#frankly shocked i have power at all right now

[chamerionwrites]

[kithtaehyung]

minted: two (explicit) | myg

title: minted: two (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: one | masterlist rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, y’all. thank you so much for the love on this series already! it’s been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! note 2: as always, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma/pstd, poor reader :(((, but also YES READER???, tension to the max, inner turmoil, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeee… a ha ha, did i mention tension?, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn drop date: september 30th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.8k help me @ god

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There’s something to be said about the human gut. 

Not for being the source of multiple health aspects, nor the way it’s connected to the brain. 

But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.

Who is this person next to you? 

Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run? 

You don’t know if you release your hand or if Yoongi lets it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.

How can someone’s profile be so troublingly handsome? You’d be able to think more clearly if he wasn’t both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply weren’t on the verge of collapse.

Frankly, if you didn’t just murder a man you’d pass out as soon as you took too long to blink. 

To keep yourself alert—and to hopefully gather some much needed intel—you suddenly question aloud, “Where are we?”

No answer.

Alright.

“That driver called you Agust,” you recap on a second go. “What was that about?”

All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else he’s doing besides talking. 

Okay. Well.

You can face forward, too. 

“Those guys after us,” you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. “They didn’t look like Crane.”

“Doesn’t mean they weren’t.”

Your neck almost snaps when you turn. “Are you kidding me?”

As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you can’t believe he doesn’t agree. 

Mm. Does he?

From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume you’re right to some degree. Because it looks like he’s very, very bothered by the people that chased you down. 

If those weren’t any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbers…

What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?

Geez, it’s freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You can’t even appreciate the way Yoongi’s veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.

Lies. You absolutely can. But there’s no way in hell you’re ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you! 

Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too? 

But that taxi drive…

Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff. 

Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved. 

All you wanna do is go home, and you don’t even know where that is. 

How far did you travel? What district is this? You’ve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.

That brings up another question. “If we’re in a grey zone, how did you know—”

A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.

But the elevator doesn’t say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on? 

One thing’s for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if there’s only one bed you’re hogging it or taking the…

Floor…

There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling. 

But when the elevator doors slide open, you can’t even fathom what the fuck you’re dealing with. 

And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are. 

“Holy shit,” you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.

Don’t elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?

Forget a whole floor, it’s a whole other place.

You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.

The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like you’ve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?

How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home. 

And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors. 

Perfect.

“What.” 

You turn at the scrape of Yoongi’s voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, “Who… Who even are you? What is this place?”

He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. “There’s a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.” 

…Is that really his only response?

“That’s not what I asked,” you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.

“But it’s what you need.”

“Say what now?” 

The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket. 

But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends. 

This is all too much. 

“You know what I need? To go home,” you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. “Have a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.” 

You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.”

“You serious?”

“Yes, I am. So move.”

Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps aside—wait he’s gonna let you go that easily? 

…Oh.

That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isn’t one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than once—in mere hours—that he’s no regular civilian. 

But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization. 

No matter how you slice it, you’re much better off with him right now than you are by yourself. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun. 

He did keep you alive that whole chase.

But there’s the smallest, tiniest chance that you aren’t quite safe with him, either. You don’t even know who this man is anymore—maybe you never did.

So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.

Good. You don’t need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life you’ve chosen to lead again. 

Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done. 

And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again. 

Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal. 

Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you don’t, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back. 

No good. No good no good you didn’t plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance? 

You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room you’ll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic. 

Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; it’s obvious he doesn’t care so why should you? No going back now. You’ll figure it out. The doors are finally opening. 

And someone’s inside?

Wait.

Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.

Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a staff member, right? They wouldn’t be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches. 

However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire. 

Because you can’t do this alone. You aren’t nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not. 

You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse. 

And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongi’s stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions you can’t name.

Yeah, you fucked up.

Fuck. 

Fuck you actually made a big mistake go back don’t let the elevator close shit—

As you lunge for the door, you get your arm through to block it from closing, turning to the employee inside and seeing their expression change. 

What was that about?

“Sorry,” you blurt to their pressed and polished grey uniform. “I forgot something inside.”

“I can wait, Miss,” they immediately offer, to which you politely and cautiously decline. 

“No need.” When you step out of the elevator, something happens that you think about hours and hours later. “I’ll come down when I’m ready, thank you.”

You can suddenly breathe again. Why was it so stuffy in there?

The worker bows stiff. “As you wish.” 

Without pause, you nod, waiting until the doors close to face someone turned away.

Ugh. It’s like Yoongi knew you weren’t gonna leave. Either that, or he really didn’t give a crap about what you did at all.

Either way, fuck this guy and fuck your indecisive ass!

In full aggravation, you march through the entrance before grating out, “You’re lucky I—”

“Shower.”

“What?”

“The blood,” he calmly breathes. “If you’re gonna hit the streets, wash it out.” 

“It isn’t mine.”

“I know.”

Your mouth snaps shut. 

Fuck. Yoongi’s right. 

“Okay. Well,” you scoff, “Good point but how can I trust you to not do anything.” 

When he tilts his head with a bored, unamused, borderline ticked off expression, you almost scoff before he drawls, 

“Not interested.” 

Oh. He’s… 

Oh. 

But the taxi and the hand-holding and the the the kiss what the hell? Was your liplock not up to this Dragon’s standards? Why are you questioning something so trivial? 

The nerve. You plunge your shoulders in exasperation, hating how you chose to put yourself in another situation with this pain in the ass and he isn’t even… “I swear to—You know what? Good. Not interested, either.”

A lie. 

Scrambling, your stomach speaks the next sentence for you, “But there better be food when I come out cus you robbed me of lunch today. So do something about that.” 

Fucking hell you do not need his lips to quirk up so deliciously. That one look completely offsets what he just said and annoyingly tickles your core. 

Stop. Focus. You cannot entertain any of those thoughts so ignore him and find a bedroom. 

Opening the first door you can see, you continue your tirade, “And no more stealing my chopsticks.”

“Closet.”

Of course it’s a closet! Shutting it with force, you let out a high curse. “Who needs a closet here? Whatever, just—figure it out, I’m starving.”

“Yes, princess.”

You flick Yoongi off as you blaze down the hall, not even knowing nor caring if he sees or not. 

The next door works, and you shut him out before falling back onto its weight, so fraught with emotion that you can’t even register the appearance of the room. 

Today has aged you multiple years. So much has transpired ever since this afternoon that you can’t even think in straight nor curved lines. As soon as you remember something, another thought juts between. Why are you simultaneously thinking about dingy, stained floors while agonizing over Yoongi’s lips? Is there a place other than hell or heaven you can settle on? 

As soon as you’re physically and mentally patched, you are out of here. 

The plan is simple. Shower, eat, give this man a piece of your manic mind, then go home.

Although… It would be nice to at least know what’s in that duffle. If it’s something worth taking you could finesse a piece of the loot. 

Swallowing dry, you push yourself off the door and finally notice a flood of ambient light. 

At your side, you come across an expansive bathroom, eyeing the wall-to-wall entrance before taking in the center shower with disdain and awe.

The whole setup is lavish. 

Does the water just fall straight from the ceiling and into that large square tub? This looks nothing like your cramped, chipped one back home. There’s even lush plants lining the area and towels already folded nearby for use. 

Maybe you did get killed on the run and you’re in some type of dreamworld. 

Too bad you aren’t alone.

As you drag tired feet onto heated tile, you search for the shower knobs, realizing you have a whole panel to work with instead. 

Uhh. 

What. 

You quickly find that one button blows water like a hose straight from the top, scaring you so bad you jump. When you hastily try another, something whirrs in the floor that has your brows kissing—

“You good?”

Fuck!

You flinch and hit the wall, groaning when you see Yoongi lazily resting against one side of the bathroom entrance. Both of your voices echo in the extravagant interior.

“You ever knock?”

“No.”

“Shocker.”

He walks up the tiny steps, and you’re more than relieved you’re still wearing his jacket. When he gets closer, you turn and face the panel, “I can figure it out.”

“Move.”

You get slightly displaced as he gets close, resting a hand on the wall while bending to operate the buttons. As you inhale his musk, you respond to his second question instead of his first. “What?”

“Is this fine,” he repeats, checking the settings before turning to the shower area.

Oh. Wow. It’s a lot more than fine.

A circle of rain falls into a beautifully lighted tub, steam wafting through the glow and coating your skin. 

You’re so entranced that you are quite literally left speechless. Skirting around your present company, you gaze up, down, silently observing the plants sway with the shower air. 

Strangely, this whole bathroom makes everything you’ve seen today believable because of the sheer wonder of it all. It’s almost enough to make you forget what you’ve done. 

Almost. 

When you pause, you see Yoongi watching your face from beyond the rainfall. And he looks so handsome, even now, not doing a thing. 

Is it because he’s clearly roughed up but still so poised? Very unlike you in your banged up, dirty state? 

Huffing, you fold your arms a little too harshly—out of jealousy or whatever else, who is to say. “I’m good now,” you proclaim, keeping your walls high. “I can do the rest myself.” 

Again with that little slant. 

Ignore him ignore him. If Yoongi keeps doing that, you’re really gonna have to brave the outside world instead of dying by smirk. A tub has never been so interesting in your life. 

“Suit yourself.”

You look up again.

But he’s already left you alone.

Solely to undress and contemplate what the hell he implied by that.

Why did you walk left today instead of right?

Under scorching rain in the middle of luxury, this is the question you repeat in your head. Watching all the burnt streams of your decision swirl, and swirl, and swirl. 

The blood will never wash out.

Does the price of saving a life have to be this high? It must be somewhat divine, being that in order to save, you took. If only there was another way to achieve that end goal. Though there’s no way to do it all over again to be sure.

Staring at four chopsticks on the ground, you try to assure yourself. You need to.

Because at least you succeeded. 

But will your price be more damning because of the one you saved? 

Rushing water mutes your hearing as it pours onto sore limbs. When you reach for the scrub for a third time, you make sure to really dig, scraping at every. Single. Inch. In a last attempt to cleanse yourself completely.

Knowing that even after the water runs clear, you still see nothing but red.

You chose left today.

If you had chosen right… 

Doesn’t matter. 

Your palm tingles.

Blood never really washes out.

Holy fuck, you don’t have clothes to change into.

Wrapping yourself in plush material, you hastily pad around freezing floors as you think of a plan.

You can’t just ask for them. How would Yoongi even have any for you? The jacket was more than enough borrowing for today and you’re in a hotel room, not his place.

Thank the universe.  

But the matter is pretty urgent. Because you’d rather burn your belongings before putting them on again. Which leaves zero clothing and a thousand issues. Fuck. 

Dragging feet to the massive sliding doors, you steel your resolve. Hoist your shields back upright. 

Because there’s no choice. You’re just gonna have to dread another conversation with this man. An embarrassing, awkward, unprecedented shit why is he in the bedroom!

You flinch backward as you slam the door closed. Peeking out, you gawk, “What the hell are you—?”

Did Yoongi just pocket a phone?

The duffle rests at his feet. 

Wait. Did he stay in here while you showered? Thank god you had the foresight to slide all the doors shut because you definitely spent a lot of your time scrubbing like mad or standing completely still. 

No. Yoongi’s hair is wet, so he did shower at some point. And he’s donning a robe, which is precisely what made you slam the door shut. 

How can he look like royalty wearing that? The material is quite lush and silken, but still plain. It makes no fucking sense and you wanna rip it right off—

Gathering yourself, you rush out, “Why are you in here?”

“You took too long.”

“So? That doesn’t—”

“In my shower.”

Wait. What? “Oh.” 

You slide the door open a little more to check his claim. And now that you finally see the room, you can tell it’s clearly been used already, clothes and bottles scattered about. “You said pick one.” 

“I did.” Yoongi turns to drop something onto a dark comforter. “Figured you picked it on purpose.”

“No, I… I didn’t notice the room.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says after a brief look your way. “Not sharing the bed, though.”

“No need,” you snip. “I’m leaving soon.” 

Motherfucker. Yoongi only regards his sheets with a smile that triggers your fight response. And you almost—almost—drop the towel. 

Speaking of. How are you even standing in his vicinity with only a single piece of cloth? Are you seriously that exhausted you didn’t even think twice about it?

Suddenly very, very aware of yourself, you squeak, “Umm.” He waits. “I don’t have any clothes.” 

“That’s what you get for kicking me out so quick.”

Your jaw hits the floor. “So what, I’m walking around with a towel? Are you out of your mind? If you think I’m some—”

“Fuck, relax,” he slowly groans to the ceiling. “I was gonna say there’s robes in the closet.” 

You snap your mouth closed so hard it jangles. “Then just say that!” And you slam the partition closed before fast walking to find them. 

Missing the way Yoongi huffs before staring hard at his bedroom door.

On your second arrival into his room, your steps and demeanor are a lot calmer. 

Is it because he’s a lot calmer, too? Maybe. Is it also because you smell food, realizing he did exactly what you wanted? Maybe more so. 

Noticing a table situated near balcony doors, you blink before regarding Yoongi’s sitting form on one of the chairs outside. 

A man lounging while smoking in a robe should not be this alluring. And yet, that’s the only word you can think of to describe him.  

Throat drying and aching, you slowly walk over and take a seat, already ravenous enough to dive into broth head first. But you eye Yoongi while retrieving new chopsticks, scowling when all he does is flash teeth through the glass.

Do not engage do not engage do not engage. 

Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on your— 

“You’re really mad about that, huh.”

You snap your head up to see him leaning on the doorway. “I was hungry.”

“There was a cup of them on your table.”

“So why didn’t you grab those instead!” 

Yoongi ticks his brows before peering into the night. And he stays like that for awhile, letting a breeze lift his damp locks. “Didn’t expect to see you there,” he admits. “Gotta say you threw me off.”

Nu uh. No more heart skips for today. “I didn’t expect to see you, either,” you too choose to be honest. “Thought I’d never see you again.”

“You were going to.”

As curious brows furrow, you break your utensils apart. “Figured something happened.” Guess you’re being honest about a lot of things. “Or you found another tangerine girl.” 

Yoongi holds his look before taking a drag, smoke spiraling around his words, “Why were you even over there? You’re a bit far from Crane.”

You blink at his deflection.

What was that about? What is that look for? 

Holding his gaze because you aren’t done challenging him, you calmly answer, “I was shopping.”

“Shopping.”

“Mmhmm.” 

Falling silent, he observes a little longer before flicking ash off his cigarette. 

And just like that, the conversation dies. 

It’s for the best anyways. If Yoongi kept prying, he was gonna get closer to the truth. And you wanna slip around that as much as possible. 

But he keeps standing in the doorway, inked arm bending as he breathes in smoke. Donned in a dark robe and topped in teal, he suits Dragon perfectly. Way too perfectly. 

Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on your noodles instead. 

Your noodles.

Your noodles. 

You’re not hungry anymore. 

Something horrid jams up your throat, and you run through your day in flashes. The restaurant. The food. Dragons. The chopsticks. The kill. The chase. Yoongi. The kill the kill the kill. 

Dirt and shouts and lifeless lips clog your hearing, and your grip loosens completely as your vision shakes and shakes why couldn’t Yoongi have gotten anything else why does it have to be—

A hand. 

A robed arm. 

Your new utensils come back into view. 

But when you face reality, you don’t see them put them back into your hand. You don’t even see them dug in your noodles and left there. 

Instead, you watch as Yoongi plants one palm on the table, slowly lifting strands from the bowl and staring right into your eyes, 

“Eat.” 

Words. Get them out. Something something communication. Key is communication. What the fuck is happening to your brain? 

“I can’t,” you finally croak out. “I’m not.. I’m not hungry.” 

“You are.” 

“Not anymore.” 

Nose scrunching, Yoongi suddenly drops the food and dumps himself on the chair nearest, stretching his leg and revealing a littering of scars. “Didn’t know you were fine with wasting food.” 

The icy descent of his tone freezes your bones.

“Thought you of all people would hate that.” 

“I—I’m not—It’s not that—”

“Then eat.” 

“I literally can’t—” 

“Water. Food. If you’re gonna waste all my shit, then leave.” 

“What?” 

Is he serious? You’re in the midst of post-traumatic shock and he can’t take the hint? You’re so appalled by this man that you can’t even think straight. 

“You heard me. Stop acting like you didn’t.” 

“Oh, I heard you,” you snap. “Just double-checking what the fuck you said.” 

“So you gonna leave or just sit there? If you’re staying I’ll just walk out the roo—”

“Don’t.” 

Both of you still at your words.

And you have to force your palms to unfurl on your quivering thighs. One knuckle. Another. Nails leave half-moons in your skin. 

Breath haphazard, you finally break. “Just,” you swallow, hard. “I’m not wasting it just give me a sec.” 

You don’t want to tell Yoongi why you want him to stay. Despite him being the most infuriating person you’ve ever met, it beats the alternative. And you don’t want the alternative. Truthfully, that’s another reason why you left the elevator earlier. 

Yoongi looks pissed as hell. 

But he hasn’t moved. 

And that’s enough to get you to pick up your chopsticks and try again. 

You stare. Stare. Stare. Mustering courage and inhaling all the aromas you indulged in just earlier today. 

Fuck, you wanna hurl. 

“You’re gonna have to get used to this.”

Your gaze snaps to his, brows and thoughts knitted in disbelief. “What?”

“This feeling.” Yoongi looks out the glass doors, hands resting on the arms of his chair. “The faster you do, the better.”

There’s no way he’s serious. Get used to it? What reason would you ever have for doing that? Caustic, you scoff, “Why, so I don’t waste more of your food?”

You’ve never seen someone laugh in a negative way. But he does before sliding his eyes over. “So when you have to do it again, you don’t lock the fuck up hours later.”

You shoot up from your chair, hellbent on oh fuck you stood up too fast. “You—”

Yoongi just watches as you grab the table for balance, wincing from the pangs in your head. Words grind through your teeth, unable to fully form beyond the light assaulting your brain.

“Like I said.”

Palms press against your forehead before you slump back into your chair. 

“It’s better in the long run.” 

Technically, he’s right. It’s better in the long run if you get used to this. 

But there’s no way you can do it again. Who does he think you are? Yoongi’s got to know that you aren’t planning on making this a daily habit. This isn’t you. You only killed to protect somebody. Killed to save the person telling you to basically get over it.

Fucking hell, this sucks.

Frustration and exhaustion sting the corners of your eyes. 

Eat. Build your strength and get the hell out of here. Deal with it deal with it deal with it.  

As you regrettably pick up your chopsticks, you don’t care if your tears season your noodles. And quite frankly, you don’t give a shit if Yoongi watches them fall, too. 

Because they’re liquid anger. Hot trails blazing down your face, hardening into sticky paths and dried rivers. 

“What were you looking for.” 

Your eyes slide up to regard him, his arms folded and brows low. Because of course he doesn’t care about your state, either. Of course he’d rather entertain his curiosity. “Nothing you need to know,” you mutter, banning him from knowing another truth. 

“Did you find it.” 

You swipe at both your eyes.

As spice coats your tongue, Yoongi keeps prying, “Something you needed to go all the way there for?” 

“Fuck off,” you dismiss, slurping and swallowing with ease. “I don’t have to answer you.” 

“You already are,” he responds, confident. “Now tell me. Is there one in particular you need?” 

Wait. You barely gave anything away, so how is Yoongi asking the right questions? There’s no way he actually knows what you were looking for. No way in hell.

This man is more dangerous than you thought. 

“Why do you even care,” is all you choose to say, more focused on your food now because above everything else, it’s quite fantastic. It somewhat reminds you of a past home, and you can’t help but escape to those distinct walls. “It’s irrelevant to you.”

“But I have what you want.” 

You take another bite before stilling, looking up to see Yoongi propping his head with roughed knuckles. “You’re lying,” you drawl to his smugness, trying to act as if he didn’t just figure you all the way out. Because he didn’t. There’s no way. “And I’m still leaving.”

“If you stay, I’ll show you.” 

When you leer over your soup, he simply stares back with no hint of emotion. 

And you’re so curious about what he means that you finish your whole bowl. 

When you push it forward, you understand exactly what Yoongi did. It worked perfectly, and you have to hand it to him even though he mangled your character minutes beforehand. “Thank you,” you offer some manners. “This was goo—”

The scrape of a chair cuts you off, and your sentence dies in midair as you watch your runaway partner vacate his seat. 

Good riddance.

He knows how to stay on your bad side, that’s for damn sure. 

But Yoongi simply heads back out to the balcony for another light. So you chalk up his swift exit to vices and not wanting to breathe your air. Or maybe he’s done with his fun and is already writing you off before you head out. 

Clearing your bowl from the table, you walk out of the bedroom and bring it to the large kitchen, noting with a scowl that it’s obnoxiously bigger than half your floorplan back home. 

Yearning pierces right through your chest. 

The elevator is right over there. 

You showered, you ate. You can leave as soon as you clean your dish.

Are you way too curious about what Yoongi’s gonna show you? Yes. But is that gonna stop you from getting out of here? No. 

Well. This robe is hugging your figure perfectly and feels way too comfortable to just use for an hour or so… Plus, if you ditched it now, Mister Morals will scorn you for wasting that away, too. 

How rude of him to assume that about you. Of course you aren’t wasteful. The only times you let things go are when you absolutely have to, like you should have back in that noodle shop instead of braving the back staircase. 

Scoffing to no one, you scrub your bowl in the sink, grunting explicatives and stabbing Yoongi with curses until you hear a distinct beep. 

Was that the elevator?

You cut the water off with a twist.

Cautiously, you make your way across the kitchen, peeking around the corner to appease your curiosity and spike your anxiety. 

A bellhop? Another grey uniform looking to and fro to survey the area. It’s the same person that sent a look of panic your way before you went up to the room. 

And your defense mechanism blares. 

But before you can hide behind the partition, their eyes lock onto yours. Arm outstretched, the staff is motioning for you to… join them? Why? 

You’re the one bunking with a gangster. Why does this person make you even more uncomfortable? This feeling is just like the one you had when you called the elevator the first time. Was your gut warning you then, too? 

Maybe it’s because you don’t like the staff thinking they can come in unannounced. Grey zone etiquette or not, you can’t see how this is ever appropriate. In fact, it poses so many safety concerns. How is this okay? 

Walking into the foyer, you rest a hand on a robed hip. “Can I help you?” 

“I’m the one trying to help you,” they whisper, harsh and with another swipe of their hand. “You have to get out while you can.” 

Wait. What do they mean while you can? “And why’s that?” 

Sputtering, the bellhop sticks one foot out the elevator while pleading and, for some reason, that pisses you all the way off. “There’s no time to—”

“Get. Your foot. Off my floor.” 

Is that fear in their eyes or surprise? “Oh, apologies. I didn’t realize you were… I thought—”

“Thought what?” Your arms fold, weight shifting to your other tired foot. “Speak up.” 

Frankly, you don’t know where this newfound energy is coming from. All you know is that there are certain things you still despise and this person is ticking all the boxes. 

“I thought you were taken, Miss. I’m here to save you.” 

Pausing, you grip your arms, feeling silk gather under your palms. 

There’s a lot you tolerate. Many things that a lot of people can’t. But someone assuming you’re the weak one that needs saving? There is no quicker way to lose your interest. 

Stepping towards the elevator, you unfurl your arms, robe swaying and billowing around your freshly showered legs. 

“Yes, that’s right. Come on, we can take you away.” 

Hand on the entrance, you lean forward. “You’re not taking me anywhere,” you command, finger pressing the button at your side. “And you aren’t coming back up here until I say so.” 

Slowly, the doors slide shut, your reflection two halves in the metal shine. 

Well. 

So much for leaving. 

You may spend more time here than you thought. 

With more thoughts swirling, you spin, heading back into the kitchen to pick up the same bowl you were washing. Hoping you and your gut made the right call. 

Yoongi’s a criminal and a madman. But he’s not… the worst. At least, not horrible enough to warrant someone coming up to steal you away.

Besides. Is Yoongi aware that staff can come and go as they please? He seems like the type of guy that would hate that. 

Staying vigilant seems to be a little more important now. 

It’s soon after, when you’re placing the dish somewhere to dry, that you hear noise in the living room beyond the countertop. Looking up, you see someone much more familiar enter the space. 

Hmm. Whatever’s in that duffle must be worth millions for Yoongi to lug it around everywhere. 

As he dumps it next to the couch again, you don’t choose to ask about it just yet. Only because you want to ease into it later when you’re both not at each other’s throats. And while you’re not reeling from another strange encounter at the elevator. 

So you go with a safer question instead, choosing not mention what just happened. “Is this whole floor… your place?”

Yoongi looks up. “Only when I need it to be.”

Interesting. “Does anyone else know about it—”

“Do you always ask this many questions?”

You blink. “I mean. I don’t get by selling fruit cus I’m quiet.”

“You’re quiet with me.”

“And even then I get you to talk.”

Yoongi frowns slightly before moving away, more towards the sliding door leading out to another outdoor area. 

God, this place is obnoxiously huge. There’s still a whole other half you haven’t seen yet. 

When you peer out, you watch as he leans against the railing, seeming to look both up at the building and down at the streets below. 

Well. If you aren’t leaving anytime soon, may as well offer some sort of peace offering. Maybe the two of you just need to chill the fuck out. 

Rummaging through the kitchen, you manage to find some high quality beer in the fridge. On your walk to the sliding glass, you’re reminded of the time you gave him one before when he helped fix your cart. 

That was so long ago. 

You’re so lost in thought that you barely register Yoongi whipping a hand to his waist when you walk outside. But you catch the metal just in time. 

“It’s me!” you quickly alert before regressing back to annoyance, “Really…”

You’ve had way too much to deal with today. You don’t need a bullet in your chest to be another problem. 

Especially since his little maneuver showed a bit more skin than you meant to see.

Yoongi eyes you before his shoulders rest, and you stride forward to offer up the cold can in your palm. 

But you decide to hesitate while he goes to grab it, and you instead open it to have some. 

Ugh. High quality, your ass. This one is way too bitter. 

Your companion snorts as you make up an excuse, “I’ve had better.” 

“Do you even drink?” 

“Well, yeah,” you pout. Needing to prove it, you decide to keep the can. “Lemme try again.”

Somehow, this leads to you sharing the beer with him, tasting the mix of alcohol and smoke even after he tosses another cigarette off the ledge.

It’s not quite enough to forget, but it’s certainly helping. Observing the clouds so close and the city so far beneath your toes is extremely calming. It’s almost like you’re flying. 

“It’s different here,” you mention out of the blue.

“This sector?” 

“This high up.” Breathing in altitude, you sigh. “I’ve never been higher than my fourth story. It’s nice.” 

“It’s usually silent, too.” 

Your eyes slightly stab. “Whatever. You like having me around and just won’t admit it.” At this, Yoongi avoids direct contact. “Mmhmm. Don’t even try to hide it.” 

“You’re useful to me.” You freeze. “That’s why you’re here.” 

You shake your head. For someone deeming you useful, Yoongi’s pretty nonchalant about you dipping. Taking a tangy sip, you clarify, “But you don’t care if I leave? If someone comes to take me?”  

He takes the offered can. “Mm.” 

That answers that.

You should probably still tell him about what happened, though. His reaction could give more away than his words.

Instead, you drink in the night with your eyes. Knowing that you should know better about the company present. 

The more you converse with Yoongi, the more you pick up. And one of those sad facts is that he doesn’t give a shit about anything you do or don’t do. Because all he really cares about is what he needs. 

You can’t do anything to change him. Fix him. Whatever exists in fairytales. So you decide to take the night in stride. Not give a shit about him, either, per se. 

Your curiosity gets the better of you now. Not just about what he’s gonna show you, but about that duffle. You quite literally don’t have anything to lose anymore, so may as well go for the question you’ve been wanting to ask all day. 

“I was gonna ask for a cut of that,” you divulge with a head-tilt to the bag. “But figured you won’t even show me.” 

“Why not?” 

“Uhh.” You didn’t expect this. “You don’t like questions? You’re always secretive?” 

“Never talk to the streets, princess. They’ll snitch on everything you say.”  

“That’s deep,” you admit, taking a once full beer in your palm. “But I’m no snitch.”

“I know.” 

Your look carries a slight pang. 

“Come here.” Both of you walk inside as he plays with his lighter. When you round the couch, Yoongi dumps the bag right onto the cushions. “If you wanna see what’s in here, do it.” 

You stare before slowly walking forward and kneeling to unzip the bag. As your slide reveals the contents, you’re nervous about what you’ll see. 

But when it’s open, you freeze. 

It’s all…chil-don? Tons of money wrapped in sleek stacks with edges so… Crisp. New. 

Wait. 

These patterns. 

These are il-don? 

Holy fucking shit there’s no way these are real. This is currency seven generations old. The first ever of the established system. Worth more than anything in current circulation, especially in their pristine state. Forget being worth millions, these are next to priceless. 

You’ve never seen them like this.

“They’re some of the last in mint condition.” 

The shock value is so high you forgot you were alone. Slowly turning, your breath catches as you ask, “How did you know where to find these?” 

“Like I said,” he drones. “Streets talk.” 

You look at the bills before glancing back up. “Can I…?” 

Yoongi cocks a brow before angling his mouth. “Touch them? Do what you want, doll.” 

You blink at the name this time. Because him saying that with a fresh cig in his lips is making your stomach flutter. 

Picking up a fresh stack, you inspect the ancient pattern inlay with eyes wide, admiring how paper so old can have such detailed engravings. “These can’t be real.” 

“They are.” He shifts. “And most people never see one in their lifetime.”

You put the money back on the pile inside. Yes, these have got to be worth a fortune. But there’s nothing else in the bag? No drugs, no lethal substances, anything? “Wait, so. This is it?” 

Yoongi fully laughs before flicking his lighter again. “You want something else?” 

“No, I—” You back away. “There’s really nothing else in there?” 

Coolly, he lights up before taking the initial drag. “Nah.” 

Smoke spirals around you. “I dunno what I expected but it wasn’t that.”

Yoongi lets a wisp leave his mouth. You know it’s getting in your robe, but caring about the little things has now jumped out the window. “Whatever’s in that bag can feed half the city.” 

“What?” As you look, he walks over to what looks like a small section of a bar. “Is that why you stole it?”

“Stole it?” Yoongi grins and shakes his head. “Sure. That’s why we stole it.”

“We? Leave me out of this.”

“Too late.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You step forward in anger, but you only get a sound out before Yoongi straightens, aura blazing,

“I—”

“Say I do leave you out of it. Nothing happened tonight, according to me.” He discards his fresh light in an ashtray, watching it die before sliding his gaze your way. “Doesn’t mean whoever we just fought will suddenly leave you alone.”

Shit. He has a point. You ran for so long and fought plenty of those guys.

Is this what he meant? Getting used to that feeling? Maybe your consequence is joining the cycle of the damned, forced to kill in order to protect. Both others and now yourself. 

“But I’m… Just a nobody. A civilian, I…”

Yoongi walks until he’s in front of you, hand cupping your chin and voice whispering mortifying allegations in your ear, 

“You took a body for a Dragon, love. You’re not a civilian anymore.”

Your arms shove him backward without pause, face distraught as you watch his smirk bounce with his shoulders. His cackle echoes mad through the room, pinging the floors and piercing through your robe. 

Truthfully, it doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing one. So naked and exposed in the open for this man to see. “You’re despicable.”

“That right?” His mouth sets as his lids lower. “And what about the one that killed and kept running?”

What.

“There was a police car at the restaurant,” Yoongi continues, a reminder so sharp it slices clean. “Yet you didn’t turn yourself in.”

Your feet sink into the rug beneath. “That’s not…” 

With measured steps, he stalks forward, a harbinger of horrific realizations that you don’t want to hear, “You didn’t have to keep running. Didn’t have to get in that taxi.”

Stepping back, you find the room so stuffy it’s hard to move. “You—”

“Could’ve taken another train.” 

“Stop.”

“Could’ve stayed in that elevator.”

What the fuck is happening right now? 

Yoongi’s close. Very much too close, and the energy he radiates sets your instincts ablaze.

This is the man you’ve been pining over this whole time? If you ever get back home, you have got to remind yourself to avoid him at all costs. There’s nothing good for you if you stay. Danger surrounds every inch of him, and there’s no telling when you’ll take collateral damage.

“But you didn’t,” he delivers the final blow. “And you’re still here.” 

Lifting your chin, Yoongi grins slow when you yank away. 

“I should’ve never saved you.” Gaze finally locked, you growl from within, letting a monster loose, 

“I should’ve left you for dead.” 

Wait. 

Stop. 

This isn’t you. This isn’t who you are. You’re a helper. A healer. Those words came out so strange that you’re questioning how they left your mouth so freely.

Did you really mean that? Or was this some feeble attempt to hurt him?

Yoongi doesn’t seem phased. But you clearly don’t know him so it’s not like—

Something heavy and dark as fuck is placed in your hand, and you snap your eyes to his in utmost disbelief.

“Go ahead then.”

Oh, this man is psychotic.

“Be my guest.”

No fucking way you’re gonna do it. “Stop—”

“If you regret it, why waste time—”

“Seriously, I’m not gonna—”

Yoongi forces your fingers flush against metal as he holds the gun to his forehead, both eyes piercing right into yours with no hesitation whatsoever. 

And it is frightening. 

All anger from before flees as fear and intensity rush into its place. Your brain fizzles and cracks as you try to wrestle out of his grip, and you feel burning at the corners of your eyes. “Stop!”

“Why.”

“I’m not gonna shoot you, the fuck!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

Mercifully, he lets go, pistol thrown as you’re tugged forward with a—

“What’s stopping you,” he grounds out, formidable presence all-consuming. “Tell me.” 

You’re breathing so hard it hurts. “You”—a shaky heave—“You are out of your fucking mind.”

When you struggle from his grip, Yoongi pulls you even closer. Reacting in a rush, you propel your knee up to wrap around his side and twist. 

But he proves just as quick, gripping the bare skin of your leg as you shove him down against the sofa. Grunting, you both curve with the furniture, Yoongi locked onto your knitted, conflicted brows.  

“You regret saving my life,” he simply repeats to your frustration. “I gave you the chance to fix that.” 

“Shut up—”

“But your will is weak.”

“I swear to—”

“Guess I was wrong.”

Who the hell does he think he is? This guy—Yoongi, Agust, whoever the fuck—has no right to play with you so casually. 

But something else is swirling inside your ribs. Because through his cutthroat words and actions, this man is somehow stirring the deepest waters of your soul. Ripples rumble and stretch into waves, tugging your toes in undercurrents of obsidian. Dark. Primal. Hazardous. All you. 

Is it from being subjected to such a heavy dose of his power? 

Or is it because—even if just for a moment—he’s handing all that power to you?

Quite literally, you’re the one on top.

And Yoongi holds your gaze, unfazed by the way your robe completely spread open during your tumble. Or the fact that you have nothing beneath that silk. 

He could easily take over. From the feel of his build beneath your hands and between your legs, you know he can. 

But he’s not. There’s no hesitation. He’s legitimately giving you the choice and reveals no ounce of remorse.

This revelation courses through your veins, pumping a new kind of life into your palms. You have a shot at a criminal with a bag of il-don waiting to be snatched. And you know you won’t take it. 

And that alone alters the chemistry of your brain.

With more fear of yourself than anything else, you shake out, “If I’m killing you, it’s gonna be entirely my choice.” 

He’s laughing? You’re instigating a threat and he’s enjoying it? God, you are teetering on the brink of madness and another emotion that won’t dare be acknowledged. 

Tugging Yoongi up a notch, you proclaim to the glint of his eyes, 

“And when I do, you’ll die exactly how I want.”

Yoongi’s lips slowly, dreadfully spread, teeth shining in the dim lamp lights that sharpen half his features. When he speaks, you shiver. Because it’s a mix of pride and fear, sprinkled with a hint of alarm,

“That’s my girl.” 

The room quiets, your bodies locked in a way that you’ll remember years from now. Breaths. Your bare chest hovering inches above his. If there were bystanders, they would no doubt get the wrong idea. Because if things were different, and if this man underneath you wasn’t who he was, you’d entertain another type of ferality and not stop until morning. 

To be fair. That same dark part of you would still do it. 

But this is about the righteous part of who you are. The one that abides by the rules. The one that fights to keep days boring, uneventful, the same. 

So you quell that monster pacing in your core. 

One more exhale leaves your lips before you let him drop, sliding off his silken, tone form to quietly readjust your robe. Turning away, you focus on the night skies, wondering if the people back home are sound asleep as you should be. 

“My will may seem weak. But I don’t care what you think of me.” 

Sound is crisp again as Yoongi rises to his feet. Around you, the air starts to lighten, cold slipping delicately into your skin. 

Slowly tying the wrap at your waist, your words float to the ground, “Because I know who I am. And no one can take that from me, not even you.” 

His presence fills the space at your back. But it’s muted. Less intimidating. Or maybe you’re just at your limit because you admit a little more than you intend, 

“This world has already tried enough.” 

Both of you come to another standstill, two black robes staining a room full of white. Even time itself gives you space, slowing and circling until you’re ready for it to flow straight again. 

As a cloud shadows the light of the moon, you feel knuckles caress your neck. And Yoongi’s never sounded so calm as he starts, “They’ll come after you.”

You slightly turn. 

“You still want to go back?”

A pause. A nod.

His knuckles continue to glide along your neck, slipping down your back before traveling the swoop of your shoulder. Everything in your body thrums, silently quaking because you have no idea where this is coming from and you can’t say you hate it. 

Quite the opposite. And that scares you more. 

“If you do, you’re dead to me.”

Of course. You’ve seen and know too much. There’s no reason for him to show up to your street now, especially if tangerines are all he’s looking for. He can always find them anywhere else. 

But, for some reason, this still stings. In a way that irks even your reasonable side. Is it because of his touch? No. That’s only making you nervous from the fact that you probably aren’t… as experienced as he is. The uneasiness is wholly from your own limitations. 

“I’ll survive without you,” you whisper resolute, chest squeezing when he replies,

“I know.” 

The same fingers get bolder, tracing down your arm before sliding along the wrap at your hip. 

And you freeze. 

Because the tension is palpable. The power is intoxicating. It’s a new type of anticipation and you are fighting yourself to not give in. Don’t let everything get to your head. Don’t let anyone in again. Don’t stray onto a path you can’t quite navigate. 

But fuck, you kinda want to. 

Rocks slide against exposed skin when he decides to speak again. And it makes you wish the two of you were extraordinarily normal. Or that you at least knew what the fuck to do here because the attraction you feel is not as one-sided as you presumed. 

“What made you stay.”

A breath you didn’t know you were holding huffs out, and you swallow with difficulty. “I just…” 

Get it together. Keep up your guard. It’s proving so hard, especially when his touches spark fires along your limbs. But you have to. 

And therein comes another lie. “I wanted to know what you stole.” Gulping down the truth, you harden your resolve. “That’s it.” 

With more restraint that you want, Yoongi bunches silk at your pelvis, hitching your robe and your breath all at once. When his other hand slowly holds your neck in place, you can’t help but flinch, and his low hum pours lava straight down your chest, 

“What a shame.”

Oh. Is this how it ends? Did your gut get it all wrong? 

He could end your life with a flick of his wrist. You know far too much. You’re not useful anymore. 

“Someone will take you back tomorrow,” Yoongi murmurs, proving every single theory wrong. “After that, you’re on your own.” 

And just like that, he releases you to stand alone. 

Oh. You’re going home. 

Good.

This is good, right?

Your heart beats overtime, almost drowning out your entire thought process. The thumps and pulses seem to cut every string of consciousness short. 

What was that? What was any of that? 

Never mind. Nothing happened and you can keep it that way, for the better. Yoongi is risk draped in beauty, and once you’re back home you can cut ties with anyone like him for good. You saved him; he spared you. It’s over. 

…But do you want it to be? 

Yes. 

Of course you do. 

Clouds let moonlight shine again. 

When you arrive at an answer, you turn to find that Yoongi’s already gone, duffle and all shut inside his room with a muted click.

A flip switches as you let exhaustion take over completely, falling onto cushions that still hold his scent. Inhaling, you drift into darkness, wondering how your final decision will affect the rest of your days.

Whether awake or asleep, nightmares are real. 

Only this time, you aren’t quite sure if the blood and guts you’re seeing are yours or someone else’s. Can’t discern the limb on the ground from the limb on your torso. Screams echo and ping from all directions, a cacophony of death that has you scratching at mania to stay sane. 

Murderer. Murderer. A murderer that regrets who she saved. No, wait, that’s not true. You’d still do it again.

And you watch the same swing over and over. The same arc of finality. Those lifeless eyes. Closer. Closer. Sharper. Judging. 

You were wrong. Were you wrong? Running does nothing and doesn’t provide an answer. The ground under your toes gives out. 

How far are you straying? How low are you sinking? If you told your neighbors who you killed for, would they be upset or betrayed? 

They’d hate you. Their fingers aim straight. Their tongues fire bullets. 

They’ll hate you. Hate you. Hate you hate you hate you—

A room bursts into view as you jolt awake. Sounds snap silent, the hum of the air all you can hear as you rub your eyes. 

So much for sleeping. There’s no way you’ll be able to now.

Focus on something else. Anything else. The past cannot be undone, so live with the choices you made and deal with the faces that haunt your dreams. 

Staring into the dark, shapes and sharp edges slowly form, your vision sharpening with every passing second. Tiny pops and creaks tickle your eardrums, and Yoongi’s scent still lingers with your own. 

You don’t want to focus on him, but it’s better than what forced you awake.

A lot happened tonight. But also, nothing at all. Something is keeping you both together, tightening and squeezing the strings in your chest. But you don’t know if that’s from the adrenaline of today’s events, or from the pure shock of your unexpected reunion. 

There’s something else you haven’t considered until now. Despite his unorthodox and hellish methods, Yoongi did keep your head on straight. You showered. You ate. You drank. You inhaled fresh air. 

Your compass righted itself when you didn’t blow his brains out. 

The nothingness was all to your advantage. Was that all calculated, too? 

One part of you—the bright side of you—knows that it doesn’t matter. No matter how helpful he was tonight, distance is crucial. Stay away from people like him. They’re all too cunning to be kept close.

But if leaping that crevasse allows you to keep your mind off everything else? If you need to stop the bleeding, why not reach for a cure?

Your exhale shakes as your shoulders fall forward, self-deprecation destroying your brain because what the fuck are you thinking? This is nonsense. Madness. 

Maybe you’ve just been insane from the very start. 

Your breath quickens at the possibilities. The potential outcomes of what you’re about to do. 

This is the most solid decision you’ve made all night.

As your toes travel across plush, trek over marble, and arrive at their destination, the rest of your body quietly, nervously follows. 

Raising your hand, you listen for movement. When you find none, you softly knock and wait for what seems like an eternity. 

For nothing. 

All that worry for naught. Yoongi’s most likely fast asleep and not dreaming at all. 

Good. This is your sign to let it go completely. In the morning, you’re going back home. The nightmares will consume you and you’ll wake up everyday to brave the streets. Assassins will be on the hunt for revenge. You won’t be saved by the boy in teal. 

What a shame, indeed.

As you step to leave, you hear the door slowly swing.

And Yoongi emerges from behind, minted hair mussed over lowered lids and robe slipping down a tatted shoulder. 

Fuck everything. 

“I don’t regret what I did and I’d do it all again,” you admit with finality. To him, to yourself, to the ones you’ll disappoint back home. “And I refuse to get used to this feeling because it reminds me I’m still a good person.” 

Yoongi’s eyes don’t change as he stares. 

“But,” you exhale with a shake. “Just for tonight…”  

This is it.

The brink of no return.

Your soul dips into the dark.

“Please make me fucking forget.”

—

—

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: once again, i cannot thank y'all enough for being patient and understanding as i go through life while working on this and all the other writing projects we have going on! it means the world, and even though there were some not-so-fun asks to get, the supporting and wonderful ones are what i will continue to focus on! so if you've ever left something sweet, thought provoking, encouraging, etc - thank you from the bottom of my heart! you're what keeps this writer going. a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist

[zarla-s]

I just read your TF2 bot post and I’m fascinated. It has left me with a few questions though. Why/how were bots a problem for so long? What was the main incentive for botting (is it botting or boting??) Was it just to be an asshole? What’s your favorite baked good? Have a lovely day and don’t worry about answering my questions if you’re not in the mood :]

The bots were a problem for so long because Valve just didn't care, sorry to say. They just let it happen. I'm not sure when they started coming in in force, maybe after the Jungle Inferno update like six years ago? But they just kept pouring in and Valve just ignored it. It's really shameful how bad they let it get, honestly. They just kept putting out community updates like nothing was wrong.

Eventually after a lot of community pressure a year ago (#savetf2) they tweeted saying they were aware of the problem and then nothing happened. Then there was ANOTHER community movement this June (#fixtf2), and THEN at the end of June they ACTUALLY did something, which is why everyone was so shocked and skeptical at the time. Like the bots got so bad, it's hard to get across just how bad it got if you weren't playing at the time. It was bad. To suddenly go from that to totally bot-free was unbelievable. Frankly I'm still shocked they're gone! No one knows why Valve's acting now or how they're doing it (personally, I think they must have been working on these anti-bot measures for a while... maybe even since their initial tweet, but no one knows), but I hope they keep it up. I can finally teach people how to play in peace!

As for why they'd do this, yeah, it's just to be jerks. They just want to make people miserable. They have websites on Neocities you can find under the tf2 tag (I was looking through it for sites to link to my tf2 site) and they state themselves that they just like making people mad. I don't think they actually hate TF2 so much as they love the power rush from destroying something so famous that so many people love. Kind of a power-trip/control thing, with a dose of being desperate for attention. A lot of the more notorious bot hosters had twitters or youtube accounts where they invited people to rage at them uselessly, they loved it. They've also formed communities around botting and trolling people, so they have kind of a social investment in it (although they were quick to turn on each other when they suspected someone was a mole). Some of them sell their bot software or "bot immunity" for money but I think that was just pocket change, I don't think that was a real motivator.

After having free reign for so long, they reacted violently to the community movement in June. They were positive that nothing would happen to them, so they kept doing more and more outrageous things to prove it. They DDoS'd and DMCA'd the site for the petition multiple times, they doxxed and swatted one of the main bot fighters, they impersonated figureheads and posted illegal links to things, like they were really stepping over the line and gloating about it. They were extremely confident and to be fair, who could blame them? Valve's negligence let them get away with it for years. To suddenly have that power taken away from them without warning made them absolutely furious. They're still seething about it right now and plotting ways to get back in, but they haven't found one yet. It's a matter of pride for them at this point I think, that and a childish tantrum about not being able to ruin other people's fun anymore. Them targeting a baby game version of TF2 (TC2) also points to it being a power trip. If they can't ruin TF2 anymore then by god they've got to ruin SOMEthing!

Even now I'm not sure Valve can hold the line and I keep checking TF2 Casual every now and then to look for bots, haha. It's just hard to believe! I greatly enjoy hearing about bot hosters raging about it and suffering though, they deserve nothing less. Die mad about it!!!

In terms of baked goods though I like all kinds, although right now I'm thinking about brownies so I'll say that. |D

[stormandforge]

And just like that, Forge has a name.

I almost choked when I heard it. I use captions, so I could see I hadn't imagined it, and I was in absolute shock. I repeated "DANIEL?" in disbelief about 10 times, my hand on my mouth and my eyes wide. I looked at my husband to confirm I wasn't going insane. Then I stared into space for the rest of the episode.

X-Men '97 using Forge's real name was the last thing I expected. And the way they did it, too, so casually, in conversation. I'D BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FOR 30 YEARS.

You might think it's a small thing, but before X-Men '97 episode 10, so before yesterday, Forge didn't have a real name. He was introduced in 1984. Let that sink in: that's 40 years without a single Marvel writer bothering to give him a name.

The fans, myself included, came up with headcanon to justify the decision and sometimes made up names for him in fanfic (Jonathan Silvercloud being the most famous one - no it's not an alt reality name, it comes from fic), but no Marvel writer took the time to explain or rectify.

This was frankly insulting of them, especially when you consider Forge's constant presence in the comics, and the ridiculous number of names some other characters have. Also, and perhaps most importantly, Chris Claremont had already planned a name for him:

All Marvel needed to do was use this name to make it canon. Or perhaps ask Claremont if they could use it. (And if they didn't want to speak to Claremont, they could still just...make up another name. You know, that thing writers do all the time.) But no, even after the name was announced on Twitter, it still was never used, on panel or elsewhere.

Enter a simple piece of dialogue in X-Men '97, and boom, Forge has a name. It wasn't that difficult, was it? Such a small move, but it shook me like a bomb. It's a historic moment for the character, and for the people who love him as much as I do. It's like he was finally given an identity, and with it the basic dignity he deserves.

I had imagined all sorts of scenarios in which his name would be revealed - all quite dramatic or emotional. But I guess the best way to retcon something that doesn't make sense is to pretend it never happened. So revealing his long-withheld name in conversation, natural like, is absolutely perfect. I love that Forge doesn't even react, because, you know, it's just his name, no big deal.

(I'm a bit sad that Ororo wasn't the first one to call him by his first name, but hey, you can't have it all.)

As far as I'm concerned, the name is canon now. '97 isn't the comics, but it's still Marvel, and that's good enough for me. I've waited long enough. And if the first name Claremont wrote is canon, then so is the last.

Which means: Forge has a full name. *SQUEEEEEEE*

I don't know who made the decision to use Forge's name or why, but I want to thank them. They righted a major wrong.

Now catch up, Marvel Comics. Everyone deserves a name. Even the monkey wrench repairman with non-flashy powers.

Everyone, meet Daniel Lone Eagle.

[musedeluce]

Coins Flip Both Ways

Xavier x Reader - Your strategy for getting rid of the mob of wanderers worked, but you are not immune to your own schemes.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Injuries, Medical emergencies, Combat, Hospitalization

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

"Listen to me." Xavier's usually calm and soft demeanor has been replaced with one of calm focus and calculated ruthlessness towards anything that prevented him from taking care of his cherished partner. "Here is the plan. I've already called for medical help, and right now I am going to carry you out of the no hunt zone so they can take care of you. I don't want to risk teleporting right now with you in this condition. Brace yourself, this is going to hurt." you don't miss the sliver of soft, powerful distress threading through his voice. He himself was worse for wear, covered in scratches and bruises, but ultimately, unlike you, no severe wounds. Though that fact was thanks to your quick thinking after he had been surrounded by a frankly staggering amount of wanderers. No matter how skilled and experienced, when trapped in a battle of attrition, numbers always win. "I'm ready." In anticipation of the pain, you try your best to keep relaxed, as tensing your muscles would only make it worse. With that, he hoists you up, princess style, and runs. He was not wrong, the pain was intense, the shrapnel driven into your side causing a deep, gouging pain. Both you and Xavier had managed to secure a tight bandage around it to staunch the blood, but not removing it so you wouldn't bleed to death. Xavier does his damnedest to keep you steady, but it's not possible to prevent all jostling. Normally Xavier would have carried you on his back, but the shrapnel in your side prevented that. You hold onto him as best you can, doing your best to ignore the pain. The easiest way to do that, is to focus on Xavier's footfalls. He's not speaking, laser focused on getting you to safety, but his steady, sharp, extremely fast staccato footsteps speak for him. The way he cradles you close to his chest and holds you as still as possible, speaks for him. The way he had immediately sought you out after the explosion, his only thought to make sure you were okay, spoke for him.

Though you were bandaged and not in immediate danger of dying from blood loss, you were still in a lot of pain, and losing less blood is still losing blood. Your consciousness becomes fuzzy. As the pair of you make it to the boundary of the No - Hunt Zone, you're met with an ambulance and highly trained medics. You're delivered into their care, barely awake, and you don't notice how Xavier's hands flex before curling into fists after he's not holding you any longer. When you wake up at Akso hospital, the shrapnel gone, your wound stitched up and bandaged, he's there. He's holding your hand as he sleeps with his head on your bed. With your free hand, your fingers card through his hair. "Hey, Xavier." your voice is soft, tender. As soon as it leaves your mouth, he, uncharacteristically, immediately wakes up, sitting up in his chair and still refusing to let go of your hand. "That position didn't look very comfortable, are you feeling alright?" His eyes widen at this, shocked that this is even a concern right now. "I'm alright, but any questions of that sort should be directed at you. Are you comfortable? How does your wound feel?" His earnest blue eyes rove over you, checking for anything more that would be amiss. Shrugging, you take a brief look around your hospital room.

"I'm about as comfortable as can be expected in these circumstances, I guess." Looking back at him you smile. "How unlucky, for me right? But Lucky in another sense since you were there. Thank you." "It didn't feel lucky." He's looking at you, his expression focused and imploring. "Besides, me being there for you isn't a matter of luck. It's a matter of course." Lifting your hand, he kissed it gently, one eye closing briefly as the other gazed at you. "Thank you for your help with the wanderers, it would have been hard to deal with without you." Smiling, you freed your hand from Xavier's and held his face, slightly squishing his cheeks. "You're welcome. It was a pretty impressive strategy, if I do say so myself, it was very effective. Excluding the whole deadly shrapnel wound thing." He winced. "Please, don't do that again." Xavier's eyes were closed and he leaned into your touch. "We're partners, we have each other's backs and protect each other. What am I supposed to do, how am I supposed to protect you if you keep getting injured on my account? You're always my priority, anything else can wait." "Even your own well-being?" With how he was acting, the answer was obviously yes, which was concerning. But, you had an idea on how to proceed.

"Even my own well being - " Xavier withdraws from your touch, sitting straight up and staring into your eyes as if to psychically beam his thoughts to you, to make you permanently aware of them through his eyes alone.

"Ah, well that's no good." You make your tone mock serious to soften the blow and to get your message across in a more palatable way. His expression is surprised and somewhat hurt, but you press on before he can say anything. "Need I remind you that the only reason I improvised that device is because you were surrounded? Stop doing stuff like that." The hurt in his expression deepened, and you could see a growing seed of guilt. "I care about you. I want you to take care of yourself, and I think you should keep this in mind: by taking care of yourself, you're also better able to have my back and be my partner. This relationship goes both ways you know! We're like two sides of the same coin." Playfully, you boop his nose with your finger, and much to your relief his hurt and guilty expression faded, replaced with something adoring, his eyes twinkling. "Both ways, huh? I'll hold you to that. You'll have to take care of yourself as well, for my sake if nothing else, in order to hold up your end of the partnership.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/N: Gotta hit him with that Uno Reverse, but with precision so as not to really hurt him. Second in the series, I guess lol. Zayne's, the first is here and the other ones are in progress. Still getting a handle on writing these characters, but I think I did pretty well here! The title, is of course a reference to the bond of partnership, how it goes both ways and like a coin, has 2 sides. If I missed any tags, or something else, please let me know.

[fantasyinallforms]

Alright, we've got to talk about this scene because for a scene as short as this one, it packs a huge punch! They manage to cram a frankly impressive amount of information into less than a min. This will be a long one so strap in and let's start at the very beginning, right after Ori asks, "What about Bilbo?"

Up until this point, we have only ever heard Thorin's voice crack once. Just once, and that was when he thought that he missed his chance to enter Erebor. A huge defining moment in this quest. The second time was right here when he said, "Give him more time." Please note how Thorin is standing. Hands pressed together and head bent, his back completely turned to the mountain. He doesn't even turn his head until Balin utters the word "Killed".

Now Here Thorin says, "You're afraid." He does it in an almost accusatory way and directly after Balin finishes his above sentence. I truly think this is because he has been sitting here dreading Bilbo's fate for hours. This, combined with the dragon sickness that's starting to take hold, wreaking havoc on his psyche. In this moment, the lines between Bilbo and the treasure are getting blurred. His face is a picture of discontent and fear. So in usual Thorin fashion, he lashes out. He voices his fear to Balin as an accusation. I don't think anything articulates how bizarre Thorin is acting more than the below gif.

Balin fully leans away from him in shock, eyes searching this face before going on to say that he fears for him with tears in his eyes. Thorin is at war with himself. He's at war with the growing greed pumping through his veins, and how much he cares and worries for Bilbo. His love for Bilbo is winning because he is desperately forcing himself to detach Bilbo from himself. They go out of their way in the next 13 seconds to tell us that multiple separate times! I will break those down for you now.

Let's start here with this line and how it's said. Time and time again, clearly on and off screen, Thorin has shown his regard for Bilbo. The handful of time we see is not enough to invoke this strong of a reaction from Balin, a Dwarf who has known him his entire life. Would not hesitate is a powerful choice of words. Think of the things you would not hesitate to save from death or destruction. They're all things you love, things you can't live without. That is what Balin is implying Bilbo is to Thorin. Balin knows the depth of Thorin's affection.

And here we have the response and the third time we ever hear Thorin's voice crack and stutter. He chooses to call him "burglar" and forces the words out through his teeth like a curse, like he's fighting something. The statement in and of itself is an obvious lie. He has risked his life for Bilbo multiple times. The trolls, the cliffside, even when Bard threatened them, and he practically glued himself to Bilbo's side.

That brings us to this moment. This is right after the dragon's roar. The look of pure panic at Balin's words. He looks at the door, and the battle between Bilbo and the Arkenstone flips to Bilbo like a light switch. In this moment, Bilbo is more important. He rushes through the door into fiery danger, and the relief in his voice when he sees Bilbo, is clearly audible. Now we all know in the next scene, he holds Bilbo at sword point, and it flickers again. After that, however, Thorin's sickness seems to reconcile Bilbo and the treasure as one thing. Why else would he give him the second most valuable thing in the hoard? Treasure can't steal treasure.

I do have a theory that if Bilbo had revealed the stone, Thorin would not have been upset. It was only when he gave it away that it was deemed betrayal in the highest order.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 7 . Truth (2)

a/n: double update this week (I'll upload another chapter tom) to lament over my fever getting higher lol (I'm actually procrastinating my school works)

tags: frustrated rosalyn, again abuse as the norm, cursing, detrimental thoughts and ways of living, unhealthy coping mechanisms and trauma responses

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Rosalyn is someone who threw away her royal position to pursue her dreams of being a mage.

A decision that removed her from her family.

The mage thinks that she would be sad by this if it wasn’t for the fact that she immediately found a new family to be with.

It's amazing if you ask her. It was as if the gods saw that she needed someone to trust after almost being killed and gave it to her in the form of a socially awkward swordsman.

And then almost right after she put her trust in Choi Han, she gained a little brother named Lock.

From there it spiralled. She met Cale and all the other people under him. She got the support she needed to make her dreams come true. On top of that, her relationship with her blood relatives is still good.

Overall it was nice. Especially when Cale seems to keep making friends everywhere and expanding this family-esc circle they have.

That was why when Cale brought another person home Rosalyn thought it would be the same thing. Thought that in a few days' time, that person would be part of their group, their family.

Well in a way they were.

Rosalyn has come to see _____ as her younger sibling, the same way she views Lock. She has taken it upon herself to help the healer acclimatize to their new group and environment in general.

However, every time Rosalyn thinks she’s making progress, _____ seems to go back into their shell.

At first, the woman thought they were just socially awkward. Perhaps shaken because their family literally just threw them to their death.

Her first mistake was assuming it was as trivial as that.

Her second mistake was not getting the full story.

If she had done that then maybe she wouldn’t be this shocked so early in the morning.

Well in her defence she was expecting Cale to talk about some sort of plan for when they meet the dragon. Why else would he gather the group this early right before they are set to travel to the dragon’s lair?

Apparently not.

As soon as everyone has settled Cale brought to everyone’s attention that they didn’t know how _____’s powers work.

This made Rosalyn confused. Because quite frankly what does this have to do with… well anything?

But oh god, the more _____ explains their abilities the more she understood why this has to be said now.

This should have been explained way earlier. Because what do they mean that _____ essentially absorbs their patients' wounds?

It made the mage look back at all the people the Medicus had healed. All the sickness and wounds they had to absorb.

And shit.

She remembered that _____ has been doing this since they were 9 years old. Maybe even earlier as she discovered that the famous story of their adoption is fabricated.

Rosalyn may have only known _____ for a short while, but that’s her little sibling goddammit.

A sibling she admires because of how helpful and selfless they are. Traits they possess that Rosalyn is now starting to resent.

The redhead shot a pointed look at the other redhead in the room. A look that says Rosalyn wants her questions answered. Cale responded with another eye contact that seemed to say “Later”.

“Just what-”

Cale put his hand up to stop Rosalyn from speaking. Everyone was still in the room minus _____. The redhead had sent them out as they hadn’t finished packing their things yet.

“To put it shortly, I need you all to keep an eye on _____.”

The man goes on to explain how the healer kind of lacks… common sense, for lack of a better term. It has something to do with how they were brought up. 

“We don’t need to look after them like a child. Just make sure they won’t go overboard using their abilities. No guarding them like a hound either.”

It's a no-brainer that the last part was for the visibly enraged Choi Han. He was still visibly enraged but nodded as he understood why Cale didn't want the healer to have guards as of now.

Rosalyn is sure that Choi Han is going to be overprotective of _____ in some way. Not that she blames him.

Cale went to stand up, signifying that the meeting was over. The rest followed and started filing out of the room. 

Everyone except Rosalyn.

She has questions and she’s going to get answers.

“Young master, how long have you known?”

“Since last night.”

“Were they deliberately hiding it?”

“No, they just didn’t think they could bring it up when no one was asking.”

“How are we supposed to- haaa”

“Blame their shitty family.”

On their way to the dragon’s lair, Rosalyn had a lot on her mind. Lots of puzzle pieces to put together.

Now that Rosalyn knows the full story everything started to make sense.

Made her realize just how hurt her sibling had been.

Just how much they suffered before Cale met them.

It made Rosalyn look back to some of the habits she noticed _____ has. Like how they almost seem apprehensive to talk to people in authority. How their hands and voice tremble when they thought they made a mistake. How they are so intent on healing everyone and low-key seem scared if a person’s condition is out of their jurisdiction.

How they take everything with apprehension. Like they can’t believe that they are being given things. Even when those things are basic necessities like a good plate of food. How they teared up when Raon gave them that red teddy bear from the night market. How apparently that was the first toy– no, the first thing, that they have ever received in their entire life for free. The first gift they get to indulge in.

How they are too independent for Rosalyn’s liking. How they always insist that the servants have better things to do than assist them. How they refuse to get treated when sick or injured despite them treating everyone else.

How they never speak unless spoken to first. How they will literally just stand there, bleeding and not saying a word unless they are given some sort of permission. This one frustrates Rosalyn so much. Not only does she want to hear more from the healer, but she also thinks they have so many good ideas. Before she let it go she thought they were shy, but that’s slowly going to change from now on.

How even when they were suffering from nightmares they were silent. How on one of those nights they looked more scared that Rosalyn saw them being vulnerable, as if it's a sin to have nightmares. To be vulnerable and lean on others. How on that night Rosalyn had to explain that there’s nothing wrong with asking for help after such things. How _____ nodded but seemed apprehensive. How Rosalyn knew that after that night they still suffered silently. Merely holding the mage’s hand as solace and comfort on the rare nights the healer allows themself to embrace the help presented to them.

How Rosalyn found out now that it was because _____ have been taught that since they don’t scar then they must not have pain. Since they only get a percentage of their patient’s pain then it would be arrogant and privileged of them to complain.

How they–

How–

Fuck.

Rosalyn is going to get revenge for _____. 

She’s going to make sure she gets it done one way or another.

a/n at the end: i wasn't quite sure how to get the point across that rosalyn was angry and frustrated beyond belief so I made her curse as she isn't really someone who's portrayed to curse a lot

[flavoredfaeman]

Okay making my own long post so that I can get out all my thoughts clearly

So to start off 1. I think that queer baiting is a completely useless term, in part because all it is used for is arguing whether or not something is queer enough (in part because queerbaiting is an incredibly rare phenomenon in western media), 2. I think that the way male queerness is treated in Deadpool is unfortunate, and 3. Gay people are allowed to find joy in goofy movies and it isn't that serious.

**this is all my opinion, a lot of these topics are up to personal interpretation just like with any other movies or media discussion (I am trying to also cover multiple perspectives here, but I am only one person)

Let's get one thing clear right off the bat, no one who is familiar with marvel and disney actually thought that Deadpool and Wolverine were going to kiss/fuck nasty/become an item. (Those were jokes guys.) Those of us who were hoping for queerness were hoping for some subtext at most or the Deadpool-typical type jokes where he smacks a guy's ass, makes a quippy comment and moves on. And within that context of expectation, we were given way more than we expected.

Now, I will say that it is absolutely sad that we can have these movies with gay jokes, but that actually portraying queer characters seems to be too much for them. As is typical (to my knowledge) of bigger movies, they were allowed to make a side lesbian couple (this is a much larger topic, but for the purposes of this conversation, let me add on: cishet men think lesbians are hot + women are not considered to be able to have "real" relationships without men. So they can get greenlit a bit easier.), but Deadpool is not allowed to have meaningful connections to other men.

Deadpool's jokes about gayness can be interpreted in different ways. To some people, they feel hurtful and deriding. To others, they are the jokes made by a man who is comfortable in his identity, and who makes jokes to take power away from people who may want to use his queerness against him. It's really hard to argue this one way or the other, since Deadpool isn't a real person who we can ask to clarify. As such, how one feels about these jokes usually sits within the context of how they view Deadpool and the movies in general. Personally, I think that these jokes are meant to shock audiences, but I don't think they are actually intended to be hurtful. Especially when the funny part of most of the jokes is when he is making them, not that it's gay. Like, straight or gay, it's funny to talk about sex in a really emotional/tense moment, or in the middle of a fight. Particularly when you see how he treats the other queer people around him, not to mention, you know, the fact that he's canonically pansexual. (Frankly I find it kinda weird to go "aah there's a queer man making jokes about being a queer man!! How terrible!!" but that's my prerogative)

From movie 2 to 3 there does seem to be a change in how queerness is being treated. A positive change, in my opinion. Because Deadpool isn't making all that many jokes in this one, he's got a few for sure (Wolverine has one or two as well!!) but a lot of what he's doing is becoming genuinely close to Wolverine. This shifts the dynamic, now it's not just Deadpool making gay jokes or advances to people who don't really reciprocate (to my memory, though I feel like Colossus may have flirted back at like the end of Deadpool 2?), instead the jokes are being reciprocated/responded to and the characters are being put on even ground. Wolverine is a realized character, just like Deadpool, so they are able to grow closer over the course of the movie, and form an actual connection and bond. (Also a lot of the gay jokes become "wow isn't wolverine so hot?" jokes)

Important to also add that yes, they do start the movie with a very fraught and tense relationship, they are both very violent characters, Wolverine has crazy anger issues, and Deadpool makes everything a joke. All of these things are important to their characters and story! If you took some of those early interactions out of context you could argue that Wolverine isn't reciprocating or something of the like, but that would require ignoring the majority of the film. They are kinda crazy and impervious characters who have opposite personalities in a high stakes setting, of course they are going to fight and try to harm one another.

As much as it's already been talked to death, it is genuinely important to discuss the metaphors in this movie. Because as funny as the Honda jokes are, that scene is heavily implied to be a sex scene. This is the art of film, what you cannot show the viewer, you must convey some other way. The fight happens to You're The One That I Want, they repeatedly stab intimate places (stabbing as metaphor for penetration), the way they position themselves in the car and through themselves at each other, and the camera panning towards the bumper as the car shakes (a classic fade to black sex move). This is all movie language, and it is vital to understanding what a movie is portraying.

The climax is also very important in this regard, because as camp as it is, they were willing to die for each other and in that willingness they were able to save each other. Like A Prayer is playing, they are holding hands, when Wolverine's shirt explodes Deadpool takes a moment to oggle him despite the fact that they're both getting absolutely electrocuted or whatever.

Now, despite all of this absolutely beautiful subtext, Deadpool and Wolverine do not get together. That is absolutely an important part of this conversation, their relationship is ultimately left ambiguous. But a queer man being in a homoerotic ambiguous relationship with another man, does not a queer bait make.

Vanessa is an important part of this discussion of course - though to preface this, I find their relationship really boring so I don't really remember a lot of what happened between them in the first movie. Deadpool is canonically pansexual, so his relationship with any woman does not make him any less queer. Though, it could be argued that she's been kept around as a character to make sure he's always in or longing for a straight relationship.

Some people have been arguing that the movie ends with Deadpool getting back together with her, which blatantly does not happen. They were in a weird stage of exes being friends at the start of the movie, where she was in a new relationship, and he was still pining. All he does at the end of the movie is go over to her to let her know he cares about her, which could be romantic or platonic - but IS NOT them getting together. And again - even if he still is in love with her by the end of the movie, he is still queer.

In addition, I don't think that Deadpool is monogamous. He's constantly flirting and showing interest in many different people. Now I don't remember if he ever has a conversation with Vanessa about monogamy, so I could be missing an important part of their dynamic. But as it stands to my knowledge, Deadpool being in love with Vanessa doesn't mean he's not in love with Wolverine.

Both of these potential relationships end in the air. And of the two (if we assume monogamy is important) Vanessa said she had a boyfriend, and Wolverine just moved into Deadpool's apartment. So Wolverine is in a much better position to end up with Deadpool than Vanessa is.

It's also good to note that everything we got in this movie was fought tooth and nail for by Ryan Reynolds and the movie's team. There is every chance that Deadpool and Wolverine's relationship would not be implied but rather outright in a world where studio opinions don't matter.

Everything that I've just described is not queerbaiting. A movie with queer people in it canonically, is not queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is when media sells a character/relationship as queer in order to get an audience and then tells that audience that they are not actually queer (usually done incredibly insultingly, think Sherlock). Marvel and Disney do not need to market towards queer people to get an audience, in fact marketing towards queer people is more likely to lose fans, and gain hate. It's also important to note that the marketing hasn't been marketing these two as queer, they aren't almost kissing in material, the cover is a friendship charm, the most they do is address the fact that Wolverine/Hugh Jackman is hot af. So it literally isn't queerbaiting.

Now, whether or not someone is disappointed in the level of queerness is completely up to the individual! Everyone is welcome to their opinions and feelings about the movie, disappointed or delighted. But a movie is not queerbaiting just because you are disappointed.

[naoristerling]

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a demigod is sent to the mortal plane by his god of a father as a punishment

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To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

Off-limits | 15,4k @hwangism143 irmão de best

hwang hyunjin was multiple things to you: incredible. god-like. everything. but most of all, he was off-limits. that is, until, you both are forced to share a room at a beach getaway. sounds perfectly romantic, right? except for your fear of the ocean and his recent break-up.

Hell Above | k @kim-miyeon

Seven Generations. That’s how long the Lee Family has operated their family business and have held their place as the “most powerful family organization the world had ever seen.” The next heir of the Hwang Family, the pawn of my grandfather’s game, my natural born enemy..

…and my beloved husband.

Allegedly, of course.

• Félix fanfic

Why does It Hurt ?

[luv-elixir]

❧ Body Electric ☙

Stepfather Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Word count : 7.4K

18+ Content warnings : Stepcest, manipulation, power imbalance, naïve/insecure reader, age gap, corruption, c*m-fetish, slight size kink, slapping, spitting, degradation, stepdad!Leon, stepdaughter!reader, reader has a tiny electra complex. (Slight mentions of reader being verbally abused by mother along with mommy/daddy issues.) Porn with plot.

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION! I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE ACTIONS WRITTEN BELOW; ALL THAT IS WRITTEN IS PURE FICTION AND FANTASY!

Summertime was always a weird time for you.

When you were a child, your parents would just send you off to a camp to avoid dealing with you for a while, and when you were sent back home, you’d hide in your room while they fought for hours on end.

Even after they got divorced, the arguments seemed to never end. A constant battle over who would have the responsibility of caring for you all summer finally being settled when your grandmother offered to take you in until the season was over.

Now, as a university student, you would be spending your summer at your mother and her new husband, Mr. Kennedy's, home.

Interactions with both your parents had been scarce when you started university. You simply just didn't have the time or energy for them to berate you with your hectic schedule. It was no surprise to hear your mother had been dating; with your father getting married a few years prior and her having a few boyfriends here and there, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about her love life. You did start caring when she told you she was engaged.

It came as a huge shock when you finally met the mystery man.

He was handsome.

Everything about him was striking; he was an Adonis, simply too beautiful to be human. So beautiful that you nearly forgot your mother was right there and that the only reason you met was because he was to marry her.

How could your mother draw a man like him into her iron-clad grip? He was charming, caring, attentive, conscientious, and frankly too good for a woman like her, or anyone for that matter. Leon Scott Kennedy was simply too good to be true.

You truly had no idea how they had gotten into a relationship. Hell, you didn't even know your mother wanted to get married again. It was all a huge question mark for you. The only thing you were sure of was his name, age, and your affinity for him.

The wedding happened exactly three months after you met. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help the sinful thoughts you had as they married. He just looked so handsome in his suit that you couldn’t help but fantasize about his big hands touching you, ignoring the wedding band tying him to your mother.

Laying in bed that night, furiously rubbing your aching clit, you moaned his name and thought of how you wished he was yours instead of your mother's. But more importantly, you tried to pull your head out of the clouds and make yourself remember that it would never happen.

Little did you know that all those countless nights you spent fantasizing about him, he was thinking of you too. It was his fucking honeymoon and he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Jerking himself off, thinking of your alluring face and delicate body. He couldn’t resist using the image of a little beauty like yourself to get him off, even while the beauty’s mother slept right beside him…

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You are so fucking naive and clueless to not realize how obvious you were being with your crush on your stepfather. It was clear as day to any man who had ever been lusted over that you liked Leon more than a stepdaughter should.

Of course Leon knew; he knew from the moment he saw that shyness show up in your beautiful eyes when he first introduced himself that you had a crush, and damn, he is more than happy about it.

Every time his precious stepdaughter and his wife left home he would snoop through his sweet angel's room. It started out small—just quick peeks, leaving everything alone—but overtime it began to escalate.

Leon only does it because he cares; he wants to make sure his precious baby is happy and isn’t getting into any trouble. At least that was his justification. He knew you were quite a covert girl; being raised Catholic and raised by sanctimonious (hypocritical) parents, you were never one to step out of line, fearing the wrath of your parents. Being sent to an all-girls Catholic school, your interactions with boys and men had been few and limited; he was sure the only friends you had who were boys were your family members. You were hardly ever allowed to go out without the supervision of your mother, but it still didn’t hurt to check. After all, you are now one of his responsibilities.

When Leon would go through your drawers to see the clothes you hid from your mother that you bought at cheap second-hand stores, knowing that she would scream and berate you for owning a skirt that goes above the knee, he would imagine how beautiful you must look in them and how happy you must be wearing something you truly liked, even if you could only wear it in the safety of your room; it made his heart flutter.

His favorite thing to do in your room was to read your diaries. He thought it was so adorable how you kept every single one that you’ve ever had. It was a big invasion of privacy, but you didn’t even bother to hide your most recent one, and he just couldn’t resist. Reading them was exhilarating; learning more about you and what goes on in your little head made him feel closer to you. Leon just wants to know so he can protect you better, understand you better, and learn to love you better.

He thought it was adorable how you’d write about almost every interaction he’s ever had with you, like the time he bought you your favorite singer's vinyl records and a Polaroid camera after you asked your mother if you could buy them yourself a few days prior and she refused to let you. You jumped into his arms, hugging him with all your heart and giving him infinite ‘thank you so much, Mr. Kennedy’s." It was the touchiest you’ve ever been with him, and your perfume lingers on the shirt he has tucked away, refusing to wash your scent from it.

One of Leon’s favorite diary entries of yours was the one where you first met. He loved it so much that he snapped a photo of it just so he could read it whenever he wanted.

February 1st

I just got back from dinner with mom and her fiancé, Leon Kennedy <3 I called him Mr. Kennedy all night even though he insisted I call him Leon cause I got so nervous and just couldn’t look him in the eye. He was so freaking handsome, he has the prettiest eyes. I never thought a man could be so handsome. It’s not fair how mom has him, she doesn’t deserve him. Gosh he’s just so handsome, I wanted him to just take me in his arms and kiss me like in the movies !!! I hate that his heart belongs to mom, how come she gets to have a man like Leon instead of some ugly fat bald dude ?? I know it’s so wrong but I can’t help but like him, he was so nice to me tonight my heart is still pounding. He even gave me a nickname ! He said I look like a doll and called me doll face more than my name, gosh my heart is fluttering just thinking about it !!! If anyone finds out I’ll just die, this is so so so wrong but I can’t help it. I know he’s going to be my stepfather but I want him to look at me with his pretty eyes, I want him to hold my hand, I want him to be the one to hold me, I want him to say I love you to me, I want to be the one marrying him instead of my contemptible mother !!! I know it’s perverse and dirty but I wish he wanted me instead of her.

Leon loved it. He loved seeing the vicious, possessive, dirty side of you.

What he loved even more was reading your entries about how much you wanted him to love on you, even if it was rather on the innocent side. Just something about you writing down your fantasies made his cock stir, reading things like-

May 26th

I’ve been with mom and Leon for 2 days, my stuff is all moved into the house and it basically looks the same.

I saw Leon <3 and mom through the kitchen window while I was reading in the backyard kissing and he had his hand on her neck but then she yanked it away and rolled her eyes before leaving. If I were her I’d let him do what he wanted to me. If I knew how to french kiss I’d do it with him all the time, let him wrap his hand around my neck while I sit in his lap and just french kiss for hours. All my friends have done it before but I’ve only gotten the tiniest of pecks. I know it’s sinful to like my stepdad but fantasy never hurt anyone ??

-Leon would teach you how to french kiss and so much more.

Digging through your panty drawer, his eyes widened. Instead of seeing your usual cotton underwear with cute patterns, he instead saw a pair of lace white panties with a pink bow at the bottom of the drawer as an attempt to hide it away. This was clearly meant to be a set of sorts. He felt his heart nearly burst as he sifted through your bras to get to the bottom, only to find the matching white lace bra with a pink bow in the middle.

Why the fuck did you have these?

Was there someone you were going to wear them for?

He needed answers and he needed them now. He hadn’t read your diary yet so he hoped that the answer could be in there. Snatching it from your desk, his eyes frantically scanned through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

June 3rd

Mom let grandmother take me out shopping with her and I had a really good time !! I do miss spending summers there but getting to see Leon makes up for it hehe :) I really do wish mom would let me see grandmother more often though. She took me to the mall and she got me a bikini and a pair of actual proper lingerie !!! I know it might be weird for her to buy me that but she told me every girl needs a proper pair and mom would kill me if I asked her and I just wanted to have something to make me feel pretty even if no one knows I have it. It feels good to be a little more normal, it sucks that all the other girls get to show off their pretty swimsuits and wear pretty lingerie while i look like a chump in my stupid one piece bathing suit and stupid cotton underwear and ugly bras. Mom says it’s gross to have these things even though I saw the receipt from a lingerie store on the table right before her honeymoon, what a hypocrite. I had to sneak it in wearing both the bikini and bra under my normal clothes haha, I’m even wearing my new garments as I’m writing this. I think I’ll even change into my bikini in a little bit just for fun. It was a good day :).

Jesus you are so fucking cute

Relief washed over him instantly, but his heart cracked. You're such a beautiful girl, and you didn’t even know it. He saw the way boys and men would look at you; he even saw the jealousy in your own mother's eyes. How did you not know that you were drop-dead gorgeous? With beauty like yours, you could wear rags and still be the most beautiful thing to walk the earth. You looked exactly like a doll, you didn't need lingerie or bikinis to be pretty.

Leon knew from reading all your journals that the reason you felt this way was because of your upbringing; your parents weren’t exactly ones to instill confidence but preferred to tear you down and keep you in a constant state of vacillation so you’d have to constantly rely on them.

A notification dragged him from his thoughts—a text from your mother saying that you’d both be home in 5 minutes—as he began to clean he kept thinking of how beautiful you looked in your pretty lingerie and how he would be getting to actually see you in it soon.

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This was absolutely perfect.

The moment the words left your mother's mouth, Leon felt the blood rush to his pants. When he glanced at you sitting on the sofa and saw you squish your thighs together, he knew you felt the same heat too.

It was like the stars aligned; your mother would leave for her close friends bachelorette party week abroad in Mexico and leave you and Leon all alone. Fate was truly on both your sides.

Until he heard your mothers voice say-

"You could always spend the week at your father's if you don’t want to stay here with Leon, honey. We can drop you off the night before I leave. Would you rather do that?"

Fuck, maybe you would say you wanted to be with your father.

"No, no, it’s alright. I want to be here with all my stuff and adjust to the new house better; I'm still getting used to it."

Another wave of relief washed over him.

“Okay honey, are you okay with that Leon?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll be working most of it anyway.”

A lie, he would immediately call the DSO to tell them he’d be taking the entire week off.

Leon glanced at you once again to see you looking at your lap trying to hide the smile forming on your pretty lips.

This week he’s finally going to make you his.

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Your poor heart was about to pound out of your chest. Leon had taken your mother to the airport three and a half hours ago for her flight, and all you could do was pace around Leon’s home. What was taking him so long to come back? Chalking it up to airports being a pain you continued pacing. Knowing you and Leon would be alone for the week made the feeling of anxiety coursing through your veins increase.

You tried your best to look nice, taking the time to make your hair look pretty and putting on more makeup than usual now that your mother couldn’t tell you to wipe it off. Rebelling even more, you put on a cute sundress that would send your parents into cardiac arrest if they were here to see you wearing it.

It really did feel nice to doll yourself up.

Finally, when you finished and looked at the large mirror in the hallway to admire your work, it hit you. You were doing all this for your own mother's husband. You did this to impress your stepfather. What the hell is the matter with you? This is wrong, and dirty, and nasty. Even if he wasn’t tied to your mother why would ever want a puny girl like you?

Damn it, you should’ve just spent the week with your father and stepmother, even if you’d be miserable. You’d probably just be a nuisance to Leon anyway; he’ll probably just spend the week avoiding you. God, why didn’t you just bite the bullet and go to your father's? You should’ve never agreed to stay the week, it was doomed from the start.

Being so drowned in your thoughts you only heard the door being unlocked when it was too late…

CRAP

“Hey doll, I’m back from the airport!”

The door is about 1/4 open.

CRAP CRAP CRAP

What can you do? Running to your room won’t work; the staircase is directly in front of the door. Hiding isn’t worth the risk of getting caught and looking more stupid than you already do. You don’t know the house well enough, so if there is a blind spot where you can sneak off to so you can quickly get changed, you definitely don’t know it.

Too late.

Leon is now standing two and a half feet in front of you.

Nervously smoothing the bottom of your dress, all you could do was look down at his shoes as his eyes practically burned holes into you.

“Wow. You look very nice today.”

You felt your face get hot as embarrassment washed over you. Is he mocking you? His voice didn’t sound mocking but you never know. Even if he is you can’t just stand there like an idiot!!! Say something, anything!!!

“Thanks, Mr. Kennedy.”

You mentally slap yourself.

Was THAT really the best you could do??? At least you didn’t stutter. Raising your head, you finally meet his eyes and see how sincere they are.

“I’ve told you hundreds of times to call me Leon sweetheart.”

He won’t admit it out loud to you yet, but he secretly loves your formality. He gets a little rush every time you call him “Mr. Kennedy” and “sir”. His wife raised such a polite young woman, he can’t wait to see what else he can get you to call him.

“Are you hungry doll? I’ll order or make you whatever you want.” He has his very big hand on your shoulder rubbing soothing circles on your skin and you feel electricity all throughout your body.

“I’m okay right now Mr. Kenn- Leon. But thank you for offering.” He moves his hand to rub your shoulder and you want the moment to linger as long as possible.

“Okay doll, I’m gonna go take a quick shower.” His very big hand leaves all too soon, “After I’m done I’ll meet you in the game room so we can do something fun tonight, you okay spending some time with me sweetheart?”

You felt a jolt of excitement at his offer, “Okay, I’ll be waiting there for you!”

With one last smile to one another you both head your separate ways.

You felt so happy that Leon wanted to spend his time with you instead of just going out or staying in his room to avoid you, you knew it was wrong to want his attention but you just couldn’t help it. He was the one who offered, and you were raised to always be polite and accept invitations, your parents only had themselves to blame. Why should you care about her feelings when she’s never cared about yours? After all it was your mother’s choice to leave her husband all alone so she could have her fun, so why shouldn’t you indulge yourself and have your own fun too?

During your epiphany, Leon was in the shower stroking his cock, thinking of you standing there in your pretty little dress, looking more vulnerable than a deer in headlights. It took everything in him not to push you to the floor and stuff your tiny pussy full of his big cock. He wondered if you had your regular Sanrio cotton panties or your lingerie on underneath?

He imagined your little whines and whimpers, saying how he’s too big and won’t fit so he only fucks you with half his length until he can stretch you out more, how sexy you would look riding him. Thinking of how you’d shyly guide his hand to wrap around your neck as he fucks you into oblivion.

Did you even know the effect you had on him? he thought of you every second of the day. he saw your angelic face everytime he closed his eyes, had constant dreams of you. He thought of how much happier he’d be if you had been his bride instead of your mother. Hell you’d probably faint from embarrassment if you knew even a sliver of his fantasies about you.

Wrapping a towel around his waist Leon couldn’t help but smirk as he thinks of all the things he would be doing to his precious stepdaughter tonight.

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Sitting cross-legged on the floor, trying to shuffle a deck of cards, the TV played an Impractical Jokers re-run softly in the background as Leon finally came downstairs.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, secretly admire how good he looked. He wore gray sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt that clung to him deliciously tight, showing off his muscles beautifully. Having felt self-conscious in your dress and the sun having set, you changed into your sleep shirt and shorts while Leon was gone, and he loved it. Your thin pajamas hugged your figure so well that he had to look away before his cock hardened.

Now all he had to do was execute his plan. First he’d put in a scary movie (a classic way to get a girl to cling onto her beau), gain your trust, and finally he’d fuck the shit out of you.

“Hey doll, thanks for holding up,” Reaching over to turn off the lamp, he cheekily smiles at you “What do you say we watch a movie? I know a good scary one I think you’d like.”

Nervousness crept into you as you toyed with your shorts, “Oh I’ve never really seen a horror movie before, my parents have never let me… but I want to watch it though!”

‘A night of firsts’ Leon thought. “I’ll put it on, it’s an older movie but it’s a classic. Why don’t you come up here and sit next to me sweetheart?” He patted the spot next to him on the sofa, “Don’t want you to be all by yourself down there.”

Shyly, you got up, Leon gently grabbed your hand and sat you next to him. You hadn’t been this close to him since he bought you those gifts a couple weeks ago; you nearly forgot how he was even more handsome up close and personal. Picking at your fingernails, you waited anxiously as the movie began. Putting his arm around your shoulder, he somehow made you get even closer to him, his cologne and shampoo invading your senses. Rubbing his hand up and down your arm, he could feel the goosebumps forming on your soft skin.

25 minutes had passed, and you had practically molded yourself into his side. The movie was scary, of course, but you couldn’t blame snuggling into Leon on just being scared. You knew exactly what you were doing, and as long as Leon was okay with it, you’d keep doing it. This was your only opportunity to get a taste of what it was like to be with him, and goddamn, you were going to take it.

When a jump scare happened you let out a small scream and hid your face in his neck, clinging to him tightly. The cogs turned in Leon’s brain; everything was going according to plan.

Sliding his arm down to your waist he held your head with his other hand, “You scared baby?”

Your heart beat faster at the pet name, “A little bit…”

“You shouldn’t be sweetheart,” He caresses your face. “I’m right here to protect you.”

His breath was fanning your face; you were so close to him that you could see every beautiful, unique detail that marked his skin.

The lump suddenly comes back to your throat.

“You’re so angelic,” he tugs you even closer than you were before, “look just like a doll.”

Blush spreads across your face, kissing the palm of Leon’s big hand you sheepishly put one hand on his chest and the other on one of his big arms, tracing gentle circles with your small fingers. “Do you really mean that Leon?”

“Course I mean it baby,” placing you on his lap, he made sure to position you so you’d feel his hard cock under your cunt, “most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

A tiny smirk appeared on your lips, “More beautiful than my mother?”

His cock was pulsing hearing that come from your pouty lips.

“Especially more beautiful than her,” you began pressing tiny kisses to his jaw, “can see the envy in her eyes every time she looks at you.”

And with that he dove in and kissed you. It felt electrifying as he slipped his tongue into your hot mouth, pressing it as deep as he can go. You whined when he pulled away, quickly giving him a small peck.

"Fuck, doll face" he sighs, scattering gentle pecks on your neck, “You like how I kiss you, hm?" his big hands wander down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and making you moan.

"A-ah, Leon," you whimper, his hands not leaving your ass. Leon just smirks and pulls your body closer to him. He leans down to kiss your lips once more, but it was rougher. He wraps his arm around your body, tugging you firmer, while his other hand cups your cheek. Leon’s in control of the kiss, you just try your best to keep up with him. You whined once again when he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you both together.

“You finally got a real kiss, and now you can’t get enough, can you, dirty girl?” He wiped the spit from your lips with his finger, placing it in his mouth to taste both your mixtures. Your cheeks were flushed red from how turned on you are for him.

“Let’s continue this in the bedroom nasty girl,” picking you up bridal style he carried you up the stairs,“gonna need more room to do what I want to you.”

Making a beeline for your bedroom, upon entry giving you a chaste kiss before guiding you to stand between his legs.

“Be a good girl and take my cock out.”

You just nodded your head, obeying him immediately. You'd done some research, so you weren't as naïve as you had been before, and you were hoping he'd give you the chance to show him what you learned. Leon began removing his shirt as you began to scoot down, by the look of an evident bulge, you could tell his cock was gonna be big. Leon watches you with hazy eyes, petting your hair softly.

You felt your heart rate go faster from the thought of seeing his cock right in front of your face. Quickly tugging his sweatpants and boxers down his hard cock slaps against his stomach and bobs forward, the thick tip smearing your cheek with his precum.

Leon reaches for your face to wipe it off but you grab his wrist and lower it. Your mouth is watering. He’s so thick and long, how was he supposed to fit in your mouth let alone your pussy?

With no plan at all, you leaned forward and enveloped the head of his cock between your pretty lips. He hissed at the sudden contact, your tongue tasting his precum beading at the tip. It was a little salty, but hearing Leon’s deep groan of pleasure, you’d learn to love the taste.

You released his length for a moment with a pop and spat on him, watching your saliva trickle down his heavy cock. Taking your small hand you pumped it up and down, spreading your spit all around his fat cock.

“Holy shit! Where the hell did you learn to do that, doll?”

You blushed, letting out a small giggle, and licked his tip, “Watched a porno, wanted to learn how before I did it to you.”

Opening your mouth to slip his cock back in before he could respond, you tried to take as much of him as you could. He moaned, eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly began to suck his cock. His grip in your hair tightened and the tinge of pain had you gushing into your panties. You whimpered around him, clenching your thighs together to help ease the pressure between your legs.

He let you suck on him, lathering his member in your spit until you reached the point where you couldn't handle anymore of his cock in your mouth.

"C'mon angel, try to take more of daddy in that slutty throat," He growled, you choked but did your best to relax your throat to allow him to fuck your mouth. Your panties were soaked and sticking to you, having your handsome stepfather use your throat as he pleased was a turn on.

"Look at that. Bad little girl aren't you? You're my bad, naughty girl." Leon mocks, watching tears drip down your cheeks.

You sucked him off like your life depended on it, slurping and moaning around his big cock. Using your hand on what your mouth couldn’t reach to try and make him cum.

"Fuck my love, you're doing so damn good. Sucking your Daddy's cock so good." he moans, hand still gripping your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper once again. The gagging sent shivers down his spine.

Saliva continuously dripped down your chin, "So messy for your daddy, my baby" he suddenly pulled out, leaving you a panting mess before him.

Lifting you in his arms he tenderly kissed your forehead, "Did such a good job sucking me off angel, always knew you were secretly a whore. Love how sloppy you are, can’t wait to teach you how to deep-throat me."

Your body shivers from how deep and alluring his voice sounded, “Anything for you.” you practically moan, quickly you pressed a kiss to Leon’s nose and tried to wriggle out of his arms.

Confused Leon gently put you down, sat back on your bed, and waited to see what you were going to do. “Keep pumping your cock!” You quickly went over to your dresser and grabbed the Polaroid camera he got you. He almost had a heart attack hearing what came out of your mouth.

“I want you to cum on my face and take a photo of it. Is that okay with you?”

Leon practically snatched the camera from you, “Shit doll, didn’t know you were this nasty. Hurry up and suck me off so I can fuck you after this.” he quickly pushed you to your knees.

He shoved your head on his cock, becoming impatient. He just wanted to feel your tight mouth on him again. His free hand tangled in your hair once more as he started to push himself further in your mouth. Your eyes instantly teary as he reached your gag-reflex, making your throat burn. Looking down at your pretty face made his self-control snap and he lifted his hips up, forcing his whole cock down your throat. Two more thrusts and he pulled out, his hot cum spurting all over your face.

Snapping two photos on the camera he placed the three items on the floor and lifted you up on the bed, "Open that pretty mouth again for me, my love." You instantly do what he tells you, allowing him to spit in your mouth and without being told to, you swallow happily.

Gathering his cum on your fingers you happily lick them clean, “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna go wash my face real quick!” and Leon waits patiently, stewing in anticipation.

Re-entering your room Leon saw that you ditched your pajamas and now only wore the lingerie he found in your room just days ago.

You truly are the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

"C’mere baby girl, come here." Leon coos and pulls your body close to him. You straddle his lap, feeling his cock beneath your folds. He wraps his strong arms around you, his face inches from yours. He clutches your throat with one hand, squeezing it.

He presses a sloppy kiss to your swollen lips, "Ready for me to finally fuck you, my baby?”

You nod your head the best you can. "Please, want it so bad daddy"

"You think you can take my cock?"

You hate how flustered he can make you. You only nod and lean in for another kiss, letting Leon take control of it once again.

“I can take it. Promise I can.”

“Okay doll,” he nips at your jaw, “just gotta prep you first.”

Prep?

Every coherent thought leaves your mind as you watch him unclip your bra, exposing you to him. Before you can cover yourself, Leon snatches your wrist with his hand and shoots you a warning look before kissing and sucking at your sensitive breasts. Holding onto him as he laid you on your back, you waited to see his next move.

His hand cups your panty-clad cunt and you jolt, panicking at the sensation your legs closed on instinct, Leon growled, "Open your fucking legs or I’ll leave right now..."

You whimpered, startled by Leon’s tone as he pushed them back open. Leon smiled, pecking your lips quickly, "Be a good girl, doll..."

Feeling you up, he stroked your clothed pussy with his fingers softly. Your little hand reached for his free one, putting his pointer and middle finger to your lips you began to suck on them. He pressed his fingers harder on your cunt, specifically on your cute little clit making you moan around his digits.

"You feel good, angel?" Leon asked softly as you nodded, feeling relaxed you kept your legs open no longer needing Leon to help keep them spread. But Leon was going too slow and you were starting to get frustrated.

"M-more..." You quietly begged him, making him chuckle darkly. Leon could see your hips thrusting up harder into his hand, wanting more friction as you became more desperate.

"Such a cute doll, aren't you?" Dazed, eyes barely open, mouth slightly gaped, a little drool from when you sucked his fingers in the corners of your sweet mouth. ‘She looks so fuckable.’

He was tempted to just shove his fat cock inside your tight virgin cunt and make you take it, no matter how much it hurt, and he would have if it was anyone else. But you aren’t just anyone; you're his stepdaughter, his precious baby who deserves to have her pussy fingered and eaten out, so he pushes the thought out of his mind.

Leon just wants to fuck you stupid, "Let's get these off you..." Taking a look at your cunt, he noticed your panties had a wet spot on them that seemed to be getting bigger.

"Look at that, baby... So wet..." His fingers touched the wet patch, feeling the stickiness on his fingertips, he bent down, "Fuck, you smell so good my love..."

Leon took off your ruined panties and he could feel the hunger devour him right then and there. Saliva gathered in his mouth, a voice in his head telling him to just dive in and eat your little cunt like it was the last thing he'll ever have.

So he listened.

Leon dove in without a warning, his tongue collecting the juices that seep out of your cunt as you screamed, "L-Leon!!!"

"So sweet. Taste so fucking sweet..." He growled as he sucked the puffy little nub in between his lips, softly biting it and making you thrash underneath him, arching your back as you called out his name, "You're just a little skank, aren't you?"

"N-not a skank, Leon! Feels... Feels w-weird..." you whimper and grab onto his hair, Leon didn't stop sucking, licking, he gave his all as you felt tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes.

"Just a dumb fucking bitch. Nasty little slut that loves how her stepfather plays with her pussy." He collected his saliva inside his mouth and spits on your cunt, making you more of a mess as his fingers roam your entrance.

Without a warning his fingers start ramming inside you—moving them rapidly up and down, hitting the spots you didn't even know existed. You couldn’t think straight, not when he spat on your cunt and made you know how good it felt to have your pussy doted on. You were crying, wanting him to slow down but despite it hurting, you still wanted more.

He moved his tongue and fingers in sync, rubbing your swollen clit at a fast pace trying to get his good girl to cum as fast as he can and repeat the process over and over again. Leon wanted to make the bed drenched with your cum.

Leon could feel your walls clenching on his fingers, restraining his movements he knew you were close. Then he went harder and harder, pressing down on the puffy nub as you screamed, the tears on your face evident.

"You gonna cum, aren't you, babydoll? Are you gonna be a good girl for me? You deserve this so much, baby. Watched you for so long, been dreaming of this day since I met you" He slaps you across your face, savoring the moment, "That's right, doll... Let the whole neighborhood know how good I'm making you feel. Show daddy know how much of a whore you are."

Leon’s right, you really are a slut.

Stars clouded your vision. The knot in your stomach made you feel like you were going to pee, feeling it coiling in your belly, it grows bigger and bigger.

Suddenly something so unexpected happens that shocked you both. Leon can feel the gush of stream hitting him as you twitch in his grasp, moaning so loud he knows the neighbors will hear it. The clear stream of liquid told its tale and Leon knows exactly what it is.

"L-Leon!" your thighs shook frantically as you cried, he could only smirk seeing you squirt all over his hands and mouth.

"Good fucking girl," he gives a few gentle slaps to your aching pussy "Gonna make you my own personal porn star, doll face. Bet you’d fuckin’ love that."

You just stare at him with heart eyes. Grabbing the back of his head to make him lean down, you licked from his chin back up to his lips so you could taste yourself.

Leaning back he kisses your forehead, “It’s going to hurt a little more cause you have such a tight cunt, but I’ll go slow. I promise,” he says with furrowed brows.

You loop your arms around his neck, and nod, hoping that the he can see the adoration you feel for him in your eyes. Leon nods back stiffly as his eyes flit to your lips before kissing you hard, once again. Though this time, while his lips are on yours, one of his hands reaches between you both, gripping the base of his cock. He rubs it between your folds, the tip brushing against your clit making you moan, high pitched and sweet into his mouth. 

You brace yourself for the stretch of his big cock. When he finally bottoms out, you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders where your hands were rested. He hisses, and your brows furrow with worry when you feel the tiny pricks of blood oozing out.

“I’m sorry,” you panic, tears prickling your eyes from both the pain of your hymen breaking and the fear of hurting him. “Are you mad? Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m so sorry,” you softly cry.

Here Leon is, balls deep in the wettest, tightest pussy he’s ever had, and you’re asking him if he’s mad at you. As if a few little fingernail scratches could actually hurt him. He laughs a little, trying not to move before you’ve adjusted to him being inside of you. “You could punch me in the face and I’d still adore you. I’m fine,” he says as he pecks your nose.

To make you forget about it he leans forward and groans, wrapping a hand around your throat as he starts slowly fucking you. "That’s my good girl," he chuckles, hearing his balls slap against you, "taking this huge dick like a whore."

"Yes, yes, r-right there daddy! Hurts so good!" his words were made you blush red, turned on from the way he was spoke to you. You love it — you love surrendering yourself to him, letting him do whatever he wants with your body, loved to let him use you like a sex toy.

"Yeah? My little bitch loves how I fuck her hard with my cock?" You don't even need to answer because he can feel it. He sees his cock protruding against your stomach, your pussy too little to accommodate his big dick.

The hand that was once wrapped around your neck moves up to your face as he forces two fingers inside your wet mouth.

Your eyes roll back, choking as he went past your gag reflex.

"It’s s-so big," you mumble around his digits, your saliva coating his fingers as you swirled your tongue around them. “Love it so much,”

"Dick too big to fit inside this little cunt. such a little baby I’ve got here." He gives a light slap to your puffy clit, “Can see it moving in your stomach, babydoll. My cock is the only one you need. Know it hurts but you’re gonna take it like a big girl, yeah?”

You quickly reply, pussy clenching, "Yes, just p-please don’t stop," you say through his fingers, batting your eyelashes.

His lips curve up in a smile, loving how cute you said that, "Mhm, 'course you love it. My little cum-slut can't get enough of her stepdads big cock."

You two were a hot, moaning messes. Looking up at him pathetically Leon’s cock throbs at the sight of you all used, your face flushed. "Want to cum, sweet girl?"

Wanton moans filled the room as you nodded your head.

“Only way I’ll let you is if you tell me what I want to hear," he squishes your cheeks together, “Wanna hear you say that this is your daddy’s pussy and that you belong to him and him only. Say it and I’ll make you cum, babydoll.”

Your cunt squeezes him tightly, you love how he only wants you for himself.

“M-my pussy is daddy’s, and I o-only belong to him!”

He slaps your cheek harder than he did before and soothes you with a sloppy kiss.

His thrusts gets rougher, pounding right into your sweet spot before he sends you to a hard, body-shaking climax. Your vision blurs, seeing stars as your pussy squirts your cum onto his dick. "There we go, baby. Cum on daddy’s cock – fucking little minx!."

You only have the energy to moan, brain dead at the staggering orgasm.

He comes undone right after, hot strings of cum coating your tight walls. Pulling out, he groans when he sees both of your mixed cum oozing out of your cunt and onto your comforter.

Leaning down he places his long fingers in your messy pussy, shoving his cum back inside.

"C’mere, my love," he plants his hands on your stomach and lays you on his chest, kissing your hairline.

You both lay still for a couple minutes, catching your breath. You listen to his heartbeat come back to a steady pace as he rubs your back and shoulders up and down, kissing your head every once in a while.

“Did I hurt you, sweetheart?” Leon says breaking the comfortable silence.

Nuzzling further in his chest you hold him tighter, “M’fine Leon, just sore.”

You hear his heartbeat quicken again.

“Did such a good job baby, thank you for letting me do this to you.” He tugs your head back, pressing a long kiss to your swollen lips.

You feel your heart stop as he moves you and gets up from your bed. You grab his hand and he lets out a small laugh, giving it a kiss, “M’not going anywhere doll, just gonna put my pants back on and get you some clean panties.”

A small smile spreads across your face, relieved he wasn’t leaving you all alone. When he comes back he holds you as tight as he can without suffocating you.

Holding his jaw, he can barely hear you whisper a scared “Thought you were gonna abandon me.”

You’d never have to worry about him leaving you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it doll face” he squeezes your throat, “I’m never letting you go, whether you like it or not...”

[kithtaehyung]

minted: part two (snippet) (m) | myg

snippet: minted: part two (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au series: masterlist | part one summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, y’all. thank you so much for the love on this series already! it’s been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! enjoy this snippet since i missed the initial part two drop! note 2: this series is for @sailoryooons, @joonary, and @minttangerines! love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma, poor reader :(((, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeee…, tension, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn est. drop date: september 16th, 2024 snippet word count: 1.5k est. total word count: 9k >:))

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—

There’s something to be said about the human gut. 

Not because it’s the source of multiple health aspects, or the way it’s connected to the brain. 

But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.

Who is this person next to you? 

Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run? 

You don’t know if you released your hand or if Yoongi let it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.

How can someone’s profile be so troublingly handsome? You’d be able to think more clearly if he wasn’t both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply weren’t on the verge of collapse.

Frankly, if you didn’t just murder a man you’d pass out as soon as you took too long to blink. 

To keep yourself alert—and to hopefully gather some much needed intel—you suddenly question aloud, “Where are we?”

No answer.

Alright.

“That driver called you Agust,” you recap on a second go. “What was that about?”

All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else he’s doing besides talking. 

Okay. Well.

You can face forward, too. 

“Those guys after us,” you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. “They didn’t look like Crane.”

“Doesn’t mean they weren’t.”

Your neck almost snaps when you turn. “Are you kidding me?”

As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you can’t believe he doesn’t agree. 

Mm. Does he?

From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume you’re right to some degree. Because it looks like he’s very, very bothered by the people that chased you down. 

If those weren’t any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbers…

What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?

Geez, it’s freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You can’t even appreciate the way Yoongi’s veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.

Lies. You absolutely can. But there’s no way in hell you’re ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you! 

Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too? 

But that taxi drive…

Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff. 

Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved. 

All you wanna do is go home, and you don’t even know where that is. 

How far did you travel? What district is this? You’ve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.

That brings up another question. “If we’re in a grey zone, how did you know—”

A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.

But the elevator doesn’t say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on? 

One thing’s for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if there’s only one bed you’re hogging it or taking the…

Floor…

There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling. 

But when the elevator doors slide open, you can’t even fathom what the fuck you’re dealing with. 

And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are. 

“Holy shit,” you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.

Don’t elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?

Forget a whole floor, it’s a whole other place.

You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.

The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like you’ve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?

How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home. 

And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors. 

Perfect.

“What.” 

You turn at the scrape of Yoongi’s voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, “Who… Who even are you? What is this place?”

He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. “There’s a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.” 

…Is that really his only response?

“That’s not what I asked,” you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.

“But it’s what you need.”

“Say what now?” 

The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket. 

But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends. 

This is all too much. 

“You know what I need? To go home,” you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. “Have a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.” 

You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm, and the voice you hear courses through your ears, “The fuck are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.”

“You serious?”

“Yes, I am. So move.”

Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps aside wait he’s gonna let you go that easily? 

…Oh.

That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isn’t one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than once—in mere hours—that he’s no regular civilian. Nor man, for that matter.

But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization. 

No matter how you slice it, you’re much better off with him than you are by yourself right now. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun. 

He did keep you alive that whole chase.

But there’s the smallest, tiniest chance that you aren’t quite safe with Yoongi, either. You don’t even know who he is anymore—maybe you never did.

So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.

Good. You don’t need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life you’ve chosen to lead again. 

Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done. 

And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again. 

Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal. 

Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you don’t, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back. 

No good. No good no good you didn’t plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance? 

You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room you’ll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic. 

Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; it’s obvious he doesn’t care so why should you? No going back now. You’ll figure it out. The doors are finally opening. 

And someone’s inside?

Wait.

Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.

Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a hotel employee, right? They wouldn’t be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches. 

However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire. 

Because you can’t do this alone. You aren’t nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not. 

You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse. 

And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongi’s stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions and words you can’t name.

Yeah.

You fucked up.

Fuck.

-

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tbc. :))

-

are we ready for the drop?! | join the taglist!

a/n: this is just the beginning!! who knowwwws what's gonna happen during the rest of the 9k+ lsdkfjdskl thank you all so much for hanging in there for me as i navigate multiple hobbies and endeavors. it means a lot to see your words of encouragement! always appreciated, and i hope you look forward to the real drop hehehe. more links: masterlist

[yourmomisdateingme]

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted something but here’s a Yuu angst story for you!

Yuu is gender neutral also I’m not the best at writing but I tried my best with this I hope you like it!

XXX

I can’t hold my rage anymore

It was a day like any other day, but there was something in the sky that was giving a warning. When every house warden showed up to the meeting including Crowley….. but something was missing, not something but someone. At the the thought of the yuu not being there, there was a sudden pounce of thunder and lighting at once. It was so unexpecting because of how it was sunny all day; everyone in the room had all jumped from the sound.

After everyone has relaxed after the commotion there were loud and fast foot steps as if someone was running with all there force. You could hear it echo down the hall. There was a split second when it stoped but then the door slammed open.

“ILL KILL YOU!” Someone had screamed and pounced at Crowley, that’s someone happened to be yuu!?

“AGH!” Crowley had yelped when his body hit the ground. Yuu had a dagger at Crowley throat ready to slice and dice.

“What the-?!” Leona had gasped in shock as to seeing yuu attack.

“Yuu! Stop!” Azul has yelled with wide eyes as he jolted forward to help.

“I’m sorry yuu…..” riddle whispered under his breath as he took a deep breath. “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD” riddle had yelled activating his unique magic.

Riddle was always very lenient about using his powers against someone he cares about...especially with what happened to him back then, But this right now was a serious matter.

The heart shaped collar wrapped around Yuu's neck shocking them as the dagger had fallen from their grasp. Crowley quickly took advantage of this as he kicks the dagger into the corner of the room.

“AGH! Get this stupid thing off me!” Yuu had yelled in anger, they then start grabbing at the collar trying desperately to get it off.

“I’m Sorry Yuu but no... I can’t let you do this!” Riddle yelled trying to reason with yuu.

“Yuu-kun, what's gotten into you?!” Kalim yelled in desperation, kalim couldn’t believe anything that just happened and frankly he didn’t want to.

“Y-Yeah...W-We never see you like this before…” lida said barely above a whisper, he eyes show clear concern for his friend.

“Why did you tried to attack Headmaster Crowley?” Malleus asked butting into the non-existent conversation. They all wanted answers but yuu wasn’t answering them. In the meantime Crowley was completely silent, almost as if he knows the reason for the attack.

“Why?” Yuu had chuckled angrily and he facepalmed there self. Yuu glared at the dorm leaders, who surprisedly all flinched, seeing the look in there eyes... It was a look that scream anger, hatred, & rage.

“Why?! DON'T GIVE ME THAT BULL! You All Know Why! You Were All There When It Happened!!” Yuu snapped out at them, his body was trembling with anger and….. sadness?

They all looked down at their feet, a guilty conscious set adrift in their hearts.

He was right. They all know why he's mad.

Because...of what happened to...

The only thing you could hear from the center of the destruction was yuu’s sobs. They were crawling at the ground screaming at the sky.

“Grim...GRIM!!!” Yuu yells pitifully.

“Y-Yuu-kun... You know I had no choice.” Crowley didn’t even have an ounce of remorse for yuu’s lose, he didn’t care what happened, the only he cares about is his reputation.

“BULLSHIT! YOU HAD A CHOICE! YOU JUST CHOOSE TO GET RID OF HIM!!!” Yuu quickly took Crowley by the shoulder, all Crowley could see was the absolute anger in yuu’s eyes.

“THERE COULD'VE BEEN ANOTHER WAY! ANOTHER WAY TO SAVE HIM!!!! W-WHEN HE OVERBLOTED...!” Yuu started to sob uncontrollably, the death grip on Crowleys shoulders only tightening.

“WHY??!” Yuu sobbed out, they wanted answers but in the back of their mind they already knew the answer to her question.

It happened right after Malleus' Overblot...

After eating Malleus black blot stone Grim becomes a giant chimera while everyone, including Yuu, is watching. Seeing his best friend become such a monster, ultimately destroys Yuu, inside out.

Yuu was devastaded. Grim has been with him ever since the very beginning of his stay in Twisted Wonderland. Sure he may have caused lots of problems for him there was no denying that Yuu also cares for Grim.

Grim have showed to have grow kind of fond & compassionate of Yuu.

Grim could've just left Scarabia alone and left Yuu behind but he didn't. He stayed...he stayed for Yuu. They went on many adventures together and they became more than just master and servant.

They formed a bond with each other...but now...that bond was gone.

Yuu had tried everything to call out for him and try to snap him out of it. He even had to approach him but sadly...overblot Grim wouldn't recognize them, instead glaring at them with irrational hatred, no trace of his old memories coming back.... He was no longer Grim. But a monster overbolt.

The dorm leaders had no choice but to get Yuu away from Grim while Crowley showed up...and made his own decision to end Grim's life because he viewed him as dangerous. Despite Yuu's pleads, Crowley ignored him and put Grim out of his misery.

Everyone stayed silent but vil couldn’t stand to see the beautiful, kind perfect sob in-front if him. He didn’t know what to say to the only thing that left his mouth was “Oh Yuu...” but it was so quiet no one heard.

“Yuu...You understand that if I were to let Grim live, he would've-“ Crowley wasn’t even able to continue his pathetic excuse as Yuu started yelling again.

“I DON'T CARE! I DON'T CARE NO MORE ABOUT YOUR STUPID SCHOOL!” They said standing up and grabbing at there chest.

“GRIM IS GONE BECAUSE OF YOU!” Another yell came from yuu’s quivering lips.

“SO WHAT IF HE OVERBLOTED?! LOOK AT THEM!” Yuu particularly screamed at the top of there scream as they pointed to the dorm leaders.

“Riddle overbloted because of the expectations of his mother and everyone else!” Yuu started to rant, trying to make everyone see what happened to grim doesn’t justify shit.

“Leona overbloted because he was constantly compared and upstaged by his brother!” Leona’s ears fell down in shame.

“Azul was bullied as Jade & Floyd's loss of existence caused him to overbloted!” Yuu pointed at Azul.

“AND HOLY SHIT DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THIS ONE!” Yuu grabbed there own hair and pulled it as he yelled.

“Kalim never overbloted because Jamil took his place! Though I wouldn't be surprised if he did after Jamil's betrayal!” Yuu started laughing at themself as tears were falling down Crowleys mask.

Yuu bent down to get on Crowleys level. “Oh I’m not even fucking done yet! GET UP ON YOUR FUCKING FEET!” At yuu’s raised voice Crowley stood up quickly and brushed himself off.

“Vil's Overblot was valid due to conspiracy of staying beautiful while being jealous! And Idia overblotted because he was overwhelmed of his curse lineage!” When Yuu mentioned ldia he jumped backwards.

“Then Malleus overblotted and put everyone to sleep because he felt the need to save them!” Malleus face instantly turned into a frown as he was mentioned.

“Please understand! The situation was different!” Crowley tried to defend himself but they only lead to Yuu laughing at him.

“Oh good excuse!” Yuu’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING, CROWLEY! EVERYTHING! TO HELP KEEP EVERYONE IN THIS SCHOOL STABLE FOR YOU! BUT YOU COULDN'T DO THE SAME FOR ME!” The sky outside turned dark and gloomy, it’s started to pour rain and thunder could be heard.

“Yuu! Enough!” Riddle tried to defuse the situation.

“Herbivore...We get it...just chill out for a moment.” Leona was following after riddle.

“Please Yuu...Calm down...Headmaster Crowley understands your anger and-?!” Azul tried to reason but was cut off with yuu’s screaming.

“YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND MY ANGER!!!” That quickly got everyone to shut up, they all were silent not knowing what to say.

“If you did...You all wouldn't be on his side.” A bitter laugh was heard.

“I'll never forgive you,

Crowley...Never...Because of you...Grim is DEAD! DEAD! NEVER COMING BACK!” There was a dark overwhelming power that started to surround Yuu.

“Oh no...” that was all ldia could say.

“This power I'm sensing... there Overblotting?!” Malleus quickly took out his wand to help you.

“I thought he couldn't use magic...” leona yelled out loud also grabbing his wand.

“That's impossible! The collar around his neck should be draining any magic from there body-?!” Riddle tried to understand the situation.

“NEVER FORGIVE! NEVER FORGET! I'LL KILL YOU ALL!!!!” ink poured onto there body.

“NO! YUU!” Azul pleaded but it was useless.

“STOP YUU! PLEASE! THIS ISN'T YOU!” All vil could do was watch their dear friend transform.

“EVERY LAST OF YOU! JUST DIE!!!! GRIM!!”

Everything happend so fast you couldn't even blink...Yuu overblots and transforms. Grims overbloted version was there right beside Yuu. Just liked they promised, to always be by each others side.

“Oh No....What Have I Done?” Crowley said fearful.

Then...The Twisted Wonderland World Was Shrouded In Dark Blue Flames and Darkness....

[maeve-is-annoying-about-books]

Arcane Season 2 Vi

This poor fucking woman, the irony has bit into her and won't let her go.

Vi starts the entire series with a pretty explicit goal, earning the respect of Piltover. Frankly of Zaun too, both. To be a big deal, I think. And the terrible part of it all is that she has it. It's the worst thing in the world. She hates it.

Caitlyn, the now-sheriff of Piltover requests her aid specifically. She's bumped shoulders with Jayce, the rising star of the city. She's spoken to the council and told them what she thinks to their faces. She's been manhunted by Silco, the most terrifying power the lanes had ever seen. She's a Pretty Big Fucking Deal, or would be in the eyes of her past self. All it cost was what she actually wanted.

Everyone she loves keeps getting torn away from her and her heart is so big that it can break every single time. Her friends, dead. Father figure, dead. Her sister she pushed away and Jinx is who returned. Caitlyn, her (as far as we know) first love, has just shoved her away. Just like Violet did to Powder all those years ago. Both of them begging not to be left behind. Left alone. FUCK.

Vi would do anything for Caitlyn at this point and that's what makes it sting. But it's also what makes it wrong. It's the gateway to making it right again, I think. Like, look at her. Vi's lost everyone and is now clinging to Cait. "Yeah I'll use deadly semi-sentient fissure gas on people. No yeah go ahead honey I'll help you arrest anyone in our way just please. Stay."

Like, look at the circumstances she takes the badge in. It's because if she had it, Caitlyn would have never been in danger during Renni's attack. Vi could have crossed the police line and ended it before it ever began. But she didn't, and now that guilt of nearly losing the last person she has drives her to take up the mantle of enforcer.

Of course she has plenty of excuses for what she did while wearing the blues, I genuinely think her only focus is on keeping Caitlyn happy and safe. Until it comes to a head, and a child gets in the way. Only now does Vi put her foot down and say, "No." And her inaction cost her again, in a sense. "If only I had said something sooner" is a phrase I can easily imagine her thinking to herself. Before the gas and the shock and awe and becoming the thing she probably still has nightmares about.

I think that's why this breakup arc needed to happen. Like yes, it puts Vi directly into Powder's shoes to make her understand her sister again. But it's also that Vi needs to get her strength to stand up again and find what she's fighting for, because Caitlyn needs that Vi more than ever before.

[falling-star-cygnus]

Actually here's another Billy angst idea just with him being a cyborg/robot, what if he glitches out and is out of commission for days maybe even weeks and then he powers on to see everyone's shocked faces

oml, this has been sitting in my inbox for FAR too long. -> i am so sorry TT^TT

side bar, i was just introduced to the wonderful WiseBilly and BillyBelle agenda, so maybe there will be some of that in the future :D -> not in this fic tho, in case shipping isn't your style

someone legit sent in an ask a few days ago asking me to tag my works with 'fanfiction' so that they could block them all 😀 bc 'they didn't want to block a million different fandom tabs' -> BUT THAT'S LITERALLY WHY I USE A 'KEEP READING' CUT. SO THAT IT'S BITESIZED TO SCROLL PAST 😭 Master List

Something was very

very

wrong.

Currently, it was 8:24 in the morning. Nearly an hour past the time Billy normally woke up. And almost excatly the time he knocked on Nicole's door each day to tell her breakfast was ready.

Nothing had crashed yet.

Or shattered. Or banged. Or 'thudded.' Or 'thwacked.'

No one had started yelling.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

Nicole stared at the ceiling and ignored the growing worry in her gut. It was probably nothing, she conceded. He had used a lot of power yesterday, so... the android was probably just taking an easy morning. God knows he deserved it after everything that had been going on.

Maybe he had found a movie to share with Anby.

...yeah, right. The boss of the Cunning Hares' bursts into quiet giggles thinking about it. Those two couldn't share that old thing to save their lives. It's why the schedule was made.

Her alarm clock buzzes. 8:30.

He'd come knock any second now.

Annny second.

…

8:31 blips on to the alarm’s face.

8:32.

8:35.

Nicole can feel her limbs growing cold- despite the relatively comforting warmth of her bed- and it cements in her stomach like gum.

8:44.

She was being ridiculous.

8:50.

Just because the android wasn’t knocking didn’t mean anything was wrong. Billy wasn’t required to do so by any means, it was just a habit he had picked up to make sure they all ate.

8:52.

…but he did like his routines.

8:55.

Was he mad at her?

9:00.

Nicole throws herself out of bed decisively and slams open her door.

“Where’s Billy?”

He's not with Nekomata or Anby, from what the boss can tell from her survey of the room. The two smallest members of the Hares' were cuddled together on the couch. Which was frankly- adorable. In any other situation.

But she had an android to find.

"Billy hasn't come out of his room yet," Nekomata answers, looking somewhat weary of Nicole's warpath. Anby pauses next to her.

"Really? He hasn't?"

"E-eh?"

The cat thiren suddenly looks very uncomfortable as the Demara's pin her with twin stares.

"There was a rerun of a Starlight Knights special playing this morning, it's why I came to bother you," Anby continues, ignoring her former cuddle buddy's squawk of indignance as she moves to stand up.

"Wh- what? I thought you said you wanted to bond!"

"I can want two things."

"Anby!"

Nicole leaves them to their squabbling, striding towards the android's room with deliberate steps. It was far too early for this sort of worry, he better be fine in there-

His door isn't fully closed when she pushes on it. He didn't exactly have a 'room' like the other Hares' did- he didn't exactly need one- but it was sort of mutually agreed that the garage was his domain.

Billy wouldn't leave it open like this if he could help it- not when it could mean unwanted visitors got inside.

Maybe she had a valid reason to be worried...

Or maybe not.

The android is still plugged in and leaning against the wheel of their car, not a scratch on him. His eyes are slanted in as closed as they can get, and his signature red jacket is hung neatly off the ground.

He looked fine.

So-

Why wasn't he awake? Why would he miss an airing of his favorite franchise? Why couldn't the boss hear the familiar whirring and clicking he always gave off?

Something wasn't adding up.

Nicole is pressing her ear to his chest before she can even process she's moved.

The metal is cold as it bites into her cheek, and it's silent.

Anby and Nekomata peek through the doorway, for once taking due care to make their presence loud enough that Nicole can hear them approach. Probably for the best, the boss of the Cunning Hares' felt like a fraying thread about to snap.

There was a burn under her chest, nestled into her ribs like a hot coal she'd been forced into swallowing. Billy didn't move.

Calm down, she scolds herself, There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. He's not dead.

She hoped he wasn't dead.

Wordlessly- because she didn't trust herself to speak yet- Nicole begins checking his dormant form over. The other two join in with a silent nods towards each other.

Anby carefully tilts his head from side to side to examine his neck.

“Wires are fine here.”

There's no damage to his auditory processors either, or his faceplate, or any of the joints visible to them. And they resolutely refused to take his pants off. It didn't matter if he didn't have anything down there- maybe he did, they wouldn't know- that felt... too invasive.

Unless absolutely necessary, that was a bridge that would remain uncrossed.

"Oh-! There! His charging thingamajig!" Nekomata suddenly exclaims, somehow having weaseled her way behind Billy, "It's all burnt around the edges!"

"Burnt!?" Nicole all but flattens the thiren against the wheel as she takes a look for herself.

Sure enough, the silver metal around the cable was a charred black that flaked off onto her fingers. Hm.

The boss of the Cunning Hares finagles the cord out of the port, and yelps when Anby grabs the back of her shirt to fling her away. Nekomata lands next to her.

"Anby! What the hell-" the boss is cut off when she sees the white... powder? Paste? Thing that bubbles up out of the opening. It smells foul, whatever it is, and clings to her tongue in a way that makes her sick.

"That's battery acid," Anby explains, jaw tight in a way that was usually reserved for boss battles, "Given the burn marks, it's likely his battery fried itself and exploded. We shouldn't touch it barehanded."

Billy's battery had what.

"Exploded."

Oh, Nicole said that out loud.

"What do you mean exploded," she demands, getting up to her feet.

The smaller Demara throws a pair of latex gloves Nicole's way in lieu of answering. Out of all the Cunning Hares, Anby really was the only one who knew shit about batteries. Well- Billy did too, of course, but..

"It happens when they get too overrun with electricity. Considering that Billy used a lot of power yesterday, only to get accidentally tased by Phaethon right after, there's a 98.96% chance that he overloaded his battery by charging it. If we take care of it before it can corrode any of his wiring, we should be able to minimize the overall damage."

That... sort of made sense. Right. They had an objective now.

Nicole can feel her title as the boss settle over her like a second skin, clarity cutting through the haze of morning and worry like a cut from a blade. She knew what they had to do, now to execute it.

"Ok then," Nicole nods once, overcome with a false sense of confidence, "You're the expert, Anby, what do we need to do?"

For a moment, things don't seem so bleak. Everything was going to be fine, and Billy would be back to his rambunctious big-brother ways in no time.

They end up not having the means to replace the battery- or the skillset to open the android up and remove said battery- so...

"We can't take him to Grace," Nekomata insists, something like a shudder rolling it's way through her spine and tails, "She's so- so weird about him."

"Agreed." Anby nods, crossing her arms sagely, "Grace is out of the question. But we need to get this fixed somehow, and Belobog is the only group close enough that has the skillset we need."

Nicole couldn't help but agree. The last time they had interacted with the eccentric mechanic of Belobog Heavy Industries she had practically glued herself to the android's hip! It didn't matter how many times he had edged away- or downright hid behind one of the girls, she just kept coming on to him!

It didn't help that she also referred to Billy as an it at first; even if she took it in stride when the Hares' had corrected her. Swiftly and firmly corrected her. Anby style.

Billy was not an it.

"What about Phaethon," Nekomata pipes up, her tails moving in swishing waves, "they might know someone!"

"That's right!" Nicole snaps her fingers, and ruffles between the thiren's ears for her good work, "Our dear proxy is sure to have some better information."

In the spirit of fairness, she pats Anby's head too. The smaller Demara had been the one to point out the problem with the android's battery, after all.

Nicole looks to the downed member of their team.

And pats his head.

It felt... wrong, somehow, to leave him out when he was like this.

"Don't worry, Billy," the boss whispers, in some vain hope that it'll reach him, "We'll get you fixed up in no time."

.../^\...

Nicole doesn't realize how badly she'd miss this part of her routine until it was gone.

It'd been three weeks since Billy had gotten repaired.

Three weeks of waiting, three weeks devoid of Starlight Knight references, three weeks of radio silence.

By all accounts, it should be peaceful. But.. in the end, she just missed him. For all her scolding, it had never really been an issue to listen to him ramble. And his optimism always stopped anything from feeling too hopeless on a mission.

Anby had stopped doing the little braid in her hair, the same as she did when that scrapper had taken the android for parts, and even Nicole had stopped putting her own hair in it's little half-up half-down pigtails.

She'd had them even before Billy came barreling into her life, of course, but there had been numerous occasions where she simply felt too tired to want to deal with the hassle of taming her bedhead.

Two black strips of cloth sit innocuously on her nightstand.

"We have to meet up with that contractor today, remember Boss?" Billy had said one morning, as he began to brush through pink frizz- starting at the bottom and slowly worked his way up until it was all neat and shiny.

Nicole hadn't even realized what happened until her hair was already tied up with cute bunny ear bandanas and the android was clipping in her usual barrettes.

That was the moment that had won her over, she thinks privately, as she fiddles with an errant strand.

Her clock buzzes for 8:30.

Time for another quiet day...

knock, knock.

....huh?

The boss of the Cunning Hares throws herself out of bed, praying to whatever higher power that would listen that this wasn't some sort of cruel joke.

knock-

She flings the door open, with maybe too much desperation, but she can't really bring herself to care when-

"Oh- morning, Boss!"

"BILLY!"

Metal bites into her cheek as Nicole wraps her arms around his lanky build and squeezes until her arms ache. It hurts for a second and it's real, he's real, and he's warm, and he's loud. There's no stench of acid, or charcoal, just the dim whir and click of machinery under his plating.

"Boss-!?" the android startles, hands hovering uselessly around her back before settling gently on her shoulders, "did you.. have a bad dream?"

Something like that, she thinks.

And really, Nicole is more than willing to write it off that way.

bonus: *a few weeks later, after a taxing raid on their resident android* *Billy is sitting in the Remodelling Shop* Enzo, patting Billy's shoulder and wiping his hands clean: Battery's all good. Billy: uh... Boss? Is this really nec- Anby, Nicole, and Nekomata: Yes. Billy: ...okay.

[scribespirare]

If you're still open to flowerfang requests can you give us some more a/b/o with courting? Thanks so much. 🫶

baby i am ALWAYS open for flowerfang requests gimme gimme

So there's this guy.

Well, a villain actually, and he's slippery as hell and keeps wriggling his way out of Miles' grasp (seriously, there's an entire eel theme going on and quite frankly he doesn't really wanna talk about it) every time they meet. And since Miles is dealing with finals right now, he really can't spend that much time trying to chase this dude down. It's just not at the top of his priority list, ya know? Especially since he can usually stop the attempted crimes and send eel guy back to whatever rock he crawled out of. Or...swam. Whatever.

The point is, Miles gets the shock of his damn life when eel guy lands at his feet, trussed up like a present but without the bow one fine weekend afternoon.

Miles, in costume and having previously been enjoying the scenic view of the city from atop one of his many haunts, stares down at eel guy in pure shock.

"You're welcome," Miguel says from somewhere to his right, and Miles whips towards the sound.

"Huh?"

But the Alpha is stepping into a yellow portal, back turned, and Miles can only gape after him. "What the fuck?" he mutters, mostly to himself.

The man on the ground responds anyways. "Man, I have no goddamn clue. He came outta nowhere, said something about Omegas, and then clocked me."

Omegas!? If this is some dumb ass Alpha power flex then Miles is going to skin that man alive. Even if Miguel has at least a foot of height, a decade's worth of experience, and probably a hundred pounds on him. And also there's the fact that he's extremely hot. Like. Wildly fucking hot.

Whatever.

Fucking Alphas. Thinking they're hot shit just because they have chiseled jaws and biceps bigger than his head and amazing scents...

Miles spends the entire time he's taking eel guy to the police station grumbling about them.

Eel guy wisely stays quiet.

oOo

School lets out and the summer is sweltering where it gets trapped in all the concrete and gleaming metal of New York. Miles is given (mostly) free reign to do as he pleases and he does. There's nothing quite like swinging around the city to cool off.

There's just one problem.

Fucking. Miguel.

He keeps swooping in and taking down Miles' bad guys for one, even the tiny pipsqueak ones. And to make matters worse he's leaving shit in Miles' bedroom too. Money, some new Jordans, a spiderman suit that Miles will never admit looks way cooler than his current one and that he stuffed deep into his closet never to be seen again because fuck that guy.

Seriously, what the fuck is Miguel's problem? He hadn't thought Miles' being an Omega was that big a deal when he'd sicced hundreds of spider-people on him. Hadn't held back when he'd slammed Miles into the side of that train, all barred teeth and rage.

But now, all of sudden, Miles apparently can't wipe his own ass without an Alpha's help.

It's just his luck (which is to say, good) that when he decides he's done with Miguel's shit and is going to rip him a new one, Miguel drops a villain at Miles' feet and actually deigns to stop for a moment and chat.

Somehow the man laying between them is eel guy again. They both ignore him.

"What the actual fuck do you think-" Miles starts, at the exact same second Miguel says, "I wasn't sure if we should talk to your parents-".

Both of them stop, clearly confused by the other. Miles gets over his surprise first, shaking his head. "My parents? What the hell do you want with my parents?"

Miguel blinks down at him, face unreadable. "Well, the next stage of courtship usually involves speaking with the Omegas's-"

"Courtship!?" Miles' voice comes out so high and squeaky he feels like he's hit puberty all over again.

Another blink. This time Miguel's features tighten a little, and if Miles didn't know better he'd think the Alpha looked nervous.

Good thing he knows better.

"I...yes? I've been courting you since the start of summer," Miguel says. "I thought..." he trails off, brow knitting in manly angst that very much is not attractive on him, not at all.

Miles for his part just flaps his jaw in disbelief. Everything clicks together for him then: all the bad guys (fucking gift wrapped!), the shit Miguel kept leaving in his bedroom, the way he'd linger sometimes as if to catch Miles' reaction but ultimately still fucked off back to whatever universe he popped out of. Traditionally Alphas aren't meant to interact much with an Omega until they've declared their intention to the parents or guardian of said Omega. This is preceded by gift giving to see if the Omega is even amenable to being courted at all.

Here's the problem. A: that shit was common like a hundred fucking years ago. Nobody courts like that today unless they're richer than god and have been for generations. Old money are just weird like that.

B. Miles never gave any indication of being amenable.

...did he?

"Fuck you're old," is the first thing that pops out of Miles' mouth, because he'd rather talk shit than think about how he feels about Miguel trying to court him.

Miguel immediately tenses all over and takes a step back. "I'm sorry, I thought the age gap-"

"What?" Miles cuts him off, because he recognizes the look of a man about to run. "No, I meant you're old as hell for trying to court me traditionally."

The age gap is most definitely not a problem the Omega in Miles says. He ignores it.

"Oh," says Miguel, but he doesn't relax.

"Nobody does that shit anymore," Miles continues, "so I didn't recognize what was happening. On top of that, you didn't fucking say anything so how the hell was I supposed to know!?"

"I wrote you letters," Miguel argues back. Then, a little softer like now he's unsure of himself, "Written correspondence is an important part of a courtship."

"Did you leave them in my room, like the other stuff?"

"Yes?"

"Well there's your problem. You've seen my room, do the math. Bits of paper aren't gonna stand out."

Miguel runs a hand through his hair and sighs, shoulders slumping. "So you're telling me that I've been trying to make romantic overtures for over a month now, and not a single clear message has gotten through?"

Miles' heart does something weird and uncomfortable in his chest at the words romantic overtures. But he just nods. "Looks like."

Looking skyward as if for patience, Miguel mutters something under his breath and then huffs, puts his hands on his hips, and makes direct eye contact.

"Dios mio, fine. Clearly my preferred way of doing this isn't working. So let's try this instead. Miles, can I take you on a date?" The words are said so matter of factly and with such little emotion that they take a moment to process. When they do Miles immediately feels his face heat.

"Uh," he says intelligently.

Yes says both his dick and his inner Omega.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," are the words that actually come out of his mouth. Miguel looks pained though and Miles winces. "I mean...I'd love to? I think. I dunno, I'm kind of in shock right now. I have no clue what's happening."

That finally has Miguel relaxing and a ghost of smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Of course that look is just as stupidly hot on him as all the others. God, who did Miguel have to kill to get cheekbones like that?

Any and all thoughts of Alpha attractiveness scatter from Miles' brain when Miguel steps closer, right up into Miles' personal space. He smells...well, fucking amazing. Wild and sharp, like steel and ozone before a lightning strike. And he's leaning closer, tilting Miles' chin up with one finger.

"What's happening," Miguel says lowly into the space between them, "is that I'm interested in you, Miles. And I'd like the chance to show you exactly how interested."

Miles swallows hard and his knees nearly buckle under him. "Y-yeah, okay," he says, trying to ignore the heat of Miguel's body, how good it feels to be pinned in by his bulk and strength. He's failing.

"Good," Miguel replies, ruining all chances Miles had of trying to keep his cool because the Alpha leans down and kisses him.

It's not Miles' first kiss, but it is his first with someone who actually knows what they're doing. Miguel's mouth is hot and confident, nearly bruising in its intensity as he guides Miles' into parting his lips so that Miguel can sweep his tongue inside. Miles makes a surprised, pleased sound that immediately embarrasses him because it's so incredibly Omegean.

Miguel laughs against him, more felt than heard, and finally pulls away. "I've been wanting to do that for a while, cariño. Sabes tan dulce como te ves."

Miles yanks him back down into another kiss before he can say anything stupid.

"Uh, guys?" says eel guy from somewhere on the ground. "Hello?"

oOo

They don't end up talking to Miles' parents by mutual agreement. Miles isn't even sure why Miguel would want to considering Miles is still fifteen, but over the course of the conversation he starts to realize...

Miguel is a hopeless romantic. That's why he'd gone for traditional courting. Soft, gooey hearted, marshmallow fluff romantic.

Miles laughs until his sides hurt. He only stops when Miguel pins him down and kisses him until Miles can barely breathe.

It's really fucking great.

...Miles still forces Miguel to promise not to fight anymore of his bad guys though.

[in1-nutshell]

Heyyy

Recall when I sent in that ask about Ironhold's role during the '86 movie? I was wondering if I could make a request for a more in-depth look at that. Like, what happened after the decepticons returned to Cybertron? Did they try to oppose Starscream's rise to power, or did they just let him take control?

What are their reactions to Galvatron, Cyclonus, Scourge and the Sweeps?

Post-movie, what are they up to during the events of five faces of Darkness? You mentioned them joining the autobots, how does this complicated their relationship with Rumble?

Reminds me of the first time I watched the movie.

Pre Movie: "Ooh! Haven't seen this! I wonder what's it about!"

During Movie: *Ugly sobbing*

Post Movie: "... I was not the same person as I was before..."

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Ironhold during the 1986 Movie

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Familial, Angst, Character death from the movie, Cybertronain reader

G1

Ironhold wasn’t aware of all of Megatron’s plan for taking down Autobot city, and quite frankly they were too tired to care.

The Decepticon’s already managed to conquer Cybertron, did they really need to stomp out the rest of the Autobots on Earth?

Couldn’t they just live their lives separately and in peace?

Apparently not.

Ironhold was supposed to be on the same shuttle as Rumble, but they ended up in their separate shuttle to make sure any stray asteroid didn’t damage the hull.

Which would be a great plan… except that due to a faulty part, they were not able to fly out with the others.

Once their ship was ready, they were off.

They commed Rumble to know what had happened in the shuttle.

Rumble: “You shoulda been here Hold! It was a massacre!” Ironhold chuckling a bit: “Yeah, I bet it was.” Rumble: “Megatron even got Ironhide out!” Ironhold froze for a second: “What?” Rumble: “Yeah! The bot really tried stopping the boss with half his chassis gone! Ha!” Ironhold: “…Rumble what was the plan again…” Rumble: "You forgot already? Well the massacre part wasn’t really part of the plan or taking the ship. But, hey! What can you do? Plans change in the heat of the moment.” Ironhold shudders a bit: “…I’ll meet you all on Earth.” Rumble: “All right then, see ya on Earth Hold.” Ironhold: “Love you.” Rumble: "Aww c’mon! Ya had to say it over the line… the others are here.” Ironhold: “You don’t have to say it back My Spark.” Rumble: “…loveyoutoo.” Frenzy: “Ha!” Rumble: “FRENZY!”

Ironhold arrived on Earth and froze once again at the heavy damages done on Autobot city.

This shouldn’t have come to this.

But they had a job to do.

One by one any Autobots that came across their path fell unconscious, they were feeling merciful today.

They spotted their father fighting Optimus from a few feet away.

The two truly looked like they were going to end things today.

To end the war for once and for all.

They truly thought Prime was going to finish Megatron with honor… until the glint of a blaster came into view.

Before Ironhold could react, Hot Rod had tackled Megatron down trying to get the gun.

He failed and ended up being held hostage.

That was when Megatron noticed they were there.

Megatron: “Ironhold! Finish Prime now!” Ironhold looks down at the Prime. He was disarmed and badly injured. They could easily end the war with one blow. The war would finally be over… Hot Rod: “Optimus!” CLANK! Megatron and Hot Rod both had surprised looks on their faces seeing Ironhold dropping their blaster and helping the Prime up. Megatron tossed Hot rod aside in anger.  Megatron: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” Ironhold: “THIS IS NOT HOW THE WAR SHOULD END! ENOUGH WITH THE BLOODSHED MEGATRON! Aren’t you tired of this fighting? I am done—” BLAM! Ironhold stares in shock at the new hole in their chassis and the smoke coming from their father’s fusion canon. He held a grim expression as they fell on their side. They could feel Optimus’s servos on them for a few seconds. The last thing they saw was Hot Rod shocked face staring at them.

Hot Rod couldn’t believe what had just happened.

One of the most loyal Decepticons, Megatron’s spawn, had just gone against his orders and protected Optimus.

Megatron had shot his own child.

He wanted help them, but now his worries were on his leader.

Anyways he saw some Cons bringing them back into Astrotrain.

Rumble nearly screamed when he saw Ironhold with a smoking hole coming from their chassis.

Thhhis was another time he wished he were a bigger bot to carry them back to the ship instead of relying on the others

Once on the ship, Rumble placed Ironhold’s helm on his lap and gently stroked their helm.

He didn’t care for any stares.

He just needed to know if they were okay.

Ironhold wakes up a few minutes after the unanimous decision to throw Megatron out the shuttle.

Rumble told them everything what had happened.

Ironhold is quiet during the entire story. Ironhold groans as they try and stand. Rumble grabbing their servo: “Are ya nuts!? Sit back down!” Ironhold ignores him and manages to stand. Ironhold: “Starscream.” Starscream turns to them, half expecting to hear a rebuttal about his new rise to power. Ironhold vents softly: “Do you want to lead?” Starscream pauses in confusion: “Yes?” Ironhold: “Then do it.” Starscream: “What?” Rumble: “What?” Every Decepticon: “What?” Ironhold groaning a bit: “I say we give Screamer here a chance. And if he messes up I will take control. Am I clear?” No one says anything. Ironhold stand up straighter: “I said, am I clear?” There is a mumbled agreement with the others. Their knees suddenly start buckling and falls. Rumble, Frenzy, Soundwave and some other cons catch them. Ironhold groans again as they are set back down on the bench.

Once they get back to the base, they get patched up just in time for Starscream’s cornation

They were really starting to reconsider their decision to make Starscream in charge

Luckliy Starscream’s regin didn’t klast long thanks to the entrance of Galavtron

But they soon realized that Galvatron was worse than their father and Starscream combined.

Especially once he slipped about Unicron.

They were done.

Ironhold knew that the other Decepticon’s had already claimed Galvatron as their leader.

After thinking about it, they ultimately decided to leave.

The Decepticon’s had strayed fair from their morals in the beginning and there was no way they would bow for Galvatron, Cyclonus, or any of the Sweeps with Unicron pulling the strings.

That night they cried a little as they pried Rumble from their frame.

As quietly as they could, they confiscated a shuttle a flew off.

They were flying around for a while until they received a strange energy spike on the Junkions Planet.

Ironhold lands on the planet and walks out only to be met with several blasters to the face. They slowly raise their servos up. Ironhold: “I come in peace.” Daniel: “Yeah right! Like we’re gonna listen to you!” Ironhold: “I came to help you.” Springer: “Help us? From what?”  Ironhold: "From Galvatron and his cronies.” Arcee: “And how do we know you aren’t setting us up for a trap.” Ironhold opens their subspace and pulls out their Decepticons insignia before throwing it on the ground: “Because I am not going to follow his orders. The Decepticon’s reason to fight is not something I am going to fight for. I know the past we’ve fought, but believe me, I am done being a Decepticon if THIS is what it means to be.” They look at Hot Rod for support, they know they don’t deserve it, but there was a small part that hoped for a change. Hot Rod: “I believe them.” The other bots: “You do?!” Hot Rod: “They tried to help Optimus before… before that. They stood up to Megatron and ,correct me if I’m wrong, you said you didn’t want to fight anymore.” Ironhold nods. Hot Rod: “And If they came all this way to help us, I say let them. We’re going to need all the help we can get fighting Unicron.” Kup is the first to approach Ironhold holding his servo out: “Welcome to the team kid.” Ironhold smiles at the older mech and shakes his servo.

Ironhold was met with hostility on the ship, which they completely understood.

If the situation was the other way around, they would also be wary.

Once Unicron was defeated, Ironhold was ready to hear them say to scram, to leave and never come back.

They were surprised when Rodimus Prime offered them an Autobot badge and a spot on the team.

A flash of Rumble’s face flashed in their helm.

Ironhold smiled at the new Prime and accepted.

There was a party celebrating the victory and Ironhold joing the fold.

Despite the festivities and the laughter shared, they walked into their new habsuite with tears in their optics.

The weight of the loss of their father…

Their family…

Their Conjunx…

They could only hope that Rumble had some part in his spark to forgive them once he found out they defected.