri will understand if you bolt, but….” He pauses, looking somewhere behind you. “It seems like they need you, and I’ll be at table 7 - whether you want to be a runaway bridesmaid and need to hold someone's hand or if you need some calming focal point who is always in your corner.”

You take a deep breath, and Namjoon squeezes your shoulders, pulling you into his chest for a hug that lasts a few seconds too long… just long enough for your heartbeat to slow and match his. “You got this,” he whispers against your neck before pulling away and gesturing behind you, giving you that calm, cool, and collected smile that always puts you at ease before each of you departs to your different tables.

Jaehyun, the best man, told you it was time for you to end the night as he guided you back to your seat besides Yeri. Standing right beside her, a joyous vision in off-white lace and flowers - you knew you could never bolt. A focal point might turn out to be a good hack.

“Alright, everyone. As your emcee, it's my pleasure to introduce the final portion this evening, brought to you by the beautiful maid of honor,” Jaehyun begins, handing you his microphone. 

The applause didn’t help. Neither did Yeri’s hopeful and grateful stare beside you.

But a face at table 7 was already starting to work its magic.

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Yeri’s maid of honor tonight, and well, every night, huh, Yeri? I guess you knew I was the woman for the job when we were in the sixth grade, and I waited on you hand and foot after feeling guilty for intentionally giving you chicken pox so we’d miss school together. I was your happy maid then…. Well, minus the honor.” You couldn’t tell if everyone in the room laughed as hard as Namjoon did, but you hoped that was the case - so you went on. As though you’d been detailing your entire history with Yeri to Namjoon only, for four whole minutes, playing off of his reactions alone. If they were anything to go off of, you were a hit.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that Yeri is not just one of my best friends - she's family. And right now, I’m filled with so much… joy, peace, laughter, good food, too many drinks, but most of all… love.”

For the first time, Namjoon glances another way. A probably unintentional reminder that you’d gotten to the end of your speech and that the words were meant for the woman sitting beside you. “I love you, Yeri,” you say, turning to your friend only for her to jump on you with a hug the moment your eyes meet, muttering ineligible praises through her joyful tears until you finally pry her arms away.

Sneaking your way out of the main table as the party resumes with everyone out of their seats, you find your way to Table 7 in seconds. If anyone had tried to stop you on your way there, you hadn’t noticed.

“I knew you’d kill it,” Namjoon says, wrapping his arms around you the moment you get to him. His embrace was just as warm as it’d been earlier, but when he started to pull away, you got on your tiptoes to place a quick peck on his cheek. Squishy. 

“Thank you, Joon,” you whisper against him, unsure if he’d even hear it through all the noise - but you were sure the kiss said enough. 

He bends down to kiss your cheek in response, and, as though you’d been in an empty room, hear him whisper a soft promise just for you.

“Always... Always.” 

👾 seokjin 👾

It had to have been an hour since Jin had walked into the living room. 

He usually played in his game room, a soundproofed man-cave full of Nintendo figures and his multiple consoles, televisions, and PC setups (including your pink one that he built himself). But minutes after returning from a weird work schedule, he began to set up camp right in front of you.

“I just miss you when I game,” he’d said sweetly, kissing your forehead before booting up the console and plopping onto the couch, cross-legged beside you. It was too sweet to say no to, and the first few minutes took you back to the very beginning of your relationship. 

Just the first few minutes. 

The battle game got too intense too fast, and of course, so did Jin. His screams and cheers could be endearing.

But not when you had work to do.

And not when you could hear them through your noise-canceling headphones.

And especially not when they sounded like his moans half the time.

“YA! SHI - what the?!”

A hand tapping your arm jerks you from your position and your blank stare into your laptop screen and the half-written document before you. Jin crawled up to you on the couch, gently rubbing your shoulder and taking off your headphones for you. You hadn't even realized you'd been holding onto them tightly, trying to block out the noise as much as possible. “Honey, you’re breathing so heavily… you’re shaking, honey. You look… angry? Are you okay?”

His voice is just above a whisper. The television is now muted - merely displaying the words ‘Replay Level?’ In big, bold letters.

“Honey….”

You take a deep breath and finally muster up the courage to look at your fiancé. It’d be even harder to tell him the truth looking into his wide, concerned eyes, almost covered by his fluffy, unkempt hair…. but since you’d be spending the rest of your life with your true love…

“Seokjin…" you start, before taking in another deep breath. A tear almost escapes you as you go on, your voice shaky. "You know I like seeing you game - you can get really adorable sometimes, even when you’re angry and lose but…. I think I needed some quiet today - to get my work done. I just didn’t want to turn you away.”

A deep exhale escapes his lips, which he places at your temple. “My love… I'm so sorry." Another kiss. "Shit. I'm an asshole. I didn't even ask you. I’m glad you told me. I know you can get overstimulated like this sometimes and... I should’ve known. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, honey. And don't say all that stuff about yourself. I like it, just... not today?” you say, ruffling his unruly locks. “But, if I’m working…. Maybe just Animal Crossing? Any other slow game? Sidequests instead of the actual storyline?”

“Of course,” he smiles, kissing you on your forehead. “And for the record, kick me out anytime, okay?”

“Okay,” you say before you pull him in for a kiss on your lips. “Now get out, honey.”

Jin can’t help but break into laughter at your command, sticking his arms up in resignation. “I’m lucky to get commanded so cutely,” he remarks as he saves and ends the game and moves to go to his game room, suddenly stopping at the doorway, to turn back to you, fiddling with his the strings on his hoodie. “Hey…. If it won't be too much then tonight, well, any time really it doesn't have to be today, but.... Maybe you can continue to command me around in the bedroom too… cutely or not-so-cutely…. Maybe I can too….”

“Get OUT, Kim Seokjin,” you say, barely holding back your chuckle. “Let me work. You’ll make me fantasize.”

“No need to fantasize, honey. It’s reality. Or it will be, if you want it to be. Let me know,” he winks, stepping into his cave. 

It was hard to stay focused after that, but back in your silence, you had a productive hour or two before finally resigning to your basic human instincts and whipping open the door to Jin's game room. You were ready to do something somebody other than work today.

🎹 yoongi 🎹

It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. For the slightest moment, you believed in the possibility of random alternate universes briefly colliding with your existing one to produce a random, freak occurrence, as the conspiracy theorists say.

Because for the first time, your boyfriend had asked you for advice on his music. 

A demo. 

You’d listen to Yoongi’s demo. And give advice.

Sure, you’d heard some variations and almost-demos in the past, you had to have, considering you were in a serious relationship with the man. You’d catch him humming a melody and some lyrics that suddenly came to him, anywhere and everywhere, and he’d always try to figure out where it led on his own. He’d scurry to the studio or, as he did on your trips, whip out his phone or whatever gadget he had on him to quickly remember it - but that was the extent of it, your exposure to his behind-the-scenes music-making process. It was the way he worked his genius, so you never complained.

But now you were sitting in his studio with him, rather than popping in for a quick visit, and you couldn’t help but take in his space as he searched through his computers and softwares. The name of his studio - GENIUS LAB - in the form of turned-off neon light hung on the wall behind him, with some cat plushies adorning the couch below it. Endearing, as he’d always been - his sheer confidence came through when selecting a name for his studio because he was, well, a genius, and the adorableness surrounding it (Yoongi included) only added to that. The other wall was decorated in memorabilia related to his career, the members, his solo tour, and basketball, as expected, along with a shelf of many different types of alcohol, the faint smell of which definitely remained in the air, even through the orange blossom fragrance of his desk-side diffuser. In front of both of you and Yoongi were about a hundred different types of computers, gadgets, machines, and physical instruments all within reach. Besides the ones you recognized - the guitars, keyboards, and others - you couldn’t make sense of anything you were looking at.

“Ah, here it is,” he murmured. “Thanks, by the way.”

“I should be thanking you for letting me get a peak at all this. It’s the first time you asked me for advice, and you know I’m not musically inclined, so… I’m also a bit confused, Yoongi.”

“That’s why I wanted to ask you. I listened to this so many times that I can’t really make sense of it anymore. I showed it to the team, and they think it’s good, but I can’t help but feel that it’s…. wrong. Something’s missing. So I need someone who doesn’t know the technicalities of music as well as we do. I don’t want someone detailing all the tiny little note changes like they do - it only confused me more and now I don't even know how to release it. Plus, you know, you’re the love of my life and all that, so you're my go-to. Okay, here it is.”

Yoongi doesn’t give you a chance to respond and tell him that you love anything and everything he does, not just because he was your true love as well, but because you both know he knows it already.

The tune plays, echoing through his studio and it sounded great. Something right between the familiar work he’d done under his Agust D persona but verging on the work he’d done as a part of BTS - it was new, true to himself, and overall, very good. But you understood where Yoongi was coming from. Agust D and BTS were distinctly different… at times.

As the song faded out, you and Yoongi looked at each other for the first time in five minutes. 

“Well?” he murmured. “And I do want the truth, darling. Even if you think it’s shit - that’ll help me.”

Taking a deep breath, you try to find a way to put your thoughts into words. Yoongi knew Agust D and BTS were different - that wasn’t the advice he was looking for. “It is very good, Yoongi darling. Amazing, even.”

“Please tell me there’s a ‘but’ or a ‘however’ in your next sentence,” he winces, unfazed by your brief compliment.

“Don’t want to use those words, but I’ll say this: did you think about trying it out but….softer?”

“Softer?”

“Yeah….” It was the one comment that came to mind. Softening the song, in any way, would definitely help him figure out where the song would go - to SUGA or to Agust D. “Softer…. Like…. People Pt 2? And…. Never Mind? I think something like that could work. I can’t really explain it further because - you know I don’t know music - but…. soft vibes, maybe? Is that bad advice?”

“No, no - first of all, there’s no such thing as bad advice from you - but wait…. softer….” Your boyfriend stares into an abyss, and you can practically see the cogs in his brain working to figure out how to incorporate your advice. “That could work. Holy shit, hold on.” 

Yoongi quickly turns to his screen, playing the backing track on its own before messing around with many different audio files. It was like seeing a kid playing around in a ball pit. He zoomed across his desk, pulling out different instruments, frantically going on YouTube to pull up inspiration, adjusting metrics you’d never make sense of, all while whispering to himself gentle praises and curses. “Yes, Yoongi - this is the file you’re looking for. No, you stupid - no, this isn’t going to work. Let me try that other file.” In all your time together, it was the first time you’d seen Yoongi this way, and it was adorable.

Until he started playing a number of audio files and instruments all at once. 

Piano keys, a number of wooden instruments from a box unearthed from beneath his desk, and the strumming of a guitar, layered on top of the backing track, with Yoongi’s vocals and lyrics and the differing smells still in the air with his body spray added to it now that he was whizzing around his desk… It. was overwhelming. In that brief moment, you completely understood why music never was and never would be your ‘thing,' thankful your job allowed you to work in silence.  

“Yoongi!” you say loudly, with your boyfriend jumping and nearly falling back onto the couch behind him when you shake his shoulder. As you suspected, he forgot you were even there.

“Yoongi, this is too much for me,” you say, covering your ears. He was making the song softer, but it still flooded your senses. He quickly muted everything that was playing, allowing you to continue. “Was my advice okay? No offense, but…. Can I leave? I can’t think anymore. I can’t take any of it in... Should I call someone? One of your producers?”

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, I didn’t realize,” he says, rubbing his eyes before placing his hand on your shoulder. “It was amazing advice, my darling. Just the suggestion I needed - I got lost trying to follow the path, and I just kept going on a roll. Of course, you can leave. Actually, please leave - I think I need to be alone for the rest of this.”

That was the Yoongi you knew. Smiling as he kicked you out so he could work.

“Of course. Sure you don’t need anyone or anything?”

“I have everything I need. Actually, if you have his number or his fiance’s number - can you tell either of them I’d love to see Jin-hyung here in like four hours if he can make it? I think I need his vocals. I never did a song with just him before, and…. this… this one could work.” He stares at the screen, resisting the urge to play around with more switches and buttons.

“Jin, huh? Wow, I guess my advice really did help. Sure, Yoongi,” you say, moving towards the door. 

“Darling?”

“Hmm?” you say, turning around at your boyfriend’s call.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Work. Have fun. I’ll see you later.”

☀️hoseok☀️

“We need tangerines, too, Hoseok-ah!“ you cheer in the empty aisle, reaching for a bag of fresh tangerines, the supermarket’s too-florescent lighting perfectly pointing out which ones seemed most fresh.

“Good thinking, baby,” he says, taking the bag and placing it in the cart, “Yoongi has been coming around more often these days. This is perfect. Let’s look at what else we have to get.”

Grocery shopping with Hoseok wasn’t just a regular, everyday activity - you made a day out of it, going to the largest mart with the widest variety of items imaginable so you’d be well-stocked for a month or maybe even two. Hoseok was always a joy to shop with, and it was that extraordinary joy in the mundane that made you sure you'd spend the rest of your life with him. He insisted on making every trip with you despite his busy schedule - he was adorably specific about his routines and preferences, and today was another extraordinarily ordinary day in your schedule: a day at the mart during (what should be) its quietest day of the week.

But sometime after your start at the fruit aisle, the mart got busier than you’d ever seen it, with people weaving in and out of the aisles surrounding you. Looking at your grocery list, you thanked the heavens that it didn’t seem like you had that much left to do.

Even so, the hoards of people only made it harder to navigate the store and soon you had had enough. You could hear the screeching noise of every cart that whizzed past, you could swear the supermarket had been hosting a secret “bring your crying baby” convention every other aisle, and the bulbs shone hotter than the summer sun outdoors - unfixable even by the cool air in the ice cream aisle.

Your boyfriend had been picking out a tub, a new flavor of the month as per your tradition, with two different types in each hand…. suddenly turning to four…. And two Hoseoks standing before you.

“Hoseokie, I feel,” you sigh, holding your forehead, letting go of the cart’s handle to grab onto the hard plastic border containing the endless tubs of ice creams. 

“Wha- Are you okay?” he panics, but doesn’t await an answer, dropping the tubs in his hands, which he places on your shoulders. Seeing you panic, he takes your hand in his and rushes you out of the vast mart until you’re both safe in his car. 

“Breathe. Breathe. Are you okay, baby?” he says, outstretching his hand in the space between you. It’s only then, when your breathing starts to return to normal that you realize that, in the rush, you’d both gotten into the backseat. 

“I’m okay, Hoseok. It was…. too much all at once. It got too busy too fast.” 

“I know, baby. It’s weird isn’t it? We always go during the quiet hours. Guess today was just a freakishly busy day… Are you okay?” He smiles when you answer with a nod and a hold of his hand, while he brings his other one to sandwich yours. 

“Stay here, baby. I’ll go back in and fetch everything. I’ll be out in 10 minutes, hopefully. I'll get you a cold bottle of water. Need me to get anything else? A heat pack? An ice pack? Will that help?”

“Just the water and an energy drink, maybe?” 

“You got it,” he nods with a smile. “I’ll be back, okay?” Hoseok places a soft kiss on your cheeks before getting out of the car and dashing to the market. 

Three minutes later, your meditation guide gets interrupted by a text.

[from: hoseokie] paying now. got superhuman speed and got everything already. got you 7 bottles of water and 7 energy drinks, all in your favorite flavor, a heat and cold pack just in case AND your favorite chocolate bar. i’ll be there asap xoxoxo :) love you

[russenoire]

art youtube is overwhelming AF.

sifting through all the art advice available on youtube (and other sources!) can be overwhelming AF. an ocean of voices screaming DO THIS! DON'T DO THAT! YOU MUST DO THIS!

i feel like no one ever really talks about that.

also: some ways i cut through some of this noise to find signal, below the cut.

i mean, some of these videos are legitimately helpful! and many are drama about the latest outrageous, racist thing some artist *cough cough* kooleen *ahem* did or said in a 'how to draw X' tutorial just noise. still more of them contain outright bad advice, or advice that can't easily be personalized. (i can tell you right now that 'you must draw everyday!!!' is terrible fucking advice. not everyone can set aside time to do that, and guilt is the world's worst motivator for enjoyment. ever. just stop)

and almost all of it hides behind titles designed to raise your anxiety levels and get you to click. sadly, this is the nature of the platform. emotional engagement drives traffic, and every YT creator is trying to maximize that as best as they can. i don't fault anyone for that; people's livelihoods depend on these streams.

i have advised novice artists to try to narrow things down as much as possible, to 'get granular' about what they want to learn: painting skin. drawing hands, or noses, or faces, or feet, or poses. drawing more expressive lines. workflow, for traditional art or the raster graphics editor of their choice. it doesn't always help: for every subject i've listed, there exists a veritable firehose of videos about it.

so might i suggest a ruthless pruning here?

just go with whatever thumbnail looks interesting and is the least shouty/dogmatic about what it promises to teach you. you will probably miss out on some good advice, but the effect of all the preaching is cumulative. and your sanity is worth it. i promise.

if you don't have the time or patience for hour-long videos, either watch at 1.5-2x speed or skip ahead for the content you want.

look for specific solutions for your specific frustrations. and emphasize the process. how does this artist accomplish what you want to do? how do they lay out lineart, begin the rendering process, and why? can they explain that in a way that makes sense for you (if this is something you need)? if not, don't waste your time watching. i remember breathing the world's biggest sigh of relief on hearing a professional animator confess that shadows don't always have to make sense for a piece of work to look right.

look for ideas on how to break what you see into scaffolding. by this i mean 3D approximations on a 2D surface, on which you can draw guidelines for proportions. ultimately, this is the key to 'drawing from imagination' and even to successfully working with reference photos. videos on how an artist draws eyes from one specific angle will not necessarily help you draw eyes from other angles. not unless they also touch on eyeball shape and position on the head. and how perspective changes the shapes you see. and...

lastly, how do you feel about the video you're watching? if the creator's voice or sense of humor annoys you, or you don't love the stereotypical way they draw female bodies, or they're actually kinda racist/ableist, or whatever–you're allowed to nope out and look for another source of info. there is a lot to be said for the skill of picking diamonds out of manure... but you can find diamonds of similar quality that aren't coated in shit, too.

[dailymobpsychodrabbles]

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: trans! Mob, post canon

Reigen was in deep, deep shit. 

Looking back, maybe he shouldn’t have taken this job without actually scoping out the place first. But it had sounded like easy money! The owner of this office building felt a rush of cold air whenever he entered the basement? Bah, it sounded like he had a problem with his air conditioning. Reigen would just sprinkle some salt and figure out on the down low who he used for his maintenance and give them a ring, and he’d get a handsome payment. 

Um… but.

“Do you want me to possess you?” Dimple offers, staring up at the huge evil spirit looming over them. Even he looks nervous. 

“Last time I let you do that, you pulled a muscle,” Reigen grits through his teeth. Maybe if he doesn’t move, it won’t notice him. He’s been stuck in the same position for a minute and a half now: hands held up in front of his face in defense, knees bent in preparation to run. Man, his arms are starting to ache. 

So far it’s worked. Or maybe the spirit is just toying with its prey. It’s too big to even fit in the room, resorting to hunching over and putting its face only a mere few feet from where Reigen is frozen in terror. It crudely resembles a dog- gaping maw full of jagged teeth and dripping drool in large globs that fall around Reigen, a tangled mass of fur covering half of its face. Why did it have to be a dog? Uu-chan would have never done something like this. (Or, well, maybe she would. Are all spirit dogs evil?)

Dimple sighs. “Don’t expect me to be nice to you when you die. This is all your fault after all.”

“I’m not going to-”

The evil spirit growls, and the entire room shudders and quakes around them. Lights flicker, rolling chairs scatter, and Reigen stumbles to one side.

“-die,” Reigen finishes, voice high-pitched and squeaky. Blond hair sticks up in unruly, windblown spikes on his head, and his outfit is all wrinkled. Gah! He just went to the dry cleaner! He’s going to smell like death for the rest of the day, too! 

The dog creature moves its head to one side so one large, red eyeball is staring straight through Reigen. “Any last words, puny human?” it asks, voice low and gravelly. Oh, it could talk? Reigen could work with that.

“Um…” He offers a nervous smile. “Please don’t eat me?” 

It rumbles with laughter. “Why shouldn’t I? Are you going to do something to stop me?”

Reigen and Dimple exchange a look. “I’m not helping your sorry ass,” Dimple says helpfully before floating down through the floor to safety. Fat load of help he is. 

He’s about to resort to begging, but there’s soft, muffled footfalls from behind them. Just in time! “I’m not,” Reigen admits. He straightens his stance, fixing his blazer so it lays flat on his chest and brushing his hair back down. Afterwards, he gestures to their new guest. “But she is!” 

...Truthfully, he’d sent the text as a last resort. 

Ever since the incident with Mob and Tsubomi, Reigen has kept a respectful distance. His student wanted to focus on herself, not work. And honestly? Reigen couldn’t blame her. He’d been around her age when he’d started to unravel the knot that was being a 15 year old who had no fucking idea who they were. He’s proud of her. She’s grown her hair out, switched from pants to skirts. Tome’s mentioned Teru helping her out with makeup. All steps in the right direction, judging from what Tome has told him. As long as Mob is staying true to herself, then good on her.

Yeah, Reigen is happy to know Mob is figuring herself out, but could she walk a bit faster? He’s pretty sure he has about six seconds before he becomes evil spirit food. 

Mob takes her place by Reigen’s side. “I asked you not to contact me on such short notice,” she says, not looking up at Reigen. Her mop of dark hair conceals her expression, but Reigen is sure it’s not going to be impressed. “Or I’ll have to charge you a last minute fee.” 

“We can discuss payment later.” Reigen scrambles behind his former student and puts a hand on her back. “There’s-There’s more important things to worry about!”

The spirit tips its head to the other side, hair falling and revealing that it doesn't have two eyes, but rather a spiral of eyeballs on the other side of its face. “You brought a little girl to fight your battles?” 

Mob looks up at it. “Please refrain from eating Reigen-san.” She lets her backpack slip from her shoulder and onto the ground. Mob holds up one open hand, letting her aura start to build around her. Pinks and blues and purples surround her small figure and light up the otherwise dark room. Reigen takes a step back and shields his eyes with one hand. 

It bares its teeth at Mob and lets out another snarl. “Such power in such a young thing. But do you have the guts to-”

She squeezes her fingers into a fist, and the spirit is condensed into a tiny ball before it evaporates into nothing. 

Reigen lets out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding in and puts his hands on his knees. Man, that was a close one! 

Mob lets her hand fall back to her side before turning to him. “Why are you here without an esper?” she asks. Straight to the point as always. Won’t even let her old mentor recover from his fight or flight kicking into full gear.

“Kat- Err, Serizawa-kun had to study for an exam.” When he’s sure his heart isn’t going to burst out of his chest, Reigen stands back up. “I tried Hanazawa-kun as a last resort, but he was busy. And your little brother just hung up the phone on the first ring.”

She only hums in acknowledgement. “I see.” 

By now, Reigen has gotten exceptionally good at reading Mob. Spending so long with her as his shadow has let him hone in on a thing or two that most others probably wouldn’t pick up: little mannerisms like fidgeting with her hands and fixing her clothes, her gaze flitting to a certain spot, the way she holds her head. 

Right now? She’s conflicted. 

“Is everything alright?” Reigen asks, turning to the young girl. “You didn’t strain yourself, did you?” He gives her a once over, and she looks relatively the same. Maybe her school uniform is a bit ruffled, but otherwise he doesn’t notice anything.

Mob shakes her head a little bit. “That evil spirit…” She looks up at Reigen, dark eyes wide. “It called me a little girl.” 

So it did. Reigen clicks his tongue and looks at the space where it once was. “Hah! Yeah, and look at how it stood up to you! What a stupid…”

When he looks back at Mob, she’s smiling to herself. She’s scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the floor and tucking her bangs behind one ear.

Oh, it called her a little girl.

Reigen can’t help but smile back. “It did, didn’t it?” He puts a hand on Mob’s head and ruffles her hair. She blinks up at him, frowning when her bangs are messed up once again. “I wouldn’t say you’re so little anymore. You’re almost as tall as me.” 

“You’re embarrassing, Reigen-san.” Mob bats away Reigen’s hands and picks up her backpack once more, but Reigen can’t miss the pleased expression on her face. 

He steers her in the direction of the door with a hand on her shoulder. “What do you say we go grab a bite to eat? My treat?” Reigen squeezes her with a little shake. 

“Reigen-san, you still need to pay me. We’ve talked about my freelance fees-”

“Ah, no discount for an old friend?” 

“Hmm… I’ll consider it.” 

She looks so content. Reigen is almost glad she quit. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket- most likely another client.

Almost. 

[juiceastronaut]

Moxie took a breath in as he steadied the sniper rifle in his hand. A chill breeze cooled the back of his neck. He shivered, it surprised him even after all this time. Usually, hot air breathed down his neck, with pointy teeth following behind. This air calmed, bringing a freshness that carried the promise of safety. And he would break that promise shortly.

He exhaled and squeezed the trigger, watching through the scope as his target's head exploded in an array of confettied guts. Panic ensued in the street below, people running and screaming away from the thing that ruined their chance of having a peaceful day. His breath caught in his throat, a part of him still getting a thrill when he hit his target, feeling the satisfaction of a job well done roll pleasantly in his chest. He turned up to look at Blitz, only to find him sleeping with the Grimoire over his face to block out the sun.

Moxie sighed and walked over to him, coughing to try to get his attention. No answer. He tried, louder. No answer. Subtly kicking at his leg didn’t work to wake him, so Moxie took the Grimoire off of his face, folded it shut, and then promptly dropped it onto Blitz’s face.

“Ah, what fucking dick are you shitting me, Mox!” Blitz woke up with a start, flailing around before throwing the book off his head.

“What dick am I shitting you?” Moxie repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

“Shut the hell up, you know I’m no good at comebacks after a nap.” Blitz rubbed his eyes. “Why the hell did you wake me up?”

“I just killed the target, sir.”

“What?” Blitz said, crawling over to his binoculars and slithered to the side of the building, looking down, “Well, would you look at that. Looks like you can actually do something right.”

“You said that after I killed the last four targets.” Moxie walked over to where the Grimoire landed, dusting off the top of it, scoffing at the slight marks the drop had made on it.

“Well, you kill four more and I just might stop saying it,” Blitz walked over and slapped him on the back, making Moxie stumble.

Blitz took the opportunity to snatch the Grimoire out his hand, opening a portal back to their office and immediately stepping through. Moxie followed a moment behind, rubbing at his shoulder. Suddenly, his feet no longer touched the floor, and he was being held and spun around, kisses adorning his black freckles and breathless giggles leaving his mouth.

“Millie!” he said.

“Moxie!” she responded in kind, “How was it, did you kill that guy?”

“I did indeed! Right between the eyeballs!” Moxie mimed the shot he took.

Millie clapped in delight, “Great work, Mox!”

“Hey, no praise kink in the office,” Blitz called over his shoulder, throwing the Grimoire onto the couch next to Loona.

Looking up from her phone long enough to give him an eye roll, she got up and put it back in its safe before throwing herself down onto the couch again.

“Why, because my wife is actually acknowledging I’m competent at my job?” Moxie swung Millie around by her hips to glare at Blitz.

“Hey man, whatever gets your rocks off,” Blitz tugged his hand up and down, eyebrows wiggling, “But just so you know I’m charging for every bit of white I find on the blacklight.”

“I think you’d just be charging yourself then, sir” Moxie smirked.

Blitz barked out a laugh, right when the door to the office burst open, an outpour of shadow spilling over the entrance.

“I was a good person. Before it all went down…” a voice crept along the black tendrils.

“Okay, hello to you too, bitch.” Blitz spun around in his office chair, kicking his feet up on the desk, “You know usually the villain speech comes at the height of the episode's third act. Kills the impact if you don’t build it properly.”

A purple demon slowly sauntered into the center of the room. Millie stepped out in front of Moxie, not because she didn’t think he could handle himself, but still wanted to be the one to protect him. Loona looked up from her phone, holding it in her hand, waiting for the appropriate moment to tuck her chin back down to look at it.

“I was good my entire life…”

Blitz leaned forward to rustle around in the desk before producing a clipboard with paper, and a pen, “You know, we have handy-dandy forms for this. Name, date of death, social security. There’s a super-fucking-cool box where you can describe the person you want offed, and the greatest part is that I don’t have to continue having, whatever the fuck this is, anymore. Trust the I.M.P process!”

The woman paused, regarding the clipboard. Blitz shimmied it enticingly. Instead, she reached into the collar of her shirt and produced a picture, handing it to him.

“Alright, but I’m calling you Grimace Milkers until you tell me your name.” Blitz took the picture. “So you want us to kill a family, huh? Good, the kids can’t run with how small their stubby legs are.” Blitz walked his two front fingers back and forth on the desk, flipping the picture forward at the same time in his other hand.

“A family?” The word fell like a ball from Moxie’s tongue.

Before he realized it, his hand tightened around his gun, where he should’ve known better than to have his finger around the trigger, but he forgot to move it after showcasing his kill to Millie. A shot rang out across the office, and everyone dived out of the way to avoid the bullet that ricocheted off every corner of the room. Suddenly, it found its home in the tank of eels Blitz just had to buy for some reason. Predictably, the tank shattered into a million pieces, scattering the eels on the floor. Less predictably, the eels started humming with electricity and the entire room burst into flames, the thick smoke immediately burning at the back of Moxie’s lungs. 

“Goddamnit Moxie, I just bought those eels!” Blitz shouted while everyone ran around frantically to put the fire out.

“Moxie quit shaking, you’re gonna shoot our only hellhound.” Millie leaned on Moxie’s back.

He took a breath to steady his breathing, recentering his gun at the picture of the family that Loona was holding with one hand, scrolling on her phone with the other.

“Wow, I feel soooo loved here,” Loona didn’t take her eyes off her phone, teeth curling into a slight snarl.

“But…it’s a family,” Moxie protested, “I just don’t understand why we have to kill a human family.”

Millie shrugged, “Well, if that’s what the client wants.”

“I mean, if it was a shitty Dad, sure…or a mob family. That’s understandable.” Moxie did an Italian gesture, going into a slight accent. He looked off into the distance, lost in thought for a moment.

“Hey!” Loona sat up quickly, pointing at the picture, “You gonna let this bourg-ASS-sie family continue their reign of terror on the neighborhood they’re trying to set up an HOA in? Little Timmy here burns ants while his sister makes fun of people's weight. Their mom brings oatmeal cookies to the PTO meetings, and the Dad watches professional rugby. You’re really going to stand by that?”

“Did that family really do all that?” Moxie raised an eyebrow.

“Well, no, but are you going to wait around until they do?”

“The hellhound has a point.” Millie nooks a thumb at her. “Guilty and innocent aren’t our business, Mox, killing who we’re paid to is. Take out the target.”

Loona rolled her eyes, then went back to scrolling on her phone.

“I’m just saying, with our exclusive access to the sinner's realm, we can afford to be a bit more selective, now. That’s all–”

Blitz kicked down the door to his office, bringing out a case that was about the size of himself, notching the phone that was still connected to the landline back on his desk.

“Don’t worry Grimace-Milkers, we’ll get that skank in less than twenty-four hours or your first kill is free! That’s the Immediate Murder Professional promise!” The line reached its limit, and it whipped back to the desk, not before whacking Blitz in the eye first.

“When did we start implementing that rule?” Moxie started gathering his crossbow and packing it away, trading it out for his sniper rifle.

Blitz straightened up and waltzed over to him, squeezing his cheeks in both of his hands, “When you set FIRE to my OFFICE you fucking piece of SHIT.” He dropped Moxie to turn to Loona, voice immediately changing, “Loona, sweetie, do you have that book by any chance?”

“You mean, the only way you can do your job? Oh, wait a minute–” Loona starts looking around like she didn’t have it, with Blitz getting an increasingly panicked look on his face, “Oh that’s right, it’s right there next to you.” She pointed to the front desk, and sure enough, the book sat right within reach of Blitz, “Got it out when you told me you were getting ready for a mission.”

Blitz breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank you, sweetie.” He picked up the book and tucked it under his arm. “Alright, let’s go lick some ass!” Blitz dug around for a piece of chalk, then opened a portal to the human realm on the office door.

“You mean, kick some ass?” Millie provided.

“Eh, if we can.” Blitz walked through.

Millie bounded behind Blitz, and Moxie realized he was not getting out of this.

“Aw, fuck,” he sighed, following behind his wife.

They came out right by the address that the client had provided. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the property, and something in Moxie’s chest released when seeing the serene countryside. The wood cabin made the whole thing almost picture-esque, and with each step, the weapon that he carried felt heavier and heavier.

He jumped when Millie put a hand on his shoulder.

“You want to step in for this one?” She held his face for a moment.

“I–I think I’m alright. You’re right, anyway. Nobody’s without sin.” He got out his rifle and clicked it into place. Normally an extension of himself, now it sat heavy in his hands. He resisted the urge to vomit.

Blitz stopped his walking, forcing Moxie to run into him, “Well, Mox, if you’re not feeling up to kill number six, I guess I can take it out of your hands.” He motioned for the gun.

Moxie might have taken him up on that if Blitz’s tone hadn’t been dripping with sarcasm. As it was he felt defiance curling around his lips as he scoffed away from him.

“Look, killing a family shouldn’t be too hard. I’ve done worse.”

“Oh, Moxie, you’re not killing a family. You’re killing a mother!” Blitz winked and gave Moxie a thumbs up, “You’re ruining a family.”

“Wait, what?” Moxie turned.

“Oh, yeah, something something, cheating bitch fucked her husband, yadda yadda, she attacked her with a bear trap, yadda yadda, fought until daylight, something something, coma for two years. Woke up, national hero, millionaire, MLM scam, apology, charity donation, something or other. Family.” Blitz twirled his hand around while he summarized the client’s case, “So, just the mother, essentially.”

That should have made it easier. Moxie crawled up to the window and peered through, aiming his rifle at the Mom’s head, right within shot, they seemed to be having dinner. An objective “sin” this woman has committed, she deserved hell, or at least he knew for a fact she’d end up there.

He aimed at her head, blonde locks flowing down past the bandage tied around her forehead. The overly saccharine look in her eye should have told him something was wrong, they seemed too perfect to be real. He cocked the gun, squeezing his finger around the trigger. He saw her turn to walk away, and he caught the hint of a white heel peeking out from underneath her blue jeans.

Too late to turn back, he threw his shot, jerking his firearm up. The bullet landed in one of the pictures in the back. The four heads of the nuclear family swiveled towards Moxie, and he felt when the masks on each dropped. They each produced a gun, even the children, and they had wide grinning teeth as they crawled towards the window.

Yanked down by his coattails, Moxie landed face-first into the dirt, and after spitting out two-inch cut grass from his mouth, he faced a very angry Blitz.

“Moxie, what the hell was that? I know you don’t fuck up that bad.”

A shot rang out from the window, and a cascade of broken glass rained down on them, catching the final rays of the sun, glistening.

“I-I don’t know, I–” Moxie started hyperventilating.

“Let’s get some meat for our stew tonight, kids. Let's teach them what we do when someone trespasses.” A voice, presumably the father’s, called out from above them.

Blitz lurched forward and covered Moxie’s mouth, “Shit.”

He started dragging the both of them away. On a hill close by, Millie waved at them, holding the book in one hand, chalk in the other. An open portal stood next to her. Blitz, half dragging Moxie, made a beeline for her.

Bright headlights caught the corner of Blitz’s eyes, and he barrel-rolled with Moxie before they got run over by a four-wheeler. The two kids giggled as they revved the engine, popping a wheelie before turning around again.

“Shit.” Blitz veered into the closest woods, looking behind to see Millie following behind them, “Shit Moxie, you have no idea how much you fucked us! And not even in a fun way!”

Moxie turned around in time to catch Millie diving into a nearby lake, the father brandishing his gun, looking around. He worried for her obviously, but he knew she would be fine. His legs felt less wobbly now, and he started matching pace with Blitz.

Millie crept up from underneath the dock, knife in mouth, waiting to hear the creak of weight shift above her. Finally, she heard it, a bit to the left; crawling out the opposite way. She brandished the knife along with a toothy grin, watching the man start and stumble his footing. She lunged towards him and brought the knife into his chest, and then again, and again, over and over as he fell into the water. She leaped before she followed him down, watching the water slowly ink red, his body sinking. Though she knew in a while he’d rise to the surface again, granted in death effortlessly what those drowning fight their last moments for. She turned, not seeing either Blitz or Moxie.

“Oh, Moxie, I love you…but for fuck’s sake.” Millie rang out her clothes and took off towards the woods.

Several shots whizzed above their heads as they both scuttled through the underbrush. Reloading his rifle proved difficult under an onslaught of bullets. He turned towards Blitz, right as one of the bullets caught his arm, blasting the underbrush with a coat of yellow blood. 

“Fuck!” Blitz cried out before he could stop himself, falling to his knees.

A light, feminine voice whistled through the trees, “Aw, did I get one of you’s? I guess you’d better think twice before trespassing again, wouldn’t you? Or~ I could show you what happened to the last person that trespassed.”

“Blitz!” Moxie ran up, tucking himself under Blitz’s arm, but he pulled away before he could support him.

“Moxie, keep going.”

“But sir, I don’t want to leave you!” Moxie protested.

“Moxie, being a good person is how you got into this fucking mess, just fucking listen before that bitch fucking raws us with no lube!”

Another shot. Moxie shoved Blitz, who protested with a pained whine, tucking themselves under a bush.

“I’ll create a distraction, I need you to get ahead of her, get a clear shot. Okay? And don’t fucking miss this time!” Blitz snarled, sitting up.

“Okay! I won’t.” Moxie crawled out, taking one last look at Blitz and bolting ahead.

Blitz dragged himself up enough to keep running, the woman seemed to have no short supply of bullets and a reload time of a soldier, the shots kept ringing out with no break or end. Blitz tried to fight the feeling of being hunted, he was just the distraction she couldn’t actually hurt him. At least he told himself while he hid behind a tree and covered his mouth to hide his heavy breathing, arm throbbing in time with his heart.

Almost getting it under control, he started ducking back down to the underbrush, when his phone started ringing. Jumping clear out of his skin, he whipped it out, and almost dropped it a few times before he looked at the caller ID.

It was Stolas.

His chest still tightened when he saw who it was, and he thought he had every right to not pick up right at this moment. But he did anyway, because it was Stolas.

“Stolas, now is a really fucking bad time,” he whispered, plugging his ear.

“Well, when isn’t it, Blitzy-” Stolas drawled through the line, sounding as pleased as a plum.

The dichotomy of how casual Stolas sounded and the current, well, hellscape he currently occupied right now made Blitz’s head hurt. Or maybe that was his arm.

“-I’ve been meaning to follow up on our last little conversation, regarding my Grimoire?”

The first part of Stolas’ sentence finally registered, “What did you just call me?”

“The book, Blitzy-”

Not his question.

“-the one I was given to do my job? The one I’m allowing you to use to do yours?”

The back of Blitz’s neck tingled, and he ducked. The tree above him exploded into a thousand splinters, and he heard the woman chuckling. His feet carried him away before his brain did, still hearing that sickly-sweet voice following him.

“I can hear you, darling.”

“Shit,” The plan was already fucked, and this time not by Moxie.

Stolas’ voice still permeated his phone, “Anyhoo, no biggie, merely want to point out the fact I’ve been–” A small, almost sheepish laugh, “-allowing you to use the Grimoire less than legally, but I do need it back to fulfill my duties. So why don’t we work out an exchange~?”

The uptilt to the word “exchange” didn’t register to Blitz, as he ducked down to avoid another shot.

Stolas continued, “Favors for favors? The allocation of my book comes unadulterated, of course, but maybe this way it can come across, less…uncordial per se, and more enticing.”

Another shot.

“You have to stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I’m trying to concentrate on not getting fucked in my a–”

A white heel stepped out from behind a tree, and bouncy blonde hair followed afterward. Blitz skidded to a stop, then bolted in the opposite direction, his pursuer hot on his tail.

A sense of bravery entered Stolas’ voice, “Well then, allow me to make it clear for you…I don’t need it that often, only once every month on the full moon, if you bring it then you can have it the rest of the time. And since we’ll be meeting anyway~” His voice cracked a bit, “Well, a night of passionate fornication would feel inevitable, hmm? Sounds fair, my little imp?” Stolas’ popped the last syllable on ‘imp.’

Blitz peered out from behind a tree, seeing the woman stalking, her eyes practically growing red in the fading sun, “Okay, fine, whatever!” He turned away

Stolas sounded excited now, “Oh Blitzy! I’m so excited, I can’t wait to–”

Cold metal found its way underneath Blitz’s chin, and he looked up to see the woman staring down at him, grin toothy and wide. She dragged the gun up his throat, lifting him off the ground a bit.

“Okay, I really do need to hang up now.” Blitz choked out, clicking off.

Stolas smiled as he hung up his phone in the back next to him. Sinking further down in the bubbles, he wrapped his arms around himself, giggling slightly at how lost for words Blitz sounded.

Back on Earth, Blitz was less lost in his words, and more held captive of them.

“Ohh, so you’re a little devil, huh? Come to drag me and my kin back to hell? Well, not today, Satan!” She grinned, grabbed Blitz by his horns, and dragged him away.

For a mortal woman, she was really hard to shoot. Moxie followed behind her in the trees, but whenever he had a clear shot, Blitz would dart in the opposite direction, and she inevitably chased after him. What was the endgame here? A slight movement came from the tree branch next to him, and he swiveled around the point of his gun at it.

Millie blinked at him with glowing yellow eyes.

“Millie!” Moxie reached out and pulled her in, kissing her briefly, “That guy was no trouble, I take it?”

“None whatsoever!” She fist bumped.

Headlights shone out from underneath them, and the maniacal laughter of children in heavy machinery whipped by them, towards a point further into the woods.

“Where’s Blitz?”

“I think that woman got him. Let’s go.”

The both of them hopped down and ran towards where the four-wheeler had gone.

“Satan, we return your filthy creatures back to the pits of hell! May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!” The woman brandished a flaming torch, as her children finished tying Blitz to the center of the wooden stake.

“Did you have that just locked and ready, or did you have to Google that one first?” Blitz quipped, struggling against the ropes. “You know that implies you’re working for Satan, right? So it wouldn’t make much sense why you’d want to kill us.”

The woman looked at him, then threw her torch onto the kindling below him. He struggled for a moment, as the flames crept higher and higher, wincing as if in pain. Completely engulfed in moments, he gave out a few mock sounds of pain but quickly grew tired of it.

“Aw fuck this.” He slumped back.

The woman, who had been grinning and laughing with her children, stopped. “What in the–”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works lady. Your fire doesn’t exactly hurt me. But I can always fake it if that’ll get your dick hard.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh…well I guess I’ll just shoot you then.” She brought her gun back out.

“That would be more effective!” He exclaimed before he caught what he said, “Oh wait, fuck–”

“Blitz!” Millie shouted, jumping down from the treetop, side-swiping the woman as she pulled the trigger, the shot ringing up into the air. 

Moxie stepped out from behind a nearby tree, pulled out his gun, and in one fluid motion, shot her as she went down. She twitched once before going limp. Her kids went to make their way towards her, but Millie stood up, bringing out her claws and making it seem like she would lunge at them.

“Boo!” she yelled.

They screamed and ran back into the dark.

Millie turned back to Moxie, who was cleaning out his rifle, “Well done baby! You kinda goofed in the middle there, but you got it done eventually!” She ran over and started nuzzling his cheek. Startled for a moment, he returned it a second later.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine!” Blitz yelled, still tied to the burning stake.

“Sorry, sir.” Moxie went over and untied him, tucking himself underneath his arm. “I compromised our objective and put us in harm's way–” He looked at Millie, “It won’t happen again.”

“Apology accepted!” Blitz swiveled and pulled Moxie into a hug, “But you’re not getting your goddamn paycheck for this one.” Blitz pulled away, “Alrighty, job well done! Now let’s get off.”

“Give me a moment. I left something at the house.” Moxie turned and ran off.

Putting away the horse that he got out, Blitz opened his phone again, nodding to Moxie.

Darkness hung through the air like a cloud. Moxie crept over broken glass and shards before going to the phone. Two children, orphaned in less than an hour, and no one to take care of them. Someone needed to know what happened.

Stealing his breath from the air, he clicked a button. Something flittered on in the background, causing him to shriek and drop the device. He clicked another button, now a different sound. He started cursing, pushing the buttons at random, not knowing what he did wrong. It would be an embarrassingly long time before he realized this in fact, was not a phone to summon 911.

When he made his way back to the group, Blitz was standing in front of the portal with Millie.

“Good wank?”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, I don’t care where you cum in the living world, just come to your job on time, okay? See you at the office!” Blitz pinched his cheek before dashing into the portal.

Millie walked up to him, “You doing okay, sweetie?”

“Better now, honey. I just needed time to process….” He looked towards a leaf that was stamped out on the ground next to him.

Millie grabbed his hand in both of hers, “You want to tell me what that was about?” She tilted her head.

The smile he gave her took effort, “Maybe eventually. Let’s just go home right now.”

“Okay…” She nuzzled his head, “You’ve got a good heart Mox, just a fuzzy head.”

Moxie walked towards the portal and took one last look back before he entered. He saw a singular police car, flashing blue and red lights, and a man walking up to the front of the house, giving a curt knock, before finding it unlocked and stepping inside.

Moxie smiled and walked through the portal.

[appetitecomic]

I do wanna continue with this but i’ve genuinely been so demotivated to actually work on it, especially since i still haven’t figured out the entire story. so here’s a random lore drop.

(Catherine: David’s almost lover, beginning part; David: Victim. Living with Alice because he already relies on her for food and such; Alice: insane woman. Lives with David because she basically made him choose between this and homelessness.)

TW: topics of murder, cannibalism, drugging, implied s/a

——

After Catherine is brutally murdered and Alice makes David promise he wouldn’t tell anyone, they move in together. She wanted… a domestic life, i guess. It’s not real, anyway. They still work at the same office, only now, Alice has since been promoted for her hard work and now has even more of a grip onto David and the people he interacts with. She still has yet to physically hit him, so he, and everyone in the office assumes “It’s not that bad.”

She buzzes around his desk, keeping watch on him at all times. Anytime a coworker asks for help regardless of their gender, she tends to pull them away. But instead of the sweet, naive arm pulling, beckoning him to help her with the most mundane tasks (she already knew how to do them, she just always wants his attention)she just ends up helping the person themselves, glaring at David, because how dare he talk to someone without her permission.

It still doesn’t help. There’s always eye candy to drag him away, at least that’s what she thinks. He totally keeps looking at her. She keeps flirting with him. Does he even realize? Or does he and he just won’t tell me. I don’t understand, I’ve given him everything and he’s still unloyal. Why is he so unloyal?

But at the end of the day, they both return to their house without home charm. Alice cooks dinner again. She took special time with the meat, tenderly cutting it open, skinning it, putting just the right amount of ingredients to mask the smell of malice. He also notices she’s somehow always in the way of viewing the meat. Of course, he’d never dare coming up to her in the middle of cooking, especially with a knife in hand. That’d lose him a hand.

The anxiety keeps rising. Maybe he might be drugged again. His feet tap the floor impatiently and he begins chewing his nails. He feels dizzy. He hates being dizzy.

The kitchen smells rotten. His brain figures it’s the garbage. His gut is telling him it’s a sedative.

As usual, she hands him a bowl, and stares him down. That was her favorite habit. It scared the shit out of David and she got to watch him silently chew the bits and pieces of love she put into this dish. The stew looks different. She usually cooked stew. It’s all I really know how to cook anyway, she’d say with a too large grin.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Just enough to watch David swallow the last bit of porky flavored meat in his mouth. Her eyes lit up.

You don’t know how long I had to search for a meat like this. It took forever to chop her up. Good taste right?

I think you’d like the leg better anyway.

At that moment, he somehow knew what she meant. He almost threw up all over the counter they sat at. David had been punished. Only now he did it to himself. That also answers where the smell came from.

He spent hours at the toilet, trying to relieve his body from the sin he had just committed on someone he loved. He ate her fucking flesh. How do you deal with that?

Usually Alice would drag him out of there at some point, making sure the sedative settled in enough to do whatever she wanted. He couldn’t fight back anyway. But there was no sedative this time, and she let him puke out his guts in the bathroom. He had already suffered enough.

At least he didn’t get the eyeball piece.

[harutostablet]

White Day Television Appearance

Haruto sat in the white Cinderella carriage. He was everything a Rococo princes should be. He was dressed in a gold 3/4 length fitted jacket trimmed in platinum lace, matching gold knickers, ivory socks and gold heeled shoes and ivory colored buckles. Instead of a powered wig, wore a rust colored one cut in page boy style.

The make up artist dusted his skin a pale porcelain, pinking his cheeks and lined his eyes in eyeliner, and mascara. Or course, he wore his shocking blue contacts. The image of a perfect doll.

Felt like one too.

Baily was visiting her old high school. Of course it as at an all-girls private high school. Of course he was doing this during lunch. Of course the media was there for Bailey's appearance.

"Do girls actually like this stuff?" he asked off-handedly. Ayame-kun giggled.

"You mean, getting asked out on a date by a prince in a horse drawn carriage?" she giggled. Haruto eyeballed his assistance. She still refused to call him by his first name but she had relaxed around him. When he didn't say anything she giggled more.

"Of course!" she giggled. "It's every high school girl's fantasy. Your sales are going to go through the roof. And your merchandise will also pick up. " she nodded seeing job security.

The director of this surprise public event gave the signal that it was time to go. Haruto sighed and rose to his feet. Above him was a leather strap for him to hold onto. Ayame-kun gave him a finally wave, mouthing 'good luck'. A breath later he was on his way. If he kept his eyes closed he could ignore he curious looks as this shiny pumpkin with a human inside made it down the street.

The carriage wheeled through the school gates and into the land of screaming teenage girls. He was thankful for his practiced, perfect smile as the young women became a blur of uniformed teens. How many girls go to this fucking school? His brain screamed. The carriage jerked to a halt. It was enough too pull him out the current downward spiral he was falling into.

Haruto would thank divine intervention that Bailey was standing outside the carriage door. She was the perfect compliment to his princely look. The female idol wore a light lilac jacked with a shimmery silver faux fur collar. The long hair he remembered from the party was curled and pinned in such a way that it was neatly coiffed for the line of twinkly diamond studs that formed a make shift tiara.

His girlfriend looked properly surprised. Demure, innocent, sweet.

"Haruto-kun, what are you doing here?" she gasped loud enough for others to hear. An actor dressed in gold livery opened the carriage door. Just as he practiced Haruto released the handle and hopped out of the carriage, every bit a gallant prince. Even dropping down on one knee before his princess.

"Bailey-san, would you be my white day date?" Before she could answer the sea of teenage girls started screaming. the pretty pop-tart waiting for the wave to crest before answering.

"I'd love to," she said sweetly. More screams. The footman returned to his post to open the door or the happy couple. Haruto offered his hand to help Bailey inside. He held onto the manicured hand, so weird to hold a hand so much smaller than his . Bailey kept hold of his hand as Haruto entered. A few seconds later the happy couple were carted away from the screams and far from the television cameras. They stayed the perfect picture of a loving couple until they made it back to the setup area for this little event. Haruto breathed a sigh relief when he saw Ayame-kun.

"How did I do?" he asked Bailey finally letting go of her hand. Bailey looked down at their hands for a moment before looking up at Haruto.

"They really ate it up," she said. "There were a lot of cameras there too."

"Oh cool," he nodded. The carriage finally stopped. Ayame-kun was there with his now ice cold hot chocolate. He still took it happily knowing that it would be sweet even cold.

"Would you like to get something to eat?" Bailey asked. Haruto turned to see Bailey. Her own assistant at her carriage door. Haruto shook his head.

"I can't, I have to head back to campus."

"Oh, okay," Bailey said still smiling. "Good work today."

"You too," he said as he stepped out of the carriage. The only think on his mind was the scary ass movie he was about watch. The things you do for friends, he thought.

[lowlyroach]

246) Highway - Beachside

I don’t remember

The order of operations

I think I was walking through traffic

Someone was asking where I was going

Her, again

In these dreams, it’s always her

Isn’t it?

I can feel the steady pulse

A thunderstorm in my head

Reminiscent of her eyes

Where am I walking?

I don’t even know

Highschool?

Is that where she is waiting?

My eyes are unmoving

Focused forward

I cross the crosswalk

Walk down the road

There is an itching in my skull

Scabs being picked at

The smell of iron

Coating my thoughts

There is somewhere else I am meant to be

My legs are so heavy

I can hear rattling as I move

Carrying ball and chain shackles

The weight of a mountain

I push forward

The air is fighting me

Every ounce of feeling denying me

My right to be with her

She is with someone else now

And she never loved me

Yet I forge onward

Semi-trucks pass by

Running over deer too stunned to move

Their lights all face towards me

Cascading the view of

Corpses of beautiful creatures

Bones split

Protrude from skin

Eyeballs, empty husks

Consumed by maggots

Ribs displayed for the sky

And carrion for the feast

I remember

I was meant to walk the beach

Crabs leaping beneath my feet

I curse at them

Yet I have walked so far from there

I stop

I grab the back of my head

A towel is there around my neck

Memories of a lost place

I grip my scalp with both hands

Fingertips splay my mind open

Probing in the holes of my thoughts

Where maggots burrowed

I hear the sound of tearing

As hair is ripped from my scalp

Rage against myself

I flagellate

It is as if I am lifting the sky from my shoulders

A pain excruciating

There is a noise in my ears

The ringing of a thousand jet engines

My brain is battered from the sound

My skull feels like jelly

Oscillating

Yet over the noise

I hear a voice say

(Turn around

Stop wading through the busy highways

Of dead deer

And beautiful hands)

“Are you going to do this again?”

The light turns red

As I tear myself to pieces

And suddenly

Something snaps

A weight is lifted

It is green

And silent

I look behind me

Towards a road paved in corpses

And walk

I do not know how long

Till I reach a beach

Where we first met

It is far past nighttime

And there are tiki torches

And stars in the sky

A full moon

And peonies decorating the path

I see our cat, Chunky, there

And he looks so cute, I take a picture

As I walk where the sand and ocean meet

My feet are battered and blistered

Unfeeling scars and stumps

I see you

And I run to you

And tell you I love you

And I am so excited to show you

This picture of Chunky

With a Hawaiian petal necklace

I open my phone

And the gallery

And it is

Perversion and

Pornography

Betrayal and

Symbology

I cannot find the picture

It was as if it was never taken

Replaced with

Everything I left to be here

And you cry in the background

As I am just trying to find

One single instance of reality

Gaslighting me

The picture is nowhere

It is a sea of deceit

After all this walking

It did not matter

I chose you

I chose this beach and

Blue raspberries

And still you are hurt by

My actions and past

A thousand knives

Gouging the flesh of your back

My fingerprints

On the bruises of your throat

Crushing your windpipe

As you choke out the words of

“You make it hard to say it back,”

And

“You make me sad, a lot,”

I just want to show you

This picture

I know it will fix this

And Chunky looked so cute standing there

And it is fucking gone

And so are you

And I wake up.

[ruvviks]

🤡🧳 🗺️🍳💖 and a bonus of 🎲 for both cassidy and ronan <33

HEHEHEE THAMK YOU SO MUCH RENA >:))

🤡 - what’s something dumb they’re embarrassed about?

cassidy gets very easily embarrassed about pretty much anything. he believes that when he says something a bit out of place or something he shouldn't have said he has ruined Everything for himself and he takes this very very seriously unfortunately LMFAO it's kind of like. "enjoy your meal" "you too" situation but he truly just believes he has to die now SHGFJDHJDGF

🧳 - what countries have they been to?

cassidy has never left night city much further than the badlands :// he would love to visit other countries but. it also terrifies him LMFAO he would need to hype himself up so much. and then he'd get homesick </3

🗺️ - what languages do they speak?

cassidy knows english, spanish, italian and sign language :] he uses sign language pretty regularly when he's overwhelmed or on bad sensory days and also occasionally speaks spanish with luna! italian is something he's just known all his life though he doesn't really know why. it's just a language they spoke at home sometimes. but he can't remember much from his childhood since he got into a coma at some point in his life so he can't remember the fact his father is part italian LMFAO it's fine he'll figure it out

🍳 - how well can they cook?

answered here!

💖 - how and how often do they try to impress their partner(s)? how and how often do their partner(s) impress them?

cassidy really needs validation basically at all times but also isn't one to actively go looking for it because it makes him feel bad :/ he doesn't want to like. inconvenience others or act too needy. especially not with his partner. so the only times he would want to impress them is when they need to do Something and cassidy seems to be the only one who's able to do it, he'll get very !!!!!! about it because he also loves being helpful. making himself useful. AND he gets to show off his skills. that's the only kind of scenarios he's actively doing it

on the other hand, he is essentially in constant awe of his partner, everything about them makes him !!!!!!!!!!! all the time and he finds many new things to love about them every single day. which he also writes down in his notebook by the way. very important to mention

🎲 - [random question] coffee or tea?

coffee! though you can barely call it coffee anymore he puts so much sweet stuff in it LMFAO imagine the sweetest starbucks drink you can think of. That's his order. yeah

🤡 - what’s something dumb they’re embarrassed about?

ronan gets embarrassed about a lot of things but also either forgets about it very quickly or goes "wait i don't care actually" and that fixes him. he DID however eat shit once because he tripped over his own feet because he was too busy staring at john (when john has already joined the resistance. this makes no sense to the people who don't know about my canon but just trust me please) and nick is still bullying him for it many years later LMFAO

🧳 - what countries have they been to?

ronan has never left the united states and given the state of the world he probably never will </3 it's fine though he would probably die in another country. idk how he would do that but he seems like the kind of guy who would fucking. find a way SGHFDGHDFJ

🗺️ - what languages do they speak?

ronan speaks english and spanish!

🍳 - how well can they cook?

he's decent enough? nothing special but also not bad at all, he's very good at like. eyeballing things. just doing something and it works out. he's like "i don't know how long i have to cook this for but i'm gonna go ahead and assume it's [...] minutes" and somehow he's always right

💖 - how and how often do they try to impress their partner(s)? how and how often do their partner(s) impress them?

ronan knows it's not easy to impress john so he probably. wouldn't even try LMFAO he's just a guy <3 living his life <3 though when john actually does end up impressed ronan goes !!!!!!!!!!!! and he secretly wishes it would happen more often but. well. he doesn't put in any effort also because he knows other people around him would be 🤪 [affectionately] about it and he is not going to deal with the facking circus <3 SGHFJDHGDFJ

john impresses ronan regularly but he's not doing it on purpose. the fact that he joined the resistance. actually rolled up his sleeves and got to work. and didn't run away despite having many chances for it. that already made ronan go !!!!! because he had 100% expected john to just Flee. but he stayed. much to think about

🎲 - [random question] how comfortable would they be wearing a skirt or dress?

very much so >:^) ronan has bigger things to worry about so clothing = clothing to him and he Knows he would look good in a dress so why not wear one right. only problem is he still manspreads like the whore he is so. well. i mean. i'm not complaining but. sir. hello

oc asks!

[indouloureux]

hi love, i know this is probably a weird request but im feeling really down right now and was wondering you could do an eddie munson fic where he maybe consoles the reader as she crying/going through a meltdown? i suffer from bipolar depression and im just severely struggling right now. reading these imagines is really one of the only ways im able to calm myself most times. thank you. i hope youre well <3

hi hon! sorry you're feeling down. sending hugs and kisses mwah mwah! hope this helps <3

when you hadn't picked up the phone on the third call, eddie started to wonder if his panicking was rational.

of course it was. he's your boyfriend. but did he really need to worry whether or not you're alive? if someone had took you? if a murderer broke into your bedroom and stabbed you alive with an odd ghost mask? if jason carver took you and sacrificed you to the devil? or if vecna was real and he decided to bring you to the upside down, then snap your arms and legs in half and gouged out your eyeballs-

eddie takes a deep breath, composing himself. he doesn't care anymore and lets himself worry — he's here in front of your house. well, on the side of your house, beneath your open window.

he climbs up the wall with ease, having done this so many times. but halfway through, he remembers you telling him that you'd been alone and he could just ring the doorbell if he's coming over. he berates himself with his stupidity, but he's too lazy to go back down anyway. he's already poured so much work.

by the time eddie reaches your window, he sees the top of your head poking out behind your mattress. he knocks, careful not to startle you. eddie knocks again, and when he decides that you couldn't hear him, he begins pushing it up himself.

it slid up with ease, a quiet woosh from wood against wood. still, you remain on your spot beside the bed. then a heavy thump from his landing, a gentle slam from the window closing, and gentle patters when he toes his shoes off and walks over to you with socked feet.

when he sees you, eddie feels his heart crumble.

you're curled up to a ball in the corner between your bed and the table beside it, knees to your chest, hands over your face, with your shirt and hair all sweaty. sobs racket through you, your body shaking and he begins to wonder how long you've been like this. and then he starts blaming himself, feeling selfish for not being here sooner; thinking that if he did, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

eddie kneels, moving his way nearer to you. "sweetheart," he speaks softly. "hey, hey- honey no,"

eddie's no stranger to this, but this was the third time he's seen this happened. and even if he remembers what to do, he feels lost and unknown of how to act, thinking every move he makes is wrong. and fuck, he hates seeing you like this.

you whimper when you shake your head, flinching away from his touch and eddie tries not to focus how it pained him. "come on, baby," he pleas. "i'm here."

slowly does he lay a hand on you again, on your bare knee, hoping his rough flesh would bring you some comfort like it always did. fortunately, you don't flinch. you stay pliant in your position but continue to shake and hide your face behind your trembling hands.

then, he leisurely reaches for your wrist. once he's wrapped his hand over it, he tugs it down gently. and you let him — you let him remove your hands slowly, removing every brick one by one from the wall you'd built up.

"oh, (y/n)," he says your name with such kindness and fragility. eddie reveals your puffy eyes and runny nose that would scrunch when you sniff, your pouted lips that let out hiccuped cries. you look at him, desperate, need of a savior, and he offers you what he could provide — his attempted eloquence, hugs and love. "what happened?"

he pulls you into his embrace, your chest on his back, arms on top of yours as they rest on your legs that are still curled up to you. eddie gathers your hair into one side, blowing his cold breath on the sweat of your neck and shoulder, his forehead on your temple.

you don't speak yet and he waits patiently, letting you whimper and sob against him. but when you do, your voice comes out hoarse and broken.

"i don't know," you whisper.

and you really don't. sometimes it just happens — the dam overflows, the structure weakens and suddenly everything explodes and there's nothing you can do to stop it. perhaps it'd rained too hard, countless of people yelling like you'd broken something too special; or everything just gets...too much.

"jus' feels like i'm in this dark hole," you say more to yourself than to your boyfriend. "and there's a light but i can't reach it. i always can't reach it and i feel so alone and i feel so bad for feeling like i'm always alone because i don't want to make you think you're not enough—"

"hey, this isn't about me, okay?" he takes your hands when you tug too harshly on your eyes. "this is about you. okay? you won't ever make me feel that i'm not enough. and i want you to know that you—" he presses gentle kisses to your knuckles, at every bump, eyes locked with yours for reassurance. "—are not alone. i know, well, i actually don't know, but i know sometimes you can't help it and i can't blame you for that. but i want you to know that i'm here, okay?"

the twisting pain in your chest slowly unwinds, though his words border the edge of futility still. and eddie can't blame himself for that. you let out another sob, digging your head against his cheek, your hair sticking to his skin but he doesn't care.

"i feel stupid," the broken susurration renders him quiet. "i feel insane."

"you're not stupid," you rest your head on his chest, toying with his guitar pic as he soothes you with rubs on your back. "you are incredibly smart. smarter than anthony einstein,"

"albert einstein,"

"see what i mean?" you find it in yourself to laugh, the back of your throat wet and nose clogged. "and you're not insane. but you are insanely beautiful and loved," eddie kisses your forehead. "by me. i love you, okay?"

"okay, thank you," eddie laces his hands with yours, feeling your heartbeat begin to slow. "me too. i- i love you,"

"i know, hon." he gives you a small smile. "'d you wanna cry some more?"

you ponder, a pensive gloss that coats over your tears. then you nod, slumping against him.

eddie wraps his arms around you tighter, rocking you back and forth when your face crumbles and you begin to cry hard again, makes a promise to himself to never let you go even when your wails will stop.

[aurumacadicus]

Winteriron camping..... Mothman?

My guy I thought Mothman was a tumblr joke this man is an actual cryptid???? 😭😭 I'm so stupid

Anyway flannel moths! Tony is very fluffy and has very blue fur.

.-.

"This is stupid. We're gonna get killed. I hate this," Bucky muttered, stabbing at the fire they'd built with a stick violently. “How did you talk me into this?”

“I threatened to tell Natasha that you were the one who ate the slice of cake she’d been saving,” Steve replied, unconcerned.

Bucky threw his hands up, frustrated, but he suspected being killed by a cryptid would be better than what Natasha would do to him. “When did you start believing in this stuff, anyway?”

“Sam’s into this stuff and I want to impress him,” Steve answered, shrugging.

“I’M HERE TO HELP YOU GET IN SAM’S PANTS?!” Bucky roared.

Steve blinked at him, unimpressed. He returned his attention to book he’d been reading about different cryptids of the east coast. “You’re here to make sure I live long enough to. You know you wouldn’t have let me come alone anyway so I don’t understand why you’re making a fuss.”

“Unbelievable,” Bucky hissed. He got to his feet and turned to stomp off into the woods.

“Where are you going?” Steve called after him.

“I’m going to walk off my rage so I don’t just fucking kill you myself,” Bucky snapped.

“Take a flashlight.”

Bucky turned to walk back and grab one of the flashlights, then stormed back into the woods.

Maybe he should have brought breadcrumbs or something, because as soon as he got away from the fire, all of the trees looked the same. He was pretty sure that he was following a path, but not entirely. Maybe he should bite the bullet and go back. If Sam was there, he could razz him mercilessly for being attracted to a punk like Steve.

His flashlight caught on something shiny and blue as he turned around. Bucky paused, considering if he wanted to open that kettle of fish, then sighed in frustration. It would bother him forever if he didn’t see what it was. He turned the flashlight back on the trees they’d shone on before, not really expecting anything except maybe a shirt or coat that had been left behind by other campers.

Instead the beam found glowing red eyes. Bucky sucked in a deep breath to scream.

“Ow, fuck, that’s bright. Stop it!” the creature snapped, and a hand came up to shield its eyes.

Bucky dropped the beam just enough to show a furred ruff around the creature’s neck, which spread back to fuzzy blue wings. Its eyeballs’ glow faded to a dull pink as the light moved away. “Um, sorry,” he said, for lack of anything else.

“Well, at least you didn’t scream,” the creature sighed. “It hurts my ears.”

Bucky couldn’t help feeling incredibly proud of himself. A little stupid, too, though. He stole a glance at the creature’s ears, like a human’s except pointed, sort of like what he imagined an elf’s might look like. The tips were coated with blue fuzz, too. Somehow that was cute. “Oh no,” Bucky said.

The creature looked at him, eyes big and frightened. “Are you a hunter? Please don’t hurt me, I wasn’t doing anything.”

“I’ve just had a sexual awakening,” Bucky moaned, rubbing his face with his free hand.

“Oh, a monster fucker,” the creature said flatly. “Sometimes you’re worse.”

“Shut the fuck up people come looking for you for sex?!” Bucky asked shrilly. He found himself sinking to the ground, overwhelmed. “I just found this out about me!”

The creature took a few steps toward him, bending at the waist to be able to see his face. “Well, you don’t have to act like being attracted to me is a chore,” he said, scowling.

“You’re being very rude,” Bucky told it. “I’m having an identity crisis right now. What’s your name? Pronouns? I feel gross calling you ‘it.’“

“I’m Tony,” the creature said. Tony blinked at him, frowning, then added, “I’m male. It’s why I’m blue!” he added cheerfully, fluttering his wings. They shimmered in the dim glow from the flashlight. “Females are yellow.”

“That’s neat,” Bucky said faintly.

Tony blinked at him a little longer, then stood up, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “Well, you’re much prettier than most of the monster fuckers that come looking for us.”

Bucky felt very proud again. He thought maybe he shouldn’t, except Tony didn’t look offended or scared, so. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Yeah, like this weird little human? I don’t think he’s a monster fucker but he smells really fuckin’ horny whenever he comes. I can’t tell if it’s at the thought of me or his hunting partner,” Tony continued, oblivious.

Bucky surged to his feet on instinct and reached out for Tony’s hand. Tony stared up at him, mouth falling open in shock. He looked down at their entwined hands, then back at Bucky’s face.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know screaming hurts your ears but Tony. Tony. Please help me embarrass Steve.”

“The little hunter?” Tony asked skeptically.

“He and Sam just want your picture,” Bucky assured him, and then, “I will make it worth your while.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. “What do you have that I would want?”

“Have you ever tried a s’more?” Bucky asked.

Tony blinked, uncomprehending. “No?”

“You’ll love ‘em,” Bucky decided. “Come on.”

“Be careful of my fur, I’m venomous,” Tony warned again, but he allowed Bucky to pull him along anyway.

Bucky warned him to cover his ears just before they cleared the treeline, which seemed to get him in Tony’s good graces as both Sam and Steve screamed bloody murder when they saw him.

[onecanonlife]

Tommy’s getting tired of people thinking he’s not real. Tubbo, meanwhile, hopes that this hallucination of his best friend will stay a while longer.

They work it out.

(word count: 1,563)

............................

It only takes about another fifteen minutes for him to snap.

“What the fuck are you doing that for?” he demands, planting his feet and wheeling around and staring Tubbo dead in the face, because Tubbo’s been trailing along behind him like a fucking lost puppy or some shit since he got out, and he’s tired of it, tired of his best friend looking at him like that, with equal amounts of wonder and dread in his eyes, like he’s not fucking real at all.

Or should that be former best friend? He doesn’t fucking know. Apparently, it didn’t take all that long for Tubbo to replace him with Ranboo of all people. And get married. Apparently.

Tubbo blinks at him.

“I don’t think you’re real,” he says, and if Tommy’s anger hadn’t been boiling over before, it is now. He didn’t go to hell and back for people to tell him he’s not real. He didn’t stay in the same cell as Dream for a month for people to tell him he’s not real. He is so, so very real. The shock that shoots through his system, the bolt of all-consuming terror that overtakes his mind whenever anyone so much as bumps into him is proof enough of that. He is real, and who the fuck is anyone else to say that he’s not?

“Well guess what,” he says, “I fucking am, so deal with it or go away.”

He spent so long wishing to be by Tubbo’s side again. He didn’t think he’d get out to find this. Didn’t think he’d come out to be replaced. Didn’t think Tubbo would crouch along after him without saying anything at all, like he’s the one who died.

“You don’t need to be angry about it,” Tubbo replies, as if he’s the one being wronged here. “I’ve got it all figured out. See, I didn’t think you were dead at first, either. Sam told us and my brain went all weird and flat and in denial, because I knew it couldn’t be true, because you couldn’t be dead. But then it was a few days later and you still hadn’t come out, and it was true after all. So I can’t trust my brain, really, so this is probably my brain going into denial again. Wishful thinking.”

“You—” He cuts himself off, rage warring with confusion warring with he-doesn’t-fucking-know-what, because he’s been dead and locked in prison and he’s not even used to the sunlight yet, much less his own emotions. “I literally pinched you. I pinched you, and then you ran away and stood staring at me from that new—that new McDonald’s!”

“Tactile hallucinations aren’t impossible,” Tubbo informs him. “It’s probably because I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

That draws him up short, just a little bit. “You have?” he asks. “I thought you got married.”

“I did,” Tubbo agrees. “It was a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing, really, so nobody got invited, but I was thinking about maybe having a bigger ceremony once you got out so you could be my best man, or something. I don’t really know how that works. ‘Cause it’s a platonic marriage, right, so I don’t know if you’re supposed to do it differently. But I wanted you to be there, and then it turned out that you wouldn’t ever, ever be.”

Well. Alright, so he wasn’t disregarded entirely, then. But still—

“And then,” Tubbo continues, “and then we adopted Michael, and I wanted you to be his godfather. You were supposed to be his godfather. Michael was going to love you. I thought you were gonna come back out and you were gonna meet Michael and everything was going to be alright. But then you didn’t.”

“Who the fuck is Michael,” he says flatly, even though his head is reeling because adopted—?

“He’s our son!” Tubbo says. “Mine and Ranboo’s! And you were gonna be the godfather. And it was going to be great, and we were gonna be a family, but then you died, and now Michael’s not even going to get to meet you. And you’re just, you’re just dead and I’m following you around because I don’t have anything better to do.”

There is—there is so much to unpack there, he doesn’t even know where to begin. Ranboo is—is the spouse, then, and he supposes he should have guessed that. The Michael issue isn’t too much clearer, since he doesn’t have a frame of reference for this—for this child? That Tubbo has adopted? What the hell? But it’s the last sentence that sends the anger flooding back, because what the fuck does he mean, he doesn’t have anything better to do?

“If that’s how you feel, then why don’t you—” he starts, but Tubbo cuts him off.

“I’m sort of pathetic, I guess,” he says. “‘Cause I’m following around a hallucination. I guess it’s because I know it’s the best I’m ever going to get. And you know, I’d rather have a you that’s not real than not have you at all, because this way, I get to see you and hear you. Even if you’re not here. So I need to enjoy it while I can, because I don’t know how long hallucinations last for, so I don’t know when you’ll go away again. And I don’t want you to go away. I don’t want you to be dead.”

All through this speech, Tubbo’s face remains distant, a little open, a little blank. But his eyes are welling up with tears, and as Tommy watches, they start spilling over his cheeks, uncommented upon.

And Tommy feels the rage drain out of him.

It was hell, where he was, in that terrible darkness, that void, being torn apart and shoved back together again. It was hell, coming back, everything too bright and too loud and too much, his body flinching and his heart racing at any movement, and a single touch is still enough to send him back there, to that moment, his vision fading and pain bursting like fireworks and Dream’s mask leaning over him, grinning.

It’s been hell, seeing how everything’s changed.

But Tubbo missed him. Really, really missed him. And maybe he’s replaced him a bit, and Tommy no longer has any idea how to feel about that, because it seems like Tubbo wasn’t trying to? That Tubbo still wanted him to be there, still intended him to be there? So he’s still a little pissed, maybe, and he still really, really wants people to stop being so weird, to stop reminding him at every juncture that he died, died and came back, but—

But Tubbo is crying.

“Tubbo,” he says, “I’m not a hallucination.”

“You are, though,” Tubbo says. “My mind’s playing tricks. You’re not—you’re not really—” He hiccups, and Tommy comes to a decision.

He extends a hand. It should be fine. It’s just Tubbo, and he’s choosing to do this. It should be fine. It’s going to be fine.

“C’mon, then,” he says. “Hold my hand, I’ll prove it. Maybe you could make up a pinch in your brain, but I bet you couldn’t make up this.”

Tubbo stares at his hand for a very, very long time.

“Don’t make this weird,” he says. “Tubbo, please, for the love of god, don’t make this weird. I really will go away, and you can just stay here and cry.”

Tubbo blinks, hard. And then, slowly, reaches out and takes his hand.

Tommy flinches, every nerve in his body lighting up, screaming at him to get away, and he can’t stop himself from gasping, from letting out a little whimper. But in the next moment, he’s fine, his heart rate already calming, and it’s just Tubbo’s hand in his, his grip loose and warm.

Tubbo’s eyebrows furrow. A minute passes before he speaks.

“This is a long time for a tactile hallucination to last,” he says.

Tommy rolls his eyes as hard as he possibly can, in order to express all of his exasperation.

“I’m not a fucking hallucination, alright?” he says. “Has married life made you an idiot or something?”

Tubbo looks up at him, then. He looks back, and tries to convey with his eyeballs his sheer displeasure at literally all of this.

“I’m holding your hand,” Tubbo says slowly. “You’re not disappearing, and I’m holding your hand.”

He tries to convey with his eyeballs that Tubbo should consider arriving at the point sometime soon.

“Oh my god,” Tubbo says. “You’re real. Tommy, you’re real.”

“Damn fucking right I’m real,” he says. And something like relief washes over him. It’s nice to hear those words, from someone else. And Tubbo just stands there and holds his hand and keeps crying, harder, if that’s even possible, and Tommy thinks that this is a scene that he should possibly put a stop to.

But he doesn’t. He stands there and holds Tubbo’s hand and lets Tubbo cry. Because nothing is alright. Nothing at all is alright. Everything sucks and everything’s different and he needs to kill Dream and the world kept on turning without him. But Tubbo is glad to have him back. Tubbo missed him. Tubbo still wants him.

If his eyes are wet, it’s just the rain. He glances up, and blinks against the sun.

Just the rain.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed iii, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): jungkook x reader x est. relationship yoongi

summary: Your relationship with Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, is unlike anything else in the entire world. At this point, it’s almost like telepathy with how close you are. Still, he surprised you. Such as asking Jeon Jungkook to fuck you. Once. Twice. And this time Jungkook is waiting for you, with Yoongi. 

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship with Yoongi (and they basically have heart eyes whenever they see each other lol); tiny bit of angst; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, voyeurism, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, m-masturbation, partial handjob, doggy, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS; takes place after 2021 GDA, yup blond JK is best boy and kind boy

mentions of the pandemic because this is based on real time

–

You closed the door behind you and breathed out slowly. It was late, quite dark outside. Most people would be asleep by now. You unhooked your black face mask from your ears and pushed the hood of your black parka down, releasing your hair. 

Ah, there was always stress and adrenaline to get here.

You had stated working again, so you weren't here every day anymore. You had to go back after all, if you wanted to keep your job. You worked from home most days and, with the current state of the world, now it was all the time. Still, you couldn’t take any chances. You made sure to get tested and have your results before coming here. Negative, so you were good. 

You turned on the light. 

A blond bullet collided into you.

"Oof!"

You had to plant your feet and brace for impact, and you still almost toppled over. You would have if it wasn't for the strong arms that encircled you and lifted you up, making you dizzy as you were spun around. 

"Ack, J-Jungkook..."

You could feel your eyes rolling in their sockets. You were put firmly on the ground and still being squeezed to death. 

"I'm so happy to see you!" Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, exclaimed, albeit in a hushed tone, but no less excited. "I was surprised when you said you could come today!"

You managed to blink your eyeballs back in place to see Jungkook's animated face above you, blond hair fluffy and bouncy from spinning you around. He wasn't wearing any makeup and he smelled freshly washed, as if he had taken a late shower. His brown eyes were sparkling as he grinned at you, showing off his bright white teeth. You hadn't seen his ash blond hair in real life yet, only on television. 

You smiled at him. "Yeah? Did you miss me?"

Jungkook nodded quickly. "I wanted to show you my hair." He bent down and placed it against your nose. You could smell the nice scent of the herbal product he used. “Do you like it, noona?"

You chuckled. "Of course, I like it," you said fondly, nuzzling the dark roots of the blond locks. It felt nice inhaling his familiar scent, a comforting and clean one. "You're my lock screen."

"I've been betrayed."

You chuckled as you heard the raspy, sleepy voice of Min Yoongi, your boyfriend. Owner of said apartment you were in right now. The lazy center of your universe. The reason why you even bothered to run around in the dark. The reason why you had to match your schedule with the guard shift so the security that recognized you could turn a blind eye. Not all of the security recognized you, just the ones Yoongi had a careful and stem conversation with. That’s how it had to be.

All because Min Yoongi was also SUGA of BTS. Agust D. Lil meow meow. The softest fluff with the sharpest tongue. 

You looked up to see Yoongi padding down the hallway in a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of loose black pants. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, squinting, but with a small smile on his lips. Jungkook released you as Yoongi neared, your body automatically wandering towards him. You reached into your oversized parka coat and pulled out your phone. You had changed the outside once again, to a TinyTan SUGA clear case, to show off the multi-chrome purple finish of the BTS S20+. You turned it around in your hand and pressed the side button. The screen lit up, revealing your lock screen.

"Thanks for standing next to each other. It made picking a lock screen much easier."

It was a picture of Jungkook and Yoongi, standing on stage right before the 'Life Goes On' performance at GDA 2020.

"I missed seeing you there," you added softly, holding your phone tightly. It was weirdly emotional, knowing Yoongi was back. How could he ever think anyone was going to forget him? “It’s always better when the seven of you are together.”

Yoongi chuckled, fluffing the back of his black hair. "Ah, back to working hard once again..." he complained, but you could tell he didn't mean it at all. 

And for you.

You wanted him to be on stage again. You wanted him to be busy again, doing what he loved, getting into nonsense in Run BTS!, looking cool in photo shoots, back to actively making music all the time. You were an independent person and you didn't necessarily need your significant other to always be beside you. For the longest time, you had even been quite comfortable with it. But the little while of Yoongi's sudden rest made you realize that it was nice to always be around him. To be somewhat normal, even if your relationship couldn’t and would never be fully normal.

And now you were disturbing his sleep. Now, not just his, but Jungkook's too. And maybe... Maybe that made you a burde–

Yoongi suddenly stepped up and tapped you lightly on the forehead with two fingers. 

"Stop that train of thought right now."

You frowned and bonked him right back with the back of your hand. "What if I was thinking about dick, huh?"

"If you were thinking about dick, you'd be on Jungkook's right now, and then I'd be pulling up a chair to watch the show."

"What if I was thinking about your dick, hmm?"

"Do you even remember what my dick looks like?" Yoongi replied haughtily. 

"Of course, I do. You painted the fucking Mona Lisa on my tits the last time I was here."

"Hm, you're right."

Jungkook was laughing hard behind you, the high-pitched one that came out when he couldn’t help himself. Both of you turned to see Jungkook with his arms around his stomach as he cackled at your bickering. 

"It's like..." Jungkook wheezed. "It's like watching hyung fight himself and losing..."

"I’m not losing," Yoongi retorted, pursing his lips. 

"You always lose."

"Because I let you win."

"That's true, because you love me."

You smiled cheekily at Yoongi. You thought he was going to give you his usual snappy comeback, but instead he leaned over and kissed your forehead. His  hair shaded his eyes a little. He smiled at you, dark brown orbs sparkling. 

I do love you. 

"You wanna spend all night standing here or are you going to join me in bed?" Yoongi teased, ticking his chin at your sneakers. 

You pointed to Jungkook. "Is he coming too?"

The laughter instantly left Jungkook’s face, replaced by nervousness. "Ah... I don't have to..." he stammered. "If you guys want to be alone... I only wanted to say hello..."

"He's coming," Yoongi said purposefully, ignoring Jungkook's ramble. "He's been waiting two hours to stick his dick in you."

"Hyung!"

You raised your eyebrows as you stepped out of your shoes. "I stated my arrival time in the text. Did you not tell him?"

"I told him, but he came right after shooting. Just in case you arrived earlier."

You smirked and tugged on Jungkook’s white shirt. "Did he tell you why I can only come at specific times?"

"I know, but..." Jungkook chewed on his lip. "Hyung said he would try and see if you could come more often."

You smiled ruefully as you took Yoongi's hand and followed him down the hall. You were still holding onto Jungkook's shirt, so you lowered your hand to take his too. He looked surprised for a second before you squeezed it reassuringly. The white with his blond hair was a good choice. You wondered if it was done on purpose. He was even wearing nicer black trousers, although his shirt wasn’t tucked in.

Was it for your sake?

"Ah, I don’t know if that’s possible. Don't want anyone to find out, after all. And," you added with a chuckle. "I don't want to get you in trouble either, Jungkookie."

"He's already in trouble," Yoongi laughed. "Taehyung caught him mumbling your name in his sleep."

Jungkook's cheeks instantly flushed. "I-It wasn't sexual!"

You blinked at him. "No one said it was."

He turned redder and grabbed your parka, hiding his face behind the big hood. "R... right."

Maybe you were being too greedy. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut so Yoongi wouldn’t feel pressure to indulge in your fantasies. Maybe you were asking too much.

The sigh came out of you, heavy with self-doubt.

"Maybe we shou–"

Yoongi's lips were suddenly on yours, kissing you deeply. Your eyes widened as he pressed you against Jungkook's hard body, watching you through half-lidded eyes. He could sense your worry and perhaps he guessed your reaction. You hand reached back to hold onto Jungkook to prevent yourself from falling, but your eyes were on Yoongi, the one who knew you best, the one who knew that he too was asking a lot from you, the one who was trying to remind you that everything was okay. His dark brown orbs were telling you, we will take everything step by step, and his lips moved on yours, I love you. You mouthed it back with a smile. 

Yoongi pulled away, the smile reaching his eyes. 

"You're the most special person to me."

Your heart softened, hearing those familiar words from your current favorite song. 

"I thought that was for ARMY."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow in mock distraught. "Are you not an ARMY?"

"Of course."

"Then it's for you too."

Yoongi was like that. He couldn't and wasn't the kind of guy to write you traditional love songs, but he gave you all sorts of other things. Small things, actions that seemed trivial or nonexistent to others. And maybe someone else would overlook those things, but you knew how difficult it was for him to show affection, even more so because of his job. To be honest, you were similar, showing your love in nuance and teasing. Also, you liked the treasure hunt that was Min Yoongi. And above all, most importantly, he listened to you, listened so deeply it felt like he knew what you were thinking. 

There was nothing like the telepathy been you and Min Yoongi. 

Jungkook was sniffing your head. 

"What's this small?"

You almost laughed at his childlike tone. Yoongi smiled too, leaning forward and sniffing your temple, next to your hair.

"Oh? It's fruity."

"It's peaches," you explained as Jungkook parted your hair to sniff deeper, as if that was going to do anything. He was probably just trying to fuck up your hair. "I ran out of shampoo and they didn’t have my usual at the store."

You were suddenly aware that you were squashed between Yoongi and Jungkook’s bodies as they two of them were smelling you, Yoongi’s arms around your waist, Jungkook’s hands on your hips. Despite being fully clothed, the position was sending tingles up your spine, your breathing shallowing, tickling Yoongi’s cheek as Jungkook brushed your hair to one side, pressing his lips against your bare neck. You felt Yoongi’s lips on your jaw, kissing against your pulse. You whined a little, one hand bunching against Yoongi’s shirt as your other hand drifted down to Jungkook’s right hand on your hip, stroking his knuckles.

Yoongi reached up to unzip your parka.

“W-wait, be careful–” you started, but Yoongi shushed you, nuzzling your cheek.

“I will be,” Yoongi whispered softly. “That’s why Jungkook’s here to help me.”

You bit your lip as Yoongi unzipped your coat with his right hand, using his left to hold the placket down. He kissed up to your mouth as his hands slid into the coat, fingers brushing against the red flannel underneath. Jungkook’s lips were moving up to your ear, lightly nipping at the curve and making you shiver, chest bumping against Yoongi’s as your ass hit Jungkook’s crotch.

“I…” You shut your eyes, trying to concentrate as Yoongi sucked on your lower lip. “I don’t deserve this…”

Yoongi clicked his tongue, biting at your lip roughly. You opened your eyes to his disapproving glare, eyes dark from his lowered lashes. His large hands squeezed your waist.

“You’re not allowed to say such things.”

You felt the heat spread from his hands, pooling into your core.

“Isn’t that right, Jungkook?”

Yoongi ticked an eyebrow at you as you gasped a little, Jungkook’s lips on your earlobe, voice lustful and deep.

“That’s right, noona. Let Yoongi-hyung and I ruin you.”

…

Help.

Yoongi’s fingers began undoing the buttons of the red flannel, one by one. He was well practiced at unbuttoning shirts with one hand now. A skill that he had honed for himself and for you. He smirked as you noticed, whispering your name in a slow, purring drawl, deep and raspy, dark brown eyes watching you and drinking in your reaction.

Min Yoongi was scary. He knew how to make you wet instantly.

And then Jungkook did the same, breathing your name into your ear in his silvery low octave. Your hand on Yoongi’s shirt clenched and tugged him close, moaning into his lips, kissing him hard. Jungkook’s hand slipped out of yours and reached up to your shoulders, pushing your clothes down, revealing your bare skin. Taking them off you as your tongue slid into Yoongi’s mouth, his soft pants against your lips as your hips grinded into Jungkook’s crotch, feeling him harden at your closeness. Your parka and shirt slid to the floor as Yoongi pulled you forward, closer and closer to the bed, Jungkook encouraging you by smacking your ass with his hips.

Yoongi broke the kiss with a flick of his head, making you whine in disappointment. He chuckled, looking down at you with a devious smile.

“Jungkook wants something from you.”

Yoongi turned you around with his hands on your hips, colliding you with Jungkook’s hard chest. You gasped a little, looking up to see Jungkook chewing on his lower lip, bunny teeth flashing. The tiny mole under his lip bounced with his biting. His golden hair framed his apprehensive brown eyes, finally making eye contact.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You tilted your head. “Do you want me to blow you again?”

Jungkook’s ears flushed red. “A-ah, n-no… I mean, yes, but…”

Yoongi snickered, unhooking your bra with his right hand. He lowered one strap and then the other, stripping it from you and tossing it aside. Jungkook’s cheeks tinged pink, eyes immediately dropping to stare at your tits. You smirked, placing your palms underneath them and bouncing them a little. You felt Yoongi’s fingers dancing down the small of your back, hovering around the waistband of your black sweatpants.

“Why aren’t you dressed like how you are on your Instagram?” Yoongi muttered behind you. “False advertising.”

“You have an Instagram?” Jungkook blurted out, still staring at your nipples.

You rolled your eyes even though Yoongi couldn’t see you. “Because someone would notice, obviously.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue. “Just one time…”

“Wait, how come I don’t know you have an Instagram?” Jungkook whined, hands coming up to settle on your breasts and squeezing them. You lowered your hands, gasping as Jungkook’s palms rubbed against your hard nipples.

“You never asked,” Yoongi answered, snapping the waistband into your skin. “Also, it’s private.”

“C-can we talk about this later?” you panted out.

Jungkook grinned and dropped his hands a little, brushing his fingers against your nipples. You moaned softly, your vision shaded by your lashes, seeing his mischievous smirk.

“Mhm, as long as you promise to show me after.”

You scoffed. “Sure, it’s not that interestin–” You whimpered as Jungkook pinched your nipples, rubbing them between his fingertips. “A-ah, Jungkook…”

He breathed your name, no honorifics, and your eyes locked with his. Fuck, he was so handsome with his ash blond hair, reminding you of when Yoongi had blond hair. Ugh, so fucking hot. You felt your sweatpants being shoved down your hips but you barely noticed, lost in daydreams of blond Yoongi and blond Jungkook.

“Can I eat you out?”

You were abruptly yanked back into the present by Jungkook’s request.

“Yes.” Fuck. You said that far too fast and far too needy. Jungkook grinned, removing his hands from your breasts. “Ah, I mean…”

He leaned forward, pressing his nose against yours. “You’re out of it today.”

You felt Yoongi’s fingers slip under the waistband of your panties. His lips were traveling down your back, kissing down your spine. You trembled slightly, swallowing as you stared into Jungkook’s dark brown eyes.

And you couldn’t help but think, was this really okay? Was this fair, for you to have both at once?

Jungkook tipped his head, lips against yours. He seemed to sense your hesitation. “I thought you wanted me?” His soft hair brushed against your cheek, golden rays blocking your vision. “Thought you loved looking at me?”

“I do,” you whimpered. “I love looking at you.”

Yoongi fingers pulling your panties down, down, liquid leaking out and clinging to the inside of your thighs. Your cheeks heated, realizing how wet you were.

“Then what’s the matter?” Yoongi purred against your lower back.

“Don’t… don’t want to hurt you, Yoongi,” you whispered against Jungkook’s lips. Your vision blurred and you blinked rapidly. Ah, why was the world so heavy all of a sudden? Why couldn’t you be calm as usual? Why couldn’t you roll with it as usual?

Because you missed them.

Them.

Jungkook kissed you tenderly as Yoongi stood back up, his lips pressed to your ear.

“There’s nothing like us. You know there isn’t.”

He was right, of course. There was nothing like you and Yoongi.

Jungkook pulled back and Yoongi’s right hand appeared in your periphery, his long fingers tucking Jungkook’s blond hair behind his left ear, giving you a clear view of Jungkook’s beautiful eyes, the unique shape, the rich brown color, the way they looked at you, as if he was afraid you were going to disappear. Waiting for the heartbreak.

“And there’s no one like Jungkook,” Yoongi murmured. “You want him. He wants you. Isn’t that enough?”

And Yoongi was right again. There was no one like Jungkook.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you breathed. “I’m sorry, but I really do want you so bad.”

“You can have me. However much you want,” Jungkook replied. Eyes locked with yours, meaning every word. He tilted his head, leaning in again, lashes lowering, breath against your lips.

“I want you to take it all.”

But Jungkook wasn’t the only one who said it.

Your eyes widened as you heard Yoongi echo Jungkook’s words right into your ear.

“Take it all,” Yoongi growled. “Take it and don’t hold back.”

Your name fell from Yoongi’s lips, your name, like a spark to fire, igniting you. There no one like Yoongi, snapping you out of your doubt, taking your heart and holding it tight while turning you on. You grabbed Jungkook’s white shirt and yanked his body to yours as you kissed him, inhaling his clean scent, his lips an addiction. And there was no one like Jungkook, because what both of you thought was just a crush, just a one-time thing, wasn’t. For some reason, you couldn’t stop and he couldn’t stop, hooked on the taste of his lips and his tongue sliding against yours, moaning into your mouth as you moaned into his, feeling Yoongi’s hands on your hips, pressing you into Jungkook’s clothed crotch, some of your juices getting onto his pants and staining them.

Jungkook pushed your head up, breaking the kiss and gasping, eyelids fluttering. He pressed your head back against Yoongi’s shoulder, kissing down your chest, running his tongue over your skin. You shuddered, head falling back down to watch him. Chocolate orbs to yours as he licked your left nipple, twirling his wet muscle around it, covering it with saliva. You whimpered at the dirty action, arching your back to press the hard nub into his mouth. Jungkook whined in his throat, closing his lips around it as you humped your chest onto his face. He sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks, intensifying the feeling as Yoongi teased your other nipple, pinching it and rolling it between his fingers.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…”

Your thighs squeezed together, desperate for friction.

Jungkook released your nipple, licking it a few times, letting you watch the swollen nub get slapped back and forth by his tongue. You shivered, hips bumping into his. Jungkook’s strong hands came up to hold you still.

“Don’t waste it by rubbing it all over me,” he teased. “I want it in my mouth.”

You clutched his white shirt and yanked up, making Jungkook yelp with your force.

“Take it off,” you half-growled, half-whined. “Need it off.”

Yoongi chuckled at your impatience as Jungkook wiggled out of his shirt, throwing it aside. He looked back at you, blond hair covering one of his eyes, smirk on his lips.

“Better?”

Ugh, Jungkook was so attractive. The shape of his broad shoulders, his sculpted arms, the fucking tattoos that shone on his tan skin, the way his body trimmed down to that v-line. Your eyes roamed down his torso and then back up, licking your lips. Jungkook raised his eyebrows, completely aware of your staring.

“Yes. Much better.”

You took him by the shoulders and pushed him down to his knees. His eyes widened, stumbling a little as he knelt for you, hands coming up to grip your hips for support. You pushed his left hand away, hooking your leg onto Jungkook’s left shoulder and presenting your pussy right into his face. He gasped at the sight, eyes glued to your dripping core, lips parting wetly.

“Fuck,” he breathed hotly. You squirmed, trying to get into his face, but his right hand held you down, drinking in the image in front of him, left hand finding your ass and gripping it tightly. “You smell so fucking sexy.”

“Jungkook, please…”

His eyes flickered up to your face, half-lidded with lust, dipping his head down.

“Can’t resist you,” he mumbled. “I just have to have a taste of his nectar.”

And then his tongue on you, licking a fat stripe across your opening, moaning as your flavor invaded his tastebuds, his hand lifting your ass to tip your hips into his hot mouth. You gasped, pressing into Yoongi’s chest, your hands reaching behind you and gripping his slim waist. You had to tilt your body and lock your upper arms so you wouldn’t bump into his left shoulder by accident. Yoongi hummed soothingly, aware of your consideration, hands gently kneading your breasts as Jungkook’s wet tongue slid into your hole, witnessing your wanton expression as he sucked out your juices, adding a little suction, removing it, driving you insane.

“A-ah, yes, fuck, Jungkook, yes…”

When was the last time Yoongi ate you out? Months ago. Yoongi had a tongue unmatched, the perfect combination of speed, pressure, and technique. His tongue technology, one might say. Jungkook’s tongue was softer, less practiced, but he made up for it with enthusiasm and his intense gaze on you, moaning into your pussy. You slid down a little and cried out as his tongue made contact with your sensitive clit, his tongue pressing against it and swirling, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your thigh tensing against his cheek.

“Mm, yes, Jungkook, right there…”

Yoongi pinched and pulled your nipples. You snuck a glance at him, looking up, and realized he was looking down at you. His lips curved upwards to a playful smirk as he noticed your curious gaze. He tugged at your nipples, earning your soft whines.

“You moved down to put less strain on my shoulder?” he murmured fondly.

You nodded quickly, gasping as Jungkook sucked on your clit, causing you to roll your hips into his face. Jungkook grunted, digging his fingers into your ass, spreading you out under him. Fuck, his mouth was so soft and so warm, adding to your heat. Your hands worked into his hair, pressing him into you, his slurping sounds so lewd that your legs were quivering.

His eyes flickered to yours, pupils dilated, nose in your crotch, and, fuck, Jeon Jungkook was just so hot, on his knees and eating you out like a fucking buffet, his tattooed arm curved around you and your right thigh on his left shoulder, pressing against his cheek as your fingers curled in his blond locks, humping his face to add friction. Either Jungkook was inherently good at eating pussy or he had somehow rehearsed this and, considering his profession, you were guessing the former.

The Golden Maknae lived up to his name in appearance and talent.

You didn’t want to lean too much on Yoongi, so you put more of your weight onto Jungkook. He seemed to feel nothing at all, busy clamping his lips down on your clit and sucking harder. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, wail in your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as all of the sensations piled on you at once – Yoongi’s deft fingers playing with your nipples, Jungkook’s scorching mouth and tongue abusing your swollen clit, your hands gripping Jungkook’s soft hair and fucking his handsome face – and it was too much, all too much as your lower lip popped out of your teeth, moaning loudly as your orgasm radiated through you, throbbing waves rippling from your core as you came into Jungkook’s waiting mouth and chin, leaking all over his skin, dripping down his neck. He groaned, vibrating your clit, and you gasped, rutting into his face roughly, pressing your head into Yoongi’s torso.

“Oh, God, fuck, Jungkook, Yoongi…”

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was suffocating or not, but Jungkook himself didn’t seem to give a shit, cleaning you off with his tongue and burying his nose into your pussy, rubbing it against your clit. Your hips bucked at the sensitivity, your leg falling off his shoulder as you sucked in a breath. It forced his mouth to retreat, and you were greeted with the sight of Jungkook’s eyes slowly opening, his nose, lips, and chin covered in your glistening, viscous juices. He made eye contact with you, hand coming up to wipe it off, pink tongue sliding out and licking it from the back of his hand.

“Hah…” Jungkook panted, hungrily sucking up your taste. “That’s my drink of choice.”

You chuckled. “Sorry you can’t get it at a bar.”

Jungkook ticked his head, smirking devilishly. “I can if you’re sitting on the bar, legs spread open for me.”

Damn, what a visual. You straightened with the help of Yoongi, only for his right hand to close around your arm, yanking you to the bed. You started, bouncing slightly as you fell onto the mattress. Jungkook seemed amused, standing up to watch with interest. His blond hair was tousled wildly, messy from you holding onto his head. He smirked, lips dark pink from eating you out, the sharpness of his jawline standing out. But you couldn’t stare at him for long, because Yoongi plunged three fingers into your aching pussy, filling you up suddenly. You yelped, snapping your head to Yoongi’s dark, intense gaze, made darker by his black bangs shadowing his eyes.

“Y-Yoongi!”

He purred your name, giving you a teasing smile, tongue against the side of his pink lips.

“Mhm?”

“W-want…” You gasped as he slowly thrust into you, thumb knuckle rubbing against your inflamed clit, pushing his fingers in, your pussy clenching around them. “Want your cock…”

“Sorry, my love,” he murmured. “Can’t yet. Doctor’s orders.”

You furrowed your brows at him, raising your hips to meet his hand. “I’m beginning you think you’re enjoying denying me.”

Yoongi’s foxy smile implied just that. “What are you talking about?” He leaned down, tongue dancing between his teeth, snickering as you whimpered. “I’m not denying you. That’s why I asked Jungkook to come and stuff his big cock into you.”

You whimpered, biting your lip and snapped your legs closed, eyes rolling back into your head as you came all over his hand, soaking his skin and dripping onto the bed. Yoongi moaned softly as he felt your walls pulse against his fingers.

“Fuck, I love it when I can feel you cum for me.”

You shuddered, muscles tingling with pleasure. Yoongi pulled his fingers out slowly, groaning as he felt you tighten around them, trying to prevent him from leaving. He chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Could you help hyung out, Jungkook?”

You shifted your eyes to Jungkook, who suddenly froze, the fly of his black pants wide open, hand down his black boxer briefs. Yoongi noticed your startled expression and turned his head too, both eyebrows raising. Jungkook’s cheeks tinged pink.

“Er…”

“Were you jacking off just now?”

Jungkook’s eyes darted everywhere except Yoongi’s face. “Er…”

“Show me, Jungkook,” you breathed out.

His large doe-like eyes shot to your body to on the bed, legs spreading, Yoongi’s wet fingers hovering over your quivering mound. He stole a glance at Yoongi, who jerked his head towards you.

“She gave you an order.”

“Hyung…” Jungkook whined. “It’s embarrassing…”

Yoongi shrugged, his fingers touching your swollen clit. You jumped, gasping as he rubbed in slow, large circles, stimulating it gently. The sensitive bundle of nerves throbbed against his fingertips, pussy clenching around nothing.

“Y-Yoongi, don’t, I’m t-too sensitive,” you panted, legs threatening to close once more.

“Keep your legs open,” Yoongi said sternly. “Let Jungkookie see.”

You gritted your teeth, hands twisting in the sheets, hips raising to his hand. “I c-can’t… You’re too good, Yoongi…” You had to lock your knees to prevent them from collapsing inwards, feeling him build his speed, eyes fluttering closed as you moaned once more, feeling the pleasure flood throughout, wetter and wetter, your slit opening and closing. You felt Yoongi lean down, his black hair against your cheek. Oh, fuck. His pine-scented cologne. Sex. Yoongi. You resisted the urge to grab his head and fiercely make out with him. He wasn’t fully recovered yet. His voice was that low, raspy drawl, arousing you just as much as his fingers rubbing your clit.

“Open your eyes and see what you’ve done to poor Jungkook.”

You opened your eyes to see Jungkook was closer now, right next to the bed, pants and underwear around his knees as he pumped his cock right next to you, eyes fixated on Yoongi’s fingers and your sopping wet pussy, his pouty pink lips wet and open, blond hair all over his face. The head of his cock was an angry red, veins popping out along the thick length as he smeared his pre-cum over the tip with his finger, hissing at the sensitivity. He seemed to feel your stare and then your eyes locked.

“Jungkook…”

Breathlessly, his name drifting out of your lips like smoke.

His dark brown orbs were nearly black with how blown-out his pupils were. He gasped your name out, needy and desperate, his chin lifting, hair falling back to reveal his lustful dark eyes as his mouth opened, pink tongue lolling out a little.

“Wanna cum with you,” Jungkook begged. “Tell when you’re close. Please.”

You nodded, sharply cut off as Yoongi assaulted your clit, forearm nearly vibrating as he pushed you to the edge, so close, so close that you had to chomp down on the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from orgasming right then and there.

“Y-Yoongi, he’s not ready yet…”

Yoongi chuckled. “Oh, I know.”

You whimpered, thighs caving in a little, but Yoongi growled deep in his chest, warning you.

“Don’t close your legs.”

Normally you would fight him, but this situation was different. You wanted to please Yoongi, give him everything he asked for because you knew he couldn’t get everything he wanted. Your core tightened, the pitch of your cries hiking as you tried to hold back, staring at Jungkook’s long fingers wrapped around his thick, stiff cock, black tattoos rippling on tan skin as he chased his climax, watching your legs shake with strain as Yoongi took you to your limits. Your wetness was soaking a puddle into the sheets, the scent of your arousal so strong it seemed to prevail all others.

Fuck, you couldn’t anymore, you just couldn’t.

“J-Jungkook… a-ah, gonna cum soon, fuck, Yoongi, fuck, you’re too fucking good!”

Your last words turned into a wild, guttural moan as you came, hips ramming into Yoongi’s hand, back arching, your orgasm pulling you up taut like a marionette on a string, thighs shaking as your pussy throbbed with release. Your juices dripped down like honey, splattering over your thighs and down your ass before you abruptly fell, legs crumpling as Yoongi’s hand cupped your hot, trembling mound, his heavy pants mixing with yours. He groaned softly, feeling your puffy pussy lips and clit flinch and jerk as the aftershocks rippled through your nerves.

Jungkook whined deep in his throat, splattering his cum all over your leg and on the sheets, hot thick strings that made you shudder as it covered your skin. He pumped it all out, emptying it on you. Surely, you couldn’t muster the strength to take a dick right now. But one look at Jungkook and his hand still gripping his cock, slowly, delicately stroking it once more, staring at the mess that both of you made, sweat beaded on his forehead.

Yeah, no, you definitely wanted it in you.

“Jungkook…”

He raised his head, ash blond strands soaked with sweat, wispy around his eyes.

“Want your cock.”

He smirked. “What do you say?”

Now. You resisted the urge to be a smartass. There were other ways.

“Let noona’s wet, tight pussy take care of you,” you purred.

The dominant spark in Jungkook’s eyes flitted away, replaced by his submissive doe eyes, his desire, his desperation. Fuck, it was so fun seeing that, the duality, reminding you so much of Yoongi and his softness juxtaposed with his sarcasm. Yoongi removed his hand, moving to the nightstand and grabbing a towel, reaching over to wipe Jungkook’s cum off you. You sat up, taking the towel from him as you noticed him leaning on his left arm.

“Ah, be careful,” you reprimanded, shooing him away.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not broken.”

“You’re not fixed either,” you pouted, cleaning yourself up. You made eye contact with him and he clicked his tongue, nodding. Yoongi was about to move away, but you grabbed a fistful of his sweatpants, pulling him back. He tilted his head, sending you an inquisitive look.

“I shouldn’t do any more,” he murmured. “I can just watch.”

You yanked the side of his pants down and Yoongi arched an eyebrow. Your eyes on his crotch, then back to his face. Your lips parted, tongue flickering out. He could put two and two together.

“You can do some things without moving.”

His gaze sharpened. “I’m going to want to fuck your face.”

Your lips curved into a smirk. “Well, you can’t. You’ll have to sit there and take it like a good boy.” You removed your hand and patted the pillows, grinning. “I want to get spit roasted.”

Yoongi sucked in a tight breath, eyebrow twitching.

“It’s not really a spit roast unless you’re the passive one,” Yoongi tried to argue as he tugged his pants down, getting onto the bed. You scooted down, feeling a hard, firm body come up behind you, hands sliding up your waist to cup you breasts. You moaned softly, pressing your ass against Jungkook’s leaking cock, feeling it throb against your skin.

“Need a condom, hyung,” Jungkook panted, exhaling in satisfaction as his fingers ran over your nipples, earning pleading gasps.

Yoongi reached over to grab one as you reached back, running your hand over Jungkook’s semi-hard length, spreading the pre-cum down the head. Your fingertip touched the slit and he shivered, whining against your neck.

“Noona, don’t…”

You took the condom from Yoongi with your free hand, wrapping your fingers around Jungkook’s cock as he moaned, tugging at your nipples repeatedly. Your hips jerked involuntarily, skin rubbing against the sensitive head, making him groan.

“Need you hard for me.”

You stroked him slowly, not too tight, not too loose, his warm cock throbbing in your hand. You felt one of Jungkook’s hands leave your chest, gripping your hand tightly around his cock. His cock swelled at the sudden stop, pressing against your palm. His lips touched your ear and you shivered at his voice, low and dangerous, almost feral.

“Oh, I’ll be hard,” Jungkook snarled softly. “Impossible not to be hard…” His other hand dropped, snaking down your stomach. You tensed up as he neared closer and closer. Yoongi cleared his throat and your head snapped up to see him tilting his head, observing closely with an amused smirk.

“Jungkook, d-don’t…”

“… In this pussy.”

And you moaned loudly, feeling two of his fingers slip down and spread your pussy lips, engorged clit poking out from your repeated orgasms. Even the small stimulation made you wetter, drenching the inside of your thighs as Yoongi’s hungry eyes watched Jungkook spread you open for him to see.

“Spread your legs for hyung,” Jungkook ordered, nipping at your earlobe.

You whined, opening your thighs and tipping them up for Yoongi to see your glistening, pink pussy lips forced open by Jungkook’s fingers, your walls pulsing with need. Your hand was still around Jungkook’s cock, holding his hardness as you watching Yoongi’s right hand enclose his already stiff length, licking his lips at this dirty display.

“Flick her clit, Jungkook.”

You cried out, hips bucking as Jungkook flicked your clit with his nail, releasing his cock and falling onto your hands, staring into Yoongi’s mischievous, triumphant eyes. The condom fluttered to the bed, dropped by the sudden shock of painful ecstasy.

“P-Please…” Too many orgasms, too much pleasure. It was turning you into a mess, taking over you, leaving you at the mercy of the two men, crawling towards Yoongi, ass up in the air as you went low, looking up at him, pleading him. “Need you in my mouth, Yoongi. Wanna make you feel good.”

Yoongi removed his hand, ticking his chin to Jungkook. “Ask him to shove his dick into you.”

You bit your lip, turning back and wiggling your ass, seeing Jungkook roll the condom down. His eyes on yours, sending shivers down your spine with his intense gaze and naughty smirk.

“Jungkook.” Even his name from your lips seemed to darken his chocolate orbs with lust. “Want your cock to fill me up.”

“That’s too nice,” Yoongi chided.

Your ears burned. But, well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Jungkook, please, please use my pussy to cum, fuck, want you inside me so fucking bad.”

He groaned, sliding up to you, gripping your hips, pressing his fingers into your ass, positioning himself right at your entrance.

“You sound so fucking sexy begging for cock,” he purred. “I just have to give it to you.”

And then he plunged into you, both of you moaning so loudly that the soundproof walls were saving you once again, so wet that your pussy squelched around his thick cock. Ah, he just felt so good, so hard and unforgiving, stretching you out forcefully. You turned back to Yoongi, lowering your head as he spread his legs for you, lifting his shirt as you swallowed his cock, eyelids fluttering as his taste was on your lips once again, invading your mouth, familiar and wonderful. You saw Yoongi moan watching you, cat-like eyes shrouded with lust, biting his lip as you sank down, vibrating his cock with your cries as Jungkook’s length fully entered you, his balls hitting your over-stimulated clit.

So full.

Oh, fuck.

You tried to say Yoongi’s name around his cock, hoping your eyes could tell him what you meant. I missed this so fucking much. His perfect length filling your mouth, smelling so good and so him, burying itself in your throat.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed. “Fuck, you look so fucking beautiful taking two cocks at once.”

Jungkook slid out a little and thrust into you. You whimpered around Yoongi, staring into his eyes, tightening your throat muscles as you opened your lips, tongue unfurling down, down.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Yoongi hissed, tipping his head back as he felt your tongue on his balls, his stiff cock throbbing as you rubbed it against the roof of your mouth, slapping his balls with your tongue at the same time, warm saliva dripping down and coating them. “Yes, fuck, you’re so good at that, fuck, I love you so fucking much, a-ah…”

And now Jungkook was really fucking you, hard, deep thrusts that shoved you repeatedly onto Yoongi’s cock. You had to retreat your head a little to prevent yourself from choking, but you didn’t stop licking Yoongi’s balls, his handsome face painted with pleasure, murmuring your name, praising you. You swiped your tongue from his balls to the tip of his member, teasing the sensitive skin underneath the head expertly before sliding back down. Up and down, stroking him with your tongue. Yoongi groaned, hips rising into your throat. Fuck, you loved seeing his normally serious face completely consumed by lust, loved the way he lost himself to you.

And, oh fuck, you loved the how you felt as your pussy was assaulted by Jungkook’s cock, stretching you out, pressing against your walls, filling you up as you squeezed him back, massaging all of him as he descended.

“Your pussy is so tight,” Jungkook panted. “Fuck, so tight and so wet, I love it so much, I love fucking you noona, you’re just so fucking good at taking cock.”

You withdrew your tongue from Yoongi’s balls, encasing your lips around his length and sucking hard, creating a tight, wet vacuum, Jungkook’s hips slapping against yours adding to your motion. Yoongi gasped, spreading his fingers on the bed, head pressed into the headboard. His dark eyes were half-lidded, watching your ass bounce as Jungkook fucked you onto his cock, forcing you to swallow him at a quick, rough pace.

“Fuck, I knew it would be good,” Yoongi breathed, gaze shifting to you and your eyes looking up at him, witnessing his satisfied expression. “Look at you. So fucking perfect, lips wrapped around my cock, Jungkook’s dick squeezed by your pretty pussy.” It made you wetter, knowing Yoongi was liking this, knowing he was aroused seeing you like this. His hand came up and tucked your hair back, fingertips brushing against your forehead. His touch made you whine, encouraging you to fuck Jungkook back eagerly, ass slapping into his crotch, bobbing your head up and down faster, tighter.

And Yoongi’s eyes on you, telling you everything. I want you, I need you, I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I’ll give you anything I can, because I can’t give you everything.

And Jungkook’s cock was twitching in your pussy, indicating he was close, his husky moans filling up the room as Yoongi’s own breathing shallowed, drinking in every detail, not wanting to miss any moment of you getting fucked so carnally, sinfully full from front to back, whole body shaking from the previous multiple orgasms. You could tell that he wanted you to feel so much pleasure that you were wrecked and it was working, oh, fuck, it was working as pleasure crawled to every fiber of your being, forgetting that your jaw and pussy were aching, forgetting your knees were basically jelly, forgetting you had any other responsibilities in life except making Yoongi and Jungkook cum with your tight, wet holes, so fueled by adrenaline that you rocked your body back and forth, stimulating both at once.

Your eyes locked with Yoongi’s.

Cum for me.

“I’m close,” he murmured. “Tighter. Choke Jungkook’s cock with your perfect pussy.”

You hollowed your cheeks and squeezed your core. You heard Jungkook yelp, fingertips digging into your ass.

“A-ah, c-can’t hold on…” Jungkook rambled, eyes rolling back, gasping for breath. “You’re so lucky, hyung, fuck, so lucky she’s yours.”

Jungkook smacked his hips into you, once, twice, letting out a deep groan as he came, shooting into you, cock throbbing against your walls as his balls slapped your clit, sending you over the edge as you whined around Yoongi’s cock, feeling it jerk in your mouth as he came down your throat, thick, delicious saltiness sliding down, pooling on your tongue, your pussy pulsing in time with Yoongi, drinking him as your pussy shivered around Jungkook’s cock, milking him dry. Your body shuddered hard, trembling from head to toe, the ferocity of your orgasm rattling you, so much so that it felt like the world was spinning. You popped your mouth off of Yoongi’s cock, sliding down against his thigh, wheezing for oxygen.

Yoongi’s hand instantly came up to touch your shoulder, caressing it tenderly. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, hot breath against his skin, knees sliding down, taking Jungkook with you because he also was at the point of exhaustion. Yoongi frowned at you and you gave him a weak thumbs up, cheekily grinning at him, wiping the spit off your chin with his thigh.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you thumbs-up me, woman, tell me you’re not dying.”

You leaned against his thigh, sighing as Jungkook pulled out of you.

“I’m very pleased,” you exhaled happily.

“I’m glad the god is satisfied with her sacrifice,” Yoongi remarked dryly, trying to sound annoyed but his affectionate smile gave him away. You smiled back before turning around, finding Jungkook on his back, chest heaving, hair soaked with sweat. You scooted down to him, brushing ash blond strands away from his face. His eyes were closed, pretty lashes against his skin, cheeks flushed pink with exertion.

“I… I can go…” Jungkook mumbled. “Give you guys some alone time and stuff.”

“Jungkook.”

His opened his eyes, brown orbs shifting to you. Apologetic, kind.

“Do you want this to be more?”

His lips curved into a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No. This is fine.”

“Don’t lie to her,” Yoongi scolded, moving to sit beside you and glare down at him.

Jungkook swallowed, looking away. “I don’t… I don’t want to be a burden, hyung. I don’t want to ruin your relationship.”

“Don’t you think you would have done that already if that was possible?” Yoongi scoffed, placing his hand on yours, rubbing your knuckles.

Jungkook eyes flickered to your joined hands, then to your face.

“R-Really…?”

You exchanged a glance with Yoongi and he poked your forehead, exasperated.

“Have I not maybe yourself clear with you?” Yoongi grumbled grumpily. His eyes shifted down, letting out a long sigh. “I can’t give you everything. I can’t go on dates. I can’t kiss you in public. I can’t even hold your hand or stand near you outside this fucking door.” The frustration was clear in his voice. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him it was okay, but you resisted, letting him get his words out. He turned to Jungkook, his dark brown eyes serious and sad.

“You can’t do that either, you know? It’s lonely. It sucks. You can only have moments like these, behind closed doors.”

Jungkook looked up at him, expression unreadable.

“Then why… why did you share it with me?”

“Because,” Yoongi started, eyes flickering to you. “Because I wanted to make her happy. Because I can’t do everything, but I can do some things. And because Bangtan is everything to me.” Yoongi was mumbling a little, not used to this level of emotion. “If I can maybe make you happy too, Jungkook, why wouldn’t I try?”

You could see Jungkook was also awkward because this was a delicate situation with even more complicated emotions, made more complex that they were two members of the same idol group, almost like brothers in closeness, held to the same rules and the same restrictions. Jungkook blinked rapidly, clearing his watering eyes. He looked away, hastily rubbing them with the back of his hand.

“Will it… Will it be less lonely if I’m with you, hyung, noona?” The younger man swallowed hard, clearing his vision and looking back up at both of you, brown eyes glassy. “Will it… suck less?”

You smiled, nodding slowly. “It would suck a whole lot less.”

Yoongi made a noise of affirmation, scrunching his nose. He was also blinking quite a bit, although he hid it better than Jungkook did.

Jungkook slid his right hand on the sheets, in front of your joined hands. Yoongi’s eyes darted about before he inhaled deeply, picking up your hand and plopping it on Jungkook’s, sandwiching it between the two larger palms. You pressed your fingertips against Jungkook’s knuckles, feeling Yoongi’s reassuring pat on the back of your hand, warmed from above and below.

Yoongi gave you his usual, apprehensive smile, as if he didn’t know what to do with his face when being told to look happy.

Jungkook grinned, bright bunny teeth flashing, eyes and nose scrunching with affection.

You couldn’t resist.

“Is this allowed?” you asked with a wide smirk.

Yoongi laughed, raspy and pretty.

“Definitely not.”

Jungkook sat up a bit, furrowing his brow as if he just remembered something.

“Wait, what about noona’s private Instagram tho–”

-

part iv “That's not allowed! You know what that does to me.“

--

masterpost