#does it count as an au if i am the god of this universe to begin with

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Between the pages

AN: Shoutout to Indigo for violently thrusting me back into my Namjoon feelings. This has been a long time in the making.

Synopsis: If anyone asks, Professor Kim is definitely not crushing on the pretty librarian he spends all of his free time with on campus.

Heads up: Kim Namjoon x Fem! Reader, friends to lovers, so much pining, Non-Idol AU, University professor! Namjoon, Librarian! Reader, Reader wears glasses and Namjoon thinks it's hot, alcohol and alcohol consumption, Reader kisses Namjoon without his explicit consent at first, dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), Reader sucks on Namjoon's fingers post fingering, praise kink (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex and creampie.

Word count: 4535

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

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Namjoon tries to convince himself that the reason a smile immediately graces his face when he enters his department's library is because of his love for knowledge. That's it. That's all.

It definitely has nothing to do with getting the opportunity to see and talk to the very attractive head librarian. Nope. Nothing of the sort.

"What's got you all smiley? Found a new favourite philosophy journal?"

Namjoon studiously ignores the way his heart stutters in his chest. He turns around to face you directly and is once again caught off-guard at how ridiculously attractive you manage to look in a simple pencil skirt and flowy blouse. Your glasses framing your warm eyes, and your glossed lips quirked upwards in amusement.

God, he had it so bad.

"Am I not allowed to simply smile for the sake of smiling?" He asks with a grin of his own, the two of you seamlessly falling into step as you make your way to your office where he was initially headed.

"Answering a question with a question is deflection, Professor Kim," you respond with a good-natured poke to his arm. He jokingly rubs the spot, "Violence and referring to me as Professor Kim? Y/n I thought we were friends. I'm hurt."

He doesn't miss the way you roll your eyes with that unfairly pretty smile on your face as you hold your office door open for him, "I never took you to be one for dramatics, Namjoon."

Namjoon feels little better than a schoolboy with his first crush. Warmth flooding his face at the way you say his name. He just hopes his body wouldn't hate him enough to make his blush obvious or, you'd give him the curtsey of not mentioning it.

"Clearly you don't know me all that well then, Miss y/l/n. Seems like all this hiding out in each others' offices might've been for nothing," he retorts, making himself comfortable on the lounge chair by the window you'd both unofficially agreed upon was his. He tries not to think too deeply about that.

Typically you'd join him by the window, but you opt to prop yourself up on your desk, and Namjoon's tongue turns to sand in his mouth. Your already figure-hugging skirt sits tighter on your hips and thighs somehow, even riding up enough for Namjoon to feel the need to take a generous sip from his trusted water bottle.

"Wow really? My surname? Now you're being petty, Joon," you say before taking your first bite of your lunch.

It had become a habit for the two of you to meet for lunch whenever possible. Usually alternating between offices or whoever was closer to the other's side of the campus on a particular day. Namjoon thinks it's partly during these lunch sessions that the seeds of his feelings for you were planted. Though he hasn't quite decided how to unpack that can of worms yet, he wouldn't trade these moments with you for the world.

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Namjoon can't stand these end of year functions, but he attends because he knows it'd be a terrible look if he didn't. He does have other people in the department he's friendly with, but they definitely don't outweigh how tedious these functions can be.

He's standing somewhat awkwardly in the back of the room nursing a glass of juice (because of fucking course they wouldn't be serving any alcohol) when he first spots you. Namjoon knows you're beautiful. It's a fact that he's violently reminded of every time he sees you. However, he's never seen you like this. He thought your pencil skirts were form-fitting, but the way the red dress you're wearing now cups your ass and hugs your hips has the blood rushing to his dick at record-breaking speed. He's never seen so much of you at once, a hint of cleavage peaking out and the dress coming to a stop mid-thigh. To make it all worse (or better, depending on one's perspective), you're still wearing your glasses.

Namjoon is just happy he hasn't spontaneously combusted yet, honestly.

The bright smile that spreads across your face when you spot him and make your way over to him makes him feel more nervous than he has in ages. Which is saying something considering how tongue-tied he gets around you in general.

"Joon, thank god. I'm so happy you're here. These functions are always so boring," you say as you pull him into a hug. Instinctively, he wraps an arm around you, his body moving before his brain can fully process you pressed against him and your perfume invading his senses. God, you smell delicious.

"I'm glad to see you too. Yeah, I've been entertaining myself with a glass of juice for the past 30ish minutes. Having the time of my life," he responds sarcastically but makes sure he's not loud enough for anyone to hear him other than you. These functions may suck, but Namjoon has no desire to sour his relationships with his colleagues.

The mischievous smile that graces your face makes his palms sweat, "Want to get out of here? I have a bottle of wine I've been saving in my office."

"Wine in your office? That's pretty unprofessional of you, Miss Librarian," he responds with a grin.

"Well, I've been keeping it for a time like this. Unless you're content to sip on juice all night and make small talk about semester plans," you retort, mirth twinkling in your eyes.

"It has been almost 2 hours, so it wouldn't be a bad look if we excused ourselves now..." he reasons, and honestly he could use a drink right now.

"Glad to see you're on board. You're always so serious and responsible, I'm a little surprised you agreed," you say with a small snort, grabbing his arm and steering him towards the door.

You two say goodnight to everyone who crosses your path, and Namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes at the grins and thumbs ups that Hoseok and Seokjin give him.

"I'm not that uptight," he argues a little defensively when you two are finally by yourselves.

"There's nothing wrong with being responsible. It's a big reason why I think you're such a loved and respected professor. I just think you could stand to let go sometimes," you say and, Namjoon's heart is trying its best to beat out of his chest.

You think he's loved and respected? You think he's a good professor?

He knows he doesn't need your validation, but it means the world to him all the same. The genuine sincerity and concern in your voice making it challenging for him to find his words.

"I plan to let go a little tonight. I think you're a bad influence," he jokes, playfully shoving you with his arm.

"I'm a fantastic influence. That's why you spend so much time with me," you retort with another one of those cute, amused snorts. Unlocking the door to the library when you two arrive quicker than Namjoon expected.

"I spend so much time with you because Hoseok's unending optimism and positivity drains my energy," he fires back, closing the door behind him once you enter the library before him.

"Hoseok's a sweetheart. You're just grumpy and overly jaded," you respond, leading the way to your office.

He tries not to feel too jealous hearing you refer to Hoseok as a sweetheart. You're not wrong. It's fair to refer to him as such, but it's still not exactly pleasant to hear.

"Me? Grumpy? Overly jaded? I'm delightful!" He says in mock offence, settling himself in his chair and watching you pull out the bottle of wine and two coffee mugs. Biting back a groan when he takes in how amazingly your dress hugs your ass.

"I never said you weren't delightful. I wouldn't be offering my treasured wine stash to you if I didn't at the bare minimum like you," you argue with a light laugh as you fill up your respective mugs.

"You just used the wine to bribe me to sneak out with you. I'm flattered nonetheless," he says with a laugh of his own, graciously accepting the generously filled mug you offer. He's severely unprepared for you to take a seat on the arm of his chair, your thigh brushing against him as you get comfortable.

Namjoon is starting to think this isn't a smart idea after all.

"Have you spending time with Seokjin? Is that why you've been so theatrical lately?" You ask with a smile before taking a generous sip from your mug, your pleased hum affecting him more than it had any right to.

"I'm just seeing this for what it is," he says, taking a swing from his own mug. Sweet. Seems like you enjoy your rosé. He makes a note of that for any future gifts.

"Sure, Joon," you respond, patting his shoulder. Taking another sip from your glass, licking your lips to chase the remnants of the wine. The wine is only worsening the hazy sensation he feels seeing the action and the slight smudging of your lipstick.

"Your lipstick looks nice," he spits out and immediately cringes at himself. Resisting the urge to rest his face in his hands as warmth floods his face. What the fuck was wrong with him? Surely it wasn't the singular sip of wine he took.

"Oh," you say, sounding surprised, "Thank you. You know I'm not one for make-up, but I thought why not since it's a special occasion. I'm glad you like it. I didn't take you for one to notice," you finish, playfully nudging his arm with your thigh.

Namjoon takes a generous sip of his wine before responding.

"I always notice these kinds of things when it comes to you and, you look pretty," he says before panicking at the implications of his words, "Not that you don't look pretty without the lipstick. You look pretty all the time. It's just-"

"I got it, Joon," you laugh, taking a drink from your own mug, and Namjoon definitely doesn't notice how appealing your neck looks. He needs to get his shit together. He's too old to be this flustered talking to a pretty woman. Well, you're more than just that, but that's besides the point.

"I'm flattered that you think I'm pretty. I didn't know you thought of me that way," you say so quietly that Namjoon has to strain to hear you. You look almost...shy? Completely unlike the sarcastic, confident woman he's become familiar with. It's cute. You're cute.

"I think you're beautiful honestly but, it's not exactly like I can just drop it in casual conversation," he says, surprised by his own confidence but, he's already called you pretty. What more does he have to lose?

"Kim Namjoon, are you flirting with me?" You ask with a smile behind your mug, but he can still see what he thinks is shyness in your expression.

"Is it so bad to flirt with the prettiest librarian on campus?" He asks, taking satisfaction in the stunned look on your face, your lips parting as you sit there just staring at him.

He watches you flounder with your words, a very private part of him enjoying being the one to fluster you for once.

"You think I'm the prettiest librarian on campus?" You ask quietly, as if you can't quite believe what's he saying to you right now. In your defence, he can't quite believe what he's saying to you right now either. He has the feeling that he's reached a crossroads now. Whatever he says to you now might change the nature of your relationship entirely, and Namjoon is tired of being a coward.

"I think you're the prettiest librarian I've ever met," he says with so much seriousness that there's no possible way you could misunderstand his words for lighthearted bantering. His heart bouncing off the walls of his chest as he waits for you to say something. Anything.

"Namjoon," is all you seem to muster at the moment, wide eyes still locked on him.

"You don't have to reciprocate my feelings, y/n. I've liked you for some time now, but I'd never put my feelings before yours and before this friendship. You mean too much for me to do that. I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable -" you promptly shut Namjoon up by cupping his face and pressing a searing kiss to his lips.

Well, it seems like it's his turn to be stunned.

His eyes widen as you seemingly pour everything you have into his kiss, your hold on his face tightening momentarily before you pull away. All Namjoon can do is stare at you. Looking unfairly attractive as you struggle to catch your breath and your glasses look slightly askew.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just kissed you. I just-I couldn't find the words to tell you that I like you too in the moment. I'm sorry," you say in a single breath, and Namjoon has to strain to catch all of your words. However, panic hits him when your words do finally register.

"No, hey, it's okay. I was just surprised, is all. It's not every day the woman of your dreams kisses you. Give a guy a minute to recover," he jokes, reaching for your smaller hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Your hand squeezes his back, and frankly, Namjoon is just impressed that he's managed to remain conscious through this all.

"Woman of your dreams? Namjoon, please," you whine somewhat embarrassed, and that just endears you to him more.

"It's true," he says and means ever word of it.

"If you keep looking at me like that and speaking like that, I might just have to kiss you again," you respond playfully, resting your mug on the small coffee table.

"Is that a promise?" He fires back with a grin of his own, following suit.

"You're so annoying," you retort with an affectionate eye roll before you press your lips against his once more. This time, he's better prepared and more than ready to reciprocate. One of his hands tentatively resting on your thigh as angle yourself better to deepen the kiss. The feeling of your tongue against his own sending sparks down his spine. Arousal pooling in his gut, fed by all the little moans and whimpers you let out.

"Is this okay?" You ask breathlessly when you straddle him, your chair barely big enough to fit the two of you, but Namjoon isn't going to complain any time soon. Your soft thighs press against his and he's almost completely certain that your panty covered pussy is pressing against him.

"Yeah," his brain pulls itself together enough to spit out before weaving his fingers into your hair and, tugging you down for another earth-shattering kiss. Months' worth of desire and frustration pouring out of him. His other hand tentatively holding your hip in place all while he hopes his erection isn't too obvious to you.

He can tell the moment you feel it because you still against him momentarily. "Shit, I'm sorry. We don't have to do anything you don't want. It's just a natural reaction-"

"Joon, breathe. It's okay," you giggle, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I want this. I'm just as excited as you are," you breathe, taking his much bigger hand in yours and guiding it up your ridiculously soft thighs. A quiet moan falling from your lips when his fingertips make contact with your wet panties.

Namjoon wonders what heroic acts he committed in his past lives to find himself here.

"You're already so wet," he breathes, fingers lightly running along your slit. Lidded eyes taking in the way your lips part to let out moans and your hips buck into his touch. Your fingernails digging into his shoulder when he's certain he's found your clit and uses that information to his advantage.

"You don't have to ah say that out loud, y'know," you respond, but any sarcasm that would typically be present in your voice is replaced by breathy whimpers. Namjoon thinks he much prefers them. As much as your quick-wit is one of his favourite aspects of your personality, he's finding that he immensely enjoys rendering you speechless.

"Why not, baby? You are so wet for me already, though. I could always stop," he trails off, stopping the movement of his fingers and keeping them pressed against you. A smirk spreading across his face when you whine and squirm in his lap.

"You're being mean," and fuck if the desperate edge to your voice doesn't shoot straight to his dick. Deciding to be merciful this time around, his fingers continue rubbing over your wet slit over your panties. Kissing along your jaw and neck as you whimper and grind against him in search of friction.

"Joon, please. Touch me di-directly," you hiccup, pressing yourself firmly against his fingers. Your nails digging into his shoulders. He had no idea you'd be so needy and desperate. He briefly wonders if you're always like this or if this is all because of him. His self-esteem certainly hopes it's the latter.

"You're so cute when you're needy," he rumbles against your throat, canines brushing the skin there while his fingers push your panties to the side. He thinks he'll remember the strangled gasp that flies from your lips when his fingers make contact with your clit as long as he lives.

He knew you were wet before, but he's severely unprepared for the effect feeling said wetness for himself has on him. His cock already leaking pre-cum where it rests untouched underneath you. Teasing you is a double-edged sword. You're not the only one becoming desperate here.

"Namjoon," you whine, "Please, please let me feel your fingers. It hurts. Please-" your begging is cut off by a sharp moan when he finally concedes and pushes two fingers inside of you. How can he say no when you sound so beautiful for him? He's just a man.

He tugs you into another messy kiss while he fucks you on his fingers to distract himself. He feels like he'll lose his mind soon if he doesn't feel you around his cock soon. Groaning into your mouth at how harshly your velvety walls grip his fingers as he familiarises himself with the spots that make you moan louder and hold onto him tighter.

The whimper you press against his lips when his thumb finds your clit and rubs slow circles against it is immaculate. In the dead of night when he'd fantasised about having you like this, he hadn't considered how sensitive and pliant you are. Reality is significantly better than any of his dreams.

"Joo-Joon, I- ah I'm," you whine out, your glasses slightly skewed and foggy on your face while you ride his fingers and chase your release. Namjoon doesn't think he's seen anything more erotic in his entire life.

"Are you going to cum for me?" The gruff edge to his voice or perhaps the question seems to do it for you because before he knows it you're holding onto to him for dear life and he has to slot his mouth over yours to silence your suddenly sharp cries. His cock pulsing as he feels your walls hold onto his fingers so tightly that he can barely move them anymore and, your wetness drips down his palm.

"That's a good girl. You did so well for me," he says, kissing your neck and shoulder softly as he waits for you to come back to him. He takes notice of the way your walls momentarily clench from what he assumes is the praise. Well. He'd happily give you all the praise you wanted.

"You're ridiculously good with your fingers," you mutter, cupping his face and kissing him as though you have all the time in the world. Something dangerously close to love for you swells in him from the affection you pour into the kiss. You rest your forehead against his when you pull away, a small smile playing on your bruised lips.

"Thank you," is all his brain can come with right now with his fingers still nestled inside of you and being harder than he ever has been in his entire life.

"Would it be okay if I sucked you off?"

You're trying to kill him. This is what this is. An elaborate plot to end his life in an instant.

His cock very much likes the sound of that, however.

"You don't have to do that,"

"I know. I want to,"

He closes his eyes and tries to gain his bearings for a few seconds.

"Maybe next time. I don't want to cum in your mouth right now,"

The pout on your lips is surprising and unfairly attractive, "Why not?"

You really were going to make him spell it out for you, aren't you?

"I'd rather cum while I'm inside of you,"

His jaw clenches when he feels your walls clamp down on his fingers once more, a barely there whimper falling from your lips, "Kim Namjoon, you're going to be the death of me."

Funny you should say that because the feeling is mutual.

He does laugh at that. Pressing a kiss against your cheek, "And you think I'm dramatic. We can just stop here if you don't want to. Plus, I don't have any condoms on hand. I wasn't exactly...anticipating all of this."

"What in the world would make you think I'd want to stop now?" You ask, sounding genuinely baffled, "And on the topic of birth control, I'm on the pill."

His eyes close then, and he can't bite back a groan. You would really let him fuck you raw? He's not sure if you're insane for suggesting it or if he's insane for seriously considering it.

"If you're not comfortable with that we can just stop here. I'm not in a rush," you reassure him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple and it's then that Namjoon thinks he may lose his mind if he doesn't have you right now.

Without a word, he pulls you into another earth titling kiss, grinning against your mouth when you grip his fingers like a vice when he tugs on your hair and nips your lip. "You really don't know what you do to me," he breathes, easing his fingers out of you and chuckling darkly at the way you whimper from the loss. He might be pushing his luck here, but "Open."

He watches through lidded eyes as you eagerly suck on his fingers coated in your wetness. Your lashes fluttering behind your glasses and, your soaked slit grinding down on him in search of some sort of friction. "Such a good girl," he praises, kissing you while his hands fumble with his belt and the buttons of his pants. Relief coursing through him when manages to finally free himself. His cock slapping against his shirt covered stomach unceremoniously.

Your reaction to seeing him does fantastic things for his ego.

"You're...bigger than I anticipated," you breathe out, your eyes laser focused on his dick while your hands absentmindedly tug on his hair. "You thought about my dick? I'm flattered," he says with a smirk likely a touch too smug but, he can't help it. It's not every day the woman of your dreams casually mentions that she's fantasised about you and you have her spread out across your lap.

"I've thought about more than your dick but, it's featured in a fantasy or two," you laugh breathlessly, squirming in his lap.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you waiting any longer then,"

When you slowly start to sink down on him, Namjoon knows he's a goner. His hands grip your soft hips for dear life as your warm, wet walls gradually accommodate him inch by inch. He's not sure where he wants to look more. Your pretty pussy stretching around him or the blissed out look on your beautiful face right now.

His hand impatiently tugs your dress down and he takes a hard nipple in his mouth both to distract you from the discomfort and, for the simple want to. His head spins when your pussy clenches around him at the contact. Needy hands tugging on his hair while you moan from the sensations.

"Nam-Namjoon," you moan out so brokenly and, he's pretty sure he's never heard a more beautiful sound. He might be inlove with you actually but, he shoves that thought aside as soon as it arises.

He grits his teeth when you slowly rise up and sink back down on him again, your nails biting into him as you try your best to establish a steady rhythm. "You're so beautiful," he groans as he watches you bounce on his cock. He  didn't intend for that thought to slip out but, he doesn't regret in the slightest when he watches your eyelids flutter and your pussy tightens around him.

You can't even coherently respond to him. Too lost in your own pleasure and the feeling of his cock to string together a sentence at the moment. Not that Namjoon can really blame you. Your walls are like a vice around him, and he feels his release approaching dangerously quickly. There's no way he's going to cum without atleast getting you to cum for him one more time.

One of his hands tugs on your hair to pull you down for another heated kiss. All teeth and tongue and spit. While the other reaches between your thighs, the corners of his mouth ticking up when you gasp against him as his fingers draw quick circles on your clit. Thankfully, he's a fast learner.

He nearly bites down on your lip when you cum. Velvety walls clenching and spasming around him while you cling onto him for purchase. I mean, is it really a shock that it doesn't take much more than that for him to follow suit?

Groans and stuttered curses leaving his lips when pulses inside of you. The symphony of your sounds of pleasure and heavy breathing all that can be heard as he fills you. Holding you to him while he rides out his intense release. He doesn't think he's ever cum this hard in his entire life. Guess that's what happens when you cum inside the love of your life.

Pushing that insane thought aside once more, he loosens his hold on you when he regains feeling in his body. The sticky combination of your releases dribbling out of you and down his groin but, he can't bring himself to care at the moment.

"Usually, people go on dates first, no?" You ask still sounding breathlessly but, he can hear the smile in your tone.

"Mmm yeah, usually they do but, I don't think there's anything wrong with doing things a little out of order,"

"You're not wrong. I hope you know this is my roundabout way of asking you out,"

The laugh that forces itself out of him is hearty and more carefree than he's felt in a concerningly long time.

"I'd love to go out with you, y/n."

[pipnchips202]

while i eat up practically every valgrace fic i see, down bad jason grace for leo valdez is always one of my absolute favorites; so, here are 5 valgrace fics where jason is the pining one :)) (for the most part)

1. hopeless case by restinreeses

rating: teen and up

warnings: none

“Nico,” Jason wheezes as he slams the door to the Hades cabin open. “Nico, I think I’m in love with my best friend.”

“No, really?” Nico drawls, barely looking up from his book.

Or: in which nico is jason’s wingman this time around.

AHHHHH!!!!!! this is REALLY good; i love the characterization and the many implications of jason having helped nico get with will prior to the events of the fic. also, platonic jasico will ALWAYS get me.

2. EP: things leo does; by jason grace by jacksonpercy (robertmontauk)

rating: not rated

warnings: none

God, he loves Leo’s laugh. It’s more like a giggle than anything - all high-pitched and bubbly; his mouth stretches into the widest smile Jason’s ever seen, and his tongue sticks out of his tongue just a little bit, and holy fuck Jason’s in love with Leo.

Shit.

[leo does things sometimes, and jason notices.]

i was very much obsessed with this fic at some point (still kind of am, actually). it’s basically a 5 + 1 of jason just pining for leo and i LOVE it. small warning though, there is a mention of kinks in the second chapter, if that’s weird for you. it’s really just an offhand comment and doesn’t get brought up again, so do with that what you will. they are teenagers after all, and as a teenager myself, i can confirm i’ve thought of similar stuff several times! but, anyway, this fic is really good.

3. staring at me (with your lips and tongue) by ethannku

rating: teen and up

warnings: none

“You really believe all that?” Leo asks, and if Jason were more aware of the world, he might’ve registered the hopeful breathiness in his voice. But as it is, he’s far too focused on the hand on his chest. He nods anyway, once he realizes Leo’s asked him a question.

Leo huffs and leans closer while simultaneously pulling Jason closer.

For a moment, they just look at each other, their noses inches apart. Leo’s breath comes in soft puffs on his face. There’s a hint of a smile on Leo’s face, but the corners waver as if he’s having second thoughts. Jason registers Leo’s eyelashes flickering, and his blood sings when he realizes he’s looking at Jason’s mouth.

Or; Jason is down bad, and Leo might be too.

this one’s really good, too. lot of kissing. a few suggestive references/jokes but no suggestive actions, just kissing. also has many piper moments mixed in :)

4. Crooked Glasses by thebigqueer

rating: teen and up

warnings: graphic depictions of violence

leo & jason confess their feelings for each other in an arcane-themed alternate universe.

~~

Leo has always been flirty. When he casually smirks at Jason and tells him how handsome he looks; when he bites his lip suggestively and tells Jason that no, he doesn’t mind if he changes his shirt in front of him; when Jason asks what’s for dinner and Leo responds, “Not sure, but I know you’re the desert,” Jason doesn’t make much of it. Sure, an occasional blush and an attempt at jokingly flirting back, but Jason knows he doesn’t mean it. Besides, he isn’t special. If Jason had to count the amount of people Leo had made out with just in the past year, it might take both his hands.

But lately it’s been different. There’s a softness in Leo’s eyes when he catches sight of Jason, a more soulful smirk when he offers that they sleep in the same bed, a hopefulness when he asks Jason if he wants to come with him on his next haul.

i’m gonna be honest: although i plan to someday, i’ve never seen arcane. and this is an arcane au. however, even though i know absolutely nothing about arcane, i did understand this, i think. i’m putting it here because a) it’s well written, b) it does in fact feature pining jason grace, and c) i have very limited options when it comes to valgrace fics anyway, so i don’t have much of a choice. yes, there is action and a mild fight with sherman yang and connor stoll, but it’s not that graphic in my opinion, but that’s just me; what’s more graphic is actually the gratuitous descriptions of leo’s gorgeousness from jason’s pov (understandably so). anyway, this is a good fic; if you’re not familiar with arcane, you can probably still read it, because i enjoyed it quite a lot!

5. hold me, thrill me, kiss me by restinreeses

rating: teen and up

warnings: none

“You love me,” Leo declares, his smirk widening with every passing second. “You, the great Jason Grace, love me.”

He fumbles for his words, but they melt in his mouth as Leo's hands snaked up the small of his back – those delicate fingers tracing patterns into his skin that burnt worse than his SPQR tattoo.

“I wouldn’t call myself great,” he mutters at last. Leo leans in, raising one thick eyebrow.

“I dunno,” he says, “I’d say you’re pretty great.” His lips brush over Jason's, once, twice. “You know. For loving me.”

...

In which Jason falls and Leo catches him.

okay, so i was debating whether or not to put this one because jason is still dating piper during this fic. she doesn’t make an appearance, she’s only mentioned, but jason and leo kissing is referred to by the both of them as an affair, which might make some uncomfortable. however, this has absolutely gorgeous writing. is jason still in love with piper during this fic, though? no. a bit complicated. however, it is, once again, pining jason as promised. they kiss a lot in this one, too.

enjoy!

— piper <33

[delirium1217]

Gold Rush, Red Flush

720 word count Regulus tells James what he thought about him during their school years. [Post war AU/established relationship]

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“Do you think,” James busies himself, worrying the blue fabric of Regulus’ sweater. They’re sprawled out on the living room couch, it’s late afternoon. They had nowhere else to be. “Do you think in another universe, we could’ve realized this earlier?” “What, like when we were kids?” Regulus frowns. He’s looking down at James’ fingers, like they’re something worth staring at. “Well, yeah, I suppose.” “I-uhm, well.” Regulus turns his head away towards the window. The light catches the crown of his hair - unruly waves grown too long. “What, is it that difficult to imagine?” “No. Quite the opposite.”

That makes James pause. “Reg, did you- is this something you thought about before?” He stays silent. James is subsequently intrigued. He laughs. “You have! You have! Don’t tell me - on the quidditch pitch?” James is entertained by that little scenario for a little bit more than what is appropriate. Regulus glances back at him. The intensity of his stare. This wasn’t- it was real. “Oh.” James simply says. “Yeah.” Regulus replies, soft. He’s close. So close. Did James know how fragile this was? “What, since…the beginning?” “No, I’m not that pathetic.” Regulus almost smirks, but no, his expression was still twisted. “When, then?” James swallows. His heart in his throat. “Probably when I was fifteen.” His face is resting on his right hand. His eyes search James’ face - what was he looking for? “God, I despised you for the longest time. I thought you were the driving force behind everything wrong in my life.” “Strong start,” He laughs lightly. James is afraid of this conversation. This is - it’s heavy. He could feel it settling on his chest. Drowning him. “Yeah, well, you weren’t. I wish it was that simple.” Regulus whispered. He was floating again. “All that hate fizzled into something that pestered me every day till I got myself to look at it.” “So, what did you find?” he finds himself whispering too. “You.” They both pause, startled brown meeting grey. James thinks could live in this moment. Burrow himself deeper and deeper till the stale air of a lazy Saturday is what sustains him. Fragile. “I-it’s- I think I-um,“ “Oh god, I’ve broken you.” “No, no. It’s just. I never thought about you like th- I mean, you were my best friend’s-“ “James, it’s fine. I know I was being delusional,” “Hey, I didn’t say that.” He paused, he needed to get this right. “Did I notice you? Of course I did, you were gorgeous- are, I mean. I just, you always looked like you were two seconds away from killing me,” He groaned. This was a disaster. “I was, for the longest time,” Regulus’ voice has dropped down to a whisper again. His hands touch James’ hair. Barely there. “Then I realized I just wanted to touch you,” He does, lowering his hand and eyes to his lips. His fingers just grazing them. James’ breath hitches. This was impossible. “So, where do we meet?” “What?” “In that universe. I bet you’ve given this some thought,” he can’t help doing this, he slips into this role so easily- as easy as breathing. “I am not entertaining this, James.” He’s smiling, a small little thing. “Okay, then I will. I think, we meet every Sunday after Quidditch practice.” He looks into Regulus’ face. He really could see it, disheveled and sweaty and frustrated after practice. Crashing into James in ways neither of them understood. “The locker rooms are usually abandoned. Everyone would assume we were each doing individual drills, or something. Maybe fifth year - Merlin, I was so frustrated at you. For so many things, the least of which had to with Gryffindor lagging behind.” He’s saying too much, this was too much. “I- that year, I thought so many times about walking up to you. I always wondered.” Regulus says. It rests between them, uneasy. The what if-s. The space between love and hate. The emotion that spills out of him catches him off guard. Regulus is still close. His eyes look more alive than ever. Alight with all that could’ve been. “And then what?” James whispers. “And then we wreck it all to pieces.” Regulus whispers back. James almost gasps. “Is that what we’re always meant to do?” “Maybe.” “How about this universe?” “I’m still deciding.”

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originally published on Ao3. Part of a larger work but I thought it worked quite well on its own!

[lmskitty]

It's time for another fic rec babyyyy!!!!!

Good LORD we are blessed in this fandom. Here are a bunch of incredible writers and fics that I devoured recently and loved every second of. No joke a bunch of these made me properly cry, they are incredible pieces of work and everyone should read them!!

Starting with Honesty Corner by @duckiemimi

College AU satosugu with pizza delivery guy Geto and Utahime/Shoko in the background!!! My fave thing about this was Utahime and Gojo's friendship and the Hasaba twins. The smut is perfection, the characters are so on point and the story just reads beautifully!

I'm gonna cheat and include three works by my beloved @thequeenofsarcaasm all should bow down to her. This counts as 1 because it's in the same AU of hers but god damn I love the way she writes so MUCH. The way the Queen writes love and the way satosugu talk to each other is so spot on for an established couple and it made me so happy because it reminded me exactly of the dumb shit I say to my husband. I'm a sucker for married besties I can't help it 😭. It's just wholesome loveliness. I shouldn't pick faves also but Tsumiki I love you and you deserve the whole universe.

Satosugu family AU. The boys do their best to become good dads and learn and teach their kids as they go along. It hit me so hard as a parent and I loved every moment!

Milestones

Sex Education

Conversations I wish I had with my parents (this was a gift to me and I died on impact I am a ghost now)

Satisfied by rosegoldyoonseok - BDSM Satosugu incredibleness. Just wow. Suguru Geto brat tamer in action. It's too much. I re-read it like every week. I adore it. If you ever catch me staring into the distance I'm thinking about the car scene in this fic.

To feel is to Love by @cj-ackerman17 this one made me SOB. It's so full of love and warmth and god. It's just wonderful.

In another universe, instead of his eyes being the most powerful asset, Satoru is blind. Because of this, he’s mostly alone, unable to be the star child his high-ranking parents wanted him to be.

It’s Suguru Geto that makes him believe he deserves to be loved, and that he is seen. Suguru learns that to feel, is to love.

If you want to read like the greatest love story ever read this fic. It's one of the most romantic things I've read in a long time and the depth into the characters past is incredible. It even made me like Toji. It's that powerful.

@justrustandstardust, the Queen of satosugu comedy is at it again.

5 Times Gojo Satoru Tries to Rizz Up Geto Suguru and 1 Time He (Kind Of) Succeeds

is amazing but now we have a sequel!!!!!

5 Times Gojo Satoru Tries to Bag Geto Suguru and 1 Time He Gets Bagged Himself

Already I'm obsessed. Hotdogumi. Someone call child protection for this boy please. If you want a good time I can literally recommend ALL of their work. @justrustandstardust does comedy SO well. It's perfect.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Untitled Buck/Tommy angst

For @kinardevan 'cause they sent out a general request for angst and I like hurting people with my words...er...I mean, writing angst is fun!

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Werewolf!AU

CW: could be read as MCD, though the ending is ambiguous and we all know the 118 pulls off miracles all the time. Soooo, interpret as you choose.

t wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

The thought echoed uselessly in his head, circling and circling. Like if he just thought it hard enough, God or the universe or something would hear him, and agree. And this would not be happening. Not like this. Not like this.

He checked his phone for the hundredth, the thousandth, the millionth time, still cursing to himself when a signal had not magically appeared. Closing his eyes, he hit the call button on his radio, opening the channel.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Firefighter Kinard, 217. I am trapped on the south side of the Stewart Street building collapse, at least at the sub-basement level. Firefighter Buckley, 118, is with me with severe injuries. Need immediate medevac. Does anyone copy? Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Firefighter Kinard, 217, does anyone copy?”

Static.

Nothing but static.

“They're not–gonna hear you. Gotta be…forty…feet of debris…signal won't get through.”

Carefully, so, so carefully, Tommy shuffled closer to the figure sprawled inelegantly in a half-sitting position against a slab of what used to be part of a subterranean parking garage ceiling. Evan's head came to rest on his shoulder, and he pressed his lips against his boyfriend's bloodied forehead. His skin was icy cold, pale as a ghost in the dim glow of their emergency lights.

As far as he could tell, Evan had escaped any spinal injuries or broken bones. But none of that mattered. Not when there was six inches of twisted, jagged steel protruding from his boyfriend’s abdomen.

He couldn’t even tell what it had been originally–a support beam, or part of the internal structure of the wall…it didn’t matter. Evan had landed on it or been impaled in the fall, despite Tommy’s best efforts, and even if help arrived soon...

He shut that thought off before it could come to its conclusion.

He’d stabilized the piece of steel as best he could, ripping his undershirt into shreds to pack the wound in a desperate effort to keep Evan from bleeding out before they were found. People were coming for them. Even if everyone else gave up on them as a lost cause, Tommy knew the 118 wouldn’t abandon Evan. Wouldn’t abandon him, either. They were coming, he just had to keep Evan alive until then. He just had to keep Evan alive.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

“How you holding up?” he asked, ignoring Evan's–very, very correct–assessment of the likelihood his radio signal was going through. He pressed two fingers beneath Evan's chin, finding his pulse and counting the fast, thready beats silently.

“Been…better,” Evan mumbled. “Finally get to work…together on the ground…and it ends like…this.”

“Probably should’ve expected something to go wrong,” Tommy said, aiming for humor and missing by about three nautical miles. “But hey, now you and Chim can have matching rebar scars.”

“Matching…parking garage stories…w’th Hen too,” Evan replied, his head growing heavier against Tommy's shoulder, his eyes fluttering alarmingly.

“No,” Tommy said firmly, shifting his hand to cup his boyfriend's cheek. “No, none of that. You know the drill, babe. Stay awake.”

“Trying,” Evan whispered, pushing into Tommy's touch like he always did. “What…’bout you? How bad…are you hurt?”

Evan had already asked him that. A couple times, now. Swallowing down the panic that was trying to claw its way through the iron control he'd developed long before he was a soldier or a first responder, he answered anyway.

“I'm fine. Bumps and bruises. I’ll be fine, I'm just worried about you.”

“Liar,” Evan sighed, reaching up weakly to tangle their fingers together.

Tommy was not lying, was the thing. Not technically. He had felt something shatter inside when the floor he and Evan had been trying to clear collapsed beneath them, plunging them two or three sublevels into the basement parking amid a hale of debris. Several somethings, actually. He’d had no time to try and categorize his injuries, too busy frantically wrapping himself around Evan, trying to cushion his fall, trying to protect him, to take as much of the damage as he could.

Evan was strong. Evan was tough. But Evan was so painfully, perfectly human. He couldn’t take the damage Tommy could.

He’d broken and splintered and shattered on the way down, had slammed his head hard enough upon the final impact that even with his helmet, even with all the strength his nature afforded, he’d lost consciousness. He had no idea how long he was down, but it couldn’t have been very long–he’d had bones still knitting back together when he woke up, cuts and lacerations on his exposed skin that hadn’t quite closed.

He’d have taken worse–a hundred, a thousand, a million times worse–as long as Evan was all right.

He’d done his best. He’d done his fucking best.

“How’s the pain?” he asked, resisting the urge to check his phone for a non-existent signal again. Evan swallowed roughly, his fingers twitching in Tommy’s grasp. “Evan?”

“Kinda…fading,” Evan admitted after a long moment, his voice so quiet that even with his enhanced senses, Tommy could barely hear him.

Tommy’s stomach dropped, though he didn’t let any of his fear show on his face. He didn’t need to–he and Evan both knew what it meant when a wound this bad stopped hurting. “Okay. Okay, sweetheart, you just hang on. Hang on for me, okay?”

Evan tried to smile at him, a small dribble of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. It was all Tommy could do not to start howling, his other self clawing, lunging, demanding to be let out, to so something.

To do the only thing that might keep Evan here, keep Evan with him…keep Evan alive.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

His mother had always warned him to be honest with his partners. The instant he started thinking he could see a future with them, it was best to be honest. To reveal himself for what he was and let them decide if it was too much.

He’d known he wanted to share his other self with Evan only a few months in. Wanted to share everything with Evan, for as long as Evan would let him. He’d been startled by the intensity of his wanting, the strength of it. He’d had partners he considered telling his secret to, before. Had actually gone through with it, once.

Only once. The relationship hadn’t survived the reveal.

Maybe that was why he’d been holding back, even as Evan became more and more entrenched in his life, in his heart. He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted Evan. Never loved anyone the way he loved Evan. He didn’t think he could bear it if he revealed his other self, and those beautiful, beautiful blue eyes filled with fear. If the same words that had poured out of Maddox’s mouth left Evan’s lips.

And yet, he’d known he would have to do it. They were moving in together next month, as soon as Evan’s lease ended. Evan had given him everything, offered up every part of himself with no shame, no inhibition, no regrets. He wanted forever with this man. He wanted it so badly it was like a permanent ache in his heart. But how could he ask for forever when he hadn’t given Evan everything, every part of himself in return?

He’d resolved to tell Evan everything. He’d just been waiting for the right time, waiting for their schedules to line up for some time off so Evan would have time to process, waiting, waiting, waiting.

He’d waited too long.

He hit his radio call switch again, gently wrapping his arm around Evan’s shoulders. “Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Firefighter Kinard, 217, does anyone copy? I am in need of immediate medevac for an impalement injury on the south side of the Stewart Street building collapse. Does anyone fucking copy?”

Static.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

“Gonna be…hours, babe,” Evan said, his voice breathy and hoarse now, another dribble of blood leaking from his lips. “Even if they’re…already digging.”

He was right.

The truth Tommy had been refusing to acknowledge smacked him full in the face, damn near stealing his breath, ice blooming up and down his spine. Even if, even if rescue operations were already in full swing, even if the 118 had any idea they were still alive, even if they’d pinpointed their location and were going full tilt trying to dig them out…it would be hours before help got here.

Evan didn’t have hours.

“Love you,” his boyfriend–his partner, his lover, his fucking everything--murmured, his grip on Tommy’s hand growing weaker. “Never…thought I’d…get this.”

“Shut up,” Tommy said, a growl slipping into his voice as his other self railed against the weakness in Evan’s voice. “Don’t you fucking dare start saying goodbye to me.”

Infuriatingly, Evan just tipped his head forward, resting in the crook of Tommy’s neck with a barely-there smile. “Tommy. I’ve got…like a foot of steel…through my guts and it doesn’t hurt. Just…keep holding…me.”

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

Tommy was supposed to ease his boyfriend into it…into the idea that there were other people than humans in the world, that there was a whole world out there that Evan had never seen or interacted with. It was supposed to be slow and gentle, giving Evan plenty of time to process, to consider. And then…and then later…later, when they were sure they both wanted the same things, wanted the future that Tommy craved so badly…when Evan had had time to really think about it. To get to know Tommy’s other self, to become comfortable with it. To decide for himself if he wanted to step into this other world with Tommy. Become a part of it. Become like Tommy.

In his deepest, most private dreams and fantasies, he imagined them going away together somewhere–the mountains maybe, or the beach–where they could have privacy for a few days. He imagined candlelight and roses and music, every romantic cliche he could fathom. Imagined making love slow and sweet, worshiping Evan’s body before tenderly taking his wrist in hand. He’d change just a bit, let his other self out enough for his eyes to glow a rich gold and his teeth to lengthen to fangs. In his dreams, Evan’s breath always caught, his scent growing richer with lust and desire, loving every part of Tommy just the way Tommy loved every part of him. He’d stare into the eyes of the man he loved as he bit down, kiss the bloodied bite apologetically as Evan gasped and shuddered, hold him tightly as the change worked through his body, as Evan’s other self was born out of their love.

It was not supposed to happen like this.

“Evan…do you trust me?” he asked, a leaden sort of dread settling in his gut. This–this was unfair. It was so unfair. Evan was in no condition to make such a life-altering decision for himself. Christ, he didn’t even know what Tommy was. Had no idea that things like werewolves weren’t just stories and legends. And it was dangerous to try and change someone who was this severely injured. The bite was only ever given to people who were mentally prepared for the change, who were healthy and strong and ready.

But God help him, he couldn’t lose Evan. Not here. Not now. Not like this.

“...’course,” Evan sighed, and Tommy almost wanted to cry at the simple conviction in Evan’s voice.

Please, he prayed, not even sure who he was praying to. Please let it be enough.

Evan was strong. He was so strong, one of the strongest people Tommy had ever met, in every way possible. He had to be strong enough to survive what Tommy was about to do.

Because he would surely die if Tommy did nothing.

“I’m going to get you out of this, baby,” he said, carding his fingers through Evan’s hair, clumped with sweat, grime, and blood. He kissed his boyfriend’s forehead, his cheek, his bloodied lips. “You’re not dying here. I love you.”

Then he shifted, let his other self come to the surface enough for his teeth to lengthen, for his eyes to shine with unnatural light in a twisted mirror image of his treasured dreams.

It couldn’t be Evan’s wrist–too small a wound, too far from the heart. With the blood Evan had already lost, with shock setting in hard, the bite would have to take fast to have a chance. The throat. It had to be the throat.

“Trust me,” he said again, asking, pleading, begging as he tilted Evan’s head back, the weight of it already so loose and limp. Evan was slipping away from him.

“Huh…wha’?” Evan gasped, blood bubbling from his lips, frothy, scarlet bubbles, his breath rattling in his chest.

Tommy bit down.

Squeezed his eyes shut as the man he loved more than anything in the world screamed in pain, the sound of it weak and ragged, dying, Evan was dying and he bit down harder, pierced skin and muscle and felt more blood spill into his mouth.

Please let it be enough

He held Evan still when he convulsed in Tommy’s arms, desperately trying to keep him from dislodging any part of the steel bar through his abdomen. Not yet, not yet–Tommy would have to get it out of him when he started changing, but he couldn’t risk pulling it yet, Evan would bleed out in seconds.

He pulled his teeth from Evan’s neck with a ragged cry, pressed his forehead to Evan’s as his boyfriend shook and shuddered. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “It’s all right, it’ll be all right. I’ve got you, I love you, I’ve got you. Just hold on, baby, it’ll be fast.”

Evan’s mouth fell open, his breath coming in short, rattling pants. His fist closed weakly on Tommy’s shoulder, spasming as his whole body seized. Tommy searched Evan’s face frantically, looking for the first signs of the change taking place, waiting for the familiar gold light to start to eclipse the blue of his eyes, waiting for his breathing to become steadier, his pulse to become stronger. The full change would take hours, but the first effects should be enough, should start to heal Evan’s wounds. He just had to be ready to pull out the steel at just the right moment.

“I’m here, I’ve got you,” he promised over and over. “Don’t be scared, please don’t be scared…it’s the only way. I love you, I love you so much–I couldn’t let you die.” The words escaped him in a torrent, a flood, and all the while he scanned Evan’s face for the first signs of the change.

They didn’t come.

Two minutes.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Evan’s shudders grew weaker and slower, until he slumped against Tommy, his chest barely rising and falling, his pulse a weak, fluttering thing against Tommy’s fingers when he pressed them against Evan’s neck, slick with blood from the ragged bite. Before Tommy’s horrified eyes, the skin around the bite grew inflamed, streaks of scarlet spreading out from it, crawling up and down Evan’s neck to disappear under his turnouts.

“No…no, no, no, no, baby, don’t do this. Hold on, please hold on!”

It didn’t always work right away, Tommy told himself, clutching Evan to him, barely resisting the urge to shake him back to wakefulness. There was still time. Evan was so hurt, it was just taking longer. That had to be it. Had to be it. Sure, his mother had told him that sometimes the bite didn’t take, that a person just couldn’t handle it, that sometimes a bite could turn bad…but that couldn’t be happening. God, please that couldn’t be happening. Evan was strong enough. He had to be.

“Please, Evan. Please don’t do this. Come on, baby, come on! Stay with me–just a little longer, just hang on a little longer. Stay. Stay! Stay, damn it!”

He clawed at his radio again. “Mayday, mayday, FUCKING MAYDAY! Anyone! Anyone copy?!”

Static.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

[bright-and-burning]

FIC WRITER INTERVIEW

tagged by the beloved darlingsest dearest @vroombeams

How many works do you have on AO3?

12 (10 for f1)

What's your total AO3 word count? 49,323... oh wow. that's. more words than i realized.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

not gonna include non-f1 fics for this lol (but if 8 people wanna go give begging hands knees please kudos to bump it above my old ted lasso fic...)

begging hands knees please (394)

but my tracks are better (341)

dive down deeper still (330)

the light between the lines (308)

relax and catch the manic rhapsody (222)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes absolutelyyyyy i fiend for responding. i guess the first like. mildly successful fic i wrote (said ted lasso fic lol) got a LOOOT of comments, many of which kind of lent themselves to discussion post vibes? like, asking questions, noting foreshadowing, that kind of thing. not sure if that's a ted lasso thing, a multichapter fic in progress thing, a not pwp thing, or just the specific people who got invested in that fic thing, but i was sooo spoiled. got very used to people like picking out their favorite quotes and asking questions and inevitably having like, 4 or 5 comment long threads going back and forth. glorious. all that to say i always respond to comments bc so many of the first comments i got were engaging like that. and now there's less of that kind of comment (though i promise i appreciate all the comments i get!!!) but the habit stuck with me lol

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

that's been posted? none of them. lmfao. actually the three angst-bombs in my docs also have happy endings, i think. well i know for two of them; the third is like, essentially vent fic. so who knows how that ends. not me. it hurts Me too bad to write things that don't end very well. i just can't do it. i gotta put bandaids on the blorbos before the end or i'll die

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

i am the sappiest mf alive . this is like asking me to pick what's heavier, 10 pounds of rocks or 10 pounds of feathers. the light between the lines has the highest end point in comparison to the start point? but yeah. looking at all of these like ok u end in them getting together, u end in them getting together, u end ambiguously but they're cuddling, ur just soppy established relationship fucking nasty. etc etc

Do you write crossovers?

i haven't ever! well not according to what i think of a crossover, which has to heavily involve characters from said other universe, rather than just putting characters in an au. im not opposed but i have no idea what it'd be

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

i.... don't think so?? possibly on something long-orphaned from the early days of me writing i guess. but nothing i've noticed.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

fsdjfal yes. what does what kind mean... "dumbasses accidentally stumbling in a little too deep" is probably the blatant theme actually. oh fuck i probably should've added the under negotiated kink tag to my newest fic.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of??? would be baffled honestly if i did

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no i haven't!! or not in the technical definition of that. a lot of my fic comes out of messaging other people and playing around w ideas collaboratively via kind of chat fic . and then turning that into prose. but that's the closest i've gotten. i'm not opposed tho

What's your all-time favorite ship?

all-time... i have been reading fic since i was like 9 years old . and i am incapable of living anywhere but the present, in terms of taste. so. god. all-time... they all serve such different purposes tho...... if we go on statistics i've posted nearly 30k of landoscar and like 20k of everything else combined so.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

runners au... such a good fucking set of ideas. interweaving stories... unfortunately, i'm not really into maxiel a whole bunch anymore (even tho THEMATICALLY. it would fuck even harder now). and i think i went too hard on world building and lost the spark for writing it. which is super unfortunate. bc i do think it would fuck.

What are your writing strengths?

oh dear fucking god. atmosphere, maybe? ppl compliment that sometimes. paying really strict attention to the like. grounding of what's happening in the physical world???? squeezing in lots of detail without being overbearing, maybe?? (hopefully???)

What are your writing weaknesses?

prior to this month i would've said writing with any kind of speed. and then i wrote an 11k fic in a week and a 3k fic in a day. so im working on it. is it going to sound horribly narcissistic to say i can't think of any. wait that's a lie actually i just needed to think. i feel like my POV characters tend to all sound the same. in general i feel like there's not a whole lot of variety in my fic fjlsdjfals. also probably the aforementioned inability to not put bandaids on the blorbos by the end; i dont think im very good at like deep emotional complexity

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

ehhh. i don't do it. for a lot of the reasons kee said actually jfdlsajf.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

ok so i THOUGHT . it was . ahem. maze runner rpf. which is very funny on its own bc i dont think i ever read the books or watched the movies. i was just really really really into the BTS clips of thomas brodie sangster and . his name is NOT conan obrien. fuck. DYLAN. oh wait that's also a lie i watched the first one with a bunch of 20 year old boys while drinking pink whitney in college . my point still stands; i wrote it like 7 years before i watched the movie. it's still up on ao3 it's just very much so orphaned and also Really Really Really Terrible. and i don't remember the title. i was like 13 ok.

none of which matters bc i recently experienced extreme flashbacks to the fact that i wrote 5sos rpf first. and i was into reading the gay shit (and wanted to get into writing it) but i entered a fic exchange and got a Y/N girlie. so i wrote Y/N fic. for someone else. i think that was posted on wattpad??? i couldn't even tell you which 5sos guy y/n was going on a date with. that was ten years ago 😭

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

soooo many except lando n oscar's voices come so easily to me now that every time i try to write something else im like jesus christ this is so fucking hard and for what. i have a r63 (the BOTH of EM) markoscar fic that would be nice to finish. someday. if i can figure out mark webber's fuckass voice. or that ancient 2019 rookies wip that actually i think was the first thing i ever talked to m @glasscushion about. i want to exploreeeeeeee. but im scared it'll be bad 😔

What's your favorite fic you've written?

the light between the lines for suresies. even when i hate everything i've ever made and want to like, delete my blog and tear down my ao3 and set fire to my laptop. im still proud of it? it's a very weird dichotomy when that feeling hits, lemme tell u. it's just so different from everything else i've ever finished/posted. it accomplishes everything i set out to do w it, and it came together like it already existed in the world, and someone just needed to commit it to paper. it made people CRY. i've never done that before! (well i have but not. in a 'i wrote something cool' way.) there's real growth, and a real world behind it... idk. also some people really liked it and said such nice things abt it that EYE cried. so . <3 (god fucking willing it someday passes that ted lasso fic in kudos. please.)

zero pressure (like so zero pressure it's negative pressure. i've created a vacuum.) tagging @foggieststars @leclercenjoyer @wewentcarracing @userkritaaay @its-all-papaya and @mecachrome <3333

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 18: You, me, and our men

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

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🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader, Jungkook x Taehyung

🗡️ word count: 17.1k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️ warnings: dear god, buckle up... discussion of drug use; very soft and fluffy moments; threesome; oral sex (m & f); screaming orgasm; multiple orgasms; playing footsie; punishment & reward; orgasm denial & control; voyeurism & exhibitionism; all of these men are shit heads; loud, sloppy oral; squirting; begging & teasing; light humiliation; safe words; Yoongi & Namjoon being domestic at a silly time; submissive Jeongguk; mc dominant for the first time; use of restraints; noona kink; hair pulling; face & body slapping; masturbation; praising; riding (forward & reverse); mirror sex; finger sucking; a little spanking; fingering; ass eating; overstimulation; after care; i love these characters so fucking much and it really shows ughhhhh.

🗡️ note: i really have no idea how i let the smut scene™ get so huge and wild, but i hope you enjoy it. after all the pent-up tension, it was fun to write. perhaps this scene being huge and gratuitous is my way of distracting you from the horrible realities of the Collateral universe, which will become extremely present in the next chapter. it feels more like a oneshot than a proper chapter, but...whatever. i know not one of you will complain. ok enjoy!!! i love you!!!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on june 2023 | read on ao3

From the moment you wake up, your nerves are haywire. 

You know two things to be true. The first is that this is the last day in the foreseeable future that you will be spending in Jimin's home. The second is that Yoongi will be home shortly after 2 PM.

When Jimin wakes you up by rubbing over your forehead and whispering sweetly, it dawns on you that this is the last time, and it causes a swirling of happiness and sadness to fill your chest. The sun blares through the window at an angle that you typically miss in your sleep, and you squint against the morning light, a sight that has become something of a stranger to you. 

With a loud yawn, you rub sleep from your eyes. Then you grumble, feeling as if you had just gone to bed moments ago, frustrated to discover that it is only 10 AM and that you have, in fact, slept far less than normal. It is sweet for Jimin to wake you early on your last day; it warms your heart to know that he is up to something. 

"I thought we could get some coffee and pastries before I send you off to the Min Mansion," Jimin suggests with a smile. 

Today, Jimin is dressed casually in a burgundy turtleneck tucked into charcoal slacks, with his hair partially pushed off his forehead. His skin is dewy and clear of makeup, radiating with natural beauty. And you can tell his patience for you is wearing thin as his smile falters and his eyes widen; Jimin does not like to wait, and he is absolutely incapable of hiding anything on his face. 

"Alright, alright," you mutter before he has the chance to complain. 

With a somewhat indignant huff, you toss the warm, pretty pink and orange comforter aside and try not to lament how you will not be returning to its embrace. Then you pad over to the closet and choose a pair of black leggings and cozy green sweater, and you get dressed in there, knowing Jimin is still sitting on your bed, likely scrolling through his phone. 

"Don't worry about your things," Jimin calls when you stand a little too long, taking in the sight of clothing and shoes scattered around, cluttering up a sliver of space in the large, walk-in closet. "I'll have Joonie come deal with it. He loves doing your peasant work."

"That is true," you respond with a smile, shutting off the light in the closet and walking out in socked feet. "If there is one thing Namjoon is good at, it is doing exactly what I want him to."

Jimin rolls his eyes dramatically, and mutters, "Gross," under his breath, and the two of you giggle as you exit the room into the hallway, and set out for a morning errand.

Hanging out with Jimin for several hours is a blast, and you spend most of the time seated on a café patio watching passersby and commenting on everything from the cooling weather to people's clothing styles and any random little thought that crops up in between. But as time ticks by, you become antsy.

By 1:30 PM, you are a wreck, checking your phone so often for a notification that Jimin snickers and tells you to relax. 

At 1:45 PM when you get the "Almost home!" text from Namjoon, your heart becomes so frantic, you feel like you might throw up.

"Alright, let's get you home," Jimin grumbles when you announce the news with shaking hands clenched tight to your phone. Maybe caffeine was a mistake. 

You are able to distract yourself a little with chatter during the drive, and even get lost in singing a song on the radio that you recognize as one of the tracks a dancer named Cherry enjoys stripping to. The breeze coming in through the windows as you leave the city pulls you into a calm state, and you close your eyes to enjoy the way the wind feels.  

But as soon as the car pulls into Namjoon's driveway, your stomach is turmoil, sloshing and churning, threatening to make you sick. You realize you are squeezing your hands tightly when the dig of your nails begins to hurt your palms, and you open them wide, flexing and attempting to relax them before resting them against your knees and squeezing. 

All you can think is, What if he hates me? What if he remembers every horrible thing I said? What if he never wants to see me again? 

Of course, you do not fully believe any of that; you do not think Yoongi has it in him to hold a grudge over something like that, especially if Namjoon has relayed the things you said to him the other night. But you do fear that something you said could have stuck with Yoongi—burrowed deep into his subconscious to make a home, festering with hateful words during quiet moments when all he wants is peace.

"Dove?" Jimin asks softly, and you gasp, pulling your gaze from the black dashboard that had gone out of focus as you stared at it. You glance up to find the vehicle has stopped in front of Namjoon's garage. 

"I'm scared," you mutter softly before you can stop yourself, squeezing your eyes closed to fight back the urge to cry.

"I know," Jimin responds as he reaches over to rub a hand over your shoulders and down your back. "But this is Yoongi, and he loves you. He is not going to be angry with you."

Although no tears have fallen, you press the sides of your index fingers below your eyes as if willing all condensation to stay put. And, with a deep exhale, you nod and say, "I don't think I worry about him being angry. But I do worry about him being hurt."

Jimin's hand slides up to your shoulder and gives it a squeeze, forcing your eyes to close involuntarily. "Go in there and talk to him," he urges, and you swallow thickly and nod some more. 

"Thanks for everything," you mutter, smiling despite yourself. 

"Any time, dove," Jimin responds, and you know that he means it.

The seatbelt feels heavy when you unbuckle it and release it to clunk against the door as it slides into resting position. With a slow, deep fortifying breath, you reach for the door handle and tug, then you begin the process of making your limbs move, one after the other, sluggish with anticipation. 

As you approach the door, your heart pounds, and you wring your hands in front of you with each step forward that you take. It will be fine, you tell yourself over and over. It will be fine, it will be fine, itwillbefine. 

Before you have a chance to lift your hand and knock, the door opens, and you squeeze your fists tight once more while taking in Namjoon's bright, beautiful smile. The urge to cry returns and your exhale rattles something fierce from deep in your lungs. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Namjoon says, eyes soft and knowing, assessing your very clear signs of distress. He wears a fuzzy brown cardigan over a white tee with black slacks, looking soft like a teddy bear and so inviting. "Deep breaths, yeah?"

You nod and let out a chuckle of relief as you step through the threshold and lean against him. Namjoon wraps his arms around you and steps back into the house, pulling you along just enough to allow him to close the front door. Both of your hands grip onto the cardigan, and you rub over the soft fabric with your thumbs while toeing out of your sneakers one at a time. 

"Alright, clingy," Namjoon jokes, rubbing splayed palms over your shoulders and back before attempting to release the hug and take a step away. You continue to hold on tight and step with him, causing Namjoon to laugh and take you firmly by the arms. "The only way out is through. Let's go release you from limbo; Yoongi is excited to see you."

Tears spill at the mention of Yoongi's name, and you heave an exhale, then stand straight and wipe uselessly under your eyes. Even as Namjoon rotates, you feel the urge to bury yourself forward once more, allowing your body to turn while your forehead rests against his chest. 

"Darling," Yoongi's deep, soft, beautiful voice calls from beside you, "why are you crying?"

You hardly get a look at Yoongi as you back away from Namjoon and fling your arms around Yoongi's middle, gripping onto another soft sweater as you bury yourself into his chest. Yoongi wraps you in a warm, delicate hug and presses his lips to your temple, holding you there while you tremble and cry. He smells sweet and musky and perfectly him, and you are so terribly in love.

"I'm sorry," you manage to whimper. 

Yoongi's hold on you tightens, and he slides his head beside yours, uttering soft shushes while his hands rove everywhere they can reach, squeezing your neck gently and patting over your hair. 

His voice is barely above a whisper as he responds, "I'm sorry, too."

"I didn't mean anything I said," you sob, and Yoongi's hug tightens then softens. 

"It's alright if you did," he says, voice full of love; no malice to be found. Because, of course, Yoongi is soft and understanding with you. Of course, he knows your heart. "You have every right to be hurt."

Finally, you release the hug and back up only far enough to smile at the face that greets you. Yoongi's hair is wild dark waves framing his beautiful face, and with tears in his eyes, he looks softer than ever before. He wears a light blue sweater, and you rub your hands over his chest searching for the words to say; overwhelmed by a flood of emotions.

You settle on a simple, "I love you," and it feels so right when it passes your lips. It feels so right when Yoongi's lips upturn into a sweet smile that reaches his eyes. "I love you, and I'm sorry, Yoongi. I'm so sorry."

"Let's sit?" Yoongi offers, and you exhale deeply, releasing so much tension that has built and built in your shoulders and chest. 

Yoongi guides the three of you over to a large, light brown leather couch. The cushion groans as Yoongi sits, and you take your place beside him, followed by Namjoon, who sits on your other side. You bend your legs and turn your body to Yoongi, who does the same, facing you with his elbow against the backrest. 

"You look great," Yoongi says with a smile, and although you are the most dressed down you have been in weeks, you return his smile, welcoming the compliment. With a teasing lift of a brow, he adds, "Namjoon says Jimin has been teaching you to dance?"

Warmth rises to your cheeks, and you chuckle, then nod. Yoongi waggles his eyebrows, making you laugh harder. You lift a hand to swat him on the chest, but Yoongi catches it and holds your palm against him, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Yes, Jimin has been teaching me to dance," you respond somewhat sheepishly. "And Hyejin, a little."

"Ah, Hwasa!" Yoongi responds happily, smiling widely—devastatingly. "I'm so glad you spent time getting out and making friends. I was worried about you being cooped up in a dark mansion for three weeks."

You chuckle, but something heavy settles in your chest, making you frown. "I was drinking a lot at first. But dancing helped me get out of my head. It's been really good for me."

Yoongi releases your hand and attempts to scoot closer, knocking his knee against yours. In fluid, unspoken movements, Yoongi spreads his legs—lifts one leg to rest against the backrest and slide past you—and you mold into him, shifting onto your knees to slot yourself into the space he has made and scoot onto your side, wrapping your arms around his chest. 

"Namjoon," you mutter against Yoongi's sweater. "This hug needs a Namjoon."

The sound of Yoongi's laughter rattling in his chest against your cheek is a symphony, and you squeeze him tighter, feeling love build and build and pour from you. The couch shifts behind you as Namjoon stands, and Yoongi attempts to scoot the two of you forward while Namjoon wedges himself behind Yoongi. The two of them shift around until one of Namjoon's legs slide beside Yoongi's, multiplying your hug as two more arms wrap around you, sinking you further against Yoongi's chest.

"Better," you mutter happily, tilting your head to press soft kisses to the underside of Yoongi's chin and against his throat. Yoongi sighs with a smile and tightens his hug, and you continue to kiss along the curve of his neck until Namjoon—whose lips are pressed just below Yoongi's ear—comes into view. 

"Thank you for giving me another chance," Yoongi says, tugging at your heartstrings so hard you nearly cry again. 

"You're not allowed to thank me for loving you," you complain against his skin, breathing in his musk.

Yoongi chuckles gentle and sweet and says, "On the contrary, I am extremely grateful for your love." His voice softens as he adds, "And I intend to do my best to never take you for granted again."

"I don't understand what drove you to use…" you blurt out, then trail off, unable to say the word heroin, feeling it lodge itself in your throat, sharp as a needle and thick as tar. As you swallow around the discomfort and continue, Yoongi's fingertips trace shapes against your back, and Namjoon gives your biceps a gentle squeeze. "I don't understand addiction at all, and I overreacted. Even if my feelings were genuine at the time, the things I said were awful. I want you to feel safe with me, and I want to support you through whatever you are going through. I guess I was just shocked, but that's no excuse to lash out."

Kisses litter your cheeks and forehead, firm and soft and lingering, punctuated with hums. Your eyes flutter closed, and you lean into Yoongi's lips, smiling as his body says so much without the use of words. 

"I feel safe with you," Yoongi finally says, and you sigh, content. "I can't fully explain what drives me to use…and I can't promise I won't again…but I want to try to stay clean. I deserve to feel happy, and pushing you away or putting myself at risk of overdose are terrible ways to chase happiness."

"You can always talk to me," you offer despite silently acknowledging how huge and heavy and impossible some things might feel to voice. "And Namjoon."

"I'm going to resume therapy, too," Yoongi says. "I was talking to Christopher for a while, but stopped shortly before you moved in. I think it would be good for me to return to him."

You nod and bury your face against his neck, wondering if you should also talk to the family therapist. Some nights, you wake up screaming, returned by your subconscious to the night of the crash—to the sight of Taehyung stabbing a man clear through the gut with a blade. 

Even now, the thought claws at your subconsciousness with such force that Namjoon says something softly, and you hear Yoongi hum in response, but the sounds are distant and hard to parse. You squeeze your eyes closed, determined to be present and not spiral, breathing away the memory of that night as best as you can. 

"I hope the therapy helps," you say with a bit of a pout, feeling emotionally overwhelmed but with a desire to keep assuring Yoongi that you are here for him. "I'll do my best to love and support you."

Yoongi squeezes you tight and sighs against you, and Namjoon's hands slowly rub over your arms and Yoongi's in calming motions. This feels like the right time to voice what has been weighing on you so heavily, but as you open your mouth to speak, you begin to feel nervous. But why should you feel nervous with Yoongi? Since he began opening up to you, he has been supportive and understanding; asking him what the three of you are should not be scary.

"How would you define our…" you begin, trailing off while your pulse pounds loudly in your ears. "Our, uh…our relationship."

Four arms hug you tight, and Yoongi hums softly. Then, he asks, "You mean the fake engagement doesn't make my intentions clear enough?"

"No, you're right," you chide, lifting a hand to swat at Yoongi's shoulder, making him laugh harder. "Silly me."

It takes a moment for Yoongi's laughter to die. His shoulders continue to shake, and you give him time to respond truthfully while you rub his soft blue sweater between your thumb and forefinger. 

"I consider the two of you my romantic partners," Yoongi finally says, voice low and sweet. "I consider us exclusive, but with an asterisk attached to the word, allowing you and Jeongguk to play around if that is something you still want."

"It is," you admit, feeling your cheeks warm.

"And the same goes for me," Namjoon says, making your smile widen. You already know these things to be true, but it feels so nice to hear them spoken aloud.

"Okay," you respond. "Good."

"I suppose we have never had this conversation," Yoongi muses. "We sort of just…fell into one another."

"A beautiful collision," Namjoon says, fingers tracing shapes against your shoulders. "I feel so lucky to have been pulled by such an undeniable gravitational force, creating a galaxy of beauty and warmth between the three of us."

"What the fuck," you mutter against Yoongi's sweater. "That was so poetic and cute. I want to kiss you so bad, but I don't want to move."

Namjoon chuckles and gives your shoulders a squeeze. "You have plenty of time to kiss me, don't worry."

With a dreamy sigh, you mutter, "Good."

The three of you sit like this for a while, quiet and tangled around one another. Then Namjoon's phone rings, shrill and loud, and he shifts around as he fishes the device from a pocket to answer. 

"Hey, Tae," he says, and you smile to yourself; they say, speak of the devil, and he shall appear, but you only needed to think of him moments ago. 

"Hey, would you two like to join Taehyung and Jeongguk for dinner?" Namjoon asks. "Jeongguk is cooking."

"Darling?" Yoongi prompts, and you nod without taking time to consider the offer. As nice as it is to have a quiet moment between just the three of you, you imagine Taehyung and Jeongguk are eager to see Yoongi again. And you did tell Jeongguk that you would be interested in the five of you getting together soon. 

You, me, and our men.

Namjoon confirms that the three of you will be joining them, then ends the call and informs the two of you that you have just over two hours to get ready and meet at Taehyung's place.

"I need to change into something a little nicer," you grumble, reluctant to release Yoongi from your hold. 

You remember the closet of things that are at Jimin's place, and you frown, feeling torn once more. You are glad to be returning to Yoongi's bed, by Yoongi and Namjoon's side, but having a little home away from home was nice. 

"Let's head home, then?" Yoongi suggests, and you nod but continue to lean into him, breathing in his musk and feeling his warmth. 

It takes coaxing to get off the couch, and you whine and grumble the entire way, stumbling over your feet as you move, arms still slung around Yoongi and refusing to let go. Namjoon chuckles and heads to the door first to put on his shoes, and Yoongi waddles in that direction, walking you backward and pressing you into the door while he leans and bends to put his shoes back on. 

Only when you need to use your hands because shoving your feet into your sneakers proves feeble with the tongue and heels bending and getting stuck, do you release Yoongi, huffing and puffing indignantly the entire time. 

"Want a piggyback ride, sweetheart?" Namjoon offers as he opens the front door, and you gasp loudly because yes, absolutely, you do.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, excited, and Namjoon walks outside, steps down the three short steps onto the ground, and stands with his arms held out to the sides. You run and leap onto him, wrapping your arms tight around his neck, making him wheeze as he reaches for your legs and adjusts you in his hold. 

"Sorry, Joonbug," you mutter as you loosen your hold and place kisses along his nape, and Namjoon chuckles and says, "It'll take a lot more than that to kill me, don't worry."

Yoongi closes the door and falls into step beside the two of you, and off they walk to the dirt and gravel path that leads back to the main mansion. Yoongi reaches for one of Namjoon's hands, linking their fingers together, and you smile as you rest your head against Namjoon's shoulder, feeling safe and warm and happy—indestructible and untouchable in this soft, quiet moment. 

The walk back is peaceful, with only the sounds of footfalls crunching softly guiding you home, and you close your eyes, relaxing and breathing in the gentle bouquet of Namjoon's skin, shampoo, and laundry detergent. Despite being big and strong, with more blood on his hands than you can imagine, Namjoon is sweet, sweet, sweet, filling you from limb to limb with so much affection.

You hear the ground change underfoot and open your eyes to find yourself being carried past the driveway and garage, toward the front door. It feels good to be home, and you straighten out and watch over Namjoon's head as Yoongi takes the lead and begins to unlock the front door. Although you have cried more than necessary for one day, tears well in your eyes, and you feel so inexplicably happy to finally be home.

Yoongi takes off his shoes, then pulls yours off for you, chucking them aside while Namjoon steps from the slides he wore. There is a very light atmospheric scent to the mansion that you only now realize you have missed, and you look around at everything that is just as it was the last time you saw it—frozen in time and waiting, shrouded in dust motes that sparkle in the sunlight.

Namjoon carries you through the main hall and up the stairs, holding onto Yoongi's hand once more. Once you reach the master suite, Namjoon bends to lower you to the bed, then spins before you have a chance to fully release your hold, and closes in fast, slotting his lips against yours and sending a thrill of arousal through you. It has been far too long, and you melt into his touch. 

"We have two hours," Namjoon mutters against your lips, slotting himself between your spread legs. His mouth trails low, kissing and nipping at your neck and making you shiver. "I need to have both of you before I lose my fucking mind."

"You have me," you groan, lolling your head back with pleasure. "I'm all yours. You too, kitten."

"Kitten," Yoongi repeats in a low rasp as he climbs onto the bed behind you. 

The tangle of bodies is chaotic and haphazard—ravenous. Hands push and tug and remove articles of clothing while mouths desperately attempt to remain attached to mouths and skin, bruisingly firm touches and moaned confessions, making up for lost time. 

You slide to the floor eager to wrap your lips around Namjoon's half-hard cock, feeling him shudder beneath your fingertips while his whimper becomes lost between Yoongi's lips. Yoongi joins you on the soft rug, and you share your prize, watching with bated breath as his pretty doll lips wrap around Namjoon's hard length. And as a show of love, you graciously allow Yoongi to swallow Namjoon's cum. 

Namjoon has you on your feet and then on your back against the dark comforter so fast your head spins, and the two of them take their time pulling orgasm after orgasm from you with their mouths and fingers until Yoongi finally spins you onto your hands and knees, and fucks you so hard, you scream into Namjoon's warm, open mouth. 

"Taehyung's gonna kill us for being late," Namjoon jokes as he presses Yoongi into the mattress to stretch him on one finger, then two, all the way to four. When Yoongi makes you cum with his mouth mere moments before his own orgasm hits, it feels too good to be true. And when Namjoon's back arches and he fills Yoongi with his own release, the whorling mixture of moans and whimpers in the air lulls your trembling, achingly euphoric body deep into the comforter. 

You are so fucked out and high on pleasure that Namjoon has to carry you to the shower. 

When Jeongguk opens Taehyung's door wide and inviting, the first words that greet you are, "Taehyung is going to kill you for being late." His eyes drift between the three of you, and you watch as his gaze hones in on the bruise you sucked into Yoongi's throat hours before. 

The savory scent of meat and spices hit your nose, and you take a deep inhale, smiling as you say, "It smells amazing."

Jeongguk beams and takes a step back, giving the three of you room to enter. He wears that damned silk leopard print shirt again, this time tucked into tight black slacks, and you smirk to yourself remembering the conversation you had at Paradise; the sweet boy took your teasing to heart. 

You wear a simple black short-sleeve a-line mini dress that stops mid-thigh, with a heavy Cuban link necklace encrusted in diamonds, and your hair pulled back tight. Although your makeup application skills pale in comparison to Jimin's, you managed to paint a smoky look to your eyelids and allowed Yoongi to pick out a bright red for your lips. Yoongi and Namjoon wear black tucked into black, with several buttons undone, revealing skin and silver chains. 

As you step into Taehyung's home and out of your heels, Jeongguk walks ahead through the living room, off to the right. Taehyung's home takes you by surprise. His furniture is extravagant and mismatched, gaudy floral velvets and curving, carved woods. Art pieces litter walls and surfaces, from landscapes to portraits and strange carvings that may be human bodies but could be amorphous blobs. 

As you walk through the space, Yoongi takes your hand and tugs you slightly back, causing you to bump into him. "You can rile Jeonggukie up if you'd like to," he mutters in your ear. "Tease him a little."

Heat licks at your senses as you remember the discussion you had with Jeongguk. Nothing could happen without the others present, and here you are, under one roof with everyone at once. Your heart soars with hopeful anticipation, and you twist to send Yoongi a wink, making him chuckle. 

As you round the dividing wall into the dining area, you find a long, sprawling table adorned with dishes and covered pots of food. Past that is a black marble island against which Taehyung stands, frowning while swirling a glass of deep red wine. He wears a burgundy shirt that nearly matches his beverage, tucked into dark brown slacks, and at the sight of him, you smile widely. 

"Thanks for the invite," you beam, pleased when Taehyung does not miss a beat, grumbling, "Thanks for finally fucking showing up."

"Sorry, Taehyungah," Yoongi says as he slots an arm around your waist, kicking butterflies up in your tummy. "I've been away from these two for too long…I couldn't keep my hands to myself."

With a hum, Taehyung kicks from the island and says, "I suppose it was my fault for only giving you two hours." Adding, with a dismissive wave, "All is forgiven."

"How gracious," you mutter under your breath as Jeongguk brings a final dish to the table and Taehyung urges everyone to sit. 

Yoongi surprises you by taking a seat beside Jeongguk, and Namjoon pulls out the chair in front of Jeongguk's for you, so you sit and scoot in while Namjoon sits across from Yoongi, to your left, and Taehyung places himself at the head, to your right. Taehyung lifts lids from dishes, revealing pan-seared steaks and sides of potatoes, steamed and pickled vegetables, and an inviting pile of glass noodles. 

"Holy shit," you mutter as your mouth waters, and Namjoon grabs your plate, asking softly what you would like and how much of each serving. 

Yoongi and Jeongguk serve themselves, discussing something lowly and impossible to hear while Taehyung fills your glass with red wine. Once everyone is settled with their plates in front of them, Jeongguk raises a toast. 

"To Yoongi-hyung staying happy and healthy," he beams, turning to face Yoongi, whose cheeks flush as he smiles wide, showing off his gums. "Whatever it is you're going through, you're never alone, okay, hyung? I mean that. You have a lot of support."

"Alright, enough," Yoongi grumbles, shoving his wine glass forward for the rest of you to tap yours against. Although he is doing his best to appear as grumpy and impassive as possible, the joyful glimmer in his eyes is unmistakable. 

Everyone drinks and then begins to eat, and you take a deep, calming exhale before digging in, bracing yourself for a delicious meal. The food is fantastic, and you fall back in your chair after only a few bites, almost frustrated by how well Jeongguk can cook.

Namjoon chuckles from your left, and you turn to find him watching you with a smile. "That good, huh?" he asks, knowing full well the physical and emotional anguish you are experiencing. 

"It's ridiculous," you complain as you sit forward and continue to eat, and when you glance at Jeongguk, he is smiling around a bite of food. 

"How are you liking the new position at Paradise?" Yoongi asks as everyone begins to slow down mid-meal. 

"It's fun," Jeongguk responds happily, having a sip of wine.

This feels like a good time to rile Jeongguk up, and you take a sip of your wine and prepare yourself with a deep breath for impending foolery. Tentatively, slowly, you stretch your leg forward, searching with your toes for an ankle or a calf. When the side of your foot brushes against the side of a leg, you lock eyes with Jeongguk, who gazes curiously at you over his glass. 

"Jimin says you've been really enjoying it there, and that everyone is warming up to you quickly," Yoongi continues, using a knife to cut off a section of his steak. 

Jeongguk clears his throat, and you drop your leg away only enough to recalibrate your aim and try again. This time, you find the inside of a calf rather than the outside, and you very delicately rub your toes against him, feeling the soft material of his slacks gather and fall away. 

"Y-yeah," Jeongguk stammers, repositioning himself in his seat so that his legs are even closer—easier for you to access. "I like it there a lot, and Jimin-hyung says I'm learning the ropes pretty fast.” 

You push your leg up, grazing along Jeongguk's knee as you ask, "Is there anything our Jeonggukie can't do well?" 

Jeongguk's eyes widen, and he clears his throat, failing to hide the effect you have on him from even a small touch. You glance at Yoongi to find his eyes flitting briefly down at the foot between Jeongguk's legs as he bites back a smile. 

"Word on the street is you're little miss popular at Paradise, too," Taehyung says, turning your attention to him. He raises an eyebrow as if studying you, and suddenly you feel nervous, like a child caught misbehaving by their teacher. You wonder if there is any way he could know what you are up to. 

You clear your throat and continue to lift and press your foot forward rubbing your toes against Jeongguk's inner thigh, and from the corner of your eye, you can see him jolting slightly before slouching himself a little closer.

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung says before you have a chance to respond to his earlier inquiry, cocking his head curiously. "Care to share with the class what seems to be the matter with you?" 

Rather than letting up, you rub your foot back and forward, inching slowly closer to his crotch and making him shiver as he responds, "No-nothing. Why?" 

Taehyung is fast on his feet, standing and rounding the table before you can move your foot away, but you still sit up quickly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as Taehyung looks at Jeongguk, then looks at you. 

"Playing footsie, I see," Taehyung says as he approaches Jeongguk's chair, places two hands on the tall wooden backrest, and leans close. "And without my permission." 

"S-sorry, sir," Jeongguk says as his eyes fall to his plate. His entire demeanor shifts, making him seem small and weak compared to a moment ago. 

"Hyung, what should we do to punish these two?"

Yoongi's smirk is sharp and knowing, and you begin to wonder whether this was his plan, all along. You wonder if he knew that encouraging you to rile up Jeongguk would get this kind of reaction from Taehyung. What if the two of them planned this ahead of time?  

"Up to you, Taehyungah," Yoongi responds, sending a chill along your spine.

"I think Jeonggukie should get under the table and give our dollface here a taste of her own medicine," Taehyung suggests. 

"Darling?" Yoongi asks, "Do you consent to this?"

"Yes," you respond softly, feeling somewhat dazed as your eyes trail from Yoongi's grin to Jeongguk's shocked expression and finally to a smirking Taehyung. 

"You heard her, Jeongguk," Taehyung says firmly with a hint of impatience.

Without needing further instruction, Jeongguk pushes his chair back and sinks to his knees. "Yes, sir," he mutters before his head disappears under the table.

Your heart pounds, and you watch Yoongi, who sits and stares at you with his wine glass cradled between his fingers. The feeling of two warm hands spreading your legs makes you gasp and shudder, and you comply with allowing Jeongguk access, sinking further in your chair until your ass is right on its edge.

"I don't want to hear a sound from you, doll," Taehyung instructs, ripping your gaze from Yoongi to him. "If you so much as whimper, I won't let you fuck him. Understand?"

"Y-yes," you respond in time for the featherlight brush of fingers over your clothed heat, intaking a deep, quiet breath.  

"Yes, sir," Taehyung instructs, and you nod emphatically as you correct yourself, saying, "Y-yes, sir."

Warm breath wafts between your legs, and you swallow thickly, glancing between Taehyung, Yoongi, and Namjoon, who all carry on as if nothing is happening. Taehyung takes Jeongguk's seat, and the three men discuss bringing The Tigers on to take care of Jeongguk's former responsibilities, and how things have been going while Yoongi has been away. It seems Namjoon has been the family point person in Yoongi's absence, but you cannot bring yourself to listen closely to their conversation because the feeling of lips dragging over your pussy shuts out all sound around you. 

With a sigh that is as silent as you can manage, you let your head fall back against the wooden chair. Warmth laps over the mesh layer covering you, and you shiver as your pelvis angles upward, chasing the sensation. You want to beg Jeongguk to move your panties aside and touch you properly, and you bite your bottom lip to keep any sound from spilling. 

Namjoon is the picture of nonchalance as he leans forward and reaches for a bottle of wine to fill his empty glass. When he turns to you and reaches for yours, which is still half full, his voice is so sweet and soft, asking, "Don't care for the wine, sweetheart?"

As if determined to spoil any chance of fucking you, Jeongguk chooses this moment to tug your panties away and press the pads of his fingers against you, spreading your lips slowly and firmly. Your eyes roll back as he rubs over your clit, and you shake your head, doing your best to stay present as you say, "It's good," breathy and clearly on the brink of losing it. "It's a good wine."

"Well, then drink up, darling," Yoongi suggests, raising an eyebrow as your chest heaves. "There's plenty more wine; don't be shy."

You tremble as you lean forward and reach for your glass, gripping the stem tightly to lift it to your lips. Jeongguk's tongue flicks against you in quick, teasing tastes, and you chug back a large gulp, gasping for air once it is swallowed down as pleasure mixes with hints of a buzz. 

Jeongguk wastes no more time, licking and sucking your pussy with skill and vigor. He hums between your legs, making loud wet sounds with his mouth as if you are just another course in his expertly prepared meal. You wonder if he does it to taunt the men at the table, what with how loud he is.

Arousal builds quickly, flooding you hot and fast, making you scrape your fingernails into the arms of the wooden chair as you hold your lips taut between your teeth, desperate to stay silent. It feels good. So good that you have to puff out your cheeks in order to hold back from making any sound. So good that whenever one of the men attempts to speak to you, you respond in nods or a shake of the head, all the while keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

"Do you think we are too mean to her?" Taehyung teases, and you open your eyes to find the three men watching you with hungry, dark expressions. "Perhaps asking her not to make a sound was uncalled for. After all, Jeongguk loves eating pussy, and I imagine he is giving his all to our sweet doll."

"She is quite vocal," Yoongi says with a pout as if taking pity on you. 

"And she does make the sweetest sounds," Namjoon adds with a grin. 

Jeongguk slips a finger into your heat, forcing your entire body to simultaneously attempt to tense and relax. Although it is not much of a stretch, the angle forces him to press against your erogenous zone, and you tremble into the feeling. 

"Dollface?" Taehyung asks, and you turn your attention to him with wide, eager eyes. "Do you think my punishment is too harsh?"

You look around to all three men, attempting to gauge their expressions, which are all somewhere between curious and stern. Although Taehyung seems to be offering you a lifeline, you worry that outright agreeing might be more dangerous in the long run. 

"N-no, sir," you respond, sinking a little further into bliss as Jeongguk finger-fucks and eats you out. "Ah-I was naughty and deserve to be punished."

Taehyung seems pleased, eyes widening as he says, "My, what an obedient girl. You two must have a lot of fun with her, don't you?"

Namjoon leans and drapes an arm over your shoulders, and the weight of it paired with his light, distinguishing musk and delicate cologne does nothing to stave the many tumultuous sensations eager to pour from you. Already, you climb closer to orgasm; all Jeongguk would have to do is slip a second finger inside, and you would burst in seconds. 

"We sure do," Namjoon groans beside you, and the sound of his voice is too much, causing your eyes to roll back once more as you bite your lips closed.

"Since you're so desperate to be good," Taehyung says almost sardonically, "I will let you make all the sounds you need to. But only after you have been granted permission to cum, which you have to beg for."

The men in this so-called family are infuriating with their need to make you beg, and you open your mouth, letting out a quiet shuttering sigh, then lift your gaze to your devious, gracious host and ask, "Please, sir. Please, may I cum?"

"Already?" Taehyung asks, cocking his head with surprise. 

"She is extremely easy to please," Yoongi says, filling you with red-hot embarrassment. 

"Especially since we already made her nice and sensitive earlier," Namjoon adds. "I bet she will become overstimulated fast."

"I'm close," you say, voice coming out a little too broken—too close to a whimper. "Sir, please. I'll never misbehave again, please, please."

The squelch of Jeongguk's finger fucking into you becomes audible, and Namjoon shifts beside you as he asks, "Are you using two fingers, Gguk?"

Frantically, you shake your head, eager to tell Namjoon, No, please, don't encourage him. But Jeongguk is obedient as can be, and he slides his finger out only to press two deep inside. The stretch makes your mouth fall agape, and you huff out silent vowels, holding back so much you practically choke on air. 

"Please," you try again, staring ahead at Taehyung while doing your best to school your features. Pleasure tugs at every inch of you, knitting your brows and forcing your mouth open to hang wide, and you croak around each syllable, muttering like a prayer, "Please, please, please."

"Ggukie," Taehyung calls, "is she close, baby?"

Jeongguk licks a long, slow stripe over you, then calls, "Her muscles keep tensing and relaxing; she feels very close," before getting back to work, making your head absolutely spin.

"I am close," you mutter just above a whisper, desperate. "I'm so close. Please, sir. Please let me cum."

"Are you sure you deserve to?" Taehyung asks.

Petulance rises, and you rotate to glance between Yoongi and Namjoon with a look of sheer desperation that the two of them all but ignore. You confessed your love to these two monsters, and this is the way they treat you in a time of mental and emotional collapse; unbelievable!

"Please," you turn your attention back to Taehyung. You are so close to the edge, every fiber of your being trembles under the pressure of tightening your muscles and staving off release, but you are not sure you can hold on much longer. Orgasm denial is not something you are used to; pretty soon, your body will give into Jeongguk's very talented mouth and fingers and do what it wants to, permission be damned.

Yoongi stands slowly, scraping his chair legs against the wooden floor, then he rounds the table with a look of hunger, slowly stalking. Although you attempt to follow his movements, just having him nearer makes it more and more difficult to hold back. Clearly, these men are determined to torture you.

Yoongi grabs your chairback with both hands, which you see from the corners of your eyes, then he leans close, filling your senses with his musk, asking, "Is our Jeonggukie making you feel good, darling?"

You nod emphatically, biting your lips closed for fear of moaning if you attempt to speak. Jeongguk's fingers press over the sweet spot that makes you crumble so easily, and you squeeze your eyes closed in an attempt to hold your composure. 

"Use your words, sweetheart," Namjoon instructs.

"Ye—" you huff and sigh, eyes widening as Jeongguk's tongue laves and twirls, sloppy and wet. "Y-yes, sir," you practically moan, jaw trembling around each syllable.

"Poor thing," Taehyung teases, "just look at her fall apart."

"Please, sir," you mutter, closing your eyes. "Please, please, please."

With each push and pull of Jeongguk's fingers, you lose the ability to hold on any longer. Your body quakes from the storm that rages inside you, and heat pools and pools, ebbing but never flowing.

"Please," you beg more desperately. "Sir, please!"

"Can't hold on any longer, can you?" Yoongi asks, and you shake your head, muttering, "No, sir; I can't."

With a sigh, almost as if he is annoyed, Taehyung sits forward with both elbows against the table and says, "Alright, pretty doll. Cum for us."

The moment you relax, orgasm rushes through you, dragging you straight to the depths of hell. You practically scream, "Oh, god!" as Jeongguk plunges his fingers deep, sucking at your clit gently in a rhythm that pulls pleasure from every inch of you.

You grip the chair tightly and squeeze your eyes closed, gasping and panting while you cum on Jeongguk's fingers and tongue, coating him in a release that pours from you, hitting your thighs in droplets. Yoongi's arms wrap around you, one splayed hand on your chest while the other loosely grips onto your throat, holding you firmly in place. 

Overstimulation hits just as fast as your orgasm had, and you sob and begin to pull your hips back, eager to force Jeongguk to stop but unwilling to call a safe word or command him to. Jeongguk's mouth feels good—different from the ways Yoongi and Namjoon pleasure you, though you are incapable of determining how. Heat fills your cheeks at the thought of Jeongguk wanting this for as long as you have, and you begin to pull away with more intention, this time. 

"Too much," you beg. "Please, I can't—"

Jeongguk's lips and fingers fall away instantly, leaving you drenched and shivering as the air hits your exposed pussy. Yoongi lets up on his hold around you, and you catch your breath, heaving each exhale through your lungs as if you had just been drowning. 

"Magnificent," Taehyung praises with a smile. "Namjoon is right, you really do make pretty sounds, doll."

"Th-thank you, sir," you gasp, feeling equal parts thrilled and humiliated to cum with Taehyung watching you.

"Can you take more?" Taehyung asks with a raise of an eyebrow. He scoots his chair back and Jeongguk crawls between his legs, resting his head on Taehyung's lap with a dopey, wet smile that you can just barely see past the table. Taehyung rakes his fingers through Jeongguk's hair, keeping his eyes on you. "I can restrain this pretty boy and let you have your way with him, if you would like."

Using Jeongguk for your own pleasure sounds like a fantastic idea, and although you are overstimulated, you nod, slowing your breathing as you say, "I would like that, sir."

"Wonderful!" Taehyung beams, giving Jeongguk a soft pat on the head. "Get a head start, baby. I want to find you in the throne room, naked, in the center of the bed, understand?"

Jeongguk sits high on his knees, tilting his head up to Taehyung with an expression that pours over with affection. "Yes, sir," he says as Taehyung leans down and presses their lips together. Then he stands, and you notice the drool and cum that coats his chin and chest, shimmering in the light. Your gaze flickers to Taehyung just in time to notice him licking his lips, and you burn with the knowledge that he can also taste you. 

Jeongguk leaves the room, and you take the opportunity to reach for your refilled wine glass and chug its contents back, gasping on your next breath while your hands tremble. Taehyung stands and returns to his seat, to the right of you, leaning against the top of the backrest.

"How are you feeling?" he asks in a tone sweet enough to take you by surprise. 

"Good," you respond truthfully, sitting up and squeezing your thighs tight. 

"It goes without saying, but you absolutely do not have to keep going if you need to stop," he assures you, and you smile, giving a slight nod and muttering, "I'm good. I'm enjoying myself."

"Yoongi-hyung? Namjoon-hyung?" Taehyung asks.

"Perfect," Namjoon responds as Yoongi says, "I'm having a great time."

"Good," Taehyung says, clapping his hands together once. "I was prepared to have more of a conversation, but none of that seems necessary, so let's dive right in. Jeongguk and I use the stoplight safeword system, do you know what that is?"

You clear your throat and nod, having learned about this from your days in sex work. "Green for continue, red for stop," you say, unsure what their use of yellow might be, as sometimes it can vary.

"Exactly," Taehyung praises as he walks over and leaves a gentle pat against your head. "Yellow means slow down or let up, depending on what you are doing. You can check in and demand a color, but he is good about calling when he needs to. As for you—" he raises an eyebrow with his hands on his hips, "—Jeongguk and I have agreed that you can fuck him as long as I get to tell you what to do. Yoongi and Namjoon are also welcome to command you. Of course, if there is something you do not enjoy, you get the final say and can call a color, or simply tell us no. We want you to enjoy this experience to the fullest and will never demand anything you dislike. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," you mutter while wrapping your head around everything, feeling equally eager and nervous.

"Perfect," Taehyung says. "I just need ten minutes to get him ready for you…we're in the first door on the right."

As Taehyung begins to walk in the direction Jeongguk went, you sit up with a start. "Wait," you say, feeling nervous to voice your concern. "I…I've never been…dominant, before. Is there anything I should know? Or do?"  

With a grin, Taehyung turns his attention back to you, raking his eyes over you before he shrugs and says, "Just have fun. Jeongguk gets very sensitive if you tease him long enough…so you can lean into that if it's something you enjoy. That is, as long as you are being obedient to our orders."

You nod and say, "Understood," and Taehyung turns away and begins to exit the room. 

"These heathens left a mess behind," Yoongi grumbles as he gets to work covering pots of food and moving them to the stove before opening the cabinets to find storage containers. Namjoon follows suit, collecting plates and wine glasses to rinse and stack in the sink, and you sit in your chair in a bit of a daze, staring around the room, half-noticing the curved shapes of wood carvings on the chairs and the faint shapes of houseplants that you are not able to fully perceive. 

Once the table is clear, Yoongi pulls back a sleeve and checks his watch. "It's been about ten minutes," he says. "Shall we?"

"Best not to make Taehyung wait twice," Namjoon teases as he approaches and reaches a hand for you to take. 

Everything feels hazy and dream-like as the two of them lead you through Taehyung's house to the stairs near the front foyer. Each step creeks gently underfoot, and the closer you climb to the second level, the more frenzied your heart becomes. Your panties are soaked, askew, and uncomfortable, and your hand prickles with sweat in Namjoon's firm hold, which you grip a little tighter once you get to the upper landing. 

"Ready?" Namjoon asks sweetly, and you nod, muttering, "Yes, daddy," earning your palm a squeeze. 

As soon as you turn to enter the hallway, and turn again to the first room on the right, it becomes evident that this is not the master suite but a room they have specifically for sex. To the left in this large room is a king-sized four-poster bed covered in black satin with black mesh hanging down over and tied neatly to each post. Rigged between the two posts at the head of the bed is some metal bar contraption that Jeongguk is attached to, and it takes a few moments of staring at him for the scene to fully settle in.

Jeongguk is nude with his hands over his head, arms extended long, with his wrists restrained high enough that he has to sit tall on his legs. Except his thighs have leather straps around them, connected to leather straps around his ankles, suspending him in a somewhat strange position, as he does not seem able to fully sit tall or relax all the way down. 

"Breathtaking, isn't he?" Taehyung asks from a large black and gold throne to the right, overlooking the scene. He sits slouched against one arm of the square, wooden seat with a leg slung over the other arm, lounged and looking bored. 

You nod and mutter, "Yes, sir," as you turn your attention back to Jeongguk, whose head hangs slightly forward, short dark hair messy and covering his eyes. 

And he really is breathtaking. The way he sits has so many muscles taut and strained, covering his body in beautiful topography. His pierced nipples glimmer in the golden light of the room, and there is a perfectly inviting trail of dark hairs that travel from his cute, round navel down to the cock that hangs heavy and semi-soft between his legs. 

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung calls, voice magnanimous yet sharp, "eyes up, baby."

Jeongguk lifts his head, and already his eyes look glazed over and a little lost, as if the simple act of being restrained is enough to give him immense pleasure. When his gaze lands on you, a dopey smile tugs at his lips, which he wets with his tongue, dragging the inviting pink muscle slowly as if to tell you that he can still taste you—or, perhaps, that he wants to taste you again.

"Dollface," Taehyung calls, and you turn to look at him with wide, eager eyes, feeling somewhat intoxicated by this entire scene and still reeling from what happened downstairs. 

"Yes, sir?" you ask sweetly. 

"Unless we say so, from now on, keep your eyes on Jeongguk, understand?"

"Yes, sir," you respond, turning your attention back to Jeongguk.

"I imagine this setup is a bit overwhelming for you," Taehyung continues. "What is your color, pretty?"

This setup is overwhelming, but you are incredibly intrigued and find this submissive side of Jeongguk rather promising. "Green, sir."

"Good," Taehyung says as Namjoon's palm slides away from your hold and both men walk toward Taehyung, leaving you alone. "I want you to strip, right where you stand, keeping your eyes on Jeongguk. Can you do that for us?"

With a nod, you swallow a lump of nervousness and respond, "Yes, sir."

The dress zips in the back, and you reach with your right hand, fumbling with the material before reaching with your left hand to grip onto the dress and slide the zipper down. You only make it a few inches and have to bunch the dress up even more, feeling grateful this the material is actually loose and that you are not stuck having to contort yourself uselessly for an audience. It takes time, though—bunching, unzipping, bunching some more, unzipping some more—until finally, you are able to reach back with your arms lowered and get ahold of the zipper, tugging it down to your waist. 

Jeongguk watches intently as you slide the black dress down, away from your chest. You wear a thin, mesh black bra and matching panties, and you feel your nipples begin to harden beneath the material as the air hits your exposed skin, causing a very slight shiver to work its way along your back. 

When the dress falls past your hips, down to the floor, all that covers you are thin, small swathes of black material, and you fight the urge to lift your arms to shield yourself, holding your arms stiffly to your sides while you stare at Jeongguk, who stares back. 

"Strip all the way down, darling," Yoongi instructs, and you mutter, "Yes, sir," as you reach back and unclasp the bra. 

Jeongguk's gaze widens and softens as the material falls away to the floor in a heap in front of you, and his eyes follow the path of your hands, down to where your thumbs hook under your panties and push-pull them away. 

"Jeonggukie," Taehyung calls, "how is she?"

"Beautiful," Jeongguk responds in a dreamy, faraway tone. "She's perfect."

"Dollface, join our sweet boy on the bed, please," Taehyung instructs. 

"Yes, sir," you say as you force your feet to step from the pile of clothing and move forward. The bed is tall enough that you need to place your hands down and swing one knee up, hoisting yourself forward. You crawl to Jeongguk, and then sit tall on your knees before him. From this close, he is a work of art—a perfect blend of soft and firm lines that appear handcrafted with utmost care. 

"Dollface, I want you to tease our sweet Jeonggukie. You are not allowed to touch his cock or asshole unless given permission, but everything else is fair game. Rile him up, make him whine, make him beg. He likes it a little rough so don't be afraid to pinch, slap, scratch, bite…whatever it takes to drive him crazy. Does all this sound good?"

"Yes sir," you respond, unmoving as you decide where to start. It feels like you have been given too many choices, and suddenly, you feel overwhelmed. "Can I kiss him, sir?" you ask, inching closer on your knees.

"Of course, doll," Taehyung calls happily, and you continue to inch closer. 

Sitting high on your knees, you reach up and drag the backs of your fingernails over Jeongguk's cheeks, causing him to tremble and take in a deep, slow breath. His eyelids flutter, but he keeps his gaze on you, lips lifting and moving slightly, as if he has something to say. As your right hand continues to work its way up, over a scratchy shaved undercut and into thick, straight hair, your left thumb drags down, over his bottom lip, pulling it past his teeth until it stretches to its limit and pops back into place.

"So pretty," you whisper, watching Jeongguk's eyes widen. He must not be allowed to speak unless spoken to, but you have been given no such instruction. "I've never done something like this before. You're my first."

Jeongguk's mouth twitches around a syllable left unvoiced, and you lean forward and suck his bottom lip between your teeth, soft at first, then a little harder, making Jeongguk gasp, tasting skin and metal. You dart your tongue out to soothe over the scrape of your teeth, unable to hold in a whimper when Jeongguk's tongue meets yours, and you take the sides of his face in both hands to deepen the kiss, shoving your tongue into his mouth, forcing him to open around you while he moans, soft and inviting. 

You lick hints of your own arousal from his mouth, then smile against his lips as you say, "You taste like me…so sweet," watching with delight as he holds back from responding, brows knitting as if pained. 

This time, when you kiss him, you take his hair in both hands and grip. Jeongguk groans as his head is yanked backward, and you suck and nip at his bottom lip, making him whimper uselessly, darting his tongue out as if in search of a deeper kiss—desperate.

"So pretty," you say again while nipping at his jaw, holding his hair tight in your grip and letting your teeth snag and tease the skin all the way to his ear. 

Jeongguk trembles in your hold, and when you reach his ear, taking it gently in your teeth, he lets out a sweet little song of, "Ah-ah-ah," shivering madly in your grasp while his back arches. 

"Oh you are sensitive," you tease before taking his earlobe between your teeth again, a little more roughly, until he cries out a pitchy little yelp.

"Color, baby?" you ask, to which Jeongguk quickly responds, "Green, noona."

Hearing Jeongguk call you noona should not excite you so much, but arousal builds between your legs, and you feel the urge to keep pushing him for more. You nibble down the long, salty-sweet expanse of Jeongguk's neck, savoring the taste of his sweat, dragging your fingernails from his hair, to the back of his neck, over to his shoulders, and down along his spine. Jeongguk responds in jerks and gasps, and you continue down, down, until your mouth reaches one of his pierced nipples. 

With a flick of your tongue, Jeongguk responds as if he has been shocked, back bowing as his body shakes. His pebbled, pierced skin is inviting, and you lick again, this time slowly dragging your tongue over him, feeling every tiny curve, tasting hints of titanium. 

You scrape your fingernails down Jeongguk's ribs while you suck his pierced nipple into your mouth, reveling in the sweet, broken sounds he makes. He seems to be holding back, and you feel determined to make him sob. Although you two are becoming closer as friends, he was a bit of a prick to you for months, and you intend to let him know that you have not forgotten.

"Color?" you ask, knowing it'll be green, just to make him speak. 

"Green, noona," Jeongguk responds almost robotically—not good enough. 

Once more, you sit up tall, taking his hair in one hand and his jaw in the other. Your hand trembles as you pull it back and crash your fingertips against his cheek, gasping in tandem as Jeongguk's eyes widen, difficult to read. 

"Color?" you ask, receiving, "Green, noona," instantly. 

You slap again, this time a little harder, and Jeongguk gasps but holds his composure nicely. So you tug his hair harder, just enough to pull his head back, before you slap again. The skin of his cheek begins to redden, and you give it quick, softer taps, moving your fingertips little by little, covering the expanse of his cheek. 

"Color?"

"Green, noona."

This time, when you slap, it stings your fingertips, and Jeongguk groans. His cheeks seem to be the wrong place to tease, however, so you sit back, releasing his hair and rethinking your plan. 

"Darling," Yoongi calls, and you nearly turn to look at him but correct yourself, staring Jeongguk in the eyes as you say, "Yes, sir?"

"The way he's suspended is really taxing on the legs. If you're trying to hurt the poor boy, I recommend the thighs."

Jeongguk's eyes widen further, and you smirk as you say, "Yes, sir."

From across the room, you hear Taehyung gleefully say, "Hyung you are evil."

Slowly, you drag your fingernails from Jeongguk's shoulders, along the curves of his pecs, down his ribs. Finally, at his hips, you allow yourself to look down and find a very inviting semi-erect cock hanging between his legs. Of course, Jeongguk is perfect in every way, and you bite your lip as you attempt to pull your vision away, to his thighs instead. 

With both hands splayed open, you lift and crash your palms down onto Jeongguk's thighs, and he cries out, sobbing on the end of the sound. A thrill quakes through you, and you rub your hands over his thighs, lift both, and slam your left one down hard. 

"Fu—ahh!" Jeongguk screams. 

"Color, baby?" you ask sweetly. 

You glance up and catch him hesitating before saying, "Green, noona."

Without giving him a chance to relax, you slap your right hand down, followed by your left, watching his face as it contorts in pleasured pain while he bleats pathetically. 

"Color?"

"G-green, noona."

Again and again, you slap, moving your hands over to the sides of his thighs, rubbing your palms and alternating which side slaps, never in a discernable pattern, always to catch him off guard. 

Finally, you ask, "Color, pretty," impressed when he gasps, "Yellow, noona!"

Gently, you rub your hands over his thighs and sink down low, rubbing your cheek and lips over his left thigh, smiling sweetly against him. From here, there is a gentle, inviting musk coming from his lap that is difficult to resist. You lick your lips at the thought of swallowing him whole, then turn your face away, kissing the sore, warm skin of his leg while breathing through the arousal that licks at you, urging you to be selfish and take.

"Sweetheart," Namjoon calls, and you sit up, eyes on Jeongguk as you say, "Yes, daddy?"

Curiosity flashes in Jeongguk's eyes, and you wonder if he is attempting to calculate the various dynamics of your relationship. Using the term daddy with an audience is slightly embarrassing, and you shift in place, waiting for his response. 

"I don't think Jeongguk got a good enough look at you under that table. You should sit back and touch yourself for him…show him how wet he made you."

The edges of Jeongguk's lips curve, and you hesitate. It is not that you don't want to touch yourself with an audience, but it does add to the humiliation to have your two partners and one of their best friends sitting on the sidelines, watching you. 

"Color, doll?" Taehyung asks.

Somehow, the concern in his voice grounds you, and you say, "Green, sir," adding, "Thank you for the advice, daddy," so that Namjoon does not feel left out.

"Such a good girl," Namjoon praises as you sit back and scoot enough to spread your thighs around Jeongguk. 

There is more than enough room on the large bed to sprawl out, but you stay close, sweeping one of your feet against the outside of Jeongguk's restrained leg as you reach your hand between your legs and slowly drag your fingers over yourself, spreading and teasing your folds. 

Desire burns through you as you touch yourself while Jeongguk watches, eyes wide and hungry, trailing from your pussy, over your body, and back down. Slowly, you sink your middle finger inside, and although the size is nowhere near enough to stretch, a thrill quakes through you, making you moan as you gather release from your earlier orgasm and pull your finger out. 

Jeongguk licks his lips, intently watching as you use your slick finger to spread yourself and swirl over your clit. It feels good, a simmering pleasure that covers you in warmth, and you loll your head back, hesitant to let go enough to moan, whimpering more softly than usual.

"Be vocal, darling," Yoongi calls, and you squeeze your eyes closed for a second as you say, "Yes, sir," frustrated that absolutely nothing can get past these men, but also grateful for the push.

You still hesitate as you open your mouth to moan, but with each sound you make, Jeongguk appears to lose his composure more and more. With a nibble on your lower lip, you circle over your clit, then rub down to your hole, up and down, gathering more and more release, becoming wetter and wetter, all for him. 

"Do you like what you see?" you ask, eager to tease despite the tremble in your voice. 

"Yes, noona," Jeongguk gasps, swallowing thickly before his mouth falls wide. 

"So wet for you, Jeonggukie," you moan, using your other hand to rub and pinch at your breasts. "Too bad you can't fuck me."

Jeongguk whimpers and shakes in his restraints, legs straining and arms moving. His distress urges you on, and you rub over your breasts more, gathering and squeezing the soft skin between your fingers while dipping two fingers into your pussy. 

"I want you so bad," you pout, watching as Jeongguk crumbles. "My fingers aren't big enough…but you are."

"Please," Jeongguk mutters, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Please, sir. Please."

"Begging already?" Taehyung teases and Jeongguk nods emphatically. 

Jeongguk's voice sounds dreamy, and he licks his lips again. "Please, sir. I've been good."

You can hear Taehyung stand and begin to approach before he comes into view, climbing onto the bed, on his knees, reaching up to drag his fingertips up and down the length of Jeongguk's arms. At first, you feel shy to be on display for him, but Taehyung does not regard you, keeping his eyes on Jeongguk. 

"You really have been very good," Taehyung praises as he nuzzles against Jeongguk's neck. Jeongguk leans into the touch, doing his best to keep his eyes on you as Taehyung continues. "You cooked an excellent meal, and you were very obedient when I told you to make our doll cum."

"I've been good, sir," Jeongguk whimpers as if stuck on repeat. "Please, sir. I've been good."

Without another word, Taehyung reaches up and begins to undo Jeongguk's wrist restraints, slowly lowering his arms one by one and rubbing his palms from Jeongguk's shoulders to his hands. With a sigh that sounds like relief, Jeongguk sits back on his heels. 

"I'll undo your legs too, but you have to behave," Taehyung says as he begins to unhook one of the thigh restraints. "You are only allowed to do as you are told and nothing more, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jeongguk responds with a sharp smile, eyes focused on you. 

Although your moments have slowed, you continue to tease yourself with your fingers, watching as Taehyung crawls around Jeongguk's back to free his other thigh. Taehyung crawls backward, then stands beside the bed, out of your direct line of vision. 

"Sit back," he commands, patting the bed, and Jeongguk does as he is told, sliding back and extending his legs in front of him, settling against the tall wooden headboard. 

"Dollface," Taehyung calls, and you keep your eyes on Jeongguk but instinctively begin to sit up as you respond, "Yes, sir?"

"He's all yours," Taehyung says as his voice travels back to where the throne sits. "Have fun." 

"Thank you, sir," you respond as you sit forward, getting swiftly onto your hands and knees. 

With the possibilities suddenly seemingly endless, you feel overwhelmed, but you crawl forward and cage Jeongguk's reddened thighs, hovering close to his leaking cock, which sits pretty and thick against his tummy. 

"Is Jeongguk an impatient man, sir?" you ask, watching as Jeongguk fails to keep his expressions schooled, eyes sharpening and widening. 

"Extremely impatient," Taehyung responds, making Jeongguk huff a sigh. "If you decide to go slow it might drive him insane."

With a smirk, you mutter, "Noted, sir," then lean forward, touching the very tip of your tongue to the very bottom of Jeongguk's shaft and dragging up slow, slow, slow. His skin is velvet-soft, and you drool as you lift your head just below the crown, humming as Jeongguk trembles and gasps. 

You kiss over the crown, right where the skin is softest, pressing your lips nice and wide before sucking and lapping at the skin in slow, gentle movements. Jeongguk groans, sounding almost pained, and you continue to lick languidly, teasing the skin, giving him just enough pressure to feel something but not enough to satiate any hunger. 

"Please," Jeongguk whispers, and you glance up, tongue outstretched against him, to find a look of desperation tugging at the corners of his eyes. You hesitate to respond for a fraction of a second, feeling momentarily astounded that this is happening.

"Please, what?" you urge, watching as his jaw trembles. 

"Please, noona. Please touch me more."

Teasing Jeongguk is a thrill, but you are quickly losing your composure, and as much as you want to listen to him beg and beg, you are also too eager to continue holding back. In a swift movement, you tilt your head forward and swallow Jeongguk's cock, taking him only halfway while sucking on the tip. 

Jeongguk moans loud and eager, music to your ears. You hear Taehyung say, "Hands at your sides," and imagine Jeongguk must have been moments away from taking your head in his hands, sending a thrill down your spine. 

With a pleased groan, you lift your head and settle a little higher on your knees between Jeongguk's spread legs. At this angle, you can take him into your mouth much more easily, and you sink down until he nearly hits your throat, feeling the tight squeeze of your lips accommodate his girth. 

"Fuck," Jeongguk mutters, "you feel so good."

Jeongguk's words of encouragement spur you on, and you hum happily as you bob your head slow but steady, lodging his cock into your throat just enough that it nearly makes you gag before coming back for air. You can hear the sound of his fists gripping the sheet below, soft material scratching against blunt fingernails—a quiet, tactile cry of desperation. 

As you lift your head, you swirl your tongue over his shaft, then release, opening your eyes and looking upward, watching as Jeongguk melts from the sight of you holding your mouth wide, saliva falling like garland hung between your tongue and his cock. 

"You taste good, Ggukie," you say as the spit breaks and falls against your chin and chest, some dripping onto your knees. Eager to tease but nervous to dirty talk, you swallow thickly and do your best to sound confident as you crawl high onto your knees and begin to straddle his lap. "I could do this all day…but I want to feel you so badly."

"God, yes," Jeongguk groans, gripping tightly to the comforter at his sides. "Please, noona."

"What a shame you can't touch me," you pout while wrapping your arms around his shoulders, sitting high on your knees. "I bet you could make me feel so good."

You tilt your hips low, dragging yourself over Jeongguk's length, coating him in your arousal. Jeongguk whimpers and it sounds so sweet and so needy, you bite your lip and smile. Slowly, you push your chest out, dragging your breasts over his clavicle and pecs, and Jeongguk looks pained from how little you are giving him. 

You lean close and mutter, "Kiss me. Show me how badly you want me."

With a groan, Jeongguk tilts his mouth to yours and eagerly sucks at your bottom lip before prising your mouth open, making way for his tongue. You hold him steady, keeping his head close, but still, he leans his face into yours, groaning desperately, rough in the way his forehead and nose press against yours, desperate in the way his teeth gnash and nip between wide, ravenous licks. 

You part from the kiss and grip onto Jeongguk's chin, smirking as you angle your hips forward, surprising yourself with how easily you snag Jeongguk's cock on your entrance and begin to lower yourself on him. Jeongguk's eyes widen then roll back as you lower and lift your hips just enough to tease his tip, sighing through the stretch. 

"Please," Jeongguk mutters, eyes and mouth fluttering and trembling so pretty and so wrecked. "Noona, please fuck me. Please, please, please."

"Awe, baby," you tease, lowering yourself further, gasping a silent sob from how incredible he feels. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

"She caved so quickly," Taehyung grumbles, reminding you that you have an audience, causing your cheeks to warm with humiliation.

Yoongi chuckles as he mutters, "I'm actually shocked by how long she held out."

You roll your eyes despite Yoongi being correct about your impatience. Holding back for as long as you have has not been easy, and truthfully, you deserve to be praised for your efforts. 

"Typically, she's begging us in an instant," Namjoon adds, and you bite back an indignant smile.

You would absolutely run your mouth if you thought the three doms chiding you would let you away with it, but you are not eager to test them—not with Taehyung, who seems to have the firmest willpower and most sadistic tendencies, present. You finally have Jeongguk nestled deep inside you, and you are not willing to fuck this up for either of you. 

The unraveled straps of the restraints that were wrapped around Jeongguk's wrists hang low, about a foot above his shoulders, and you reach up, gripping onto the leather. You hold on tight and moan as you lift and swivel your hips, teasing Jeongguk's tip and pulling a soft, impatient huff from his chest. 

Jeongguk's eyes rove over your body, up to your face, as he cranes his head back. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and you tilt your head to the side to ask, "What is it? Speak, boy."

"Beautiful," Jeongguk mutters sweetly, and you feel your heart skip a beat. You smile, then bite it back, trying to be a tease, not feel fluffy. 

"Shut up," you grumble quietly, lowering your hips just enough to make Jeongguk croak out a soft moan before lifting. With the help of the straps, you find a good angle for your back to arch, allowing you to bounce your ass just enough to tease his tip. 

Jeongguk whines and huffs, squeezing the sheet below him, causing peaks of material to form—mountains of tested patience reaching a breaking point. And although it feels good to stretch yourself around just the end of him, you want the rest, so you release one strap and then the other, settling with your hands on his shoulders and sinking down deep with a moan and pleasure flows through you in waves.

"Fuck," Jeongguk whimpers, dragging the word out long.

The stretch is enough to make you quake, but you do not have the ability to keep teasing yourself, even if it means finally caving in and giving Jeongguk what he wants. You lift your hips and drop them, choking on a sob that is punctuated by a deep moan. Pleasure bursts and settles into your limbs, tingling through you like electricity, and you wrap your arms tight around his shoulder and neck and begin to fuck yourself on his length.

"Feels so good," you moan, eyes shut and head tilted back, using Jeongguk to chase your high, eager to cum all over him and make a fucking mess. 

Jeongguk's lips drag over your neck and shoulder, huffing hot breath that turns your skin sticky, and you do your best to keep a steady rhythm, climbing closer and closer to bliss, reaching the precipice little by little. 

"God, look at her," Namjoon groans, making you shiver. You shouldn't be so greedy, but you do wish Namjoon could climb onto this bed and help you use Jeongguk.

"Stunning, always," Yoongi responds, and your heart and soul yearn for him, desperate to feel Yoongi once more, even if it has only been hours since the last time. 

"Our poor Gguk is going to rip holes in this sheet by the time I allow him to touch her," Taehyung teases. "I haven't seen him this wound up in ages."

Jeongguk sighs and groans, then leans slightly back as his head lolls from side to side. He looks like he is about to burst, and you slow your hips, watching intently as he shakes his head and frowns, muttering, "Please, noona, please don't stop."

Rather than listen to his pleas, you lift your hips all the way, sending his cock to hit his tummy in a wet splat. Jeongguk grumbles, and you lean in to nibble at his chin and jaw until he shivers, then you back away from his lap and spin around.

As soon as you turn away from Jeongguk and lift your head, you are met with your own reflection, staring back from a floor-to-ceiling mirror that runs from the door to the conjoining wall. You gasp as you take in the sight of yourself on your hands and knees covered in a sheen of sweat, with Jeongguk sitting high on his knees behind you. 

Jeongguk watches the mirror, smiling as you regain your composure and back up on your knees, grabbing for his cock with one hand while lowering yourself down. As soon as you are partially seated on his erection, you use both hands to spread your ass, arching your back as you lower yourself, eyes on the mirror to see Jeongguk staring down, moaning with his mouth hung wide. 

"Like what you see, baby?" you ask as you begin to raise and lower your hips. 

Jeongguk's eyes snap to the mirror, and he appears dazed as he says, "Yes, noona."

You sit up high on your knees and anchor your hands against your thighs as you begin to ride Jeongguk, finding a steady rhythm that sends your pleasure building once more. At this angle, his tip rubs over your erogenous zone, and you tilt your head back, moaning and gasping with each delicious drag. 

With one hand gripping to your thigh, you reach the other between your legs, rubbing over your clit, desperate to cum. Your hope is that once you orgasm, you can barter with the doms to allow Jeongguk to touch you; you want his hands on you, groping, squeezing, and holding you down. Just the thought alone has you speeding toward bliss, and you press your fingertips just a little more firmly against your clit and slam your hips down so hard it stings. 

"Fuck," you whimper, chasing your high faster and faster, "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum."

The sound of one of the men clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth makes you jolt, and you begin to fear the worst. Sure enough, Taehyung asks, "Did we say you could cum, pretty?" and you begin to feel frantic, though you do not slow your movements. 

"N-no," you mutter weakly, "but, I thought—"

"I'm just toying with you, pretty," Taehyung interrupts with a chuckle, filling you with relief. 

"If I cum, will you let him touch me, sir?" you ask, watching Jeongguk's lips twitch through the mirror. 

"I suppose I could allow that," Taehyung responds. "Since you've been so obedient."

"Yes," you whimper, lifting and slamming your hips, so close to the edge. "Thank you, sir."

"Fucking squeezing me," Jeongguk groans behind you, and you glance into the mirror to find him sitting tense, staring down at your ass. 

Jeongguk looks fucked out and on the brink of collapse with sweat dripping down his neck and his face screwed up in both pleasure and impatience. You imagine him holding you down against the mattress to use you just as you have used him, and that thought is exactly what you need to plummet into euphoria. 

"Fuck," you whimper, "I'm gonna—"

Your orgasm crashes through you, snapped suddenly with a burst of energy that throws you forward as you quake and sob, gripping onto the black satin sheet with both hands while you desperately move your hips, chasing more and more until you are no longer able to move, moaning and sobbing as your muscles tense and release around Jeongguk. You squeeze around him, eager to chase more bliss, but your body feels tired, and your legs quake. 

"Sir, please," you whimper as your hips slow and you become too overcome to keep a steady rhythm, "please let him touch me."

"Jeongguk really has excellent stamina," Taehyung says, sending a chill through you as he adds, "if we allow him to fuck her, he might just break her in half."

"She can take it," Yoongi insists in a tone that is familiar and dangerous. "She can handle the two of us, after all."

After a short pause, Taehyung calls, "Jeonggukie," and you glance into the mirror, watching as Jeongguk's mouth twists into a sharp, dangerous smirk. 

"Yes, sir?" he responds, eyes on your reflection.  

"You have permission to touch and to speak," Taehyung says, and you watch as Jeongguk releases the poor sheet from his grip, stretching and squeezing his palms at his sides. "The hyungs say she cums really easily…but I bet you can't give her three more orgasms by the time you're finished."

It should be terrifying the way Jeongguk looks down at you suddenly as if you are a piece of meat, licking at his teeth while dragging his hands from your hips to your shoulders, and back down. Jeongguk adjusts behind you, still buried deep, and he settles with one hand on your hip and the other gripping the back of your neck. 

"Stay on your hands and knees," Jeongguk instructs firmly, making you shiver. "And keep your eyes on me."

You barely have a chance to mutter, "Yes, sir," before he pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, spearing you on his length far deeper than when you were riding him. The pleasure-pain is incredible, and the moan that falls from your lips is broken, no more than rough a burst of air. Jeongguk wastes no time digging his fingertips into your soft skin and setting a pace that is brutal enough to make you scream. 

It feels impossible to keep your eyes open and on Jeongguk's reflection, but you do your best, only allowing your eyelids to flutter closed momentarily. Jeongguk is very clearly punishing you for teasing him so much, and you do your best to take everything he gives you, moaning and sobbing with each deep thrust. 

"Fuck, you feel so good, doll," Jeongguk groans, digging his fingertips deeper. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my fucking hands off you?"

The hand around your neck moves up to your face, and Jeongguk slides two fingers into the side of your mouth, gently tugging as he holds your head up, keeping your back bowed and ass held high. 

"Shit, you're so fucking tight," he groans, lifting the hand on your hip to smack your ass, making you squeal around his fingers from the tingle of pain. "So fucking wet."

Jeongguk's praises make your head spin, and it takes no time at all to chase another high. Your reflection is absolutely debauched, and you stare ahead at yourself and at Jeongguk, still unable to shake the surprise that this is actually, finally happening. Jeongguk is absolutely ruthless with his thrusts, and you squeeze around him in a rhythm that matches his, building and building your next orgasm, quaking uncontrollably as it begins to roll through you like a hurricane. 

"You're fucking cuming again, aren't you?" Jeongguk groans as your muscles flutter around him. 

"Yes," you mutter, attempting to nod with your head stuck in place. "Yes, please, please make me cum again."

Jeongguk slides the hand from your mouth, down to your shoulder, and fucks into you, moaning to match your sounds as your orgasm reaches its peak and causes you to sob and slip forward, unable to hold yourself up. Although you are disobeying his rule to stay on your hands, Jeongguk seems unphased, and he rubs his hands over your back and then presses your shoulders down into the soft sheet while his hips stay just as steady.

"She really is fucking easy," Jeongguk teases as he leans forward, pressing his weight into you. 

You turn your head to the side and lock eyes with Namjoon, who sits on one wide, wooden arm of the throne with his legs spread wide, watching you with a fire burning in his gaze. 

"Incredible, isn't she?" Yoongi asks, and you move your focus to him, on the other arm of the wooden throne, leaning forward with one elbow on his knee. 

Jeongguk pulls out, and you sob, clenching around nothing while his hands move down the expanse of your back, to your ass. He spreads you wide with both palms while bending lowly then licks from your clit all the way to your asshole, and you gasp then whimper, sinking deeper forward while arching your back to present yourself as best as you can.

The sloppy, hungry way he laps over your cunt is intoxicating, and when he curves up to your ass to dig his tongue into your tight rim, you grip roughly at the satin sheet, babbling nonsense at the sensation. Two fingers slide into your pussy, and Jeongguk slurps at your ass while his fingers stroke your erogenous zone, humming and groaning loudly. 

"Oh my god," you whimper as Jeongguk's ministrations intensify. There is no way you are going to last long like this, and you do your best to relax despite how taut you feel pulled from every delicious movement. You knew Jeongguk would be good, but this is practically soul-crushing with the way your pleasure builds and builds.

Jeongguk's fingers squelch inside you, and you feel the spray of your arousal hit your thighs while his tongue slurps and prods, breaching your hole and making a sloppy fucking mess.

"Please, Jeongguk," you whimper like a prayer into the sheet, which is sticky-warm with drool. "Please don't stop. Please, please, please."

Jeongguk groans into you, plunging his tongue and fingers in deep, pulling you apart at the threads. Orgasm hits like a freight train—fast and sudden and unforgiving, a crash without casualties. You scream and claw at the blanket as your release squirts from you, coating your thighs, sloppy and loud.

You quake and sob uncontrollably, lips dragging against satin as Jeongguk pulls his fingers from you and sinks low enough to lick over your cunt in firm, broad strokes. He hums as he devours you, squeezing at the backs of your thighs and filling you to the brim with oversensitivity. 

"Two down, one to go," Jeongguk gasps as he sits back and releases you from his hold. 

He pushes against your hip, sending you crashing into the mattress, and you mutter equal parts indignant and incoherent as he begins to turn you onto your back in a haphazard twist of heavy limbs. You feel exhausted, but you do your best, digging your head into the bed while settling onto your back.

Jeongguk towers over you tall and pretty like a demon of pleasure, glistening and muscular and so fucking handsome. You attempt to smile, panting around each breath, and Jeongguk crawls between your legs, lifting one over his shoulder while spreading the other wide. 

"You look fucking wrecked, doll," he teases as he leans forward and rubs beneath your eyes, undoubtedly to clean up a mess of mascara that has smeared. You pout, and he chuckles, adding, "Still gorgeous though. Perfect, even. I would have been gunning for this pussy long ago if I had known how much fun you are."

"Shut the fuck up," you mutter breathlessly, making Jeongguk chuckle. 

"Never made someone squirt before," he continues, lining his cock up with your aching entrance. "You've done wonders to inflate my ego, doll."

"Great," you mutter, attempting to roll your eyes indignantly, instead rolling them involuntarily as he slides in deep, filling you in one swift thrust. 

You moan as your body responds, pelvis lifting and arousal crashing. Jeongguk begins to roll his hips in a dizzying, tantalizing motion, and you do your best to relax despite the turmoil that already builds, threatening to tear you asunder. You are dangerously close to overstimulation, but you do not want to call your safe word. Jeongguk still has not cum, and you desperately want him to. 

"She's a goner," Namjoon chuckles, and you hate how well he can read you. "This will be her last orgasm before she becomes too overwhelmed, Gguk, so make sure you cum."

Jeongguk feigns a pout, reaching down to press two fingers between your lips, smiling softly when you do your best to suck around them. His hips are steady and much slower, dragging in a way that lets you feel every perfect inch of him along your swollen walls.

"I won't be able to last much longer," Jeongguk assures, voice dipped low and sweet. "Taehyung bragged about my stamina, but you got me so fucking worked up. You can call your safe word if you need to, though. Yoongi told me it's sakura."

You suck on Jeongguk's fingers and allow your eyes to close momentarily, drifting into a state of full-body bliss. Despite how heavy your limbs feel, you are floaty and weightless. Euphoric. 

"How do you stay so fucking tight?" Jeongguk groans as his hips pick up a quicker pace, skin slapping against skin. "How are you so fucking wet?"

You want to complain and tell Jeongguk to shut up, but the thought of speaking feels like too much, so you continue to suck mindlessly while Jeongguk uses you. He needs to finish before you lose your grasp on reality, and you are teetering dangerously close to that edge, lulled by the rhythmic thrust of his cock. 

Jeongguk moans and sighs, becoming louder the harder he fucks you. His voice is sweet when lilted high and pitchy, and inviting when it is deep and dulcet. You could drown in him, really—in fact, you think you just might. 

Time and space slip—float away like vapor in the air. You lay pliant and malleable as Jeongguk bends forward and leans back, changing angles, spearing you deep, rubbing places inside you that are carved wide just for him. When he finally pulls his fingers from your mouth to press them against your clit, you feel like you are dreaming. 

"One last orgasm," he pleads gently, twirling over you in incorrigible movements. "I won't last much longer."

You pull your arms over your head and stretch your back, arching into Jeongguk's steady, determined thrusts. With the final ounce of energy you have left, you tense and relax around his length, working your muscles to a rhythm that will help you cum. Not that you need to help him; Jeongguk's fingers work over your bud, pulling you closer and closer with each swipe of skin against skin. 

"Close," you whimper, feeling pleasure build. 

Jeongguk must take your affirmation as incentive to fuck harder, deeper, faster. Your eyes roll back as his pace reaches heights you have come to expect, and you grip at the satin sheet above your head as you stare into oblivion. 

And then, you drop. All at once, without warning, your arousal reaches its breaking point and bursts. 

"Fuck," you squeak through a sob, mouth frozen in bliss, desperately forming broken syllables until you are finally able to create words. "Oh fuck, I'm cuming. Jeongguk!"

Jeongguk leans forward, dropping your leg from his shoulder to the mattress and placing both hands beside your head. His pace falters as he leans close and slots his lips against yours, moaning and whimpering into your open mouth while he licks and sucks at your lips and tongue. 

"Feels so good," Jeongguk groans into your mouth. "I'm gonna cum, holy shit."

Jeongguk trembles, body lurching forward before he is up on his knees, pulling out and spraying his release onto your tummy, warm and viscous, quickly turning cold. You giggle, though you are unsure what is funny; you feel absolutely fucking broken.

One of the men begins to clap—you assume Taehyung—and then the others join in. You drag your arms down, over your face, cringing as you attempt to roll into a ball and disappear. "Please don't make this weird," you grumble as you turn to your side, only slightly bothered by the trickle of cum that runs along your tummy, down to the sheet.

Jeongguk hovers close, chuckling and pulling on your shoulder to get you to return to your back, and you resist, sleepy and no longer in the mood for any of these men; fucked past your limit and reeling from everything that has transpired. 

"Let's get you into a bath," Jeongguk offers, and you loosen your limbs a little, willing to tolerate them a little more if it means a nice hot bath. "Hyung has a huge jacuzzi in his room, and I bet he would be more than happy to turn it on and get it nice and warm for us."

"It would be my pleasure," Taehyung responds, and you hear the sound of wood creaking as he stands and walks out of the room, footsteps quieting the further he gets. 

Behind you, the bed dips, and you roll onto your back, eager to find out whether Yoongi and Namjoon are here to bother you—pleased to see that it is both of them.

"Darling," Yoongi says with a grin, dancing fingertips over your leg, which is bent at the knee. His touch tickles, and you shiver but do nothing to make him stop. "How do you feel?"

"Great," you mutter without thinking, voice wrecked and rasped from screaming. 

"That was quite the performance," Namjoon adds, sitting beside your head and wiping his hand over your forehead. "I'm surprised you had no issue with letting all of us watch that."

You shrug, still not fully grasping the gravity of the situation. "We're all friends," you mutter, making Yoongi chuckle.

Taehyung returns, and you grin widely, appreciative of him for letting you fuck Jeongguk. And sure, you are aware that your thought process is a bit ridiculous, but you feel drunk from this scenario—far more intoxicated than the two glasses of red wine could have made you. 

To your surprise, Taehyung holds his arms out and asks, "May I?" 

Your assumption is that he either wants to hug you, or that he plans to carry you off to the jacuzzi, and both options sound nice, so you roll onto your side and then to your knees and crawl haphazardly into his open arms. 

"Do you always turn into such a little baby after getting fucked?" Taehyung asks, to which Yoongi and Namjoon say, "Yes," in tandem. 

"Sometimes," you respond dreamily as Taehyung scoops you up bridal style, holding you close to his chest while whisking you away.

"It's cute," he responds, dulcet voice soft and pleasant. 

"You're cute," you grumble as you reach your arms to lazily hang around Taehyung's neck, burying your face into his chest. He wears a cologne that is earthy and a little spicy; unique.

Taehyung chuckles, chest rattling softly against your cheek, and you close your eyes and hum into the feeling. 

"I'm glad you had fun," Taehyung says as his slippered feet softly patter while he carries you down the hallway. "If you come to have any regrets or complaints later, we can all sit down and talk. I want you to feel comfortable with us; relationships are built on trust."

"I won't," you say, certain that there is nothing to regret. "I love you guys."

"We'll see how you're feeling in a few days, but it makes me happy to know that you feel good about everything now."  

The sounds of Taehyung's footfalls change, and you open your eyes to find that you are in a room with wainscotted walls of what you imagine to be mahogany, though you are not certain. Then he turns once more, and you are in a bathroom that is a lot like Yoongi's, but everything is white and gold instead of black. 

"Jeongguk has my permission to see you without my presence required. So as long as the hyungs are okay with it, the two of you can do anything you want. Personally, I don't care who sees you. Fuck on the stage at Paradise if you'd like."

"Now, now," Yoongi says, causing you to peek over Taehyung's shoulder, smiling when you see him entering the room and unbuttoning his shirt. "Let's not encourage them to fuck in public. Jeongguk might actually take it as a challenge, and we don't need rumors flying that Boss Min is a cuckold."

"For once, the rumors would be true, hyung," Jeongguk says gleefully as he sidles up to Yoongi, still fully naked and covered in sweat, slinging an arm over his shoulder.

Jeongguk winks at you, flashing a wide grin, and you bury your face against Taehyung's shoulder, feeling shy. 

"Are you getting in too, hyung?" Jeongguk asks as Taehyung begins to set you down, lowering your legs until your toes touch a soft rug.

With reluctance, you release Taehyung, and he keeps an arm around your waist, holding his other arm out for you to grab onto while you step one leg over the side of the large, white jacuzzi tub. The water is warm enough that you hiss and nearly retract your leg, but you quickly acclimate and lean in, finding the seat with your foot and standing on it. 

"Of course I'm getting in," Yoongi says, and you can hear the sounds of clothing being removed behind you. "Can't let our pretty darling have all the fun."

Taehyung sighs and mutters, "No fucking in the hot tub, hyung," making Yoongi chuckle.

It takes a lot of concentration to make your limbs cooperate, but you manage to get both feet into the jacuzzi and lower yourself enough to step into the center and wade over to the far seat. The warmth is soothing, and you sink down until only your head remains above water, watching through squinted eyes as Yoongi and Namjoon get undressed to their briefs. 

Jeongguk is turned around, rubbing his hands over Taehyung's chest, muttering lowly, and you enjoy a glance at his round, muscular ass before closing your eyes, smiling to yourself. 

The water sloshes gently as bodies enter the tub, and you do not need to open your eyes to know that the arm wrapping over your shoulder from the right belongs to Yoongi; his musk greets you, followed by the familiar weight of so many hugs. You sit up slightly and lean into Yoongi while familiar hands lift your feet onto familiar thighs and begin to massage thumbs into your tired arches. 

"I had fun spending time with everyone at Paradise, but the real paradise is here with you," you mutter somewhat sleepily, feeling Yoongi laugh against your cheek. 

"Corny," Yoongi teases with a squeeze of his arms around you, and more bodies enter the tub, shifting the water around to your left. 

You want to open your eyes and take in the bright, happy smiles of the men around you. You want to thank them all for the fun and show your gratitude for the affection they have given you. Taehyung is a wonderful host, Jeongguk is an excellent cook, and both Yoongi and Namjoon have shown a great deal of trust in you for encouraging you and Jeongguk to enjoy each other; Taehyung, as well. 

Your heart feels so full of joy, and your sore, aching body is soothed so perfectly in the warm tub. But your eyelids are heavy, and the warmth pulls you in. You hug Yoongi while the men chatter about things you are unable to keep track of, doing your best not to drift to sleep. 

At least you know that you are not at risk of drowning. With Yoongi at your side, it is impossible not to feel safe. 

Just look at me, baby, day and night Don't make me bad, make me bad, I'm addicted to you 이미 길들여진 내 맘을 자극해 Don't make me bad, bad, addicted to you 시작해 버린 이상 내 게 아님 안 돼

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this chapter was more or less an oasis, but the rest of the desert is to come. i cannot stress enough how shit is really about to spiral in the final arc.

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[chocojae]

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 — kim doyoung

summary ▸ seven signs you are in love according to not so love expert, kim doyoung ft. a tired and frustrated kun

genre ▸ doyoung x female reader | pure fluff | university au 

word count ▸ 3.2k

warnings ▸ none! 

luna’s note ▸ hello @beautifulchris​ ! I am your author for the exchange event held by @kflixnet​! i enjoyed writing this piece and really hope you will like this ♡ since the event’s main motive was to be friends, i hope we can get to know each other!

ONE: YOUR DAY STARTS AND ENDS WITH YOU THINKING ABOUT THEM.

Doyoung’s eyes widen as he notices the words he just scribbled on his notebook. He was spacing out in the lecture hall, and guess what he wrote? Your name, once again. 

It astonished Doyoung when he realised just how much he has been thinking about you these past few days. 

When he got to learn that you have a (secret) crush on him, all he did was think about you and notice your likes and dislikes. From him eating his breakfast and getting reminded (out of nowhere) that you love cats to him putting on an outfit of your favourite shade because you like that colour, his life was suddenly revolving around you.

It bugged him that it was you who occupied his mind 24/7 when it should have been his studies. Lately, he gets on his bus every day thinking if you would attend today or not and can’t help but get a little disappointed when he notices your absence. 

Something is wrong with him, but what? It’s the question that messes his mind the most. Doyoung angrily stabs the paper with frustration, his mind running a thousand miles per second, trying to figure out what could be the possible cause of his sudden curiosity and then his face suddenly drops. A tiny voice in his head whispers: You couldn’t like her back, could you?

Doyoung shakes his head violently, trying to shush the tiny voice. Through the corner of his eye, he looks at you for a split second. Right, there was no freaking way he possibly could.

Fine, Doyoung takes back whatever he said a few hours prior. There might be a possible, tiny, tiny chance that he might like you, romantically. 

He stares at your laughing figure for a little longer than he would before tearing his eyes off you, gulping soon after. God, why wasn’t he able to look away? Sure, you are attractive and kind but does he really like like you? Like as in a boy liking a girl? That type of like? 

He presses his lips into a thin line and steals another glance, soon feeling his cheeks burn up. Shit, have you always been that pretty?

“I don’t think this tragic piece of literature is supposed to be making you blush, Doyoung.” Kun squints his eyes at the younger male sitting beside him, noticing how Doyoung looked completely taken aback by his comment. 

Wait, Doyoung was blushing? BLUSHING? Now, that was unexpected. Doyoung cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know. It’s just the weather. You know how hot it can get in summers here.”

Kun squinted his eyes, not satisfied with the so called answer. There was no way he was buying the “reason” Doyoung was beetroot red. It was a white lie. Sure, he agrees that summers are hot in here but with all the fans and air conditioners present and just a simple black t-shirt thrown over him, Doyoung couldn’t possibly be reddening because of it.

“Are you sure you were not checking out someone and blushing?” Kun asks with suspense laced through his words, crossing his arms and giving a look that indicated he was ready to hear the tea. 

“Jesus, no!” Doyoung responds immediately. Hey, it was the truth. He wasn’t checking you out or something, he was just glancing at you. Glancing. There’s a difference, okay?

“Sure.” Kun shrugged, not convinced and continued his explanation, hoping Doyoung would get whatever he was trying to make him understand. Doyoung slumped down on the table, Kun’s words becoming white noise to him. With his head resting on his arm, he dragged his eyes towards you. Hell, you look absolutely breathtaking—

Here he goes thinking about you once again, not like he could help it.

TWO: YOUR EYES ALWAYS SEEM TO SEARCH FOR THEM.

Considering that he thinks about you most time of the day, it should have been natural for Doyoung to accept that he likes stealing glances at you. It would have been easy if that was the case. But it’s not.

Every single time he is reminded about you or glances at you, Doyoung tries to convince himself that he does not like you. It is tiring, very tiring since he thinks about you so much that it makes him frustrated.

If he would tell someone about this train of thoughts running through his head, he is one hundred one per cent sure that it would conclude he likes you. 

The thought that he might have harboured feelings for you, for unacceptable for him.

He chose to ignore those confusing feelings, shoving them aside. But what he couldn’t control was the way his eyes always gravitated towards you, taking his time to adore you like you were his love interest in some cheesy romance novel. 

You looked so ethereal in his eyes, so beautiful that he believed you were the most beautiful person to exist. 

He sneaked glances at you now and then and most of the time, you were already looking at him. So when he looked back to admire you out of nowhere, you both were caught off guard and turned away in a beat at being caught.

 Kun, who observed this quite often, found it pretty cute and enjoyed teasing Doyoung about this. Doyoung would shake his head, saying he was just spacing out and it was not what Kun thinks. But Kun could see how just two seconds after calling him out, Doyoung’s gaze was fixated on you once again.

THREE: YOU RANDOMLY START PICKING UP THEIR HOBBIES.

Seriously, painting and Doyoung? 

Doyoung looks around helplessly in the room filled with what seemed like skilled and passionate students. They all seemed so focused and determined, unlike him who stood there awkwardly, face laced with confusion.

Doyoung should have been studying in the library for the upcoming exam, or doing his laundry that has stacked up for about two weeks now. He should have been anywhere but here, occupied with the set of brushes he has no idea how to use.

Painting never once intrigued Doyoung, so why was he here? Answer: For you.

Through his secret source obviously Kun, he found out you liked to paint in your free time. 

To Doyoung, painting was something uninteresting but since you liked it, he was adamant to try it out as this would mean him finally having a common topic to start a conversation with you.

In the past two months, Doyoung got so frustrated with himself that he accepted he liked you, and yes, romantically. He disclosed this to Kun, who didn’t waste a single second to tease Doyoung by revealing he already figured out his “secret” long ago by the way he gawked at you.

And the more Kun teased him, the more Doyoung’s feelings grew and so did his desire to get to know you.

He wanted to start a conversation multiple times but the blush on his cheeks whenever he was with you prevented him from doing so. Doyoung did draft the convo scenes with you in his head, preparing different things to say based on your supposed replies in his imagination.

But to actually start a conversation with you was hard. His mind just goes blank whenever he decides to start a small talk with you, and the script he had prepared for weeks in his head, gets blurry. He stammers, and he blushes. 

You too, wanted to talk to him and spend some time together but you didn’t have the courage to. He made you feel so euphoric, it was hard to focus on anything else, including your words.

FOUR: YOU GET FLUSTERED AROUND THEM.

Doyoung’s standing behind you. You are standing in front of him. The proximity is so close that Doyoung could catch the faint smell of your perfume lingering over him. 

Kun nudges Doyoung from behind, leaning in and whispering. “You are red like a tomato. Don’t be this obvious.” Doyoung nods. He could feel the loud thumping of his stupid heart and is doing everything in his power to avoid looking at you, not because he doesn’t want to glance at you, but because he knows his heart will beat louder the more he will look at you.

What Doyoung didn’t notice was the way you were being a mess too. Eyes roaming everywhere in nervousness, cheeks painted pink and your friends passing you a teasing look.

You are so sure that Doyoung knows you have a little crush on him, and that didn’t bother you— until now. Because he is behind you, just behind you. The prettiest and kindest man (with utterly attractive hands and a honey like voice) you have ever known is behind you. Your freaking crush is behind you.

It feels awkward, nervous and exciting all at the same time and the adrenaline rushing through your system makes you go numb. Do you look good? Is your hair alright? What about you back? Oh, you should have taken your roommate’s advice and done some back exercises so you weren’t regretting right now. And what about your perfume? Is it still there? What if Doyoung doesn’t like scents?

The train of thought was never ending, and Doyoung could relate too. He should’ve worn something more presentable. The tray in his hands was shaking. Why the hell did Kun pushed him to stand next to you?

“I hate you, Kun.” Kun raised an eyebrow at his words, a small smirk adoring his face as he answered back. “But you also love me for this.” 

Doyoung bit back a smile. Kun just knows him too well.

FIVE: YOU GET (UNNECESSARILY) WORRIED ABOUT THEM.

Doyoung has no right to worry about you but it’s the third day he hasn’t seen your pretty face and it’s making him nervous. What if something happened to you? Or what if you left the university?

Millions of baseless thoughts ran through his head, his body stiffening. You couldn’t have gotten sick, right?

But what if you did? Cold sweat broke out on his forehead at the mere thought. Doyoung’s ears perked up hearing the giggles of your friends and he looked at them curiously. 

Maybe he should ask them, but wait, wouldn’t it seem extremely suspicious when he would randomly ask about you? Screw it, he says to himself and marches towards your friends.

“Hi.” The sudden appearance of Doyoung made their giggles come to a halt and they were visibly confused. “So, I was saying that..” Shit, he can’t do it. 

“Do you have the notes from the previous lesson? I forgot to jot down mine!” He passes them an awkward smile, hoping they won’t catch his unusual behaviour. 

“Sure” One of the girls, which he vividly remembers seeing by your side the most, takes out a notebook from her bag, handing it to Doyoung with the same expression as earlier. “Here,” Doyoung mumbles a quiet thank you before completely disappearing. 

The girls, confused, shrugged their shoulders and decided to not think much, later joking about how you should have been there.

Doyoug gave Kun his best puppy eyes. “Please.” Kun sighed and asked, “Why can’t you do this?” 

“Because it would seem weird.” Kun raised an eyebrow at the reply. “And it wouldn’t when I will? 

“No, because even if it will do seem that way, you are not me. That’s why.”

“Your logic is so…….baseless.”

Doyoung clung onto his arm, swinging it in an attempt to persuade him. “Oh come one, please, please.” 

Kun closed his eyes. “I am deaf, I can’t hear anything.”

“Please, only you could save me from this misery.”

“Misery? Misery? You not being able to find out why Y/N has not been coming for three days has driven you into misery?” Kun’s voice was laced with sarcasm followed by an eye roll. “And FYI, I don’t even talk to Y/N that much.”

“Well, you can ask just out of curiosity. I am sure they would understand.”

“Then why can’t you do it?” 

“Because it feels weird!” 

“Just say you are shy.” 

“I am not!” 

“You are.”

“I am not, okay!?”

“Liar.”

“So?” Doyoung asks in anticipation, eyes full of hope darting at the tired Kun. “She is at her grandma’s. No big deal.” 

“That means she is okay, right?” Kun slumps down beside him. “Yeah, I guess.”

Doyoung glares at him. “What do you mean you guess? You didn’t ask?”

“Obviously dude, I am not her boyfriend or something!”

“You had one job. One.” 

“Not again.”

SIX: YOU PICK UP THEIR HUMOUR.

caution ▸ cringy dad joke ahead

Doyoung has been observing you every single time so it wasn’t long before he picked up your humour. You were the dad jokes type and while Doyoung wasn’t interested a bit in them, the humour grew on him and now he has made Kun’s life a little harder than it was before.

“Wanna hear a knock joke?” Doyoung grins at the annoyed Kun. 

“It’s not like I have a choice.” He mumbled. Doyoung cleared his throat, “Knock Knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Nobel.” There was still that grin on his face when Doyoung waited for Kun to respond. “Ask Nobel who?”

Kun rolled his eyes. “Nobel, who?”

“No bell so I just knocked.” Doyoung bursts into fists of laughter and smacks Kun’s shoulder. “Be real, isn’t it funny?”

“It’s not—” Kun pauses sensing a glare thrown at him  “It’s so hilarious, I can’t even laugh!” Kun sends Doyoung a small, scared smile and releases a sigh of relief when Doyoung takes the comment as a positive one.

If Kun is going to stick around Doyoung who will find humour in dad jokes because of you, you both better get married for his unthinkable sacrifice. 

SEVEN: YOU IMAGINE A FUTURE WITH THEM.

Doyoung grasps the bouquet of flowers tight in his hands. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and calming his nerves down. 

You can do this, Doyoung! He says to himself, glancing at the flowers in his sweaty palms. He is finally doing this, Kim Doyoung is finally asking you out. Seems unreal, right? For Doyoung too.

He had never imagined he would ask you out, but here he is. 

He was smitten over you, everyone knew. You were referred to as his crush but that label soon was ripped away when Doyoung started seeing you in a new light. When everything about you seemed more lovely than it could ever be. When your flaws, which he had previously ignored seemed so perfect to him. When instead of getting all nervous and excited, he felt warmth and comfort from your presence.

The tag of a crush got removed and replaced by the one called love.

He imagined doing everything with you, going out on dates, meeting your family, late night celebrations, unexpected calls and what not. It become clear Kim Doyoung was in love with you. 

He had finally mustered up the courage to ask you out, for real. His heart was beating a thousand miles per second. He doesn’t know if you were ready for this, or even if you still had feelings for him but he was going to do it. It’s now or never.

Doyoung had called you in a cafe near by, and as much as you were puzzled, you were internally screaming. You were attracted to him, no doubt. He was kind, he was cute. He was everything you looked for in a man. So when you met Doyoung with a bouquet of flowers in his hands and cheeks flushed red, your heart beat synced with his, uncontrollable and messy. Your palms become sweaty as you sat down opposite him.

“Hi, how have you been?” You asked, a smile spread across your lips. The talk started off great. It seemed so pleasant and comfortable with Doyoung and you wished you could stop time. The moment felt surreal. 

Doyoung cleared his throat before scratching the back of his nape. “I don’t know how to say this, but I um….I…..like you.” Wait, he what??? “What?” 

“I like you.” Your eyes were about to pop off. Are you dreaming? Doyoung noticed your reaction and was quick to say, “We will pretend this never happened if you are not comfortable.”

“No—. Well, I— oh, god. I like you too.” Dooung blinked a few times. Okay, what should he respond with now? 

“Here,” He handles the bouquet with utmost gentleness and care. His cheeks you red, and so were yours. 

“What I was saying is…..how about we get to know each other first? This would help us to decide if we want to become official or not.”

“Like, get to know each other on ‘dates’?” You asked with a broad smile.

“Yeah, small dates.” he smiled back and finally made eye contact and was washed over with the warmth that spread through his entire body. His shoulders relaxed and leaned in, ready to hear all about you. “So tell me about yourself, Y/N L/N.” You chuckled, the smile never leaving your lips.

You both were over the moon, and the memory easily become your and his favourite.

Doyoung smiled as he closed his diary. Reading his old entries, he felt nostalgic and happy. He glanced at your sleeping figure beside him. One thing that he had never ever regretted was loving you. He was grateful to have you by his side. 

You were his first love, and now, his wife. 

The diamond ring on your finger sparkled every so slightly in the dim light of your shared bedroom. Doyoung lay down on the bed beside you, staring at your sleeping face with a silly grin on his face.

It was your third wedding anniversary today and you being all excited and proud drank a little too much than you could handle,  knocking out soon after. Doyoung, being a smitten man for you found it hilarious, and adorable.

He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear and continued to look at you with fond eyes over flowing with love. He kissed your forehead. He loves you so much, and nothing can ever change that.

links ▸ navigation | masterlist | works in progress

luna’s note ▸ congrats for making it to the end of the story, i hope you enjoyed reading! thank you for taking out your time and giving a chance to this work ♡ as always, feeback is much appreciated! please share your thoughts as a a small feedback can change my day for the better and give me motivation to bring more of such stories to you.

you can find more of my posted works here and fic ideas here!

© chocojae 2023

[kristinamae093]

Dashing Through the Snow ❄️

Everything else can be found here.

Book/Universe - TRR

Pairing - Liam x F!OC (Kyla)

Summary - A new festival commences at the palace, and the terror twins get creative to ensure their victory. (HCTS AU)

Word Count - 2500

Warnings - two bad words, a lot of fluff, shenanigans.

A/N 1 - I am using the following prompts-

@choicesflashfics prompt number 3, which will appear in bold.

@choicesflashfics holiday prompts numbers 10, 17, 18, 46, and 97, which will appear in blue.

@choicesholidays prompt its tradition, which will also be blue.

@choicesficwriterscreations holiday prompt snowball fight.

Please excuse any errors, and thank you in advance for reading and sharing!

Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

The palace was alive with activity, as it usually was on a Saturday afternoon, but today was a special day and called for additional hands. What would now be named Winterfest would soon open; a plethora of holiday-themed activities and competitions lay ahead, the most awaited a snowball fight with participation from both nobles and commoners. Despite the snowstorm from the day before, the projected attendance was still substantial.

Constantine banned the unofficial tradition long ago after Liam suffered a harmless injury, but Liam wanted to resurrect the idea. The holidays were near, and Liam saw an opportunity to strengthen the bond with his people and start the new year on a positive foot. 

Liam lingered in the foyer, observing the commotion beyond the window. The elated smiles of the growing crowd mimicked his own, as he anxiously awaited the start of the festival. 

Constantine emerged from the hallway singing, bundled in multiple layers and a thick hat. “Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open–” 

Liam was a patient man, but could withstand only so much; Constantine had been doing this for weeks. “I swear to God if you sing another damn Christmas carol…” 

“It’s fitting!” Constantine protested. “Seems like someone wants to be on the naughty list this year…” 

“Ha! You want to talk to me about who’s naughty?” Liam snickered. “You’re getting coal this year… No doubt about it.” 

Constantine’s mouth fell open. “Why? Give me three justifiable reasons–” 

“Halloween alone gives me plenty.”  

“You’re not Santa — you may be the king, but that doesn’t mean–” Constantine stopped as Liam arched his brow. “You know what? Forget I said anything…” He nonchalantly grasped Liam’s bicep. “... Have you been working out?”

Before Constantine could respond, Kyla appeared in the doorway. She traded out her usual scrubs for jeans and a coat and let her long, luscious locks flow freely. Liam couldn’t help but admire the pep she held in her step as she bounced over; the smile on her face stretched from ear-to-ear and Liam momentarily swore he was staring directly into the sun. 

“There you are!” Constantine exclaimed. “I hope you’re ready for a day of fun!” 

“Oh, I am.” Kyla beamed. 

“Good! We have a lot to accomplish today.” 

Kyla furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?” 

“Since I am forbidden from participating, that means I shall live vicariously through you.” 

Kyla’s eyes widened. “Me?” 

“Precisely! Since the Grinch over there believes that my health won’t allow me to toss a snowball.” 

“I stand by that statement,” Liam interjected. “And that’s Mr. Grinch to you.” 

“I have to agree with him, sir…” Kyla timidly spoke, but threw her hands up when Constantine glowered at her. “I’m not the one being a hard ass about it — I just gave my professional opinion.” 

“Hey!” Liam cried, the creases on his forehead duplicating. 

Constantine chuckled. “You’ve got a point there — his rear is solidifying as he ages.” 

“Really…” Liam placed his hands on his hips, glancing back and forth between the pair. 

“Perhaps we should venture outdoors while we await the first contest?” Constantine spoke to Kyla, completely ignoring Liam. “It’s a hill race, but we can explore the vendors in the meantime.”

Kyla’s stomach rumbled. “Does that include food?” 

“As far as the eye can see,” Constantine laughed. “Let’s go find something to munch on and we can discuss our plans…” He quickly cut his eyes over to Liam and smiled brightly, but soon directed his attention back to Kyla and whispered, “Let’s talk elsewhere…” 

Kyla clenched her lips together to conceal her laughter. She nearly broke when she saw the feigned offense etched in Liam’s features, but could tell from the playful glint in his eye that he wasn’t upset — actually, he looked as if he were fighting the crack in his stony facade.

The pair quickly exited, leaving Liam alone in the entryway. He watched them disappear and couldn’t help but grin. However, his father glanced over his shoulder with a distinct glint in his eye that Liam recognized all too well, causing the hair on his neck to stand at attention — he didn’t know what it was, but the terror twins were up to something. 

The day was enjoyable for Kyla; she survived an exhilarating sled race and placed third in an apple bobbing contest with Constantine cheering from the sidelines. The pair bounced around at a steady pace, visiting the multiple booths and sampling the offered delicacies. Liam was scarce as the center of attention, but made it a point to smile and wave whenever he spotted them.

After Kyla made a snowman that resembled the former monarch — much to Constantine’s delight — they retrieved some hot chocolate. Kyla's hands practically froze in the brisk air, but the warmth of the cup soothed her icy fingers as they sat together on a vacated bench.  

Constantine took a swig of his drink and observed the crowd. “It would appear as though the finale starts shortly…” 

“Seems like it…” 

He reached into his pocket and dug out a trinket, handing it out to Kyla. “Take this — it’s your secret weapon.” 

Kyla’s brows furrowed. “... What is that?”

“You know what it is, Kyla.” 

“Okay, but — how is this a weapon? And for what?” 

Constantine snickered. “The last person standing is victorious, and that is going to be you.”

“Me?” Kyla reiterated with wide eyes. 

“Yes, but we have to get creative…” He lowered his voice. “Here’s our plan — Liam will eliminate most of the competition because he’s competitive by nature, so you need to stay hidden until the playing field dwindles.” 

“… Then?” 

“Then you’re going to catch Liam off guard, and victory shall be ours!” 

Kyla’s confusion intensified as she stared at the object in her palm. “But I don’t see how this will –” 

“You know what to do with it, Kyla…” Constantine suddenly stopped. “You don’t have to actually do anything, but act like you intend to…” 

“That seems kind of… mean…” Kyla unsurely answered. “And I still don’t see how–” 

“Just play along — distract him — the rest is taken care of…” 

Before Kyla could respond, static from a microphone peeled through the air. Atop the stage was Liam, wearing a vibrant smile. After the crowd roared for a moment, Liam held up a hand to silence them. He detailed the past traditions that were being honored, as well as his intention to continue the festivities annually, which everyone in attendance was receptive to. He thanked the vendors and the staff for their service, but everyone listening was patiently awaiting the commencement of the last activity. 

“Alright, let’s get to business,” Liam started. “Our last event will be the snowball fight. Remember that today there are no titles — everyone playing is engaging as equals, myself included. In order to win, you must be the last one standing when the bell rings, and that person will receive this plaque, along with substantial bragging rights.” He held up the item and the crowd erupted, eliciting a chuckle from Liam. “I will see you on the west grounds in five minutes.” 

As Liam vacated the stage, Constantine addressed Kyla. “Alright — you’re ready for this.”

“I am?” 

“Yes! Follow my instructions and you’ll be fine.” Constantine reassured while leading Kyla to their destination.

Kyla nodded and before she knew it, they'd arrived. The country came out in full swing; there wasn’t a patch of snow-covered ground that didn’t have eager feet on it. The area was transformed into a makeshift battlefield, including ridges to take shelter and piles of pre-made balls scattered around. 

A loud horn sounded and chaos ensued; most ran to the nearest stockpile to arm themselves while others dropped to the ground to form their ammunition. Within seconds, Kyla’s vision neared completely white as snow sailed through the air. She recalled Constantine’s instructions and hid in a bank away from the brunt of the commotion. She fended off a few people on her venture but made it to her spot safely.

Liam bobbed and weaved the multiple projectiles flying in his direction. He hadn’t had this much fun in years and although the preparations were draining, this moment was worth it. He laughed and regardless of his frozen fingers, he never stopped even for a second. Liam took out anyone who dared to provoke him and as he watched them fall, his confidence skyrocketed. 

As the playing field lessened and only a few contenders remained, he didn’t even try to seek coverage; Liam felt ten feet tall and bulletproof, and nothing was going to stand in his way. Usually, he would have to compete against Drake or Olivia, but the storm impacted their travels; nobody was blocking his path to victory. 

Kyla could tell from the dwindling voices that people were bowing out; she carefully raised her head and saw very few contestants left. Liam stood in the open firing at anyone he saw, and Kyla couldn’t help but smile at the pure elation etched in his features. The moment was short-lived as she watched Liam force yet another participant to concede; she knew her moment was now.

She dashed to the closest shelter near Liam. “Hey!” Kyla exclaimed, just loud enough to grab his attention. “C’mere!” 

Liam jogged over, but kept his ammunition in hand. “Well, well, well…” 

“I come in peace!” Kyla proclaimed but knew it was a lie. 

“You know you’re supposed to be throwing these…” He trailed off while holding up his snowball. 

“I know… But… Well, I have this — thing that I wanted to show you…” 

“Now?” 

“Yep…” Kyla unsurely answered, suddenly realizing how blatantly obvious this ploy was. But Constantine was trusting her, and she was going to see this out. She dug the object he’d given her out of her pocket and held it over their heads. “Look, there’s mistletoe. We have to kiss, it’s the law.” She bluntly stated, but instantly flushed and scolded herself. 

Liam smirked and was tempted to succumb to her — oddly timed request, but it faded as he pieced things together. “So… You’re just running around out here with mistletoe in your pocket?” 

“Don’t you? I thought everyone did.” Kyla nervously chuckled. “You know, Romans believed that mistletoe brought about peace, and they hung them over their doorways for protection.”

“Is that so?” Liam asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. 

“Yep.” 

“Okay, then.” Liam dismissively agreed. “I’m going to have to take a rain check on your offer, but don’t worry — I’ll be back to collect.” He winked. 

“What–” Kyla stopped as two people appeared behind Liam, poised and ready to strike. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that the first was Trent, the other Bastien. However, Liam instantly thwarted their plan as he sensed their approach. He wasn’t a monarch at that moment — he was a predator. 

Liam spun around in true action hero fashion, hurling projectiles in every direction; despite his blind reaction, he landed a few critical hits. As Bastien and Trent retreated, he launched his ammo with precision, intently focused on his targets. “You think you’re sneaky? HA! Better luck next time!” 

Kyla watched and knew Constantine’s plan must be failing; on instinct, she took matters into her own hands. She quickly crafted some artillery and rose with her arm cocked, expecting Liam’s attention to be on Trent and Bastien but they were gone, and Liam was staring directly at her with a smug grin. 

“If you throw that snowball, you’re declaring war,” Liam emphasized. 

“Kyla!” Constantine yelled from the sideline. “Do it! Finish him!” 

Liam saw Kyla considering it. “Don’t — you will regret it.” 

Kyla’s brow arched. “Is that a threat?” 

“Nope…” Liam snickered. “It’s a promise.” 

Kyla contemplated her options for a moment before she lowered her arm with a sheepish smile. “Sorry… I guess the battlefield got to me for a minute.” 

Liam smiled. “No harm, no foul.” 

“Yeah… Perhaps it’s best if we hugged this one out.” Kyla suggested, trying to buy herself time. 

Liam’s grin faltered. “... Truce?” 

“Truce,” Kyla agreed. She hugged him, taking a moment to bask in his scent, but knew she had to think of something. 

Liam held Kyla closer, relishing in the added warmth from her petite frame, but noticed she was tense. The thought was short-lived as a brisk chill started at the base of his neck, slowly traveling downward and creating icicles in the wake of the snowy path. 

He recoiled away from Kyla, shuddering and dancing to vacate the sensation freezing his skin. Kyla giggled, and that’s when Liam recognized her deception. A newfound sense of determination washed over him at this sudden betrayal but before he could react, an icy projectile landed on his chest, followed by another, then another. 

“Throw the snowball like you mean it!” Constantine hollered. 

Kyla did as instructed and wildly launched snow at Liam; she wasn’t crafting balls anymore but hurled anything in his direction. Liam returned fire, but Kyla proved to be precise. Regardless, he snuck his way back to her. He secured his arms around her waist to subdue her, but Kyla wasn’t willing to go down without a fight; she squirmed and kicked up snow as he lifted her and spun in circles. The sound of Kyla’s infectious laughter filled his heart to the brim, but Liam's deep rumbles joined the symphony of her joy. 

He eventually stopped and Kyla stilled, but Liam kept his hold intact. He stared down at her, admiring the elation sparking behind her doe-like eyes. A force beyond himself took over; he inched closer, never once breaking their intent gaze, but he could see the anticipation coursing through him reflected in Kyla’s vibrant orbs. Just when he was about to make contact the concluding bell sounded, startling them apart. 

The crowd invaded the field again to congratulate those remaining, and Liam made a small statement to finish the day. People surrounded him after, but he politely deflected their attempts to get his attention; he had a prize to collect. 

He quickly located Kyla, his father, Trent, and Bastien together. “Ah, so I’ve found the circle of treason.” 

Trent’s jaw dropped and he stuttered something, but Constantine rolled his eyes and snapped, “Compose yourself, boy. You’re safe for now, even if you failed miserably.” 

Bastien laughed. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got your back.” 

“And you,” Constantine scowled. “I expected better out of you.” He went off on a long rant about honor and dignity, causing Liam and Kyla to chuckle. They quietly slipped away from the commotion, but kept Constantine in their line of sight. 

“So…” Liam started after a period of comfortable silence. 

“Yes?” 

“I believe I was promised a — prize — of sorts…” 

“You weren’t the only winner, thank you very much.” Kyla confidently stated. 

“Then consider it a reward for both of us...” 

As she took in Liam’s smirk, realization swept over Kyla. “Oh…” She bowed her head with flushed cheeks. “You want…?” 

“It’s tradition, Kyla, and I always honor traditions…” 

Kyla giggled and softly pecked his lips; it was so fast and sudden that neither was sure it truly happened, but the jolt of electricity told both it was very real. However, Liam needed more — a little taste of her simply wasn’t enough. He brought her closer and kissed her properly, cradling her face in his palms as they savored the tranquility of the moment. Butterflies swirled in their chests as their lips softly curled together, but Liam eventually pulled away wearing a bright smile that mirrored Kyla’s. 

“Now that’s a prize...” Kyla playfully swatted his chest, eliciting a bark of laughter from Liam. “Thanks for coming today, Kyla… I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Me too.”

“Do you think Lancelot failed Arthur, such as you have me?” They heard Constantine bellow over the crowd, as he laid into Bastien and Trent. “Yet, there are two of you, and you still couldn’t manage a simple task–” 

“Should we rescue them?” Kyla asked Liam. 

Liam considered it a second before he shrugged. “Nah. They can consider this punishment for their treason.” 

“Aww… Is William butthurt that his men turned on him?” Kyla batted her lashes with a toothy grin. 

Liam rolled his eyes. “Always with the 'William'…”

Tags (let me know if you want added or removed) - @ao719 @queenrileyrose @angelasscribbles @tessa-liam @kingliam2019 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @bascmve01 @busywoman @belencha77 @mysticalfangirl @nestledonthaveone @lovingchoices14 @lunaseasblog @malblk21 @sfb123 @emersyn-in-cordonia @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @queenmiarys

[autisticlancemcclain]

thank u @zenstrike for the tag <333333333 i see ur mic and i'm elated about it

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

185! but i haven't updated in like a week and a half so we're probably closer to 190

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

556,104. i am very excited to watch it jump up when i finally finish my longfic teehee

3. what fandoms do you write for?

literally just voltron lol. well not counting baby me's wattpad lol. i started writing almost two years ago and just went ham basically. i've been intentionally avoiding things that i know i will get hyperfixated on bc i don't want to stop my writing obsession lol

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

ooooou i'm excited to check. i know it's changed quite a bit over time. i usually sort them by hits!

i will grind you to sand (beneath my louboutin heels) [voltron, 2573 words]: bamf lance fic where i give him a revolver and let him go ham basically

mr. snuggles [voltron, 1656 words]: one of my very earliest fics! lance, lover of weirdo animals, finds a demonic cat-sized spider and adopts it despite his friend's freakouts

he might not look like he gets bitches (but honey that dick was eleven inches) [voltron, 1136 words]: this one is so dorky lol but it's just secret relationship klance coming to light in the most embarrassing possible way

does anyone know where the love of god goes (when the waves turn the minutes to hours) [voltron, 4283]: a canon divergence au where lance is a seer and convinces the skeptics on his team of his abilities by ending the war

this is the part of me that you're never gonna ever get away) [voltron, 3262 words]: a lance & shiro hurt/comfort with a small autistic lance character study! i'm very proud of this one

5. do you respond to comments?

i definitely do on tumblr! it's one of the first things i do when i wake up actually. on ao3, though...i'm pretty sure i have about eight hundred unanswered comments sitting in my inbox 💀 it's an ongoing issue

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm almost sure it's this post-game show lance leaving fic, because i got comments and asks for weeks begging me to write a happy ending lol. but this fic from the hana universe, from when keith is little and shiro is fighting for custody and they haven't figured things out yet. that one is sad. this dream pov adashi fic is also sad and has no happy ending bc, you know. shiro is in space and adam thinks he's dead and everything. my loneliest series is also still in progress and as such there is no happy ending. and this is my earliest angsty-ending fic with MCD

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

oh god pretty much everything i write has a happy ending?? if i’m being serious?? frankly i don’t do a lot of linear plot. i just write Scenes that are vaguely connected. BUT my h2o fic had a plot that ended happily, as did my cowboy fic, but truly i’m more of a slice of life kinda gal. all my active wips are plot-driven, though, and i plan for all of them to end happily.

8. do you get hate on fics?

oh god yeah. i get it on brown eyed lance, autistic lance, adhd keith, allura just in general (are you sensing a pattern), my refusal to use readmores, and lately just some demands for me to write differently/more?? most of it is just funny so i post it to goof on it lol, but some of it i just delete and pout about until i forget about it 💀

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

yes and it’s nasty and i will literally never ever post it. although i guess i’ve written some softer stuff that’s more allusion than anything, like in my loneliest series.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not anymore, but i did when i was a kid?? i think i wrote a pjo/hoo/divergent/the mortal instruments/homestuck/a bunch of other shit fic when i was 13. i’ve successfully blocked that era out of my mind tho so i’m not sure. i do a lot of insane aus, tho. i wrote a fic based off a country song written in the sixties. so.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

i’ve had people write continuations of my wips?? which i didn’t rly like. i just ignored it.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

someone has asked me about translating a fic before! haven’t heard anything since tho.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have tried. i’m not very good at it. i have very Specific ideas about things and can be very controlling, so it’s honestly better that i don’t lol.

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

klance, easy. been in the trenches of this goddamn fandom since i was 13 years of age. it’s been a Journey.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

god, the butterfly effect. i get people asking me to update all the time and i genuinely feel bad, because i have absolutely no ideas or plans for it. i might try to come up with an ending of some kind?? but i wrote that like two years ago, so i have changed a LOT about my writing since then.

16. what are your writing strengths?

dialogue and humour, i think. and sometimes writing lack of emotional communication (if that makes sense — i like to try and write around an emotion).

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i over explain a lot. and i overuse dialog ur tags sometimes. i have a Very Specific scene playing out in my head and i want everyone else to see it like i’m seeing it, which is my downfall a lot. i’ve been trying to work on implicit stage directions.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think sometimes it’s necessary? it can be a good tool for humour, like with cussing that can’t be achieved in english. but while i understand and read several languages i have always always struggled to speak or write in them. it’s very frustrating so i often avoid the subject entirely lol.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

i’ve been writing fanfic in my head since before i knew what it was, but i started typing things at around 11 when i used to homestuck roleplay with my friends lol. messy messy times.

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh i am my own target audience. i have several.

i need a man (who’s patient and kind): keith-centric post canon (divergence) fic where lance takes him to his family and keith is good with kids and just keith being loved is the whole point. always.

what if i lose it all: an alternate universe where lance, as a baby, loses both his parents, and then is raised by his oldest siblings. in luis’ pov.

when does a ripple become a tidal wave (when does the reason become the flame): brogane fight & angst canon divergence post season 6; covering shiro’s guilt complex and keith’s unwavering loyalty

he’s into superstitions (black cats and voodoo dolls): halloween verse with witch lance and vampire keith! i have barely spoken about this au on here but rest assured i’m thinking about it all the fucking time

the applebee’s universe: modern au with young keith and lance learning how to love each other

ceilings (plaster): non-linear dream-like fic that’s just so trippy and strange i’m obsessed with it

if the sky comes falling down (for you) there’s nothing in this world i wouldn’t do: a keith character study about how the biggest bleeding heart in the universe loves

the hana universe: brogane-centric universe as their family starts rocky and grows

thank u again for the tag zen <33 open offer for anyone else who would like to hop on!!

[jacqcrisis]

Hello! Sorry if you're tired of talking about your older writing instead of the current works which I also love, but I wanted to say I love your characterization(s) of Charon throughout your work and I was wondering if you had any tips on understanding his character's core/just how to write him true to form?

Listen. Listen. I can talk about Charon all day. I love him. I have other hades AUs I haven’t even talked about on here that I think about often to this day and if I ever get the itch, they will be written.

And that’s very kind of you to say. Idk if I write him true to any form, but I am extremely anal about keeping characters as in character as possible. Or at the very least, as believably in character as I can. When I plan on writing a character for a longer fic, whether AU or not, I usually try to find out everything about them and break them down to the bone before building it back up. What is in canon that I can use to build back a believable skeleton that is fleshed by what I can infer from the bones underneath?

So core character concepts for Charon that are in canon that I use:

Greedy - he likes him gold and him stuff. No matter what universe you are writing in, this is one of, if not, the biggest driving factor for any job or hobby he has. He wants money, he likes money, and he knows how to make money.

Protective - of his things, his lifestyle, and the people he cares about. He’ll fight Zagreus, who he likes, if he touches his shit. One of the few emotions you can get out of him in game is anger at possibly uncovering his ‘thing’ with Hermes. He keeps Persephone’s location a secret (thereby protecting her) because either he cares for her or because Nyx does and Charon cares about his mom.

Difficult to discern - in part because he’s a big spooky skull man whose face you can’t see and who doesn’t talk, but it also seems to be mostly on purpose. Charon can communicate, given what other characters know more about him, but he specifically chooses not to. What you come to know about him, you find out through context clues, what other people say, and your own sleuthing which leads to-

Extremely private and disinterested in other people’s opinions about him - to the point, he doesn’t care what the GODS THEMSELVES think. All of them think he’s vile and nasty (save for Hermes). The people he’s close with know the kind of person he is, and that’s what matters. On top of that, he has his secrets, and he keeps them hidden, one of these secrets being who he is as a person. 

Independent - Nyx states she doesn’t worry about him because he’s extremely good at doing his own thing and he likes it that way, unlike her other failsons. His intentions are all on his own, and he doesn’t answer to anyone; not her, not Hades, not the gods, only himself. If he is helping someone, it is for his own reasons (maybe because he cares, probably because of money, possibly because Hermes asked).

Clever - He’s literally the head of an underground smuggling ring in game. Like this man knows how to do shit, make money, and get away with it. He’s capable of thinking many steps ahead, and able to plan for the long con.

Methodical - He's got his routine. He rows his boat. He counts his coin. He's mans his shops. He does things his way. He has his methods and he sticks to them.

Patient - that one's a gimme. He’s older than most of the gods and paddles a ferry around at the pace of molasses and doesn’t speak and does nothing to really speed Zagreus’ plight along. Clearly he understands and practices patience. 

Good Fighter - he’ll beat your ass.

Asexual (of some kind) - Aphrodite directly states she can’t get to Charon as he only ‘lusts after coin’. He is immune to machinations of the goddess of sex and beauty. But not the god of merchants, clearly.

A Gentleman - by Hermes’ opinion. Hermes really likes Charon. Please say hi to him for Hermes because- 

Charon Really Likes Hermes - no matter what you think is going on between them, if it’s just friendship, or professional associates, or he’s in love, this is canon. He ignores everyone at the party for Hermes and vice versa. He’s very protective of the thing they have going on. He specifically lets Hermes into the Underworld far enough that Zeus can’t sense him anymore. Hermes hangs out in his shop. Hermes boon is THE MOST EXPENSIVE ONE AT HIS LAST SHOP NO MATTER WHAT. I cannot stress how much Charon gives Hermes a pass and how much Hermes seemingly knows about him despite the other core concepts listed above I just- I- AH

Anyways, from those bones, you can start to infer and build back a believable version of the character for whatever you are writing. Is he kind and thoughtful? Probably, given how the people who know him talk about him. Is he loyal? Given how he acts in regards to his inner circle, you could say yes. Does he have a temper? Probably not, given he doesn’t care much about other people’s opinions nor reacts very much to anything in canon save for very specific circumstances. Is he lonely? Probably, on some level considering he’s alone all the time and how protective he is of his buddy, etc, etc, etc. 

The bones justify what you are putting on top of them and with that, for whatever thing you're writing, you can build up a believable version of a character. Even in the most extreme of AUs, like in the 70’s and on a beach in America or maybe in a dnd type universe where a character might be a lich for…reasons, as long as the core concepts are in place and every decision or authorial deviation from canon the characters make stem from those, it will be fine.

[1moreff-creator]

(03) David Chiem - First Trial (DRDT - Milgram AU)

IMPORTANT: This had to be reposted due to technical issues (it wasn't showing up on tags). There were two votes on the original before I privated it to avoid confusion. Please check you've voted if this disclaimer wasn't there when you first saw the post.

Another entry in this crossover AU! This time David, with his VD Nebula, and his MV Star in the Night! Wait. David… MV? David MV? Oh God no not again I don’t wanna go back no-! (/joke) 

Thumbnail:

So for the content warnings, you know what, I’ll just make an universal list of all the content warnings I think the AU will need, hopefully I don’t miss anything. So, here are the universal CWs! Not all of them apply to David, but I do this to prevent sorta spoiling things in the CWs. In no particular order:

Universal CWs: Violent murder, suicide, self-harm, stabbing, strangling, poisoning, gun violence, fire, child abuse, animal death, bullying, road accidents, betrayals, transphobia, mass death, conspiracy to harm.

By the way, important note: when I originally made the Undercover post, I fucked up with his kill-shot. The victim was supposed to have one shoe off, and I forgot to mention it, oops. I’ve edited it, but  just in case you hadn’t seen the edit, keep that in mind. 

Voice Drama: Nebula

(Why is David so hard to write send help. Hope he's not too ooc)

*Footsteps*

Es: Hi!

David: Hello there! My name is David Chiem. A pleasure!

E: And I’m Es! Nice to meet you, David!

D: I hope you don’t mind me asking, but you are the Warden of Milgram, right?

E: That’s right! Why do you ask?

D: Well, I wanted to know if I could bring certain… issues, to your attention. After all, you are an authority figure here, from what I understand.

E: Oh! Of course! Is there something wrong? Are any of the other prisoners causing you trouble?

D: Oh, no! Nothing like that. It’s just, well. See, you’ve claimed every person here is a murderer, right? 

E: That’s right, yeah.

D: Well, it seems there’s been a mistake. But don’t worry! I won’t hold it against you!

E: A mistake? What do you mean?

D: Well, how do I put this? I… have been wrongly imprisoned, you see. I’ve never… killed anyone.

E: Huh, really? You know, it’s funny. You’re not the first to say that.

D: Oh? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were other innocent people here. But it’s fine! Mistakes can be corrected. It’s not difficult to change, if you’re willing to!

E: … Is that so? You know… you seem pretty calm about all this.

D: Hm, I guess you could say that. But it’s just who I am. See, I try to be as positive as I can, since I know there's a lot of people that don't get the privilege. 

E: Really now? And you don’t think a situation like this merits being at least a little bit worried?

D: Ah, I guess so. I…am worried, deep down. But being negative can only make things worse, right? When it feels like everything else is against you, the least you can do is help yourself. 

E: Hm…

D: A lot of the people here are extremely distressed, understandably so. And I have to think, well, these people might have bigger issues than me, yes? I live a pretty good life, I can look forward to returning to it whenever this all blows over. So it’s my responsibility to keep morale high! 

E: Alright…  And what does your life look like that you are seemingly so content with it?

D: Want to count my blessings, huh? Well, let’s see. Although I’m an only child, I have a good relationship with the rest of my family, and I have good connections with people outside of it as well. I consider myself talented, there are some things I’m quite good at! I am quite wealthy thanks to my work as a professional inspirational speaker, so I don’t have any financial concerns. In fact, one of the other murderers even recognized me!

E: Oh! What a coincidence!

D: Yeah, right? I was surprised too-

E: So why did you call them a murderer? 

D: *Sputter* I’m sorry?

E: You said they were “one of the other murderers.” I thought you said you believed some of the others could have been wrongfully imprisoned? I would imagine someone as positive as you would only want to assume the very best, right? 

D: *Sharp breath*

E: *Slightly smug* Not to mention, “other murderers?” I thought you hadn’t killed anyone, David.

D: Yes, that’s right! I’m- I’m sorry, it was a slip of the tongue. 

E: Is that really it? You seem nervous about something. 

D: *Nervous chuckle* Didn’t you tell me I should feel worried about my situation? But now you’re suddenly concerned with a bit of stress over false accusations. *Fake-sounding chuckle* You’re giving me contradictory information, Warden!

E: *Cheery* Well, at that point you hadn’t revealed you knew you were a murderer! 

D: Huh? What do you mean, know I’m a murderer?

E: Well, sorry! But you are a murderer.

D: … Are you- Are you serious? I make one little mistake, just misspeak once, and you immediately assume the worst?

E: …

D: You know, things like this have happened before. People like to pretend I’ve said things I haven’t said, misinterpret actions and statements… That can hurt people, you know? 

E: …

D: Just jumping to conclusions… all of you are the same. You hear only what you want to hear, and then decide I’m a murderer just because I misspoke-

E: No, that’s wrong.

D: …What?

E: I don’t think you’re a murderer just because of what you said. I just never believed you from the start. Again, sorry!

D: … Excuse me?

E: You are a prisoner in Milgram. That is all the proof I need to know your actions have led to someone’s death. Because of that, when you told me you weren’t a murderer, I knew there were only three options.

D: … Do enlighten me, please.

E: One option is that you are mistaken. Maybe you don’t consider what you did murder, when in the eyes of Milgram, it could be judged as such. The second is that you were lying to yourself, in an attempt to protect yourself from your actions.

D: …

E: The third is that you were lying to me.

D: …

E: That Freudian slip of yours was enough to tell me you do consider yourself a murderer. So you’re not mistaken, and you’re not lying to yourself. Therefore, you must have been lying to me!

D: … I see. 

E: So you admit to it?

D: … Admit to it? Admit to what? Your reasoning only works if you assume this accursed prison can’t get things wrong, which is just delusional. 

E: Perhaps you feel that way. Except, I know you don’t, since you consider the others murderers as well. 

D: Will you just-?! *Deep breath*

E: Listen, David. I’m not mad at you. I understand your murder must have been traumatic-

D: I didn’t- 

E: But lying and hiding it all isn’t going to help you here. I will find out the truth anyways, so being honest is probably your best bet!

D: Being- *Mix between a chuckle and a short wheeze* Do you even know what you’re asking me to do?

E: I don’t think I’m asking too much! Just tell me what you did and-

D: You really don’t understand anything, huh? 

E: … Your eyes…

D: Oh? Are the stars gone? Yeah, they do that.

E: N-Nevermind that. What do you mean I don’t understand anything?

D: … Well. How do I put this? I can’t have you- You shouldn’t be allowed to know everything about my life, right? What gives you the right to invade my privacy? Nothing! 

E: That’s unfortunate for you, then! I will find the truth, whether you like it or not.

D: … *sigh, his voice is filled with poison* You really are arrogant, huh? 

E: … And you aren’t really as positive as you say, right? 

D: …

E: David?

D: Ah! Apologies. It seems I was losing track of myself there. I apologize if I said something hurtful.

E: *Sputter* The stars-

D: In any case, if I may, I’ll once again state. Nothing I've ever done could be considered murder, and I wholeheartedly believe that.

E: But that's a lie.

D: Perhaps. But, you see... If you do find the truth…

E: …

D: Then you might as well just kill me on the spot!

*Machinery whirs*

E: Huh? Wait, what do you mean?

D: Oh, it seems the extraction process starts now, right? That’s unfortunate.

E: Wait, I still have questions! I just need more time!

D: Ha… well, we all want what we can’t have, I guess. 

E: Huh? 

D: Ah! Sorry, maybe that came off a bit depressing. In any case, I want to leave you with one last message, a quote from Shakespeare’s Othello. 

E: What are you-

D: “To mourn a mischief that is past and gone is the next way to draw new mischief on.”

E: Huh?

D: "Holding grudges and focusing on the past will only lead to misfortune." It is better to focus on the future and-!

E: Are you serious?! Stop trying to convince me into not doing my job! It’s not going to work.

MonoTV: Well, it sorta is! Why are you taking so long? We’re on a schedule here. 

D: *Chuckle*

E: Urgh…

E: Prisoner 03, David Chiem, sing your sins!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trial 1 Cover: Magical Girl and Chocolate by PinnochioP

(Listen I saw the chance to play into the magical girl joke and had to do it)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Music Video: Star in the Night

(By the way, I reference Chinese tally marks quite a bit, so here they are for reference. Also to clarify they are used in other countries but I'm calling them that because their origin is Chinese (from what I understand I hope I'm not getting this too wrong), I don't know if there's a better term for them, sorry)

(I also call out real books by name, which I hope isn’t too immersion breaking, but I felt it was fitting considering who we’re dealing with lol. Now the song)

[The music sounds like a pretty standard “inspirational” pop song. Think Firework by Katy Perry]

[David speaks the first few lines]

Welcome ladies, gentlemen, and everyone else! It’s the start of another wonderful day! Let us make the most of it! I hope you can trust me when I say, It will all be alright

The video starts on a shot of an empty stage, the front row seats barely visible around it. In the center stands David, who looks small in comparison to the stage. Several spotlights shine on him, his arms out beside him. He’s wearing his canon outfit (pre-CH2 EP11), as well as a white domino mask with golden highlights (the one from the thumbnail) over his eyes. He also wears a pin on his right, which looks like a pink camellia. A red dot is visible on the top left of the screen, alongside the word REC.

The camera slowly zooms in, and David puts his left hand over his chest as he continues talking. He smiles wide and bright as the opener ends, and the camera glitches.

[Now he starts singing. I’m still basing this off Firework tbh]

Waking up again, Watching the sun rise, (I) Another brand new start, Another breath of air! (II)

(I) We get a shot of David sitting up on a bed with a deep blue blanket decorated with stars. The walls are grey, but there’s a window with purple curtains in the background, which lets in sunlight. His head is off frame, but he’s reaching up towards it with his left hand. There’s a nightstand off to the left. On it we see a simple lamp, a photograph frame (the photograph is obscured), and a phone with a blue case. There’s a grey circle visible in the top left of the screen. 

(II) We zoom in on the phone, the grey circle at the top right still visible. The phone screen lights up with a message. 

Edward W. 

Good morning. Remember we signed an agreement for an advertisement with…

After that message arrives, David’s hand appears on screen and grabs the phone.

Burning ever bright, the passion for your life. (I) Don’t ever put it down, And hope will never drown! (II)

(I) We’re back at the stage, the same scene as before, but now we’re looking at David’s back. The seats for the audience are visible, and on them sit a bunch of grey figures with no discernible features. The circle at the top left is red again, and once more the REC word appears next to it. 

(II) Grey circle again, as we switch to a scene with a pure white background. A hand with the following bracelet appears from the top right, holding the white domino mask.

(Please pretend that's not the shittiest image ever made)

Another, smaller hand appears from the bottom left, grabbing the mask and taking it off screen. 

[Pre-chorus, the instrumental builds]

See a quasar that now spins Emitting hope, emitting dreams! (I) The center, truly irrelevant When the light is all we see! So- (II)

(I) Grey circle. Back to a front-facing shot of David, who is holding the mask with his right hand. The shot starts with the mask covering the screen, but David swiftly brings the mask closer to him. His eyes lack stars. His expression is neutral-to-dead inside, and he looks down at the mask for a few seconds. 

(II) He takes a breath. Then, he brings his head down at the same time he brings the mask up, covering his face with his hand. He holds that position for a moment, and as the song says “light”, spotlights begin shining on him. At the same time, the circle turns red with REC again. When the “so” plays, David brings his hand up and we zoom in as he points to the sky.

[Chorus!]

Tally up the good things like dots in the sky! (I) You’ll find there’s always hope if you’re willing to try! (II) And even when you feel that you’re lost in the dark, (III) Then I offer my advice, allow me in your heart And then let me be your star in the night! (IV)

(I) Thumbnail image, except the tally symbols start off as yellow dots that look like stars before turning into the tally symbols we see in said image. 

(II) David continues singing, but we get different angles to make the shots a bit more interesting. 

(III) Front-facing shot of David again. His right hand is over his chest as he sings with a slightly less enthusiastic smile. The stars in his eyes fade out. When the song says “dark”, there’s a quick flash to another scene. The background is now black instead of blue, and while David is standing in the same position, his appearance is a bit different. Hair clips off, messy hair, tie undone, black circles around his pupils. He’s wearing a black and blue domino mask, similar to the other one he was wearing before. The pink camellia pin has disappeared, but now he’s wearing a black rose pin on his left. He looks vaguely frustrated. The circle is grey.

(IV) After only a moment, we’re back to the previous scene, and David continues singing as the camera slowly zooms out. Just as the chorus ends, the camera glitches a bit. We see this for a moment:

(Okay so there was an image here, but it gets the post shadowbanned for unknowable reasons. I'll just put the image description here:

"David stands neutrally, with his white mask outfit. He's in front of a green screen on a grey wall. It looks as if he's being recorded by a camera which shows things such as the time of recording, the camera battery, the pixel size, etcetera. Red REC circle on the top left.")

Then, the camera suddenly goes dark with a bright flash at the center, as if it had been turned off.

[More spoken words]

There will be times in your life, when you feel that (I) you don’t have anything worth living for. (II) This will always be false. (III) Let me tell you some, uh, paraphrased quotes from books I like, which help me maintain a positive attitude! (IV)

(I) We see David from a POV to his right. He’s sitting on a comfortable looking blue and yellow chair as he talks with a calm smile, wearing the white mask and pin with the red REC circle visible. He’s in a small room, with star decorations hanging from the ceiling. On the blue walls, there’s a poster of David (white mask and all) holding a book with a big smile on his face, alongside some unreadable text. The book has David's face on the cover.

(II) The screen glitches, and we’re now looking at David from the left. He’s still sitting on a similar chair, except it’s black and purple. He’s back to his bed-hair, black mask, dark circles around pupils, black rose pin costume. He’s smirking as he talks. The background is completely black, but the circle is still red with REC. 

(III) Screen glitches again, and we’re back at the same scene from (I).

(IV) We’re now in a different room, with a wooden floor and blue walls decorated with stars. Red circle with REC. The back of David’s head covers most of the screen, a hand with the same bracelet as before on his shoulder. In the background, there are four blurry, white silhouettes of people.

[Back to singing]

One: (I) Being harmed by cotton wool, Happiness scares the weak (II)

(I) We see a grey background with a horizontal line glowing bright yellow in the middle. There is a small table in the foreground, which shows a book with a pink cover and a black silhouette on front. The side reads “No Longer Human.”

(II) Red REC circle. We see one of the white silhouettes, with long hair, holding up a daisy flower as David (white mask) gives a thumbs up with a wide smile. The background is completely blue.

Two: (I) Our doubts, traitorous Make us lose what we may win (II)

(I) Same grey background as before, but now the glowing symbol in the background is the Chinese tally mark for 2. “No Longer Human” is still there, but now there’s a book standing next to it. It’s orange and has a scale on the front, alongside the words “Measure for Measure.”

(II) Grey circle. The screen is split in two. On the left, David without his hairpins (post-reveal hair), but also without a mask, is staring blankly at his phone. The background has the grey walls and purple curtains from his bedroom. On the right, we see someone in a suit with a pin which looks exactly like David’s hairpins accepting money being handed to them by a white silhouette. The white silhouette has similar pins on their other hand. The background there is blue.

Three: (I) Time and the hour, Run through even rough things (II)

(I) Same scene with the books, but now the symbol is the Chinese tally mark for 3 and there’s a new addition. A book with a red cover with a skull and a crown, labeled “Macbeth.”

(II) We see a white silhouette with short hair slouched over on a desk, in a dark room. They’re looking at a computer screen showing David’s white-masked, smiling face. The circle isn’t visible in its usual spot, but it’s on the computer screen, red with REC. The desk the computer is on has discarded candy wrappings all around the keyboard, as well as a white mug with a yellow star drawn on it.

Four: (I) Time soothes sorrows,  Be content you have known me. (II)

(I) Book shot. The symbol is now the Chinese tally mark for 4. Apart from the books which were already there, there’s now a white book off to the side, with a small, stylized drawing of a person with blond hair and green clothes standing on a grey sphere. We can barely see the words “The Little Prince.”

(II) Another white silhouette in a blue background, a book with David's face on the cover beside them. Red REC circle. The silhouette is on the floor, their hand outstretched towards (white-mask) David, who is leaning down over them and offering them a hand with a placid smile. It looks as if David is trying to help them stand up.

Five: (I) There’s relief when you know, You won’t carry burdens, see…

(I) The same scene as before, except all the books are gone. The symbol in the background is the Chinese tally mark for 5. On the table stands a book with a dark cover showing a big house, with the title “And Then There Were None.”

(II) We see David’s face (white mask, but hair undone), with a smile that doesn’t reach his (starless) eyes, as he accepts his usual hairpins being handed to him by a hand with the previously shown bracelet. 

[Pre-chorus]

And there is so much, so much more (I) So many reasons to carry on (II) Even when the world’s against you You just have to find your hope! (III) So (IV)

(I) Back to the scene with the comfortable looking chair for a moment. Red REC circle again.

(II) Grey circle. We see David’s back (post-EP11 hair) as he looks out the window of his bedroom, which shows a pitch black sky, the purple curtains framing the shot. 

(III) David walks off frame, but his reflection remains still on the window. It’s David with the black mask outfit, smirking. 

(IV) Screen glitches, and the window disappears, but David (black mask) is still there, on a black background. The circle turns red with REC, and spotlights begin shining on him. 

Tally up the good things like dots in the sky! (I) You’ll find there’s always hope if you’re willing to try! (II) And even when you feel that you’re lost in the dark, (III) Then I offer my advice, allow me in your heart (IV) And then let me be your star in the night! (V)

(I) David (still black mask, black rose pin, black circles around pupils, no hairpins and post-CH11 hair) points up, the camera zooms in on his hand. It quickly goes back to showing his full upper body, he’s still smirking. The background remains completely black, but the circle is still red with REC.

(II) We zoom in a bit. David tilts his head and rolls his eyes behind his mask.

(III) We change to the back of David’s head. We see the four white silhouettes on the black background, looking as taken aback as silhouettes can look. 

(IV) Screen glitches, we see a side shot of white mask David holding his hand out with a bright smile. Screen glitches again, now black mask David is standing in the same position.

(V) We see this:

[There’s a small guitar solo, as the music suddenly switches to a very fast-paced rock style instrumental. David can be heard laughing]

Still with his black mask outfit, David sits down on the same comfortable looking purple and black chair from before. He’s laughing.

[The next lines are sung very quickly]

One: (I)  I wonder, does it make me a villain… (II) Two: (III) If I choose to discard the ideal? (IV) Three: (V) Should I regret what is true now? (VI) Four: (VII) Is it my fault? Does it make me inhuman? (VIII) Ah… hahaha! … (IX) “Correct” (X)

(I) Back to the grey background with a table in the foreground. We again see a horizontal line glowing bright yellow in the background, but now there’s a withered daisy laying on top of the table.

(II) Screen is split, the circle is gone. To the left, David (black mask) has his mouth open in a smirk as he points to his head in a finger gun gesture. There is blood on his hand. To the right, we see the long haired white silhouette’s head laying on the ground with their head turned to the side, a splatter of a pink liquid under it. 

(III) Grey background with Chinese tally mark for 2 glowing. The withered daisy is still there, but now there’s also a broken pin beside it which looks very similar to David’s.

(IV) Screen is split again. To the right, a side shot of David holding his now bloodied neck with both hands, again with a big smirk. To the left, another white silhouette laying on the ground, face down with their hands to their sides, and without any pink liquid visible.

(V) Chinese tally mark for three on the grey background. Alongside the withered daisy and the pin, we see the broken pieces of a white mug with a star drawn on it.

(VI) In the bottom left, a shot from David’s left, where he’s giving a thumbs down with a bloody hand, the blood still on his hands and neck. On the top right, another white silhouette laying on a pool of pink liquid on the ground, their limbs bent in unnatural positions. 

(VII) Chinese tally mark for 4 in the grey background. Alongside the other objects, we see the book with David's face. It’s completely drenched in water, several pages ripped out and strewn around the table.

(VIII) To the right, a side shot of David pinching his nose, still smirking. On the left, another of the white silhouettes lays on the ground with their head tilted to the side, again without pink liquid.

(IX) We see David’s upper body as he stands up and cackles, throwing his arms out to the sides. As the laugh trails off, the screen glitches. David changes a bit. His hairstyle turns into his pre-Ch11 hairstyle, but he doesn’t have the hairpins. His eyes have neither stars nor dark circles around the pupils, though he does have eyebags. He’s not wearing a mask or a pin, and his tie is undone. He’s looking at the camera with a horrified expression. The grey circle returns. The screen fades to black as the laugh fully disappears and there’s silence for a moment.

(X) An image fades in from the black. It’s the same table from before, but lit more dimly. The grey background shows the Chinese tally symbol for five written in blood. The only thing in the table is the bracelet, stained with blood.

[Bridge, the instrumental slows down again]

Count up my mistakes, like stars in daylight.  You will find “me” again, if you’re willing to try. And even when it feels it’s all lost to the dark (I) Then I beg you, I beg you… (II)

(I) Screen fades in again, and we see David standing in the stage from chorus one. Grey circle, no spotlights. The shot is zoomed out, so David’s face is impossible to see, but his arms are to his side neutrally, and his head is tilted down. His hairpins and chest pins are missing, and his tie is undone. There is a stool next to him, the white mask laying on it. 

As he stands still, words appear behind him, slowly rising from the ground and scrolling to the top of the screen. 

CREDITS

Main cast:

Chiem D. 正 Williams E.

Producers:

Chiem D. Williams E. MILGRAM

Script-writing:

Williams E. Chiem D.

Camera Operator:

Chiem D.

Original Idea:

Chiem D.

Special Thanks:

Background Characters:

As the credits scroll, David brings his hands to his chest and fumbles around a bit. When he moves them away, his tie is now done correctly and his pink camellia pin is back up. He then takes something out of his pocket, and brings his hands to his hair. After removing the hands, his hair pins are back up. 

(II) Right as “Background Characters” appears on screen, we cut. Zoom in on the white mask on the stool, and David grabs it. Shot switches to David’s face, his eyes closed and mouth pressed in a thin line. He slaps the mask on his face, and quickly swipes his hand up. As he does, his mouth twists into a big smile, the circle turns red with REC, and the spotlights begin shining on him again.

Tally up the good things like dots in the sky!  You’ll find there’s always hope if you’re willing to try!  And even when you feel that you’re lost in the dark, (I) Then I offer my advice, (II) allow me in your heart (III) And then let me be your star in the night! (IV)

(I) The camera zooms out slightly to show David’s upper body, as he points up. The credits behind him now start scrolling backwards (top to bottom). He’s singing cheerily, but there are no stars in his eyes. Right as he says “lost in the dark”, the credits fully disappear from the screen.

(II) Cut to the ‘正’ symbol, written in blood, on a grey wall. Grey circle. 

(III) David’s hands appear on frame, holding a mirror with a golden frame. He puts it over the ‘正’ symbol, covering it completely. In the reflection, we see white mask David frowning at the mirror with starless eyes. 

(IV) Screen glitches, and we’re back to the same screen as before (white mask - no stars - spotlights - red REC circle - stage). David finishes singing, but he’s still breathing quickly.

[Instrumental begins to wind down]

The camera zooms out as David continues breathing heavily.

Let me be your star in the night!

The camera fades to static before suddenly cutting off.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MonoTV: On the topic of inspirational speaking, do you need any encouragement?

Es: Uhm, I guess it couldn’t hurt?

M: Too bad! I’m not gonna be nice to you! 

E: Who are you talking to again? 

M: The only encouragement I’ll ever give you is when it comes time to cast your verdict. And speaking of that, it’s… g

VOTING TIME!!!

[operation-penguin]

So I was looking up why the heck would KJ leave his beloved peeps to join the zoo (cuz I didn’t really understand that as a kid either) and I found a lotta explanations but this one struck me??

Now am confusion

So among the fandom the general opinion is that tpom is a separate universe, an au of sorts.

ahkj and the movies (+specials) can all be reasonably fit into a timeline, but tpom just can't be put anywhere. During the first movie, the penguins want to escape so why would they go back to the zoo in tpom? Also, they don't meet King Julien until they arrive at the island, there's no it could take place before the movies. Also also there's no way King Julien could have left Madagascar (unless Timo or smart Mort helped him, but why would they do that lol) until the penguins met him.

Something that always struck me is the use of language while referring to the gods in the lemur's pantheistic religion. During ahkj they are the "sky gods" and the movies (if I remember correctly) simply just "gods". But in tpom they're only referred to as "sky spirits", and although "god" and "spirit" are used in the same way I think it's worth pointing out as it's another thing to add to the list of discrepancies. So with those 2 points in mind, it's a reasonable assumption to say that tpom is separate from the main timeline. Different voice actors could also be taken into account but that's more meta, so I'll leave that up to you if you want to count that as major point number 3.

In my opinion, the multiverse theory seems to be the most logical interpretation, especially with the knowledge of a multiverse already being cannon in both tpom and ahkj.

With that said I do not like it, my head cannon (aka the timeline I used for my fic) goes as follows: AHKJ -> mada 1, 2, 3 (+specials) -> tpom (tpom movie is not real I am ignoring it). Basically everything is the same as cannon, except at the end of mada 3, KJ and friends have no idea how to get home and the penguins just kinda go "aw fuck it, let's make out base at the zoo." And since the penguins are staying King Julien, Maurice, and Mort (the sweetest baby boy sugar bottom sweet pea angle), all are stuck in New York and just decided to make the best of it. This could also explain why King Julien is more of a cunt in tpom. I love him but he's more problematic than Mort, the way he's written is so ignorant and uncaring compared to ahkj. It could be argued that unlike ahkj he's not the main character, but to me it feels so dramatically different. His shift in personality could be due to loss of control of his life, he simply cannot return to his peeps, so now he's bitter and has just accepted the zoo life. This of course also effects Maurice and Mort, but more so Maurice who is treated less as a friend and more as a servent (not always tho, they still have sweet moments), Mort is basically treated the same in all versions of cannon.

But there's another inconsistency that needs to be addressed: the penguins of Madagascar movie (tpom movie). I'm at a loss with this movie. Not only is it my second least favorite (right under mada 3 for obvious reasons), but it makes no sense. Ignoring all my issues with it and focusing on lore, where the fuck does this fit in??

The wiki claims that it takes place after mada 3 but this doesn't track. The penguins are shown as kids and presented in this found family kind of light, which is sweet.... But they aren't themselves in my opinion. Skipper is way to much of a dumb ass, it's like he just can't be bothered to give a shit, they make private a fucking baby incapable of doing anything on his own until the end of the movie, and Rico/Kowalski are just there????? If you watch the first 3 movies and follow it up with tpom movie, none of the penguins behave the same. I just hate them so much in this film. Mada 3 and tpom movie fucked up everyone's personality. In mada 1-3 the penguins are shown as more of a military like squad, still found family but not as gushy and sugary sweet. Operation Penguin (game boy game from 2005 showing the events of mada 1 through private's pov) delivers a more accurate portrayal of these fucking birds than their own movie. They're just a group of 4 penguins that work together and love eachother but not in the big dramatic gushy way like tpom movie shows.

BUT WAIT. HAHAHAHAHAH. This isn't over. In Operation penguin, there are more inconsistencies. Gonna just make a list:

1. King Julien has no crown

2. Private is aware of at least one of his blood relatives (his father, Sam Fishy. Meaning Private's full name is "Private Fishy")

3. Private is sent to defeat the foosa ALONE

4. Maurice is missing, King Julien and Mort are the only 2 lemurs shown in the game

5. Kowalski ALSO knows at least one blood relative (cousin Jeffrey)

6. Number 2 and 5 imply that half of the penguins have memories of being in Antarctica. If private hatched on the iceberg in mada 3 he woULDN'T FUCKING KNOW WHO HIS DAD IS AND HE WOWULLF. RBD. GFH KS M EV B , ...,.ZZMS..E. E

In conclusion, any media that is Penguin centric can't fit into mainstream cannon, so believe whatever the fuck your heart tells you to. Most probable is that Movies + specials + ahkj, tpom, topm movie, and Operation penguin (and other games probably) are all parallel alternative universes only available to us through Mort's ability to transcend beyond one universe.

Btw Kowalski likes soap operas.

Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk.

[lilacthebooklover]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

@snarky-wallflower Thanks for the tag! This was a lot of fun :)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

67 currently, but I have deleted a few old ones lol

2. What’s your total word count?

Now, when I tell you I went overboard on this question, I went overboard. My private, unposted, solely-written-by-me fics' total word count is 227,868. My total word count for fics I've collaborated with @charismabee on is 477,549, and my total word count on AO3 is 389,530. However, quite a few of my AO3 fics are collabs with Red, so if you take away everything like Wilting Flowers and Owl House but Kindergarten, you're left with 225,235 words written solely by me. So, if you total up 225,235 + 227,868 + 477,549, then you get a grand total of 930,652 words! Then, of course, there's the whole matter of my old fics on regular Word and not Docs, which would probably add up to at least another 50,000 total considering we're talking about my ASOUE and DT17 phases, as well as all of the private Viva Pinata and miscellaneous musical stuff lurking in there, and we've got that weird writing app on my tablet that I used a lot a couple of years ago whenever my phone got confiscated, but I cannot be bothered to search through all of that right now. So, it mostly rounds up to around 1,000,000 words. Fanfiction may or may not be taking over my life. (Gosh I love maths <3)

3. What fandoms?

I've written mostly for the Kindergarten 1 and 2 fandom, my total fics on AO3 for it totaling 38. However, I have written a heck of a lot of OMORI as well, and dabble in the Owl House, DHMIS, a few webseries on YT as well as the Hatchetverse sometimes, too!

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

1. World's Okayest Uncle at 799. My latest WIP, written for the Hatchetfield Universe and based around the concept of Paul Matthews becoming the accidental uncle of every kid in town. Each chapter focuses on a different child (the three so far about Alice, Richie and Pete respectively), and once all of them have been sufficiently adopted, I've been considering adding some slice-of-life stuff, exploring the changed character dynamics, and looking into parts of canon that would change in the AU as well. 2. Hollow at 455, a Hunter-centric one-shot for the Owl House set immediately after season 2 finished. It was written in the post King's Tide craze of awesome Human Realm content, so it got quite a lot of hits at the time. It focuses on Hunter dealing with the aftermath of Belos seemingly having died, and himself having being thrown into a completely new, unfamiliar world as an unfamiliar God took over his own :) 3. Flapjacks at 279, another Hunter-centric piece because TOH fans can't get enough of him lol (I am very much one of those fans). I began writing it back when Thanks to Them was first released, then got the motivation to finish it after I saw Watching and Dreaming. It focuses on Hunter returning to the Human Realm after the Collector's defeat, as well as Camila's thoughts on being a parent of who knows' how many kids at this point. Hunter finally gets the chance to mourn, and finds out what a flapjack actually is. 4. Gravesfield Historical Society, at 275. In which it's only natural that the Boiling Isles' leading Human Expert decides to do some research, and Gus does his very best to ignore the images plaguing him from looking into Belos' mind. Vee looks for some closure, Hunter is very protective over his little siblings, and Gus just wants to have a fun day at the museum. Things... Don't go to plan. 5. Fading, at 215. Yet another TOH work (I was around when the fandom was active as heck), one of the shortest pieces I've ever written at only 722 words. It's from Flapjack's POV during that scene in Thanks for Them. You know the one. I made lots of people cry, and sacrificed the birb.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Of course!! I thoroughly appreciate every comment I receive; they really make my day. Being part of an active fandom with the Uncle Paul AU has sort of taken me by storm so my inbox is pretty clogged at the moment, but I promise that I have read and smiled over and will reply to the comments all of my lovely readers have left behind! It means so much that someone's not only taken the time to read what I've written, but that they liked it enough to leave a comment behind. Even just keysmashes or "<33"s are really lovely to see, so thank you to the wonderful commentors out there! You guys are awesome :D

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooh, now this is a tough one! Pretty much 95% of what I write is angst, with a good 70% being Hurt No Comfort. Still, I think the angstiest ending I've ever written would have to be that of either "Enough", in which 13 y/o me decided it was a good idea to follow the perspective of kindergartener Theodore Huxley as his brother pushed him to his death, or "Wilted", in which 13 y/o me decided it was a good idea to follow the perspective of suicidal kindergartener Lily as she gave up on finding the one person who cared about her and committed suicide as a result of being bullied. Wilted should probably win out considering the implications of what would happen to Billy as a result, and bc the ending subsequently led to Nugget's death too, but Ted's train of thought in Enough is so gosh darn sad.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely "McDonald's". That's the fluffiest thing I've ever written, no doubt about it. Not a smidgen of angst, just a bunch of kids with colourful eyes and pointy ears walking into a fast food restaurant and discovering what chicken nuggets are. It literally ends with the promise of more cute adventures to come, so I'd say this one's a no-brainer loll

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've only ever received hate once, on a little Gravity Falls AU I made entitled "Puppet Strings and Stage Curtains". I got some pretty nasty criticism on it and, as a kid who was still very anxious about posting stuff online, it really impacted me at the time. I'm still a little nervous even now to open up my inbox because I think I might have gotten another comment like that shfjdhhgkjh. I wound up abandoning the fic because my motivation was completely destroyed, and I couldn't even look at the thing without feeling ashamed. However, I haven't received any hate since, which is great! There's just no reason for it, really; if you like something, leaving a comment is wonderful, and it makes the author happy! If you don't, just don't read the fic. Leaving a hurtful comment isn't going to make anyone happy, and can be really damaging to writers. Shoutout to @weedkillercentral, who, without fail, leaves the bizzarest comments known to man on almost every work I post.

9. Do you write smut?

Nope! I am a ���minor✨ (@snarky-wallflower dw I too am a nerdy prude, sex jokes are Ew). Still, I do enjoy writing romance from time to time! Some ships are straight-up hard not to enjoy reading/writing for :))

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Funny story, actually. I used to have Wattpad and, as much as I hated using it, a friend of mine liked the site so I used it to support her. I wound up posting some of my own stuff on there at one point. I will never be able to get over the fact that when you searched up my username online, the images used to show a picture of Sharkbomb Glomgold. How do I know this? Because small me got bored and looked up my username, and accidentally found a mirror site to Wattpad with some of my stuff on. It credited my username and everything, but I panicked about it because as far as I was aware, I had no control over whether I could take it down or what else could be put on it. So, I deleted everything on my account, and just like that, the fics on the mirror site vanished. So no, I've never had anything outright stolen-- at least, I hope I haven't-- but that was a Not Fun experience for little me a few years ago

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, I'm not famous enough for that lol. I did have an offer for someone to make a podfic of smth I wrote a few years ago, but they never got around to it. Still, if anyone ever wants to translate one of my fics, I'd love it if you did! Please just let me know and acknowledge me as the OG author; having a work translated sounds awesome.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Many thanks yet again to the amazing @charismabee, my dear co-author and the Kel shirt to my Maverick cosplay wig. The amount of hours I've spent writing with her is actually insane, as well as the times we've just messaged brainstorming AUs or having far too strong feelings about the show Elena of Avalor. We've done joint Whumptobers and Febuwhumps, fics that are combinations of the nichest stories and characters, a lot of redemption arcs for 5-year-olds... If you like my stuff, I thoroughly encourage you to go give her work a read at TheFearIsRed on AO3! :D

If anyone else ever wants to try collaborating on something, I think I'd be willing to give it a try! There are loads of talented authors on here, and co-writing is a lot of fun <3

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Hmm... Well, Paulkins is an obvious one (remember that one post about "hatchetfield fans when normal man and his barista crush show up for 5 seconds"? yeah that's me). They have a level of mutual trust and understanding that's just really nice to explore, they both have issues galore but will support each other no matter what, half infected Paul content is golden and as an avid Uncle Paul truther, Emma finding out about his many children is just too funny a concept to me. They act like teenagers when they see each other, they're both down bad, she knows he doesn't like the Christmas advert jingles, he thinks she's funny,,, they're so <3

Another strong contender is Pearla (Penny x Carla), from the K2 fandom. @goldmoth82 was the one who got me into writing about them with their absolutely incredible stuff (art, fics, you name it!). They're just a traumatised android and a thieving arsonist, what more could you want?

Gold rush (Kel x Mikhael) is another of my favourites though, mostly because it's so funny. Mikhael has declared them rivals, and Kel could not care less. Mikhael challenges him to races, and Kel beats him easily. Mikhael insults him often, but Kel doesn't retaliate. Mikhael wants to be independent and special, to stand out from everyone else. Kel wants to be appreciated as more than just Hero's brother, to be liked and acknowledged as himself. Mikhael would vehemently deny his feelings until Daphne and Bowen tied them up together and forced him to confess. Rivals are just lovers in disguise, everyone. One-sided gold rush is even funnier, because they're technically one-sided rivals. Kel was Mikhael's homosexual awakening. Mikhael looks so dumb and flamboyant because he's trying to impress him. Mikhael claims he hates him and that his bright red face is from anger after Kel effortlessly beats him time and time again. I love them.

But I think out of everything, Wrightworth would have to take my top pic for favourite ship. Gay lawyers who would die for each other for the win.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

Ohh gosh. There are quite a few, but I'd probably say this year's Whumptober. My mental health went schwoop this October and I only got up to day 11 despite my plans. I still intend to finish the collab one with Red when I have time again (exams suck), and I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to get around to completing it. At least there's always next year! :"]

16. What are your writing strengths?

Definitely characterisation. I have a lot of fun getting into characters' heads and making studies on them in different scenes or just overall, and have a lot of fun bouncing different personalities off of each other. Once I know a character, I know the character, and writing their POV is as simple as breathing lol. I'd also say that I'm pretty good at tension building and breaking, as well as Hurt No Comfort (you need some good old angst, I'm your gal).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes, for one, though I've been improving on them since I started the TOH Kindergarten AU! I'd also say that I struggle with slower-paced, filler sort of stuff. I might like to build up to an event, but chapters that don't have plot relevance just sort of stump me lol, even when they're necessary :)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I enjoy learning languages, and have been teaching myself Spanish for the past couple of years or so. However, writing them is a whole separate thing entirely. If I had a translator, I'd be all good! I just get a little worried when I write any language that isn't Spanish because google translate is unreliable as heck, so I typically tend to avoid it. Luckily, none of my fandoms really require it- but if that Franziska & Miles brainrot doesn't go away soon, I might be in a bit of a pickle trying to write German dialogue hshjhgfk

19. First fandom you wrote for?

A Series of Unfortunate Events (the Netflix show). It was the first fandom I got really, properly into, diving in headfirst at the age of about 12 and finding a lot of awesome content. The obsession I had with VFDBaudelaireFile13's Violet Snicket AU "Misery Loves Company" a few years ago was wild. My writing back then was very jolty, and I wrote in chapters that only lasted a few paragraphs with big, bold titles that often had at least two exclamation marks at the end. Still, ASOUE is one of my favourite shows to this day, and I don't regret a thing from my time binge-reading everything I could find for it (except that one lemons fic I accidentally came across when starved for content), nor any of the silly little unposted AUs I wrote on Word.

20. Top 3 fics I've ever written:

I puzzled over this question for ages, but found it impossible to choose just one! Ignore that I'm cheating a little here, and take three instead <3

1. An unposted collaborative work with @charismabee/TheFearIsRed that we called MPT. It was the first big fic I ever wrote, and it was probably what really got me into writing as a hobby. I got to spend time at random intervals writing about and whumping my favourite characters with someone I'm very close with, making up the plot as we went along. I remember coming up with the initial idea on a swingset, and spending hours colour-coding every segment of those 50,000 words based on each mention of a character as well as who wrote what. MPT is messy, and a tad repetitive in places, and while finished, I don't believe it's something I'll ever post. But it holds a special place in my heart, and it's a lot of fun looking back on my writing from a couple years ago compared to now 2. Not sure if this fully counts, but an untitled Omori WIP I've got going atm is definitely up there. It's Hero-centric with huge emphasis on his trauma, following the course of the year the events of the game occur in. I've had a blast writing his thoughts and time at college, and I'm geberally just really proud of it thus far. Hopefully, it'll be done by January in time for his birthday! :) 3. Now this one is a posted work– Magical Girls: Omori!, another collab with Red. We came up with the idea, binge-watched season one of Glitter Force on Netflix, and ran with the plot. We've planned out all of season 1 with ideas for season 2, incorporated a plethora of great characters, and been able to mess around with a fun fantasy high school full of our favourites. It's always wonderful to write, and I really like how it's been going!

Thank you again to @snarky-wallflower for the tag! You're amazing <3

As for people I know, I've tagged the vast majority of you already sjhkffg oops.

@charismabee @goldmoth82 @weltato @inprisonforsparkling hey there jpr the au mastermind, fanartist of the century, paul whump bestie and king of michie. you guys are some of my favourite writers out there, i'd love to see what you answer with for this (no pressure ofc!) <33

[the-lost-writer]

Redemption Dark AU

(Part 2)

Sorry if this isn’t that good, this is my first AU for AB

Blurb

Stuck in a white box purgatory after his defeat by TSC, Dark sulks. He is the greatest, strongest, and most intelligent stick in the entire universe! And he is stuck here in this… well he isn’t quite sure where but he knows it cannot contain him forever, it’s just taking longer for him to escape without his powers.

One day (if you can even call it day) a glowing orb comes to him with an offer, an offer to get him out on one condition. Dark gladly takes the offer since he will be able to outsmart this being. After all, he is the most intelligent stick in the universe.

Apologies

Dark awakens with his face down in the mud. His head is throbbing and moving requires a Herculean effort. It feels like his brain has been liquified and is sloshing around in his skull. He winces as he stands up, holding his forehead.

*Ow my frickin’ head, what happened?* His memory gradually returns; He remembered being in the white box, trying to escape, then there was the irritating glowing nuisance-

Right, now he remembers. His lips curl in an evil grin. He’s free, and now that orb can’t stop h-

“HIYA!” The orb materializes in front of his face.

Dark flinches, not out of surprise of course, but because of the disgusting language the orb uses.

He folds his arms, puffs out his chest and fixes the orb with a glare.

“Do yah like your new body? I put a bit of flare on it, I hope that’s ok!”

*New body?* Dark looks down at himself and almost throws up. Every trace of his fabulous bright red hue has been replaced with a dark desaturated blue and the ends of the limbs fade to black. Surrounding his body is a white outline! White! Not at spec of his beautiful evil red anywhere!

“My body! What have you done to my body?!” Dark touches his face frantically. His face has been disfigured as well; where his circular hollow head used to be has been replaced be a generic head. He has been transformed beyond recognition, he is now just a *normal stick figure.* Darks blood starts boiling as he turns to the orb.

“Your name is Darkie right? So I made you dark!” The orb says in its typical gleeful voice.

“You… you ruined my beautiful body! And my face! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY FACE!?!” Dark lunges at the orb and throws a punch-

And he connects with the wall of the box.

“!#@%.” He swears as he shakes out his fist.

The orb is giggling hysterically.

“Now you have to apologize” it laughs.

Dark looks at the orb with a withering glare. He doesn’t like this anymore. He feels like a plaything to this seemingly omnipotent being. At the very least in the box he is back to his normal self.

“Come on Darkie-“

“MY NAME IS NOT DARKIE” he shouts in fury. “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! I AM THE DARK LORD AND YOU WILL SHOW ME SOME RESPECT! NOW RELEASE ME FROM THIS INFERNAL PRISON DAMN IT!!”

The orb is silent for some time.

After a few minutes Dark starts sulking. The puny god — if they are even a god — can’t take a simple command? Anyone would jump at the chance to serve him out of fear alone. That insufferable ball of light, it left him here after it promised him freedom! Now he has to live without his looks *and* powers. That double crossing-

“If I apologize will you apologize?” The orbs voice suddenly interjects from behind Dark.

Dark jumps up in surprise, almost throwing another punch.

“What? Why? What do I have to apologize for?”

“For trynna punch me of course.” The orb giggles.

“Fine. After this you will put me back right?” Dark huffs. He can’t believe he‘s agreeing to this.

“Abso-toot-ly!” *Barf.*

An idea forms in Dark’s head. “Does this count as a ‘good act’?” He asks smugly.

“No silly! Apologizing is just a normal thing to do” the orb teases him in a sing-song voice. His smugness is replaced with annoyance. The Dark Lord shouldn’t have to apologize for anything!

The orb inhales and speaks in a sad voice “I’m sorry for calling you Darkie.”

*I’m really going to have to do this, aren’t I?*

Dark tries to muster up all the fake kindness he can, taking an excessive amount of time to clear his throat. Finally he forces a smile and spits out what he can. “S-s-sore- sorrrre- suuhh-“ Dark grumbles some people obscenities and tries again. “Ssssoooorrrr… ARG, this is STUPID! Why is THE DARK LORD apologizing to a TALKING ORB?!”

“So you can be free from this place and get your powers back!” The orb chirps ‘helpfully.’

Dark grinds his teeth in an attempt not to punch the voice into next Sunday and tries again.

“Ssss- sssorr,” the orb is giggling at Darks struggle, “sorr… SORRY? SORRY! Ok I said it! Now put me back.” Dark finally spits out, ashamed that he has to do this.

The orb is pleased. “Yay! You did it! That wasn’t so hard now was it?”

Dark clenches his jaw but before Dark can retort he finds himself standing back in the forest. His head aches again but it’s not as severe now, so he is actually able to fully process his new body. He looks down at himself and only feels like gagging a little this time. He is gaunt, weak perhaps, and a little bit taller. Dark liked his old body, it was perfect; proper hight, the correct shade of evil red that made it perfectly intimidating. How is he supposed to intimidate anyone looking like a scrawny nobody?!

“I gotcha an apartment and a job as well!” the glowing light says, “So you can start living a normal life!”

What? A normal life?! The Dark Lord doesn’t live a normal life! He lives in his ominous fortress and crushes anyone that dares to oppose him! Not living in an apartment with noisy neighbour’s, and serving under someone else at a job no less! What kind of Dark Lord would he be if he lived a life like that?!

“What if I want to live in the woods?” Dark challenges in an attempt to foil the orb’s plan.

The orb just laughs. “That’s silly! You can’t live like that!”

Dark has to admit that was true, it would be even more humiliating for The Dark Lord to be living homeless, scrounging around like some sort of animal. If he had his powers back he could easily build an isolated cabin fit for his needs, but nooo he must do a good deed (ew) to be able to earn them back. He shouldn’t have to earn them back, they are HIS powers! They rightfully-

“You make a funny face when you think” the orb gleefully observes.

“What? N-no I-!” Dark splutters, shooting eye-daggers at the orb.

It just chuckles before exclaiming “Now let me show you your apartment!”

“Wait, hold on. How did you even get an apartment?” In retrospect this probably should’ve been his first question.

“Well I used your voice of course! It had to be a small apartment but I think it will work” the orb chirps and zips around his head.

“Lets-a-go!” It shoots off in the approximate direction of the city, leaving the desaturated blue stick standing in the middle of the forest.

Dark is completely stunned at what just happened. He… he died a horrible death what felt like a day ago, made a deal with a god to bring him back to life, and now he has to be a *good guy* to regain his powers and get back on track with world domination?

Dark growls. He has no powers, no technology to tinker with, no evil sidekick to do his bidding, this couldn’t end well, not at all. The orb, whatever it’s name might be, is just tormenting him for its own enjoyment, this cruel torture was going to be the end of him…

“Relax” Dark tells himself. “Its only for a little while.

He takes a deep breath before looking into the trees. He just has to bide his time, figure out how to outwit that glowing idiot, and maybe get some of his powers back in the meantime. Heck, if he gets enough of his powers back he might be able to outright kill the god. That seems like a good plan. Simple, not much can go wrong.

Hopefully.

Dark sighs sadly, thinking of all those glorious days filled with chaos and anarchy. With hope of world domination at the forefront of his mind, the rail thin stick figure follows after his guiding light.

Thanks for reading part 2 of this AU! The amount of likes I got on the last one encouraged me to post this part although I was pretty unsure about posting to tumblr. Thank you everyone!

And a special thanks to @thatonexman for being my co-writer and editor!

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[callowyn]

20 Questions for Writers

Tagged by @oakashandwillow

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 42...the perfect number

2. What's your total AO3 word count? just shy of 500k which is an insane number

3. What fandoms do you write for? >_> look. is the top fandom on my ao3 page supernatural: yes. am I still actively posting spn fic: technically also yes. but the incoherent scum villain tweets that don't make it onto ao3 are where my heart truly lies rn

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

#1 and #2 are the double header of Cumplane (Pairing), an in-universe meta for @cleromancy's threadfic, and Cumplane Forums AU, an archive of @flightlesscrowkids's communal threadfic that I shamelessly enabled. #5 on the list is also a scum villain chatfic, It's Fine Cause I'm Wearing Cat Ears, where shen yuan is still insane on the modern internet but this time binghe and liu qingge are there. thank you cucumber stans for your support and good taste.

#3 is my untamed big bang from these nettles, alms which I cowrote with @zorrosuchil (chengxian, but also wangxian and a lil tiny bit zhanchengxian, much to jiang cheng's disgruntlement).

#4 is my pacific rim reverse bang Our Blood in the Machinery in which raleigh becket is possessed, but joke's on you, he's into that shit.

5. Do you respond to comments? I try but unfortunately I often give myself the fake homework of needing to reply Meaningfully which means it simply does not happen

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? hmm probably the most it-didn't-have-to-be-this-way classic tragedy fic is The Dismemberment Song (the untamed, nieyao); the deadest dove is Jettison (pacific rim, hansens badtouch)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I was going to say Only Human but then I remembered the last chapter ends with one of the main characters announcing her imminent demise lmao so perhaps my cql fix-it of Waking / Rising

8. Do you get hate on fics? thankfully not, I don't think they get enough attention to have haters lmao

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? only for siblings

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? fandom fusions are my faaaaavorite to spitball. way back in the day I had grand plans for Merlispn which (as the name should make clear) was very silly

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge but cambionverse did once get cited in an academic paper

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? funnily enough one of my smallest and least-viewed spn fics, Driftwood, was translated into chinese!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? nearly all of them in fact! shout out to @thegeminisage and our series Cambionverse which is old enough to be in middle school now

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? I am a multishipper til death do us part ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? fuckin. Envesseled lmfao. ON GOD WE WILL POST THE LAST FIVE CHAPTERS I JUST DON'T KNOW WHEN

16. What are your writing strengths? *eye* think my own jokes are very funny hahaha and I love to write banter & arguments

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I can brainstorm plots all day long but executing upon them is So Hard

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? as a monolingual it is something I would do very sparingly if at all, and only if there wasn't another way to convey the same tone/emotion

19. First fandom you wrote for? the first thing I ever posted to ao3 was The Quest for Camelot which is found poetry from the merlin fic finders comm. before livejournal I did post a few things to ff.net but they are going with me to the grave

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? listen. I understand why it deals psychic damage for my followers to see supernatural content in the year of our lord 20 whatever. but read Cambion those are my kids