#he can’t place why he behaved that way.. because it’s not necessarily how he would have reacted if it were anyone else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hypergiiant · 9 months ago

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001. NO BED OF ROSES.

Starring: Go Cairo.

Featuring: Park Ohyeon.

Summary: Cairo and Ohyeon grow up.

Word Count: 12k.

CW: For their whole time at HMT, Cairo and Ohyeon are subject to physical assault in the form of 'corporal punishment' by the company staff, even as young teenagers. Violence. Descriptions of bullying and allusions to school violence. Smoking. Drinking. Quick mention of an uncomfortable interaction between a minor (15) and an adult. Homophobia including use of slurs. There's a few moments of victim blaming within the narrative but I do think it's important to keep in mind that it's written from the pov of someone who is mostly a victim of the same things. This piece gets heavy in places, so please be aware of that going in to it. If you see something you think needs a warning, please lmk!

AGE THIRTEEN.

“No way am I debuting with him,” Ohyeon scoffs, as soon as the implication leaves Seungjae’s mouth. Cairo slumps down in his chair a little, puffing a sigh through his nose. “I don’t even like him.”

“That’s not a big concern of mine,” Seungjae dismisses, resting back in his swivel chair. Cairo and Ohyeon sit at the opposite side of his big oak table. Cairo’s feet hit the ground, even in the comfy chair he was sitting in, and Ohyeon’s don’t. That’s one win. “You’re thirteen. You work together for a couple weeks, I guarantee you’ll get over whatever differences you have.”

“But he’s a dick,” Ohyeon huffs.

Cairo has kind of known Ohyeon forever, but they’re strangers at the same time. They’d grown up on the same street, were classmates at the same elementary school, and had even gotten into the same middle school. But it’s not like they’d ever been friends, and Cairo can’t really blame Ohyeon for not wanting to be stuck in a duo with him for the next seven years.

He doesn’t feel good about it, but when Cairo had found out that Ohyeon had also been scouted by HMT Entertainment at school, he’d almost ditched the audition. He’d started to worry that he was being scammed. He’s never really looked at Ohyeon and considered him to be idol material. He’s short and scrawny, and it feels a little mean to bring it up, but he always came to school with greasy hair and an unwashed uniform.

Nobody at school really likes Ohyeon, and Cairo doesn’t necessarily have anything against him but he can understand why. He didn’t act like the other boys Cairo knew. And he can’t take a joke at all. One of Cairo’s friends from the basketball club had hidden Ohyeon’s lunchbox in the teacher’s desk drawer once, and instead of asking who took it, or looking around, he’d just sat back down at his desk and cried into his hands until break was over.

Ohyeon cries all the time. Even during the time they’ve been training together, the coaches have already gotten so sick of it that they start cursing whenever they see his lip wobble. Because he always has such a weird reaction to things, Cairo’s friends had kind of made a habit out of picking on him at school. It wasn’t ever that serious, they’d mess with his stuff, or corner him and ask him embarrassing questions. Cairo had never joined in, but he also hadn’t ever done anything to stop it. And he admits that he did laugh, a couple of times.

Ohyeon didn’t make things easy for himself, though. He’d still talk about childish cartoons, and giggle with the girls over idol groups. And when changing for PE, he’d make such an effort to hide himself that it would draw more attention to him than if he were to just change like everyone else, so they make fun of how skinny he is, and call him a baby, and stuff. If Ohyeon didn’t want to be picked on, he could try to behave a little more like the other boys. Cairo thinks that would probably fix most of his problems.

“Well, I don’t think that’s appropriate language for an idol, do you?” Seungjae asks. In the three months of after school lessons he’d been taking at HMT, Cairo had learned that Seungjae really doesn’t like the sound of young people cursing; he’d said that, if children represented the hope in the world, it was a shame to see them show a lack of innocence. Something about how that was to be Ohyeon and Cairo’s job. To bring hope to the nation by… being young? And singing and dancing?

“I have a question,” Cairo says, raising his hand nervously. It’s almost impossible to read Seungjae’s face as he looks over to him, but he gestures for Cairo to continue. “Um… what kind of people do you think will listen to us?”

Seungjae furrows his eyebrows. “Other children, one would presume.”

“Right, so… that’s who we’ll…” Cairo stumbles over his words, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he doesn’t know any of the right language to use nor any of the correct contexts to use it in. “Like you’ll advertise us as a children’s group?”

Beside him, Ohyeon snickers to himself. “Did you expect to debut with a bad boy concept?”

Cairo blinks at him. “I didn’t expect to debut at all!” He blurts out, and then hurriedly turns his attention back to Seungjae, bowing though there’s really no need to at all. “Sajang-nim, I’m really, really grateful for this opportunity, but I’ve only been training for three months; I mean not even full-time… Shouldn’t my mom be here right now?”

“I’m not asking you to sign anything yet, Cairo, I’m simply moving you up a rank in the training system. There is plenty of preparation to be done before you’ll debut, and I assure you that I am not holding you to any standards that you’re incapable of meeting. For now, you’ll train full time, and that will remain the focus.”

Cairo nods, and settles back into his chair, although almost immediately another question begins to rattle on in his brain. Just as he’s about to speak up, however, Seungjae motors on, and speaks for another five minutes about living arrangements; and how on weekdays they would stay at a dorm but on weekends would return home. Cairo gleams that he’s supposed to be thankful he’s able to see his family because it’s not a luxury afforded to older trainees, but each word only gives the matter in his head more urgency.

Hesitantly, he once more raises his left hand, right one tucked politely under his elbow.

“You’re not in school, Cairo. You don’t need to raise your hand.” Seungjae says. His face rests stoic, but there’s an irritation in his eyes that Cairo’s unsure he’s seen before. Ohyeon snickers to himself again, but Cairo ignores him this time.

“Sorry. That’s kind of what my question is about, though. Are we gonna have to drop out of school?”

“We offer private lessons as part of our training system.”

“But it’s not really an offer, though, right?” Cairo presses, knowing that once more he’s crossing a line. “I can’t choose to keep going to my school?”

“I think it would be unwise to continue attending public school as children’s entertainers.” Seungjae says. “And it certainly wouldn’t be practical to travel to and from Gwangju everyday.” He tries, again, to move on, but Cairo speaks quicker than him this time.

“It’s just that I promised my mom that I’d finish school,” he says. “It was kinda my one condition to even be allowed to come train here. It’s a really big deal to her that I get good grades, and stuff.”

Seungjae sighs, tucking his hands under his chin. “I’m sure her perspective will change once she sees that you do have a future ahead of you in this industry. Mothers forgive, Cairo. This is your career we’re talking about. Isn’t that all grades, ‘and stuff,’ are for?”

For a few seconds, Cairo tries to come up with an argument, but he knows it’s a losing battle. “Yes, sir.” He says, a little more solemnly than he means.

“Honestly, boys.” Seungjae scoffs. “I’ve had trainees cry tears of joy at this kind of news. Aren’t you happy to be debuting?”

“Yes, sir!” Ohyeon says, painting a wide smile on his face, and bowing deeply in his chair. So Cairo mimics him, and begins to just accept things.

AGE FOURTEEN.

Ohyeon is alright, actually. Cairo finds himself growing fond of him, and although Ohyeon doesn’t seem to want to admit it, he seems to eventually come around to reciprocating the good will. It’s a good thing, too, because they spend the better part of the next year of their lives locked in dance studios together, or trying to outsing one another in vocal training, or sending each other silent signals in classes on how to act, how an idol should behave.

And then there’s the English lessons.

“You should already know all of this, though.” Cairo complains, wrapping his head in his hands. They’re sitting in the living room of the dorm they share with one of their managers, trying their hardest to complete the English homework they’d been assigned for the next morning- it’s 3am, and it’s safe to say they’d forgotten about it. Ohyeon had remembered in a panicked dream and shaken Cairo awake frantically.

“Why should I?” Ohyeon demands, sounding a little bit indignant, and Cairo gives him a pointed look of judgment.

“You’re the one who’s always talking about how your grandparents live in France!”

“Yeah, where they speak French, genius.” he frowns. “You’re the one with an English name.”

“My parents just think they’re fancy. It’s weird to be called Cairo in English too. It’s just a place in Egypt.”

“I’m sure the people of Cairo wouldn’t like for it to be called ‘just’ a place. You should be proud of your name.” Ohyeon tuts, shaking his head sarcastically. “What kind of child talks bad about the name his parents gave him? Their first ever gift to their first ever son?”

Cairo snorts, tossing his pen at Ohyeon. It bounces off of his head, and he laughs too. “Well, they didn’t have to give me one that makes me sound like a faggot.”

Very quickly, Ohyeon stops laughing. He offers one last weak snort and returns his focus to his textbooks. A few seconds pass, and though he’s not entirely sure what he did wrong, there’s an apology wriggling it’s way up Cairo’s throat, but fortunately Ohyeon speaks first. “Anyway, I don’t even speak any French. I mean, I know, like, ‘bonjour,’ but that’s about it. I haven’t been to France, I’ve never even left Seoul.”

“You’ve never left Seoul?” Cairo asks, bewildered by the idea of that. Ohyeon looks up from his workbook with a hesitant expression, and Cairo worries he’s said something wrong again already. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. But you’ve never even been to, like, Busan? Been on vacation to Jeju?”

Ohyeon blinks. “No,” he says simply. “We don’t have any money.”

Cairo shuts his mouth, ducking his head as a pang of guilt resonates through his insides. It still doesn’t really make any sense to him; how much could a day trip to Busan really cost? However, he doesn’t really feel like it’s okay to keep asking questions.

“Oh. Sorry,” Cairo says.

“Don��t be,” Ohyeon sighs, flipping his workbook over and starting on the next page. Cairo is still lagging behind; he may have seen more of the world, but apparently that meant nothing when it came to picking up on English vocabulary. “It’s not like someone took it from us. We never had it.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Cairo asks, “Or did you always wanna be an idol?”

“I always wanted to make music,” Ohyeon answers, pursing his lips as he really thinks about it. “But I guess my mom does have this fantasy that I’ll dance us out of poverty. I started with guitar, so I always imagined I’d be playing in a band, or something.”

“So like, polar opposite from making pop music for kids, right?” Cairo asks, with a knowing grin. He hadn’t been majorly excited by the idea himself, but his parents had drilled it into his head by now; You still need to work even when you don’t want to. It was more important to release records under a label like HMT, who people actually tune in for, than it was for him to think those records were any good.

“Well, I guess. But we’re the right age to do stuff like that. If we do it well, it could be a good stepping stone to being real artists when we grow up. All the American pop singers start out making kids’ stuff.”

For some reason, something about the words ‘stepping stone’ rub Cairo the wrong way. With all the talks and meetings about how their life was going to change, there was a level of permanence that Cairo had felt about the two of them. “Kind of a pessimistic way of looking at it, right? What if people still wanna hear music from us when we’re, like, old and twenty-five?”

Ohyeon laughs. “Trust me, dude. We’ll last till one of our voices breaks, then we move onto whatever their real plan is.”

“Would it be so bad if the duo was the real plan, though?” Cairo asks, feeling stupid the second he does.

Ohyeon looks at him a little weirdly. “I guess it depends on how bad our songs are.”

“Anyway, my voice has already started to break,” Cairo lies. Ohyeon turns his attention back to his workbook, snorting softly with a little quirk of his neck.

“Well, fuck.” He says, flatly. “Don’t tell them that.”

AGE FIFTEEN.

“Where did you get that?” Ohyeon asks, staring at the little cylinder between Cairo’s fingers as if it was made of solid gold.

“A guy from some group called Hysterical or something gave it to me.” Cairo says, smugly. “I can’t remember his name. Timmy, or something. Big tall dude with the ears.”

Ohyeon shrugs. “What, he just gave it to you for free?”

“Yeah, I saw him messing around with his lighter so I just went up to him and asked if he had any.” Cairo grins. When he thinks about his friends from school, who he heard all sorts of stories about nowadays, he feels kind of juvenile to be getting excited about a cigarette. Still, it felt exciting, to do wrong again. He can't remember the last time he misbehaved or did something he wasn’t supposed to do. “He said he was going to give me one because I’m cute, but not to ask him again because he knows what age I am and he’d tell our managers.”

Ohyeon scrunches his face up. “He said you were cute?” Cairo nods, and Ohyeon frowns. “In like, a ‘sunbaenim’ way, or a creepy way?”

There’s an uneasy feeling in the pit of Cairo’s stomach as he thinks back and realizes that he can’t quite tell. He shakes it off with a shrug. “Who cares? I got the cigarette. You were the one who wanted to try it, remember?”

“But he’s like, an adult, right? He’s not our age?” Ohyeon presses.

“Relax, dude,” Cairo frowns, too. “I’m not going near that guy again, anyway. You can tell from his voice he’s a fag.”

Ohyeon blinks, his face falling. “Well,” he says, “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

Cairo laughs. “Either way, I’m not trying to get felt up. Anyway, do you want the fucking cigarette or not?”

Ohyeon shuffles awkwardly, and most of the fun has drained out of the situation already, but to his credit he nods and reaches out to pluck the cylinder from Cairo’s fingers. Cairo digs the lighter he’d swiped from the convenience store out of his pocket and tosses it to him.

Ohyeon takes a nervous look around the parking lot, although nobody is out here. A bubbly girl group song blasts inside; STK had completed their performance for the day, but Music Bank was still in the swing of recording, and they had to stick around until the very end to watch someone else win a trophy. Cairo’s not sure if they can be blamed for finding increasingly pathetic ways to entertain themselves; after all, so little of being an idol was as glamorous as promised and so much of it was sitting in the back of vans or twiddling his thumbs in waiting rooms. He can understand where Ohyeon’s desires are stemming from, as he watches him raise the cigarette to his lips. There was a part of Cairo that wants it too, to disobey just to disobey, to let himself get pissed off at all of the rules and regulations. But he knows that he’s not going to accept when Ohyeon tries to pass it to him. Enabling another person is release enough.

Ohyeon inhales way too deep for his first try. It gets stuck in his throat and forces its way back out in a spectacular round of coughing. He doubles over, one hand clutching at his side, and the other waving the offending cigarette in his face.

“You think I’m trying it after that?” Cairo jumps at the excuse, taking a couple of steps backwards. Ohyeon, beginning to compose himself, frowns deeply at him as he thrusts his hand further in his face.

“No way, I tried! Don’t be a pussy.”

“C’mon, Ohyeon, just put it out-”

Almost like a scene from a television programme, the thin metal doors leading into the broadcasting station push open with a clatter, leaving Cairo and Ohyeon frozen mid-argument, heads craning around slowly to find their manager in the doorway, a look of fury in his eyes as he registers what he’s looking at.

Cairo gulps, and takes another step away from Ohyeon.

“Are you fucking stupid? Out in the open, where anybody could see you! Are you getting desperate? You wanted to cause a scandal? You wanted to make a fool out of everyone who’s worked hard to get you to places like this in the first place?”

In the corner of the dressing room, Cairo hangs his head, though he’s not the one getting in trouble.

“Nobody saw me, though.” Ohyeon counters from next to him, keeping his neck stiff. Cairo isn’t sure what his problem is, but it doesn’t shock him when the sound of their manager’s palm strikes Ohyeon’s cheek.

“Keep your eyes down.” He spits. “You know for sure that nobody saw? Huh? You don’t know by now that people will hide and wait for you to screw up?”

“I don’t get why I'm the only one being scolded.” Ohyeon says, peering up at the manager through his fringed hair even as he drops his head.

“Cairo refused, I heard it myself.”

“He’s the one who got the cigarette in the first place! He got it from Hysterical Tim, or whatever the fuck his-“

“What did you just say?” The manager interrupts. Cairo swallows, staring down at the clunky, ridiculously expensive sneakers he’s about to give back and never see again, and waits for the sound of another slap. It comes sharper and meaner than he expected, and Ohyeon yelps out in pain. “Have you gone insane? You’re smoking, you’re talking nonsense, you’re cursing - Do you think you’re successful, or something?” Another slap. “Have you forgotten every one of your teammate’s fans is desperate for him to go solo and get away from you?” Another. “Have you forgotten that we had to deal with a petition with hundreds of thousands of signatures asking us to drop you from this label?” The next slap is harder still. He must have got him right on the cheekbone, or something. Even Cairo’s ear’s ring.

Cairo closes his eyes. It’s not nice to hear, but he can’t help but wonder what Ohyeon thinks he’s doing. They’d both known that if they were seen smoking, they’d get in trouble. They’d both decided to do it anyway. And as much as it’s true that HMT shouldn’t hit them, they both very well know that they will. It’s an injustice when it’s uncalled for, but Ohyeon is purposefully talking back. Cairo wants to tell Ohyeon to shut up, to just hang his head and take the row so it can be over, but in all honesty, he’s scared to even move.

It won’t really occur to him until he’s much older, that of the entire team of adults present in the room with them, Cairo is certainly not the only person here who can help. Obviously, none of them do.

Cairo hears Ohyeon let out a sob, and shuts his eyes even tighter.

“There’s the Park Ohyeon we’re used to,” The manager says condescendingly. “Don’t ever speak like that to a member of staff again. If you want to act like a diva, then next time you get on stage, make a couple people like you.”

A few seconds tick by at the rate of hours, then Ohyeon mutters, “Yes, sir.”

“Get changed and give your clothes back to Jangmi-ssi.” The manager says, in a firm tone of voice that still carries the implication that he’s letting them get away with it, or something. They bow gingerly, and as they shuffle behind the screens to change, he retires to the sofa and loudly complains about Ohyeon’s attitude as if Ohyeon isn’t four feet away.

Ohyeon finishes changing first, and as he disappears back beyond the plastic screen, Cairo hears the bells and whistles of his stage costume clatter down on the table Jangmi, their stylist, had gotten set up at.

“Where are you going?” Comes the manager’s gruff voice. “We’re heading back as soon as Cairo’s done-“

“I need to use the bathroom.” Ohyeon interrupts, informally, the door slamming shut before the manager can react.

“That fucking kid…”

Cairo zips up his hoodie, scooping his stage clothes up from their pile on the floor and waddling out from behind the screen, the linoleum floor uncomfortably cold in only his socks. As he passes the manager, a foot kicks out in front of him, stopping him from going further.

“Did you really give him the cigarette?” The manager asks.

Cairo worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He lies and shakes his head no. He knows he’s a coward. He feels about ten centimeters tall. But he really doesn’t want to get hit.

“That fucking little rat. Don’t let him drag you down with him.”

“Yes, sir,” Cairo says, thinking he’d deserve it if he were struck down by God right now.

The manager’s foot is retracted, and Cairo goes to place his clothes among Ohyeon’s.

“Thank you for your hard work today, noona.” He says as Jangmi begins to fold his clothes up. She looks up at him and gives him a cheerful smile, eyes crinkling. “We looked really cool.”

“Thank you, Cairo.” She says, reaching over her station to give his shoulder a little shove. “You guys did great today.”

He bows politely, lingering around as she tucks his sneakers back into their box, re-wrapping them as if they’d never been worn at all. Part of him wants to go find Ohyeon, but a bigger part can’t bring himself to face him at all. Yet, sitting and waiting for him in this atmosphere was no more pleasant.

“Would you like some help putting everything away?” He asks Jangmi, and she gives him another warm grim.

“That’s okay, Cairo. You’re finished work for the day.”

“Cairo.” The manager snaps, out of nowhere. “Stop flirting and sit down somewhere. You’re pissing me off, hovering around like that.”

Cairo feels his face flush red. “I wasn’t-“

“He wasn’t flirting,” Jangmi tuts, playfully. “He’s just a gentleman.” She reaches out to pinch Cairo’s cheek between her knuckles, and he flinches away with a start. She frowns, apologetically, but doesn’t say anything more.

The door slides open again, and Cairo thinks he’s been rescued from the embarrassment until he turns around and it’s not Ohyeon standing in the frame. Instead, a stressed out intern with a phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder thrusts two trays of takeout coffee into his arms, setting back off down the corridor in a flurry of hand motions and half-sentences Cairo doesn’t understand.

Before he can even make sense of what just happened, the staff flock around him like hungry seagulls, plucking each plastic cup from it’s cardboard until only one remains.

It’s not for Cairo. The manager just expects Cairo to bring it to him.

“Is it hot?” He asks. Cairo wraps his hand around the cup and nods his head yes. “Sugar?” The manager’s eyebrows raise. There’s a sachet of sugar on top of the cup. Cairo lifts it up and shows it to him. “I take my coffee with sugar.” The manager reiterates.

Cairo smiles tightly. “Yes, sir.” He says, placing the coffee down on Jangmi’s table and popping the lid off it. He wonders, briefly, if Timmy from Hysterical has to prepare his manager’s coffee.

“So were you just being a ‘gentleman’ when you were chatting up Bouquet this morning?” The manager asks. Cairo winces.

“One of those girls was in my class at school.” He says. “I just wanted to tell her congratulations on her debut. Her song is really good.”

“Right. If she was you guys’ classmate, didn’t the other one want to say hello to her?”

“Ohyeon and I didn’t get along with the same people in school.”

“That’s no surprise, is it?” The manager scoffs. Cairo bites his tongue. “Look, don’t you start getting involved with girls, okay? My job is hard enough as it is thanks to Park Ohyeon.”

“Yes, sir.” Cairo says, ripping the sachet open and pouring the sugar in. He leaves the lid behind as he picks up the cup, trying his best to force his hand not to shake.

“How that kid got cast in the first place is a mystery. How’d they expect him to behave? No dad and his mom is a junkie. It’s just asking for trouble.”

Cairo keeps his head down, and just walks forward.

“If you’re gonna work with kids, you have to account for the fact they’ll act like kids sometimes.” Jangmi pipes up. “I think you took it too far, today. He smoked a cigarette cause he’s fifteen and the only thing you guys ever do is give him restrictions.”

“Last I checked, I signed up to work in artist management, not childcare.” The manager says. “That kid looks at me with such hate in his eyes. It felt good to smack him.”

When Cairo’s at his last footstep towards the couch, he kicks his left foot out and drives his big toe into it’s leg. “Ouch!” He yells out, a little too stiff to be anything other than performance, and bends forward on impact, tipping the coffee cup upside down and pouring it’s boiling contents straight into his manager’s lap.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to do it, just that he and Ohyeon shouldn’t be treated the way they are, and it made him mad. When the manager springs out of seat with a howl, red faced and furious, Cairo springs straight away into a flurry of bows and apologies, working himself up to tears as the gravity sets in on what he’d just done. As he begs for forgiveness, Jangmi backs him up; claims she saw the whole thing and it was indisputably an accident.

But Cairo still goes home with a black eye, and when he says goodnight to Ohyeon he gets no response. And even though nobody knows about the cellphone he keeps hidden under his mattress, he tosses the little piece of paper in his pocket in the wastebin without saving the girl from Bouquet’s number.

STK lasts another week.

AGE SEVENTEEN.

“No, honestly, it’s fine.” Cairo says into his phone. “I’ll eat here.”

There’s a swollen silence in the car; he’s not sure if the others can hear his dad’s response through it. Nobody’s really said anything at all.

“I said I'm fine.” He says, a little too curtly. From the driver’s seat, he feels Kyung cutting eyes at him. He draws his shoulders in slightly, making himself smaller, and looks out the window. “I'm just going to stay up studying with Ohyeon. His mom will drive us to the exam tomorrow. — Yeah. — Okay. — Mhm. — Yes, dad, I'll text you after. It’ll be fine, I'm actually feeling pretty confident. — I'm not just saying that. — I mean... whatever. — Yeah. — Bye. — You too.”

He hangs up his phone and drops it into his lap. It's dark enough outside that the car window may as well be a mirror, and he sees it when Kyung, one of the older trainees and the only friend Cairo had who owned a car, opens his mouth to say something. It looks like it’s going to be a question, so Cairo pulls his hood up and settles his head against the window, eyes fluttering shut. Kyung must take the hint, because the car inflates once more with silence.

“Thanks for coming to get us.” Ohyeon says, some minutes after. Cairo keeps his eyes closed. Kyung doesn’t respond straight away; as if he’s formulating the words first.

“It's okay.” He says. This time, it doesn’t sound like a question is coming. He must be curious, though - neither of them had offered any explanation for the current state they’re in; and Ohyeon’s call had been hasty. Panicked. Cairo’s eyes creak open. His finger traces over the scrape on his knee; through a hole busted out of his school slacks.

Neither of them really want to talk about it. Through the rearview mirror, Cairo can see Ohyeon in the seat behind him. A bruise is already blossoming underneath his eye. Ohyeon had grown into a face that anything could look pretty on. Cairo had painted bruises onto Ohyeon’s face before; makeup for a school play. He'd joked about how it made him look rugged and sexy. Not when it’s a real bruise. Ohyeon is a nice kid, and not for the first time, Cairo wonders what he’s gotten him into. He looks away quickly.

Kyung pulls up outside of Ohyeon’s apartment building. For a minute, nobody moves, but as Cairo goes to unbuckle his seatbelt, Kyung clears his throat uncomfortably.

“I-” Cairo starts, though Kyung cuts him off with a shake of his head.

“I can pretend to be a parent on the phone. Vouch for you guys.” He says. “If you want to call in sick tomorrow. I'll pretend I gave you both food poisoning.”

“It's the exam.” Ohyeon cuts in, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding into the middle seat, stationed between them. He runs a hand through his hair, slumping back against the fabric seats of Kyung’s hand-me-down car. He worries his bottom lip for a second. Cairo looks at him through the mirror, sees him mentally weigh up his options. “If we don’t show up, that’s that. No university.”

“Thanks anyway.” Cairo says shortly, unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling the car door open. Ohyeon hangs back even as Cairo slams the door shut. He knows he’s being rude. Usually he’d try not to. He walks the length of the front garden outside Ohyeon’s apartment complex; and turns and rests against the doorframe. Kyung and Ohyeon discuss something in the car with serious expressions on their faces, and Cairo reaches into the school blazer he’s wearing over his hoodie and pulls out a half empty carton of cigarettes and a lighter.

By the time Ohyeon gets out of the car, Cairo’s smoked half of a cigarette. It’s plucked from his lips when Ohyeon reaches him, stubbed prematurely out beneath the boy’s shoe. “Hypocrite.” He mutters quietly, unlocking the door and pushing in.

“Your friend is gonna pick us up in the morning.” Ohyeon says as they finish the silent hike up to his floor. As soon as they enter his family’s apartment, he shrugs off his blazer, making his way to the small laundry room. Cairo follows. “My mom is... you know. She’s gone again.”

Cairo just makes a noise. It’s not that he doesn’t know what to say; it’s that he knows to say nothing. Ohyeon doesn’t like to talk about it. “That's nice of him.” he says, instead. Ohyeon hums.

“Yeah. Maybe you could thank him for it this time.” Ohyeon says, but there’s no real bite to it. Cairo just shrugs, looking back down at his fingernails. Ohyeon begins to pull off his shirt. Blood had dropped down from his burst lip, dotted it in red that’s already starting to dry a little brownish. “Give me your clothes.” He says as he tosses it, alongside his blazer, into the washing machine. He stands up to strip from his slacks, and Cairo empties his pockets before stripping down to his underwear too.

Usually, it was him doing all the talking, and Ohyeon was the quiet one. but this is just how they deal with things. Cairo shuts off and Ohyeon grasps for control.

Ohyeon sighs as he notices the hole in Cairo's pants. he sets them to one side, and Cairo feels a little stupid hanging around in his underwear, so he takes his phone from his pile of things, tucks it into his waistband, and goes to Ohyeon’s room to wait. He detours by the kitchen first, though, and snatches a bag of frozen french fries from the freezer on his way.

He stands in front of the slim, full length mirror on Ohyeon’s wall, and he’s only trying to look at the scrape on his knee, but he notices bruises developing all up his side. He hadn’t expected them to be there. They don’t hurt until he touches them, and then he can’t forget they’re there. He rifles through Ohyeon’s top drawer and pulls out a pair of fluffy, Super Mario print pyjama bottoms. At the sight of them, for the first time tonight, Cairo smiles a little, so he puts them on. They sit high above his ankles, but there’s nothing to be done about that.

Ohyeon enters the bedroom with Cairo’s pants over his arm. Cairo throws the bag of french fries to him. He isn’t great at aiming at the best of times, and he misses his shot. They land somewhere behind Ohyeon. It would have probably been funny if Cairo was in a better mood. “Your face is gonna swell up.” He says as Ohyeon bends down to pick it up.

Ohyeon holds the bag to his cheek silently, dropping the trousers onto the floor as he goes to rifle through his drawers, one-handedly searching for something. Cairo sits on the bed and takes his phone from his boxers. Kyung has texted him, ‘I’m always here.’ It promises. Cairo will reply with a message of gratitude when, no doubt, he rereads it later and feels gratitude. Right now, he simply reads it. One of his classmates has also sent him a message, telling him to kick ass tomorrow with a fist emoji and a thousand thumbs up. awful timing, nice sentiment. Cairo sends him a thumbs up in return.

“Hold this up for me.” Ohyeon says, and Cairo looks up from his phone to see the blurry list of ingredients in french fries. He takes the bag and Ohyeon, now dressed in a matching pyjama set with a button-up shirt and everything, turns around only to sit down between his legs. Cairo leans his chin on Ohyeon's shoulder- the side of his face that isn’t hurt. Ohyeon must have been looking for a sewing kit; because he’s already turned Cairo’s pants inside out, attempting to sew closed the tear. Gingerly, Cairo holds the fries up to Ohyeon’s face. Impatiently, Ohyeon leans his head into it, as if to assure Cairo it doesn’t hurt.

And they sit there. Ohyeon sews, occasionally muttering under his breath or jabbing himself in the fingertip, and Cairo holds the frozen fries until his hand goes completely numb. And neither of them say a word to each other until Ohyeon breaks the thread with his teeth.

He turns the pants back the right way around; and Cairo feels him physically deflate at the very obvious seam he’s stitched into the knee of the slacks. Cairo doesn’t know what Ohyeon expected, but even he’s not tactless enough to ask. “Shit.” Ohyeon says.

And it’s with that he crumbles, tossing the pants onto the floor and dissolving into a mess of tears. “I don't know how to do this.” He sobs, and he’s talking about sewing, but also about everything else in the world. Cairo puts the fries down and gently moves to sit beside him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. He rubs his hand up and down Ohyeon’s back, fingers gently scratching the top of his nape. And he feels himself choke up, but he doesn’t let himself cry; because he doesn't do that and he’d already let Ohyeon take control and try to be strong and now it was his turn.

“But you did it.” Cairo says, in a hushed tone. “You fixed it.”

“Not properly.” Ohyeon hiccups.

And Cairo says, “It’ll do for now.”

AGE EIGHTEEN.

Cairo’s muscles are on fire; jolts of pain shooting up his legs each time his battered sneakers stomp down onto the wooden floor. Which is disproportionately often, because he’s running through the same outro to SHINee’s Sherlock for what has to be the fortieth time in the past hour.

“Stop,” The choreographer barks. The gaggle of boys gathered in the dance studio collectively groan. Cairo can’t join them in that, for a few different reasons, and so he keeps his expression stony as he stares past his instructor, into his own reflection in the mirror. It feels like he’s straining his body just to stay upright. Sweat plasters his hair to his forehead, his chest rising and falling quick and irregular. For a second, as he notices that there’s no pattern to the breaths he’s taking, he begins to panic, wondering if he’s about to pass out. He realizes that he can feel his heartbeat in his ears and he can’t remember if that’s a sign of a heart attack or a stroke or neither, and then a disembodied voice yells out ‘Again!’ again, so his body just starts to move.

He doesn’t look back to Ohyeon, though he knows he’s the one messing up. He doesn’t look at any of the other boys, either, though he knows they probably hate him right now. They’d been a well-oiled machine. Ohyeon may be the spanner, but Cairo had thrown it. He keeps his eyes on his own reflection, and looks at his angles, the placement of his feet, the distance between where he is now and where he needs to be in three seconds. All mathematics and nothing emotional or poetic.

“Stop!” Is once more called before the end of the section. The music cuts out abruptly. “Everyone take a break. Ohyeon, stay there.”

A mixture of dread and guilt settles in Cairo’s stomach, and he wishes he could say it’s unfamiliar. This was far from the first time Ohyeon had been singled out since he started training, and Cairo knows what’s coming.

As everyone collapses along the benches of the room, Cairo lingers, turning to the instructor with an apprehensive smile. “Sir, I can help Ohyeon, I think I know what the problem is-”

“Go sit down.” The instructor dismisses, barely throwing him a glance.

“But I think I can help, so-” As he’s protesting, the instructor lifts his hand, and before he realizes what he’s doing, Cairo flinches. The hand finishes its journey, fixing the flicked up edge of the collar of the instructor’s polo-shirt. He fixes Cairo with a firm look, and he knows to shut up, bowing his head and pretending like his knees don’t feel as if they’re being pulled apart as he bends to sit down on the bench.

The instructor takes a few paces forward, stopping in front of a nervous looking Ohyeon. His eyes dart around the room and eventually settle on Cairo, who wants to look away but can’t. He just hold’s Ohyeon’s stare, trying not to scare him even more by looking nervous.

“One… two…” The instructor begins to count for Ohyeon, but Ohyeon doesn’t pick up the hint. Instead, he just stands like a deer in the headlights, staring dumbly at the instructor with his lips parted.

“What?” He asks, panicked, as the instructor passes four and a look of irritation grows on his face. “I don’t know what you-”

“Hey, Kim Ohyeon, are you slow or something?” The instructor asks. Ohyeon just blinks up at him, too put on the spot to use rational thought and figure out what he was being told to do. “You’re at dance practice. I want you to fucking dance. One. Two…”

This time, Ohyeon begins to sloppily cycle through the choreography. His limbs tremble with nerves and he can’t pick a spot to train his eyes on, so his balance is thrown. It doesn’t take a full count for him to mess up, misplacing his foot. It lands clumsy and twists his ankle in a direction it shouldn’t go, and he yelps in pain.

Nobody asks if Ohyeon is okay, nor do they show any emotion at all. Cairo, along with the rest of the boys, just look on. It’s not like Ohyeon is given a moment to dwell on his ankle anyway. With a sick crack, the instructor’s palm strikes across Ohyeon’s cheek. It lands with such force that it topples him over, overtired and weak to begin with, and he crumples to the floor.

“Get up.” The instructor spits. Ohyeon stares down at the wooden floor for a few seconds, breathing deeply through his nose. He stands, staring back at the instructor with a rageful look on his boyish face, jaw jutting out. It’s ill-fitting on him, he’s as intimidating as a vengeful toddler, but it seems to piss the instructor off all the same. The count starts again, and this time Ohyeon makes it through one count, even though each time he plants a foot down Cairo can see him grimace and hear him wince. It’s a pathetic display, but he’s doing it.

The instructor starts back from one, and Ohyeon is somehow taken off guard by that, a moment’s hesitation pulls him out of time and he starts to lag behind. The instructor lets him hit one move late, but when the next goes the same way, his fist drives out and strikes Ohyeon dead in the stomach.

Beside Cairo, one of the other newer boys takes in a shaky breath of surprise. Cairo doesn’t. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.

Ohyeon doubles over, clutching at his abdomen and groaning in pain.

“Straighten up.” The instructor barks.

“I can’t.” Ohyeon wheezes out, choking on his words. He’s winded. Cairo suddenly feels something catch in his throat, as if someone had reached down and pulled him from the thick, viscous sludge of his own blankness. The guilt crashes all at once, because he did this. He brought him here. Ohyeon has yet to look up from the floor, and the edges of his words are ragged and pushed out. “Please, I can’t.”

The instructor rolls his neck, looking towards Cairo pointedly. “You, you think you know how to help. Why don’t you tell us what’s wrong with him?”

Cairo splutters, shaking his hands no, but every pair of eyes in the room turn to look at him, and the face the instructor is making tells him that if he doesn’t speak now, he’ll be in for the exact same fate. “Uh.” He sighs a heavy sigh, one of defeat, and says, “Well, I think… um, I think that maybe he’s struggling to keep rhythm. Because there was a similar issue in-”

“See that, Ohyeon? Your friend says you have no sense of rhythm. Straighten up and do it again.”

Cairo winces at the way his words are twisted. He’d tried his best to word it gently, but he should have known what trap he was being led into. Ohyeon’s head snaps around and he glares at Cairo. There’s a wealth of emotion in there that Cairo doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fully understand. Cairo wants to say sorry, he wants to stick up for Ohyeon, to push himself off of the bench and sock the dance instructor clean in the face. But even if his legs didn’t feel like they were made of lead, he wouldn’t be able to. He’s not even fully sure why. Maybe he just doesn’t have the balls to. He should have kept his mouth shut and taken the beating.

With a jagged wince of pain, Ohyeon stands as straight as he can manage, his bottom lip trembling as he tries to keep his composure. That same petulant look remains in his eyes, puffy, red and pathetic but not betraying his anger for a second. All of the color in his face has drained away. He looks dead on his feet.

“One…” The instructor starts.

Ohyeon doesn’t even make it to two. He has to move his body quickly, and when he does, he immediately lurches forward, hunching over and emptying his stomach out onto the shiny laminate flooring.

The smell hits Cairo’s nose straight away, churning his own stomach. He wants to look away but he can’t bring himself even to move his eyes. One of the other boys; Chiwon, he’d been here the longest out of everyone. He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a wretch of his own.

“Fuck, Ohyeon,” he groans. “It stunk enough in here already.”

The instructor just stares on, face unreadable. For a second, Cairo begins to fear that he’s going to do something truly terrible, but he just sighs, looking back to Cairo.

“Take him back to the dorm.” He says, exasperated. The fact that he’d see this as an annoyance is as surprising as his complete lack of concern.

Ohyeon had squatted down, burying his face in his hands. Cairo approaches him slowly, doing his best not to react as the gets closer to the foul smell, leaning down and rubbing a hand along Ohyeon’s back.

“Can you stand?” He asks, quietly, only for Ohyeon to hear. Ohyeon nods. He glances at Cairo, and Cairo catches sight of his bottom lip trembling. “Don’t cry,” he all but whispers, rubbing a circle onto Ohyeon’s back. “Hold it in, trust me.”

Ohyeon pushes himself onto his knees, huffing quietly as Cairo scrambled to try and help him up in the process.

“I’m fine,” He mutters, voice warping, as he gets himself to his feet, shoving Cairo off of him. He pushes past him, wobbling out of the practice room with a painful hunch and little dignity.

As soon as the heavy door slams shut, Chiwon breaks out into a snicker. “Your boyfriend really can’t dance for shit, Cairo.”

Cairo does his best to keep his expression level and not smash Chiwon’s face in. He ignores him, following Ohyeon out into the hall.

He hears a slam down the corridor, and it’s obvious that Ohyeon has fled to the bathroom. On his way after him, Cairo stops in front of one of the forbidden vending machines, right outside the bathroom door. He’s not allowed to eat nor drink anything they carry, but the trainers aren’t really allowed to hit them, either, and so he buys a can of Coca-Cola. As it thunks loudly to the bottom of the machine, he hears a muffled scoff over the sound of running water, and laughs quietly to himself even though nothing is very funny at all.

He finds Ohyeon in the bathroom, swirling water around his mouth and spitting it back out with tears streaming down his cheeks. It’s charitable to call it a room; it’s more like a closet with a toilet and a sink in it, and a lock on the door that jams half of the times you use it and leaves you trapped and banging on the door for help.

Ohyeon turns to look at him, and frowns. “You stopped to get a drink?” He asks, scathingly, despite having declined help in the first place.

“It’s for you, dumbass.” Cairo says, stepping properly into the room.

Ohyeon scrunches his face up and turns back to the mirror. “Yeah, I’m really not thirsty.”

Cairo snorts, taking Ohyeon by the shoulder and twisting him around to face him. As delicately as he can manage, he wipes his tears away with the sleeve of his ratty old hoodie and holds the cold Coke can up to Ohyeon’s reddening cheek. “Dumbass.” He reiterates.

“Why did you suggest I replace Kyung-nim?” Ohyeon asks. “I wasn’t even that good at dancing as a kid.”

Cairo doesn’t have to think about it. “We needed a really good singer.”

Ohyeon rolls his eyes. “You have Lee Bohyung.”

Cairo laughs. “Yeah, but even he can’t make up for Chiwon and me alone.”

Ohyeon meets Cairo’s eyes as he laughs. A few beats pass before he talks again.

“Isn’t it kinda funny how wherever I follow you, I get beaten up?” Ohyeon says, offering a smile up to Cairo that doesn’t meet his eyes. His voice is small, so quiet that it doesn’t even echo off the bathroom walls.

“You keep on following, though.” Cairo says, softly rolling the Coke can against Ohyeon’s cheek, just by a few centimeters, to where it somehow felt colder on his fingertips. It’s so cold that it’s starting to hurt his hand, but he doesn’t move an inch. He’s not sure why, but he's trying to keep his voice low too, although it rumbles uncomfortably in his throat and the bass still reverbs against the cold, empty walls. He’s never known how to be gentle like Ohyeon. “You in love with me, or something?”

The words are clumsy. Run through no filter and only said in good fun. For some reason, though, there’s a weird heaviness to them. Ohyeon looks up at him for a few seconds, through his big eyes, and Cairo suddenly feels aware of him in a way that he never had. Aware of how close they were standing to each other, of how isolated they are, how easy it would be right now; for them to do something that nobody would ever find out about.

Ohyeon reaches up, and plucks the Coke can out of Cairo’s hand. He turns back around, holding the chilled metal back up to his blooming bruise, and answers Cairo through the mirror.

“I just get homesick without you.”

AGE NINETEEN.

“Yo, Cairo,” Ohyeon says, knocking his shoulder against Cairo’s. He stumbles to the side as he walks. He’s been swaying to and fro the whole way- Cairo had hoped that the crisp air of nighttime would sober him up a little, but that seems to be a losing battle. “Y’know what’s funny?”

Cairo doesn’t ask. Ohyeon’s footsteps are sloppy and a part of him wants to reach out to steady him, but he’s decided to let Ohyeon sleep in the bed he’s made. Experience has proven that when he falls, he’s going to take Cairo down with him.

“C’mon,” He huffs. Cairo turns to look at him. His cheeks are rosy from the cold. He’d refused to take a jacket and his loose fitting t-shirt offers no insulation. It’d trigger some kind of sympathy if Cairo didn’t feel so smug about the warmth of his favorite parka, which Ohyeon had spent about five minutes chiding for being boring and unfashionable. “Don’t ignore me.”

“It’d better actually be funny, then.” Cairo says.

“It’s not, like, actually funny. But, like, it’s a weird… thing.” Ohyeon talks with his hands a lot now. He’d started it kind of recently, or maybe Cairo had only just taken notice of it. It’s annoying.

“Fine, what?” Cairo says. He’s not being cold on purpose, maybe he wouldn’t have minded being called in the middle of the night to find a drunk and lost Ohyeon if he’d at least been met with an apology, but Ohyeon was yet to show any remorse at all.

“I just always thought that I would be like… I dunno. The one who did well at this.”

Cairo stops walking, his eyebrow quirking upwards. It takes a second for Ohyeon to notice - he takes another wobbly step before he twists around, a confused look on his face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cairo asks, feeling a spike of indignation. Something pathetic lurks in the bottom of his stomach.

Ohyeon doesn’t seem to pick up on any offense, and shrugs his shoulders. “Y’know. Performing, and stuff. I guess before STK, I just assumed I’d be better at it than you. Does that make me a dick?”

Cairo reaches into the deep pocket of his parka and pulls out his carton of cigarettes. Ohyeon rolls his eyes and hugs himself, but Cairo lets him suffer in the cold as he lights up his cigarette. He takes a draw before he moves forward again, passing Ohyeon, though he soon stumbles into step.

“Yeah, kinda.” Cairo says. It sounds way more defensive than he thinks he meant it to, and he feels embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck. It’s just a stupid thing to ask, really.

“I mean…” Ohyeon trails off. “Look, I’m not saying I don’t think you’re good. You’re way better than me. It’s just that in school… no offense, but you weren’t a very good student. And I was. So I guess I just...”

“I’m still waiting for the punchline, Ohyeon.”

“Right,” Ohyeon nods in recollection, bashfully scratching at the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry, I guess it’s not very funny after all.”

“So that’s why you’re out getting wasted on a Thursday night? Cause you’re not top of the class anymore?”

“It’s just hard. Having it all dangle on a thread like this.” Ohyeon sighs.

“Yeah, it fucking sucks.” Cairo concurs bluntly, shrugging his shoulders. “But you just have to get on with it. We’re putting hard work in now cause we’ll be rich and famous later.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ohyeon says, a little curtly. He wanders out a bit too far into the road for Cairo’s liking, and Cairo breaks resolve to catch the sleeve of Ohyeon’s t-shirt between his fingers and pull him back up onto the pavement. He continues talking as if nothing had happened. “All of our coaches said training was hard, but it’d be worth it when we debuted. Now that we’ve debuted, it’s like, the rookie years are always tough, but we’ll reap the benefits later if we work hard enough. So later, when it’s time to reap them, is that when it’s gonna be fun? Will it ever be fun? Will we even last that long?”

“If you’re not having fun, maybe it’s just not for you.”

Ohyeon’s head lolls up to look at him, fixing him with a scowl. “You are so brainwashed, dude.” He says.

“I’m not,” Cairo says, pushing out a laugh to disguise the twang of offense in his tone. “I’m not being a dick, it’s just… I think you’re fatigued and burnt out, and that’s kinda normal, but if you really do hate doing all of this dancing and exercising then… I mean, that’s the job, dude.”

“But you have to realize that they’re taking things too far.” Ohyeon says, a mounting frustration in his voice that makes Cairo belatedly realize that an honest response wasn’t really the move here. “The conditions that we’re working in are not humane- like, not legal, at all-”

“Yeah. Ohyeon.” Cairo cuts in. “That’s the job. It’s not like the fact idols are overworked is the industry’s best kept secret. You were aware. Even at thirteen, dude, you knew what was coming. And I’m not telling you to suck it up or anything, I’m just telling you that you didn’t have to take the job in the first place. You passed the university entrance exam. I didn’t, most of the others aren’t even qualified to sit it. You have options that most of us don’t. Did you even actually think about whether or not this is something you want to do for the next seven years, or are you just here as a favor to me?”

Ohyeon quirks an eyebrow, laughs quietly to himself, and doesn’t answer the question. Instead, he stomps into a wobbly salute, chilly fingers trembling before his brow.

“I’ll work hard, leader-nim!”

Cairo scoffs, and just keeps walking.

AGE TWENTY.

Cairo knows that Ohyeon is crying. That’s why he’s refusing to turn around.

“It’s not that bad,” he says. His voice is too gruff; he doesn’t sound confident at all. Ohyeon sniffs, and mutters out a small and empty noise of affirmation, agreeing without pretending to agree in the slightest. It’s a pitiful interaction and neither of them feel any better for it. Cairo drops a sloppily folded t-shirt into his suitcase and gets back to packing up his dorm room. “I mean at least it’s not a shock. The writing was on the wall.”

“I just really thought it would be worth it this time.” Ohyeon says, defeated. Cairo clears his throat roughly, pulling a sweater from it’s hanger and balling it up.

“You can’t be like this in front of the others,” Cairo says, still looking anywhere but Ohyeon. “It’ll make things ten times worse. At least we’re still signed.”

Ohyeon’s sniffling halts for a second. “You’re seriously staying?”

Cairo looks over his shoulder at him, finally. His eyes are puffy and swollen, and he’s wearing the grief plainly on his face as if someone had died. “You’re seriously not?” Cairo asks, equally incredulous. “What, we’re gonna quit in solidarity?”

“Well, isn’t that the human thing to do? HMT is a fucking circus, they beat us black and blue and then tossed us to the curb because they couldn’t manage their own finances.” Ohyeon screws his face up, “They filled those boys' heads with promises they knew they couldn’t keep. Why the fuck would I stick around here?”

“It’s not gonna be HMT anymore. We just got a free ride into the biggest label in the country. And those boys spent months campaigning to kick you out,” Cairo puffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Fuck, Ohyeon, believe me when I say you’ll regret playing martyr. For who? For Chiwon?”

Ohyeon stares at him for a few seconds, shaking his head slowly. “God,” He mutters. “You’re totally fucking brainwashed.”

“You’ve said that so many times it’s lost all meaning,” is all Cairo has to say. There’s a part of him that truly wonders if Ohyeon has it in him to be an idol. His sense of justice might just be too strong. Cairo doesn’t know what it says about him that he can accept so many things that Ohyeon can’t seem to get over. Judging by the cards they’d been dealt by life, you’d think Cairo would be the idealistic one.

“So that’s it, then, you’re gonna stay here?”

“What else is there to do? Eight years, Ohyeon. We’ve been trying to do this for eight years now. If we give up here, that’s it. We’re just done.”

Ohyeon doesn’t say anything, just sits on his bed, next to his still empty suitcase, crying in vain. Cairo continues to pack and keeps his eyes pointed anywhere else. When Ohyeon speaks, he sounds more defeated than ever. “It’s already done, isn’t it? We’ve had more disbandments than albums, now. Even if they mean it when they say they’re gonna debut us again, even if they do, what if we’re just gonna be the laughing stock of the industry forever?”

Cairo sighs. “I dunno. I don’t know, man, what if we aren’t? Isn’t it worth trying?”

Ohyeon drops his face into his palms. “I just don’t think I have it in me, anymore.” He mutters.

“We were thirteen years old when they put us together. We’ve been fighting for this since then.” Cairo sits down on his bed, finally facing Ohyeon. He rests his elbows in his knees, hands folding in the space between, and he puffs out almost a decade’s worth of pressure and stress. “I don’t wanna do this if it’s not with you.”

Ohyeon’s eyes dart down to the floor, and a sigh of his own leaves him, heavy and tired. “I’m sorry.” He says.

Cairo stands, and slams his suitcase shut. Ohyeon begins to pack, and gives up.

AGE TWENTY-ONE.

“So when you go out there, you’re gonna wanna walk to the center of the stage. Stay there for a bit, don’t sit down straight away. Let the camera get a few shots of you looking out in wonder and stuff, alright? Remember, this is your last chance at making your dreams come true or whatever, so look like you wanna be here.”

“Right,” Cairo answers, not even sure where the voice is coming from amongst the throng of stylists pulling at his hair and slapping his face with powder puffs.

“In the case of an accident, your company is liable for any damages caused to the set or your person, so do take that into consideration,”

“I thought I was just choosing a seat-”

“Okay, we’re all set, so whenever you’re ready…” The stylists scurry away just in time for Cairo to see the stage hand gesture awkwardly towards the stage, and then curl her hand into a fist in silent encouragement. He takes a deep breath, and walks out onto the set.

He’d seen the set already; everyone had, it was the only room big enough in the studio space to gather them all to brief them on today's filming. Still, he gives a clumsy display of awe as he looks out at the pyramid of chairs, muttering ‘wow’ over and over again to himself, in a manner that he’s sure will only serve to make him look like a moron. Acting had never been a strong suit of his. From his first footstep, the other contestants break out into a flurry of muttering. Amongst the chatter, he picks out all of the usual topics of conversation. Two little kids. A group named Lux, or something? Their song was kind of… I remember his deep voice, he’s kind of handsome, he was a flop. Again? Why?

He knows better than to take it personally. He’d been fitted with an earpiece and warned that producers may funnel in suggestions for his commentary after he takes his seat and watches the other contestants. And before coming to the show, he’d been sat down by his new CEO and warned that the judges would be extra harsh to him, that the other boys would seem standoffish and that he had to endure it all with a smile. It was all part of a bigger plan.

And Yang Yeowoon had leaned over his writing desk, rich and handsome and privileged, and told Cairo that ‘everyone favours the underdog.’

So Cairo reaches center stage, and above him an LED screen tags him with the words ‘PANTHEON ENTERTAINMENT,’ grand and lofty, so much of a force in this industry that association with them guaranteed a starting fanbase and a big budget debut. Guaranteed more reach than some of these boys could ever dream of. He stands there, with his big label and his childhood full of vacations and the latest toys and the coolest sneakers, with his surgeon mother and private school teacher father, and he thinks of a boy he grew up with.

A boy who was always small, who’s face looked younger than his age. A boy who’d come to school in unwashed clothes, sit alone in the cafeteria and wolf down his lunch as if it was the first meal of his life. He’d be given all of the same opportunities as Cairo but be given none of the space to develop, none of the grace to improve. They’d beat him up and call him names, and they’d let everyone else in the world do the same, day in and day out, for the duration of his career and still after it’s collapse. A boy who would be bullied from his first day of elementary school, unrelentingly, for his entire youth; until he had no choice but to erase all evidence of himself and just hide.

As Cairo steps down from the stage, and ascends the staircase, past every row of stairs until he reaches the top, where a large, decorative chair boasts the #1 rank; a show of confidence choreographed by his label, he thinks, bitterly, that in real life, nobody favours the fucking underdog.

The night he wins, Cairo goes to bed early.

He was excited of course, but he’d be lying if he said it was a surprise. He’d been told by Pantheon from the very beginning to expect that he’d be debuting in the project group. He doesn’t know how much influence they had on that exactly, but he imagines that some money had changed hands.

The rest of the winning team had gone out for a drink, and Cairo suspects that it may paint him in a bad light that he didn’t join them. But he has a stronger feeling that this might be the last chance he gets to get a full night’s rest for a while; and it already feels like months since his last one of those. He’ll find his own way to celebrate, somehow. It’s a big deal, what just happened. He knows that, and he wants desperately to be happy about it, to have reacted like his to-be groupmates, collapsing into tears of gratitude, catching one another’s eyes and laughing in wonder at what they’d just achieved. He feels robbed, slightly, of any sense of pride or accomplishment, and he can’t help but wonder if he would have been able to do this on his own. Is he guilty? Does he even care? He’s yet to figure that out.

For now, his primary concern is getting to sleep.

The exhaustion had been heavy all day; it had taken an age to film the finale; but his three performances of the night paled in comparison to the drain on his energy from standing around waiting for names to be called all night. The liveshow aired for almost four hours, and he’d been on his feet on standby for at least two and a half beforehand. The balls of his feet, his knees, his lower back; all of them ached; and he’d been tossing and turning all night, trying to find a position to lie in where something didn’t hurt. It was just Cairo’s luck, really. God had a mean streak when it came to his sleep schedule.

With a sigh of frustration, he pulls his phone from underneath his pillow. The screen almost blinds him, and it takes all of his self control not to launch it against the wall when his eyes adjust and it tells him that it’s already four in the morning.

For a few seconds, he just stares at his phone. From his lock screen, Yang Minji looks up at him, mid-sentence and blurry. It’s his favorite picture of her, although she tells him to change it every time she sees it. He supposes that he’ll have to now, because people will start paying attention to him again, and she has a lot more to lose than he does.

Minji had been the best thing about the switch to Pantheon, though Cairo had noticed her long before he had ever signed. He’d seen her at music shows plenty of times, but she’d never so much as glanced in VoX’s direction. Everyone he asked about her called her a bitch, but Cairo still liked her. He thinks she’s the first girl he’s ever just looked at and gotten nervous, at least since he grew out of being nervous to talk to any girl at all. Even now, having slept over at Slumber Party’s dorm four or five times, he still catches his palms sweating around her, and finds himself worrying about whether or not she thinks he’s cool, and when he’s going to shatter that illusion and show her what a loser he really is. He’d never felt that way about a girl before, and it isn’t the best idea to date her, because her father is Yang Yeowoon; she’s his boss's daughter- but that just makes it feel even more exciting.

As his screen dims, Cairo feels his eyelids grow heavy. For a few minutes, he finally drifts off. Behind his eyelashes, fragments of scenes begin to build in his head, Minji and the way it feels to kiss her, the straps of her dress slipping from her shoulders, acrylic nails cold on flushed skin, the ends of her hair brushing across his bare chest; and then just as it starts to get really fun, he wakes with a start as his phone begins to buzz violently in his hand.

“Hello?” Cairo answers the call without even registering the name displayed, blinking heavily and cringing at the stale taste of interrupted sleep in his mouth.

“First fucking place,” A voice responds, soft and quiet, and ill-fittingly bitter.

Cairo freezes. Just like that, he’s wide awake, composing himself only enough to ask; “Ohyeon?”

“Now how’d you… as a rapper on a singing competition…” Ohyeon’s words are interrupted with a hiccup, and it becomes strikingly clear what he’s doing up so late. “How in the hell did you manage that?”

“Have you been drinking?” Cairo deflects.

“Yeah, so what? I’m not an idol. I can do… I can do whatever the fuck I want. I don’t need to ask my leader for permission anymore, so I just do whatever I want. Do you know what I want to do?”

“What?” Cairo asks, closing his eyes.

“Fuck men. That’s what. I mean, I do do it. I fuck men, now, that’s what I do,” Cairo can tell by now, when Ohyeon is spiralling. He’s not even listening to himself, he’s just talking. He has so much resentment within him that he can’t sort it out even enough to focus on which part is making him mad.

“I know.” Is all Cairo says.

“You do?” For a second Ohyeon seems caught off-guard, but it doesn’t last for long. “So that’s why you haven’t spoken to me since I left. What, are you disgusted by me? Do you hate me now, Cairo? Since you hate faggots so much.”

“I don’t hate f-… gay people, Ohyeon.” Cairo sighs deeply. A strange feeling rests itself on his chest, pushing him into his mattress. Like a gargoyle grinning down at him, it’s clawed toes puncturing his sternum. This has always been the feeling Cairo hates most in the world. “I know I said some shitty things when I was a kid-”

“Like that you wouldn’t go near one in case they felt you up-“

“I was just repeating what I heard older boys say, okay? I’m sorry, Ohyeon. I really, really am. I’m sorry for saying those things to you, and I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t tell me. But I’ve known for a long time, okay? I don’t give a fuck that you’re gay. You’re my fucking brother, man.”

Ohyeon is silent. It’s obvious that he was expecting this conversation to go another way, and that hurts Cairo; it makes him wonder just how awful he had really been. “Okay,” Ohyeon finally mutters.

“Wanna go back to what’s really bothering you?” Cairo suggests. “You called me drunk in the middle of the night to accuse me of cheating, not to come out to me, right?”

“Accuse?” Ohyeon scoffs. “Please, don’t tell me you’re going to deny it. I think I’ll go insane if you deny it.”

“You could be right here with me, Ohyeon.” Cairo reminds him. “Pantheon gave you the same chance they gave me.”

“You know what kills me, Cairo? What really, really fucking kills me?” Cairo doesn’t answer. Ohyeon waits for him, but Cairo already knows that he doesn’t want to hear it. The static on the phone crackles for a few seconds before Ohyeon decides he doesn’t need permission to tell him. “You don’t even want this. Not really. You didn’t grow up, fucking… dreaming of this day. You stumbled into the industry because it was offered to you and you had no idea who you were. And you still don’t. The only reason you’re still doing this is because it was the first thing to be readily handed to you. You just spent your whole life letting the older boys or the men in suits tell you who to be and what to do, and that’s what kills me, Cairo. It kills me that your way is the way that fucking works.”

Cairo swallows roughly. “Good to know I have the support of my oldest friend.”

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations, Cairo.” Ohyeon slurs. “It wasn’t authentic or moral, but congratulations. You won.”

The phone sings out it’s disconnected tone. Ohyeon is done.

And from the time Cairo wakes up the next morning, he struggles to find it in him to care about anything at all.

#fictional idol community #fictional idol group #kpop oc #idol oc #bts addition

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izar-tarazed · 6 months ago

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19, 7 and 23 for both Izar and Ensha <3

(Questions from the Edgy OC ask meme)

7. What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

I found this one surprisingly hard—I was sure I’d come up with plenty of things for both of them but most are rather additions to what I had initially envisioned for them, discovering more facets as I went along.

But I think that Izar had a way more serious personality initially. She has become somewhat more bubbly and up for mischief, and overall more lighthearted.

As for Ensha, the biggest change wouldn’t be personality-wise. But when I first started toying with the idea that he could become a companion for Izar, I still went with the canon that she had killed him, and had to come up with a bunch of rather complicated explanations as to why he returned. (It’s not like Elden Ring’s worldbuilding and lore wouldn’t allow for that, but it still made everything unnecessarily complicated.) Then at some point I realized that Izar being Izar wouldn’t even have killed him in the first place, and her simply sparing him has made so much more sense.

19. How does your OC behave when enraged?

Izar tends to get extremely snarky and blunt. Depending on the context, she might also just start spamming sorceries (not targeting anyone) to channel her fury. When facing foes, she might be more impulsive than usually.

Ensha—due to obvious reasons—is normally very good at concealing his emotions, but will care less about doing that when really enraged. It’s usually apparent in the way he signs (somewhat more choppy and fiercer gesturing) and moves in general. He might clench his fists. If a foe is responsible for his rage, Ensha will likely just lunge at him.

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Interestingly enough, I think guilt is hardest to process for both of them.

For Izar, her guilt is often deeply linked with grief but not always. The certainty of having failed someone and being unable to make it right because they’re gone for good is something she struggles with a lot. On the other hand, when it’s due to something that she still might fix, Izar is quick to offer apologies and try to atone. I’d say she’s generally better at expressing than processing it. (I’m having a hard time figuring out which emotion would be hardest to express for her; she’s usually good at expressing and rather bad at hiding them.)

Ensha is less likely to feel guilty in general—he can’t afford having qualms to carry out Gideon’s orders—but when he does, he’ll often consider it something that is now set in stone. Having served for a long time in an environment where failure was simply not an option, Ensha still takes it for granted that failure can’t and won’t be forgiven, so essentially guilt is something that must be endured—because whatever caused it has happened and cannot be undone. This perception conflicts a little with his distinct understanding of balance when it comes to being indebted and being owed (he deeply dislikes being indebted and will do everything to restore balance). So he’ll search for (often subtle) ways to make up for mistakes because it’s the right thing to do, but will not necessarily believe it will earn him forgiveness—which is the same reason he’ll rarely offer an apology.

#a letter affixed to a graveyard crow's leg | asks #asks for izar #asks for ensha #thank you for sending those in #and sorry it took forever to answer!#but those were fun to think about

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jikookuntold · 2 years ago

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This isn’t necessarily about Jikook, this is just a pet peeve of mine but I will use Jikook as one example. The one thing I absolutely hate is when people make it seem like because two are dating or are close to each other that it’s automatically their responsibility on how that person feels. “If Jimin was there for him, then he would be in a better place right now”. This is not necessarily true. Do you wanna know why, Anon? BECAUSE THAT IS HOW JK FEELS. Jimin can’t necessarily change how JK feels about himself. If JK feels like a rock that may have nothing to do with Jimin but have everything to do with how JK feels about himself. Humans are weird creatures. We act and feel ways that we can’t explain. For example, A and B are dating but A still feels deeply insecure about themselves. A thinks that they are the ugliest person in the world and that B could do so much better than them. Yet, B tells A that they are the most beautiful person that they have ever seen. B compliments A on everything that they do. Showers A with praises and compliments when they wake up in the morning. B buys A so many gift with beautiful flowers and letters each time letting A know they B loves them and will always them. So, because B does all this to make A feel loved, does that mean A will start feeling this way about themself? No, because it’s not about what B thinks about A. It’s about what A thinks about A. I hate when people blame themselves for how someone feels about themself or how some behaves.

👏👏👏

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restlesshush · 2 years ago

Text

Oh yes, I 100% agree it’s squareable on a character level, and you lay out reasons why very well. I think the place where it throws up the most issues for the show re the impressions it would like to give vs those it does, is actually re how other the side characters must feel towards Sam and Dean, in order to make sense of how they behave, given their pretty spotty treatment.

Like, on a doylist level, protagonist syndrome plus pretty utilitarian storytelling is why often not that much thought is put into having Sam and Dean show much care towards the characters they’re ostensibly friends with, and then on a watsonian level, this can be explained in terms of Sam and Dean’s upbringing and experiences, as you point out. Re protagonist syndrome, here I mean specifically the way spn often only really considers things from the point of view of its main characters, and so doesn’t pay that much mind to the effect their actions have on other characters, and doesn’t really invite the audience to do this either. Like, the reason the show doesn’t long term perceive a disconnect between, say, the language Sam and Dean use towards Kevin and their behaviour towards him, is that it’s simply not thinking about things from his point of view enough to realise. The callousness originates from the writing first and foremost, rather than the personalities of the characters, which end up being secondary. But the thing is none of these things make it any less true that Sam and Dean often behave pretty uncaringly towards the people they’re close to, and that those people still remain in relationships with them. A couple of the posts I’ve linked above explore this tension with various levels of explicitness (though Charlie stuff is something different), but probably the one the best lays it out is this one by @autisticandroids about how even though that’s not what Dean’s doing, the idea that Dean only keeps him around because he’s useful would be a very justified conclusion for Cas to come to based on the information he has access to – which gives you a picture of a set up that can’t be very pleasant for Cas. What I mean is essentially, Sam and Dean’s end of the show vs tell clash doesn’t necessarily pose huge issues for how things come off (as you showed, the character explanation for them is pretty in keeping with the general vibe of the show), but if you’re looking at things from the point of view of characters other than them, the disparity is a much bigger one.

To be clear, this isn’t about casting aspersions on Sam and Dean for their behaviour, because I just don’t think that’s a very interesting or meaningful thing to do, but I do think it is very striking that if you look at their relationships while shifting the focus away from them, you get a much more unpleasant picture than was presumably intended. Like, there’s the show about isolated, damaged brothers, who due to this don’t express a huge amount of care towards their close friends/allies, that’s kind of okay, but then what that also gives you is these close friends/allies (plus also an adoptive child!) who put up with this, barely questioning it, if they question it at all. Which has uhhhh… kind of alarming implications re the self worth of those people. And that’s when you get into situations of people getting highly disparate views on the show, based on 1) whether they buy into the picture the show tries to present, or the one it’s accidentally painted and 2) which character perspectives they prioritise within that.

Supernatural really does have show vs tell diseases when it comes to its portrayal of interpersonal relationships – like how close friends they claim the Winchesters are with [whoever] is generally not born out by how (much) they actually interact with them on screen. Like I was thinking about this specifically re Kevin: he has a really rotten time, including working really hard being really burnt out permanently while Sam and Dean don’t really seem to care, but then they do use friend/family terminology about him. There’s a language/treatment clash: the show wants you to think they’re friendly, but doesn’t actually bother to have actions particularly backing this up. Kevin’s functional purpose as a character is Prophet Stuff, so this is all they really give us with him. And also then he gets that sad funeral montage, which is like, pretty jarring in that it has a greater sense of him being Significant than the show’s really given him for the entire rest of his tenure but like, the fact it exists implies the show thinks it’s done the legwork to earn that, y’know? What the show apparently thinks it’s doing vs how it actually has treated Kevin 1) as a character in general and 2) as a character cared about by salmondean don’t really seem to line up.

And this does apply much more broadly too: I’ve talked about it re Jack, it makes Charlie weird, and it also makes things with Cas 1) gayer but also 2) more precarious-feeling from his point of view than is necessarily obvious if you take the show’s language at face-value. Like, the show/tell clash really does pervade a very significant amount of tfw’s relationships.

Anyway a big reason I think this is interesting is that it does to some extent result in people watching effectively two different versions of spn depending on whether they buy the (frequently – much more pleasant!) story it’s trying to sell you on re character relationships vs like what’s extrapalatable about the relationships purely from what we see of them. There are a couple of switches where if you flick them one way vs another for processing supernatural, people come away with very divergent views, and this is very much one of them. Is spn about found family or is it about an extremely isolated and pretty strained unit with… some acquaintances?

#anyway thank you for your addition i’d been wanting to make some of these points and it was good prompting to do so!#spn #worded thoughts

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luimagines · 3 years ago

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Hey, I’m not sure how to explain this but getting straight to the point, I’m the person who runs the yandere-linked-universe blog and I’m pretty sure you’re pinkittwice.

So, I was just wondering what ideas you might have about the chain being yandere for one person. Like, what would the dynamic be and how they would behave as yanderes, you know that kind of stuff.

I hope it’s not too much to ask but I’m just curious to see what you might think of it since you’re pretty much the only person on the sight that I know of who also writes things involving lu and the reader. I’m not unhappy or dissatisfied in any way but it does get a little lonely being the only person who writes stuff like this. Sorry if this is too weird.

Masterlist

Yahaha~! You found me!

Everybody go check out their stuff @yandere-linked-universe

They do cool art sometimes and are even writing a whole fic which you can find right here.

It's really well written and I'm excited to see how the story progresses and where it goes- especially endgame.

And I'm assuming the ask means if they were yandere in the same circumstance than in the story.

That being said, I'm still going to apply the rules I have set for the Links. Like how Sky was never with his Zelda and similarly how Time and Malon never really happened. As for Wind, he will not be platonic unlike in the fic mentioned above- I will explain this in his section I promise.

Also, disclaimer, I'm not good at horror and I've never written for these types of characters before. But if you want headcanons then I'll provide the brainstorm that I've been cooking up of ever since I got this ask. (And it was a while ago I'm sorry for the wait.)

I'm also including some songs that I think best fit their rose tinted glasses ideal. Not necessarily yandere and can apply to Link being in love with you in general but it's as close as I'm going to get to making a playlist.

I might come back and change them to stalker songs and add these songs to a separate list entirely but maybe not...

Content under the cut!

It's long, brace yourself.

As a group, I think jealously would run high.

Everybody wants the attention of a single person and there's eight other people as competition.

If the group was tight knit as we like to portray them, it won't last long.

If dear reader was a little caring or naturally falls into a healer/medic position in the group, the group becomes more reckless, less caring about their personal safety- if only to get a momentary caress from the love of their life's fingers as their wounds are tended to.

There's less group unity and alliances between them form.

If the reader isn't a fighter well...

They would take turns guarding their prize and fight to be the one to do it.

Leaving you behind when they go to dungeons is a must.

They won't risk you getting a scratch on your person let alone putting you in a potentially dangerous situation.

They try to keep all their weapons away and out of reach. Less you get any ideas and try to fight with them or worse, get hurt playing with them.

Or try to fight against them. HAHAHAHA!! How crazy would that be?

Like you would stand a chance.

When you're simply traveling with the group, your designated spot is on top of Epona, hands down, no questions asked.

Not only would be easier to keep an eye on you, and make it harder to get away, but Twilight has personally asked Epona (through Wolfie) that if they were ever ambushed, she was to take off with you and get away from the fight no matter the cost. She'll always come back to him anyway- so if you're tied to connected to her than all the more reason for him to be the one to retrieve you when it's all over.

The others don't like how Twilight gets to be the one to greet you first. But Epona is on Twilight's side and everyone knows it.

So they wait their turn.

You're on top of Epona even if you're a fighter as well.

If you can prove your salt and fight with them, they actually don't try to keep you away as much as they can (because now it means that they can spend more time with you!)

It instead becomes a competition to be your partner. Among the younger ones anyway.

The older ones, are less concerned now by you fighting, and more by the younger ones who keep trying to be by your side (even if that's their spot) and try to keep them out of your way.

Every bump and cut you get is treated immediately by who ever reaches you first.

It's once again a race.

The group, as yandere's go, do not know how annoying they're being nor do they plan to stop.

If you told stories of your past conquests, it a mixed bag of awe, adoration and anger for you even being put there to begin with. These thoughts are not voiced however, and they instead stew and simmer and grow into their possessive tendencies.

Because they would protect you, honor you, worship you and you wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again. Not if you were with them, not if you stayed with them, not if you were in their Hyrule.

There's a slight knee jerk reaction when you bring out your items to take it away because it's dangerous. But not only would that piss you off, it would take away what little protection you have on your person and they don't want to take any risks when it comes to your safety.

I wouldn't share too much if I were you.

youtube

Now as Individuals they're all different, obviously.

Let's explore that.

Time

He's the most dangerous

I'm starting this off with that

I'm talking the most calculating, scheming and devious of the whole group

He know he's in charge and that the others will listen to him regardless if they actually agree with him or not

Because he's the leader

His grip on the group lessens as time goes by and their unity dissipates

But he's delusional and he doesn't realize it

However, because he's already in this position, he takes it upon himself to take care of you

And others let him

Less work for them to focus on when they can be by your side instead

You never have watch

You're always in the middle of the group

He'd gladly send the boys ahead of you into danger to make sure that they deal with it before you even get there.

The others let him with little thought because it's for you

So they go for it

Time however, is somehow, never the one to go ahead, instead waiting behind (with you) while they go ahead and deal with the issue

He gets away with this 8/10 times

Mostly because he rotates who's he's sacrificing

Dad! Time is not here- not anymore

But he lets them near you because he's only biding his time

You're meant to be

Soulmates, if you will

If a little time with you is all those boys need to stay in line and listen to him then he'll allow it

Because they're only boys

He's a man through and through

They have nothing on him

And you deserve more than a mere boy

He has some other concerns on his mind while the boys fight each other like street dogs

Time has to think about your future together so he daydreams the most out of the group.

He doesn't really have a home and a roof over his head for himself- let alone you and he knows he'd have to change that

He thinks about staying as a permanent employee at Lon Lon Ranch

He can save enough money

Buy a house

Maybe some land

And enough things for you and him to make a comfortable life without any worries

Maybe even start a family?

The dream is a reprieve form the headache that are other boys who won't leave you alone

Pray you don't end up in his Hyrule

EVER

This is just the gateway he'd be waiting for to keep you all to himself

Fighter or not it's dangerous to travel with them

You're in danger

And he won't stand for that.

He doesn't know how exactly he'd do it

But he plans to leave you at Lon Lon Ranch, waiting for him, for when he comes back after the mission

He'd have to find some kind of way to actually keep you there and find you when you inevitably try to leave the Ranch

But he's traveled all over his Hyrule

There's no place you could go that he doesn't know about

As the adult of the group, he'd step over all the others

He's not going to listen to them when they try to stop him

They don't know as much as he does

They haven't experienced as much as he has

He knows that this is the best and only option to ensure that you're safe and well taken care of

He'd doesn't mind leaving you as prisoner to the Gerudo instead either if the others start to really get pushy

It won't be comfortable and it won't be glamorous

But they'll definitely keep you in one place

And he can walk in whenever he wanted thanks to that note from the chief from a time long ago

Pick you up, take you away and you'll be his

He daydreams a lot

And he knows that you'll choose him

You have to

He's the best and only option

He's never felt happier thinking about you and the life you'll both have

He's struggled so much anyway

Maybe you were the blessing the goddesses owed him for all his work in his youth

And surely they aren't so cruel to give you to him and then take you away by some monster attack or some terrible unforeseen fate

He can't have that either

So he'll take the first and best out he's given

But while you're here with him...

He's looking at you like you're magic

youtube

Warrior

Warrior is the least dangerous

He knows the feel of being on the receiving side of someone's obsession

He was ignorant for a long time about it

But he wasn't sure how to feel comfortable in his own skin again when he found out about it

He can see how the others are starting to show similar obsessive tendencies and tries to mitigate what he can

He does a lot of damage control

It's what he's trying to do anyway- he's not very successful

Warrior is the one who's challenging their train of thought

Why do they think this is ok? Why don't they ask you for your opinion? Why do they not give some time alone to recharge? Why don't they lay off?

Because it's totally for your benefit- AND THEIRS

Because it's not ok

He doesn't see himself follow the exactly same train of thought

He doesn't see himself doing what they're doing

He's just annoyed that they're the ones doing it

Warrior becomes the very definition of hypocrite.

However- because he's the one acting as your advocate- the others don't consider him as much as a threat and therefore more inclined to listen to him at this point in time than Time himself

It also means that they don't fight him as much when he wants time with you. Mostly because in their eyes, he's not interested

They're wrong

At some point in Warrior's attempt to keep the group together and keep you from going crazy or hating all of them, he begins to gain ulterior motives in his mission

He begins to play the role in an attempt to win you over.

Because- see, he's not like them

He won't violate your space

Go through your stuff

Or keep you from doing what you love

He's the one to say you should join them in fights, that you should stay, that you can hold your own

Since he's the main strategist in the group, he takes into account your skills and always places you at a distance from the fight or from the most obsessive the group.

He knows that their one track mind could kill you or them and there's still the darkness to defeat.

They don't have the luxury to afford this kind of distractions

When the others aren't paying attention to him, he'd pepper you with compliments and flirty lines, playing up his charm and suave attitude

He becomes the perfect gentleman

You'd never know that he's crazy

Just join him and be with him- that's all he wants

He loves you so what more is there to offer you?

He's got the status, the looks and the means to take care of you so you wouldn't have to worry about anything else

He'd be the best husband that Hyrule has ever seen

He'd hate to have the group scare you off with how over the top they've all been.

He knows the group is being annoying with being by your side all the time and how they don't let you be and how there's always someone by your side even when you're at your final straw

Warrior is the one who takes over guarding you when you need to pee or bath and actively argues on your behalf to let you take care of your hygiene.

He's not always successful but it's the thought that counts right?

Hyrule agrees with him most of the time and since Hyrule seems to be the only one who still cares (somewhat) about the mission, they make an agreement

Warrior isn't at all concerned about the others and know that you'd come around to him eventually.

Since he's not like the others

You're his first thought in the morning, his last thought when he rests his head to sleep and there's nothing that he hasn't been doing that wasn't for you

youtube

Hyrule

Hyrule is the least possessive

Mostly because of his low confidence.

I've mentioned in a previous post that is unrelated to this, his love language is physical touch- so he's all over you

There always have to be some way that he's holding you- whether its a hand on your shoulder or the small of your back, maybe he's holding your hand or maybe he's just pinched the edge of your tunic

But he's careful to not go beyond what you're comfortable with

He doesn't want to you to pull away from him

Because the others will not hesitate to push and pull him away if you so much as hinted at not wanting him near you

So he plays it cool

Hyrule also gets concerned when there's too many injuries to go around and he needs to heal the group

Because if you hurt then he can't spare anything else to help you

It's one of the few things he thinks that he's useful for- so if he can't do this little thing for you then why does he bother?

There's so many other guys here that could easily sweep you off of your feet and have so much more to offer you

He doesn't have any land

He doesn't have a house

His Hyrule... isn't the most welcoming and he doesn't like the idea of bringing you from one dangerous situation to another

Especially since he's being hunted for sport back home

It doesn't stop him from trying to win your heart obviously and he tries to show you and win you over in whatever little ways he can.

He's the gentlest with you

Whatever hurting you, he'll heal

Whatever scaring you, he'll deal with

Whatever danger comes your way, he'll end it's miserable existence

He- like Time- daydreams a lot but he's trying to live for the moment

He's almost resigned in a way- that you won't pick him

He knows they're on borrowed time, he knows that something dangerous can take you away from them or that he could be the one to be taken away instead

So he's trying to make up for it in the time that you do have together and spend every second by your side that he can

Because the group gets a little more reckless in their attempts to impress you and be dealt with (whether you're healing them and tending to their wounds or just yelling at them)

He heals the group a lot little less

If they're going to be stupid and get hurt- then he's not going to waste his magic when they're only going to do the same thing the next day

Soon, with enough time and patience, Hyrule begins to hoard all the healing potions as well.

It's an attempt to keep them away from you so when they're hurt he can step in and just get them healed up in a minute

But it also works to keep the group from getting too reckless

It's not his intention but he takes it as it is

If they get hurt too much anyway then that just means less competition for him to deal with and a higher chance with you!

Because of his low confidence about you actually ending up with him, he becomes one of the more mission minded of the group, probably right after Warrior

Since they both have their sights on eradicating the darkness instead of focusing on their love lives (for different reasons) this is the first alliance to be formed

Hyrule wants you to be his but he's at a crossroad

He knows Warrior has a lot of charm to win you over and has the means to make sure you live a good life

He knows it's more than he can ever give you

But he's fairly certain he can take Warrior in a fight

One well timed Thunder Strike and Warrior wouldn't stand a chance

Not to mention that they've been fighting side by side now, so he knows what to look for to bring him down

He doesn't think it'll come to that though

Warrior doesn't seem that interested with you anyway so he doesn't worry about him

Which just leaves the problem of winning your heart

He wonders what life would be like he can love like you do

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Twilight

Twilight is the most protective

It's his wolf instincts and his caretaker instincts combined.

He's used to being the one to look after everyone else

Being his village's primary babysitter and all

But wolves are family animals and they protect their mates

He's the one to fight to keep you away from the fights, whether you can handle yourself or not

He can Four agree with this and it's the second alliance that forms

You must be protected at all costs and there's many things around that can injure you, or worse

So they both try their hardest to keep you safe and secure

If bubble wrap existed in Hyrule you would have been wrapped in it and then wrapped again for good measure.

He's the first to run up to you and the first to drag over Hyrule or someone with a fairy or a potion to treat you

He's not afraid to start punching anything that dares to threaten you

Forget the sword

He'll just start swinging... or maybe just go full Woflie even if he's not in his form and go for the jugular

He lets you ride on Epona more often than not and refuses to let you work more than you should

He's quick to carry things for you

He tries to impress you by being a handy man and tries to fix whatever he can get his hands on for you

He's not good at it

But he tries

His love language is acts of service so he's trying

You don't really need his help though

But let him get it out

And tell him that he's doing a good job please, for your sake

He talks a lot about his home life with you and he ask a lot of questions about your own

He's comparing notes

Trying to see what way of life you'd be more comfortable with and how he can accommodate to it

He tries to win you over with the simple life and he paints pretty pictures of having a ranch and a farm and letting you have all and any animals you want

Wolfie make an appearance every other day instead of simply whenever it's convenient

If you're a dog lover then it's even better.

Twilight is not afraid of taking advantage of it to give you all the kisses and cuddles he can get away in his other form

The others would have to fight the each other just to get kisses from you but Wolfie gets special privilege's

He gets kisses no problem

He's not above using it to his advantage

Epona is always on Twilight side and while he's in wolf form, he tells her all about you and how much he loves you and all the ways he finds you amazing and spectacular

Because you're riding Epona more often than not, he tells her to watch after you and to keep your safe and to get to a safe area if they ever get ambushed

She doesn't know how human romance works, so she agrees.

Link is her master and her best friend, so she trusts him with her life and you're important to him, clearly, so you're important to her too

He's not going to lose you like he lost Midna

She left him behind with barely a glance behind

You won't leave him at all

He'll make sure of it

The others won't take you away from him either

Four seems to be the one who's most on his side right now and together they can lessen the competition

He'd hate to fight the guy and maybe they can come to an understanding but he knows he's got the brute strength that Four lacks not to mention Wolfie and Epona as well

So maybe he'll listen to reason

His world used to be so grey with no change in either direction

An eternal twilight

You became his light in the gloom

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Sky

Sky is the least violent

He actually falls in the middle of both protectiveness and jealousy.

But he's more set on letting each of the boy pick each other off (not unlike Time) and then he'll figure out who's left over to deal with them then.

Sky also isn't one to fight off the other people who you interact with

He's not going to go confront the person or drag you away and definitely not going to start swinging

He still feels uncomfortable if you aren't by his side but he'll make up for it when you're done by sticking to your hip

Sky doesn't want you to feel cramped by only talking to the group

But he does get a little jumpy when you're beyond his line of sight.

That being said- he will let you out of his sight

Not for long periods of time, mind you, but he's not going to be in your shadow the entire time or demand to be glued to your hip

He's arguably the most normal out of the group- the least yandere if you will

Still crazy though

Sky is also one to agree with Warrior and Twilight.

He's not a part of any alliance but between wanting you to be safe and still wanting you to be healthy and clean (he knows how being clean helps out ones moral and he doesn't want you to be depressed when you're with them) he'd let them do the fighting and arguing for him and when they lose a bit, he'll say something and add to their cause

He's trying to be chill and he plays on his harp when you're nearby.

If you come sit next him to listen and chill- he will absolutely be over the moon

He will go through some of your things to make sure you have anything and everything you'd need for their adventure

But he won't take away your weapons or go through your diary (he wouldn't be able to read it anyway)

He does try to ask you in some roundabout way if he has permission to do that.

It'll be long winded and vague and a total play on words, so be careful to what you agree with when he asks something of you

Sky although is the least violent, that's in regards to other humans

Monsters have learned to keep away from him when he's on the battle field and if they haven't learned that...

They will

He's the one that tries to have your relationship mature and grow naturally.

Sky is going to simply be your friend first and show you that he has your best interest at heart

So when you talk to him about your problems and how the others are driving you crazy, he'll give you advice, tell you he's on your side and openly give you outs to avoid the others.

If you want time alone and the others begin looking for you, he'll tell them you went in the other direction and he'll send them on a wild goose chase.

Since he's on your side, he tells you to at least let him know where you're going and for how long so he can distract the others.

He's not concerned about you running away, since the others are going to do the work for him

Four and Twilight and Wolfie can find and hunt you down in a heart beat and you'll be together again

He won't blame you for running away, there's a lot of people who won't leave you alone in the group and it annoys him too

And Hyrule, Wind and Time keep you within the group and close by so he never has to worry about not knowing where you are at all times

Warrior and Wild keep you well fed and well taken care of

And Legend makes sure that you always have a potion on you and has even given some power rings to ensure your safety

So all he has to do is butter you up by being the least persistent of them all and you'll fall for him and you can be together forever and ever and even be the start of Hyrule as everyone knows it

Wouldn't that be nice?

While he may not be the most musically inclined of the group, he's the one to serenade you when he gets the chance

He plays his harp more often than not, trying to get the notes out that he hears in his head when he looks at you

His life was such a simple song before you came along but now... It's a symphony, he wants you to know this

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Four

Four is the most controlling

He's the one putting restrictions on you left and right and is the one to never want you to leave his side- let alone his line of sight.

You see, he's got these voices in his head that bounce ideas off of each other.

When one might be, hey that guy is talking to you

The other responds with, he's close to you too

One might say, you're smiling and it's beautiful

Another says, why is it directed at that guy?

Which snowballs to, you're a little too close, a little too nice, is he flirting? Has he touched you? Is he trying to make a move?

And then he's even more possessive and it grows and spirals and next thing he knows, he's next to you again and chewing the poor guy out for no reason when it was a simple conversation about the weather and directions.

And that's in public

Now add in the threat of monsters and traps and many other dangerous that surround the group as a whole

He's paranoids in the extreme

So when Twilight suggests that they tie you to Epona and keep you where he they can always see you, he's the first to agree

In fact he feels as if Twilight is the only one who's actually looking out for your well being

Wind tries to throw fits and get the two of them to back off but he's just a kid, what does he know? He should know better anyway, he knows how dangerous this journey is going to get, so why is Wind trying to actively put you in harms way?

Twilight a least can get Wind to listen to reason and Twilight's better at explaining it than he is so while Four'll yell, Wind is really Twilight's problem.

He doesn't like the idea of fighting is friends but he can see that well... He's the only to notice that they're not as close as they used to be when you first joined.

He thinks that Warrior can feel it but Four is the one who'll say it out loud.

Four is actually the most trigger happy out of all them, he's not afraid to break character and yell at some poor passerby who's too foolish enough to even look in your direction

He's the angry guard dog in public and it's a little hard to reign him most of the time

Twilight agree with him in this but he's also the one to hold him back

The last thing they need is to be kicked out of town

But if while you're there maybe he can get something for you?

He's the kind of person to make something for their beloved but he only knows how to make weapons and tools

Things that he's never going to give to you and actively tries to keep them away from at all costs

Yes, if you have your own weapons he'll also try to take them away

He'd rather see you angry than injured

No, he does not see how being weaponless in a fight will lead to more injuries and no, he not going to listen to those who try to tell him that.

Maybe he can learn how to make jewelry and gift that instead?

A pretty thing like yourself should be adorned in more beauty.

And he can save enough to make it with rubies and diamonds and any gold that he can salvage in Hyrule

He'd give you and make you anything you want

You'd be dripping in jewels if he had it his way

He also knows that the voices try to point out his flaws and all the ways that he's really not that appealing to any potential partners

It doesn't matter that he's merged and they all have the same flaws

But whenever he's next to you and things are calm, the voices are quiet and he feels like him

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Wild

Wild is the Most violent

Like Four, he does not care if it's a simple conversation, if someone else is taking up your time and attention then he will want to start swinging.

He's usually held back by Warrior and Time since Twilight typically has to restrain Four

But if you're in danger? Real danger?

He becomes the equivalent of the Fierce Deity, no mask required

The battle field becomes a blood bath by his hand alone

Sure the others will want to to cause some destruction as well and destroy any and all threats to you, but Wild goes the extra mile

Forget Twilight going feral, he has an excuse- but Wild?

He'll go ballistically feral, even going as far to drop his weapons to rip into the threats with his hands and teeth

He has to make sure there's absolutely nothing in between you and him

He's not afraid to throw away his whole good guy reputation and even the reputation of the hero in order make sure he's the last man standing

Wild is now taking notes on how the the group fights and how they defend themselves, defend you and try to figure out the best ways to take them down

If there was ever to be a physical fight within the group, he'll not only be a part of it but most likely also the instigator

Wild has already lost all his friends and family before, he can't afford to lose anyone else

Besides his Hyrule has so much more to offer you than some of the others

Not to mention he has his own house- in a safe village- with low monsters around it- and barely any reason to think that he wouldn't be able to provide for you

He's got the rupees he needs from his monster farming and everything's nearby. Whatever he can't get, he can teleport to and he wouldn't have to leave you alone for long periods of time.

Wild goes out of his way to buy you clothes since the others have taken care of your other needs (much to his chagrin)

But he also makes sure you have the best portions of the meals he makes

He keep tracks how much you ate and when

He always there to give you a snack if you even mention of being peckish

He knows the others won't mind if he dotes in this manner

Not only because it's for you...

He has all the food anyway.

When he sees that you're wearing Legend's old tunic, he instantly hates it

He and Legend are less of an alliance and merely on tolerable terms- not that Legend notices or cares- because of this and Wild knows that your clothes have taken a lot battery

He wants to you be warm and protected

But he also has a lot of extra outfits

So he takes a page out of Legend's book and gives you some as well

He's a little disappointed you don't wear them as often but he knows that most of them are specialized for certain terrain- Legend's is more of a catch all kind of deal so he can understand the need for general uses

He's not happy about it

But he understands

The crazy thing is, you wouldn't want to end up in his Hyrule either

Pray you never do

Like Time, Wild has been all over his Hyrule and has traveled to all the nooks and crannies

He knows that he can hide you away without the others ever knowing what happened to you

Not even Wolfie would be able to track you

Why?

Because (and this is from AoC) he can teleport more than one person at a time, so he can just take you far away and somewhere secluded, somewhere where you wouldn't be able to leave

Hebra region? In the cabin where he learned how to shield surf? Or play the snow bowl game?

Gerudo Wasteland?

Akkala Region? With Robbie? It's hard to get past the guardians and the high level monsters...

Or maybe ditch you in the mountains with Paya in Kakariko Village?

Or maybe leave you on the Great Plateau? You can't get down without a paraglider...

Life with you is the only reason he's still on this journey instead of just taking you and leaving

The darkness is still around and it threatens his future with you

But it looks bright in his head when all is over and he's so happy that he met you

Life is now pink! And he won't take off his rose tinted glasses any time soon!

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Legend

Legend is the most possessive

As some people have headcanoned in the past, he has a problem letting things go

He's lost so many people he cares about- he knows that items are a little harder to lose

He's the Collector- the Hoarder

Naturally when he sees something that he wants, he'll stop at nothing to make it his.

However, since he has a problem coming into direct contact with his own feelings, he's projecting

Legend instead tries to keep you at arms length and fails miserably

He doesn't want to fall for someone only to have them be ripped form him again, and again and again,

He cares for the group still even after their disagreements and eventually mistrust

He doesn't want to leave this little family they've made for themselves and has disillusioned himself into thinking that he can save it before it's too late

But in his fairytale ending, you're with him

Legend, though, still knows that their time will end and everyone will eventually go home so by the time everyone begins fighting and jealousy runs amuck, he's trying to hold everyone at arms length

When you don't give him attention, he's prone to get angry and may very well at times act like he hates you

He doesn't like it when you so much as breath in someone else's direction

You're his and his alone, why is anyone else even worth your time and energy?

But he's not going to say this out loud

So he's frustrated with himself and pouts often

So he's stuck in a cycle of self hatred and jealousy and not willing to do something to change it

But when you do give him attention, he's melts into a puddle

He's at your beck and call if so much as say his name

There's very little that he isn't willing to do for you or get for you, anything to make you happy

He's also quick to give you power rings to protect you even if he's against you fighting

Legend is also going to give you an extra tunic if (/when) your clothes take too much damage and they're too far gone for him to fix

It's a power move on his part

Not only does he feel giddy with boyish excitement when he sees you in his old tunic (that definitely has some kind of magical properties to ensure your safety), it's also him marking you as his property

And the others know it

Wild does a similar thing so you can at least have a change of clothes but Legend is quick to tailor them when you're not looking to not fit you and be uncomfortable

He's the one going through your things for sure

He need to know that he's the one who's taking care of you

He needs to know you have everything you need

He needs to know if there's anything that you're lacking so that he can sweep in and provide it for you

He's not really planning on taking out the competition or is planning beyond keeping you by his side for the day

He (like Hyrule) is living for the moment, because he's afraid he's going to blink and you'd be gone and there would be nothing else left for him

But you won't be gone

He's going to make sure of that

He's got tunnel vision for sure

But since he's also trying to not fall for you and get his heart broken, it becomes a game of hot and cold with a whole lot of minefields in between that could set him off for (what looks like) no reason

He hates you- no he doesn't- he wants nothing to do with you- he wants to be your everything- he's not going to write you poetry or braid your hair or fall asleep listening to your heart beat- he would kill for that to be his reality- he hates that you're all he's able to think about now- don't leave him please

He's not crushing

He's not

He is

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Wind

Wind is the least protective- Still protective but arguably not to the degree of the others

You see, he knows that the others protect him because he's the youngest

And he's not blind

He can see that they're just as, if not more, protective over you

He can see how you hate it and how much it annoys you

He's not going to make that same move

And as a bonus, since the others are protecting you anyway, why should he put in the work and protect you as well?

There's enough people watching you all the time

With the others taking care of it, he can plan on winning you over

He's going to give you as much freedom as he's able to get away with

It'll put him as your favorite

This immediately puts him at a crossroads with Four who's somehow a hair's breadth away from tying you up and chaining you together by the wrists

They fight against each other the most

He plans on marrying you

It's honestly in the same degree of young children that say they're growing to grow up and marry their dad or their mom

Because obviously you marry the person you love and you stay with them for the rest of your life

And he loves you.

So that's what he plans to do

Win you over is step one

Then he (and you) just need to wait a few years for him to get older

And then he'll marry you

He does not see a problem with this plan

Typically I make the reader the same age as him to avoid the worst of it but in this case, this does not matter

I'd say that if you're older, he'd get more easily attached to giving you the freedom you've been missing

With him by your side obviously

Because you're older- you're an 'adult'- you can take care of yourself

You're so cool in his eyes

The others, naturally, see a problem with this

Not only out of jealously at the very thought of it not being them to marry you but because they know he's young and if you're older, (say closer to Twilight and Warrior's age) then they can see the problem it'll prove to be for you from a moral stand point

The others (mainly Legend and Four) bully tease him when you're not around about how selfish he is to even think about making you wait, when you could easily marry one of them instead, so why would you ever choose him?

He tries not to let it get to him because he does hang out with you more than they get to- so maybe they're really just jealous that his plan is working

Wind has the more innocent approach to this whole ordeal out of the whole group

His obsession isn't healthy, obviously, but he at least the excuse of being young and not knowing how to deal with crushes

Because he's awkward with it, (and he knows it) he's actually pretty quick to shut away the worst of it when he's spending time with you, less you think he's weird and push him away

Not only does he not want that to happen, but he's heard the others come up to you countless times regarding him and his behavior and if you'd like him to leave you alone

Because they will deal with him if you so much as say one word of annoyance

The choice is yours

If you indulge him when he wants your attention then he's more like himself and becomes the most normal out of the whole group

He becomes the him when you first joined

Before the obsession

Wind becomes your safest bet in terms of keeping your sanity intact and it's the groups saving grace to keep up any illusion that they're still normal

Wind is dealing with a highly flammable vial of puppy love concentrate

All in the form of budding teenage yandere hormones

If you had met him any later in his life, the cocktail would have no doubt exploded into the form of the other's behavior and he'd seem like a completely different person instead

He's almost like a lost puppy, always following you around and being in your shadow

It would be cute if he wasn't crazy

Wind adores you though and he wants you to know that

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#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #also yeah I get it #It's bit difficult to be the only one making this kind of content #mostly because there's not a lot of people to bounce ideas off of #feel to talk any time #i dig your story #and thanks for the request!#i had a lot of fun with this #i feel like the lists are a bit short #but the post itself was very long #let me know if anyone wants more #yandere #yandere thoughts

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bi-demon-ium · 2 years ago

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also i’d just like to say i do not not NOT trust that the glenns were actually Good Parents. i know nicholas says something along the lines of “if he’d been raised with loving parents like i was, would he have turned out the way he has? i highly doubt it!” but like. i mean first sign is the fact they adopted one out of a pair of twins in the first place because again i can’t get my brain around that like. you are in an orphanage full of children who desperately need a home and it’s not like you know any of them super well! they’re not puppies, you don’t just choose the most quiet and well-behaved one that does tricks! like! what!

and then there are other things, too, that just like, make me wonder. mr. benedict keeps his name--benedict (actually it would have been an interesting choice, although one i’m very glad they didn’t make, if that had been the name of his adoptive parents, and curtain had never been a “benedict”, but again i’m glad they didn’t go that way lmao)--and isn’t “nicholas glenn”, and as he has no living parents to keep his name in memory of or anything, it seems a little odd--it’s certainly possible he kept it for his brother, which is. actually its own sad idea, but like. there’s also just how they interacted with the kids in the little screentime they get--they’re certainly not cruel or deliberately unkind, but the very obvious snub of nathaniel (both in walking past him and in their very unhidden reactions to his over-the-top-ness and in how they act when they’re actually taking nicholas away) feels a little weird to me, even if unintentional.

and, of course, there’s just.... everything about mr. benedict as an adult. the man has the self esteem of a squashed peanut on the circus floor. he’s carrying around immense and completely unaddressed & bottled up guilt, and he seems to have been alone for some time and now only has the gang, whom he seems to think will drop him immediately if given sufficient reason (which in his mind is: he was apparently a selfish twelve year old?? admittedly he also thinks this directly leads to curtain trying to take over the world and therefore what has consumed their lives the past several years and ruined milligan’s, but that’s not the thing he focuses on when he says he’d understand if they wished to resign after hearing of his “moral smallness”).

there’s a few other things that are mostly speculation--i do think the main reason nicholas didn’t speak up at sunday dinner was because, despite how guilty he felt about it, he liked not being around his brother and his controlling nature. but it’s definitely arguable that he was also afraid that if he did try to push it, he might be sent back, he might lose what he has, etc. he certainly wasn’t confident enough to tell them how he was feeling honestly--ie, not necessarily to take his brother in as well, but that he missed him and felt conflicted about it--which is understandable, but telling. (how i think of that is while it certainly makes sense he’d be insecure and guilty enough about it not to tell an adult, even a trusted one, do you think one of the kids would tell mr. benedict or their respective trusted adults--miss perumal and milligan in particular--something like that? because i think they would. but they are exceedingly good paternal figures, so.)

another piece of speculation is why they might have chosen nicholas over nathaniel--the only hint we get in canon is we heard you liked to read, and maybe nathaniel’s little spiel about how he’s quiet/easy/small/smart/etc, both of which could mean a lot of things. while this is, again, speculation and headcanon (not contradicted by canon and certainly fitting, but not confirmed in any way), i think it’s very possible that it was precisely for his quiet, “easy” manner that he was chosen. nathaniel was being uh... okay, i’m gonna be honest, pretty obnoxious (rip nathaniel me too as a kid) during their little recital and afterwards, and their reaction showed a clear like... i wouldn’t even say distaste, but it wasn’t a pleased reaction, you know? i think it’s easy to see how nathaniel, in attempting to be seen as brilliant and multi-talented, accidentally branded himself as difficult/loud/attention-seeking, while nicholas, who shied away from the spotlight and gladly let his brother take it, accidentally attracted attention as the “easier”, quieter twin. which is... not a great look, i think, taking--again, one of a pair of twins--and leaving behind the “difficult” one. but again, to be fair, i’m straight-up speculating here.

ANYWAY. now, don’t get me wrong. i’m not necessarily saying they were straight-up abusive or like, the worst parents in the world, nor do i think they were necessarily malicious. but take it from me, you can have parents that aren’t malicious and aren’t hitting you or being direct and intentional about hurting you emotionally that are still really shitty parents. sometimes they’re even really good and loving parents.... some of the time. and it makes it hard to categorize them as anything but “loving parents” because they do love you! and sometimes they’re great! sometimes they’re wonderful! and then sometimes they hurt you. sometimes they hurt you really badly. sometimes they don’t understand your needs. sometimes they neglect you. and maybe sometimes this is because they’re human--they make mistakes, as anyone does. but sometimes this is because despite the fact they probably do genuinely love you, they are also selfish, or they lash out, or they don’t understand and might not even try to.

(thinking about parallels to sq and curtain? me too! i do think curtain’s shitty parenting is a bit more intentional purely because he is purposefully manipulating sq even if he thinks it’s for sq’s own good as well as his own (selfish, not that he’d admit that) motivations (aka “the greater good”) but like. the parallels are still kinda there i think.)

so maybe they’re not cruel or bad people. maybe they even were loving parents, who genuinely did care about nicholas. but i highly doubt they were good parents--or maybe just good parents all the time. i also think nicholas absolutely will not and has not admitted this to himself. like up until he actually faces curtain--and once finding out curtain has specifically done a metric fuck-ton of deeply messed up and wrong things, placing him firmly not on the high ground--he’s still kinda looking back at it with rose-colored glasses, spinning it to be softer on curtain and blaming himself almost entirely. he feels guilty but not angry. it’s only once he sees curtain in person and really comes to terms with what his brother has done that he even begins to get angry and even then he’s still guilty as hell. considering the glenns are almost certainly dead (considering just generally how we get the impression none of them have much in the way of consistent contact with anyone outside of the house, if any, as well as possibly the time--not that it’s inconceivable they could still be alive, it’s not, but it’s a factor), if not out of his life in some other way, i don’t think he’s going to get that kind of confrontation, and even if he did, i think the main reason he managed to let himself get really angry at curtain at all was because of everything he did, particularly to children. if his parents haven’t done anything else it’s far more likely in my eyes that he’d just kind of. revert back a little, let old patterns continue, and tell himself really, everything’s fine, they didn’t mean it like that, or they really did mean to make time, or whatever it is. (i know i’m being very vague and that’s because it could really come in any flavor, and if i try to get more specific it will veer not only into complete baseless speculation but undoubtedly just into ‘gert projects his very specific issues onto mr benedict again’ which, let’s be honest, i’m already slightly doing again 😩)

plus, admitting that they might not have been amazing parents is admitting that it might not have been entirely his fault he was adopted, and admitting that even if nathaniel had been adopted as well or instead of him, it might not have been sunshine and roses for him either. (although he would have reacted differently in that situation that doesn’t mean he would have had a better time, especially if he was labelled as “difficult”--and if it was both of them, had nicholas been labelled the “favorite”... believe me, being in that position is fucking terrible for both parties and will drive a wedge between the closest of people. and for nathaniel, who already reacted very, very terribly to nicholas being chosen over him? who was trying very very hard to be the favorite? yeah that would quickly become a very awful situation for both of them. it would hurt nathaniel deeply, and in turn drive a deeper wedge between them--rather than them being cut off from each other, it’d be a slow death of trying to cling to that relationship while being driven apart by resentment and favoritism. nathaniel would probably lash out at nicholas in turn, who would feel guilty about getting “better” treatment/more attention, and like, just. all-around bad! sorry this is another tangent) so like admitting that even if he had spoken up, let alone if it had worked, it still might not have fixed anything? i think he’d have trouble accepting that because he’s been blaming himself for so long. (and now we’re back to curtain blaming him rather than the adults--because they both do that! isn’t that interesting! i’m in pain)

anyway now i desperately need him to somehow confront this and/or talk about it with one of the gang and/or have him just casually mention things or anecdotes as he opens up a little more about his childhood (before he was kind of a vault about anything before college, because it all reminded him of that old pain, but now that that particular wound has been exposed and--and maybe healed, just a little bit--suddenly he has other things to say, even if he only shares the light-hearted things... or things he uh. thinks. are light-hearted. you know when you share a Funny Childhood Anecdote and suddenly people just look kind of horrified and pitying? haha yeah) he like will share things and the adults are like hey uh??? hey nicholas??? hey nicholas??? what the fuck. anyway i need mr b’s friends to realize this man has been through So Much Shit and i need them to give him a hug or several. .....i am somehow just now realizing that this entire rant was leading directly into this other long fic idea ive had for a while that is basically about exactly that. hm.

#nicholas benedict #mr benedict #the mysterious benedict society #mbs disney #mr curtain #ld curtain #nathaniel benedict #mbs #tmbs #mysterious benedict society #the longass fic idea that i . have not written but am meaning to. concerns sq and mr b parallels #and some painful ass angst #long post #or fuck if i know maybe they really were straight-up awful #lmao probably not but. man wouldn't that be painful

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doomdays · 2 years ago

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maybe it’s because ronan is spoken of the way he is that silas already feels connected to him, in some way. everyone seems to have bad stories about the way he’s behaved or the way he’s made jobs difficult for others, but silas has been that guy before, he’s been the person whose reputation follows him around like a dark cloud, acting as a shield for everyone else to hide from. people assumed the worst of him, and he never got the chance to just be who he really was ( not until he met elton, iris—the rest of his friends. ) maybe what people say about ronan is true, but silas isn’t going to take their word for it. he was assigned this job; therefore, he’s going into it ready to figure out who ronan is as he presents himself to silas, not to those before him.

and if he is as bad as he says—— maybe he has good reason. silas did.

he knows enough to understand that ronan doesn’t entirely believe him. silas can’t blame him for that, but he’s still adamant about doing this job well, and he’s adamant about proving that to be true. this is so much easier than manning the streets of the zone with a gun in his hand; looking to one person to protect, that doesn’t feel so overwhelming, and in some ways, it feels like silas has been granted some of his identity back. deep down, he knows that’s not necessarily true; he is still just another FEDRA puppet, their weapon, but there are less eyes on him when he’s focused one person, and that makes him feel a little less stuck. ❝ i am, ❞ he insists, taking a deep breath yet careful to not make it so noticeable; he’s nervous, and anyone looking at the way his jaw lightly trembles or his hands shake can see that, but he is doing his best — and he won’t let ronan scare him away.

his brows furrow, sweat forms at his hairline, and he tries to figure out ronan’s angle. he doesn’t agree with a lot of this system; he’s here in honor of dennis, for his own survival, and that’s it. along the way, he’s committing every small piece of the puzzle to memory, trying to figure out the truths that FEDRA doesn’t tell their soldiers or their people. ❝ he was wrong. for trying to kill you, ❞ he answers first. that’s not what ronan is asking, but he needs to say it anyway. with another deep breath, he shakes his head. ❝ —- why? why was his girlfriend being executed? ❞ he needs more context. maybe some soldiers would be quick to answer, but silas believes there’s right and wrong — and that used to be so skewed to him, but the more he learns about how this place operates, the clearer it is. ❝ i don’t think having to die for your crimes is ever right—- not . . . not as simple as that. people do things for a reason. if they’re doing it to protect themselves or protect someone else— that’s important. killing you wasn’t for their protection. it was for revenge, ❞ he points out, shaking his head. ❝ and that’s not right. ❞ but why did his mother approve the girlfriend’s execution?

❝ i meant it when i said i am ready and i am honored for this job, ❞ he insists again. ❝ whatever trouble you’re up against, i’m ready to handle it. ❞ maybe it is too big for him, especially as he’s still so new, but he’s not giving up on ronan. felix, dennis— they didn’t give up on him.

i’m not like them — that’s becoming increasingly clear. he’d expected more despair, perhaps an edge of contempt — but silas doesn’t seem to possess either, and ronan meets this unexpected turn with a growing interest. even those soldiers who are fresh-faced and new, eyes wide with some innate sense of pride a uniform can infect you with, seem able to conjure enough venom for ronan and the rest in his caste, vultures feasting greedily on the remnants of society they desperately cling to — a system he knows he benefits from, regardless of the secret he carries; he makes no attempt to fool himself into believing otherwise. but silas seems genuine enough in his proclamation, and ronan can’t seem to parse it — why?

he meets every soldier as an adversary; if they knew the truth, they’d shoot him or turn him in, eager to reap the reward for exposing a rat. he doesn’t believe silas is any different in that respect, despite the puzzling way this introduction has slanted, a direction ronan is uncertain of, a path he hadn’t expected to travel. but maybe there’s opportunity in this. it takes root in ronan’s mind, an undeveloped photograph, for the time being — but there’s some room to probe further immediately. to test him.

“well, i appreciate that.” it’s a commendable sentiment, but he is a prisoner, regardless of how much of a say silas believes he can have on the matter. three of the walls are of his own making; borders defined on his terms, ronan inserting himself just enough into FEDRA’s business, his mother’s, to glean information, but the fourth wall is beyond anyone’s control: it’s the goddamn border of this zone.

(one day, he wants to break free of it — but not until the job is finished.)

“—yeah. that’s what you’re here for.” would he turn on a fellow soldier? the question is one he considers for every new protector his mother assigns. if the worst happened, if he was exposed, would the person intended to defend him do so from FEDRA? it’s hardly a life of luxury they live — but it’s a life. a bed, food, safety within the walls of a zone, all guaranteed so long as they fall in line.

would silas give that up?

he nearly snorts at that — deeming this detail an honor. he doesn’t believe silas, but appreciates the effort; it’s a new approach. rarely do soldiers speak to him like he deserves protection; his predecessors seemed almost disappointed when the day ended and there hadn’t been another attempt on his life.

his hand lifts to his scar again, and, without offering much in way of a response to silas, almost as if he hadn’t heard (but every word is memorized, and ronan can’t help but almost reply, you don’t wanna be friends with me, if you wanna stay alive), he asks instead, “you know what happened to me?” however, he offers no time for silas to answer. “some guy settled for trying to kill me because he couldn’t get to my mom. because my mom approved his girlfriend’s execution. that’s the kind of trouble you might have to deal with.” he drops his hand, shoving it beneath his leg to force himself to stop touching his neck. “you think he was wrong? to be upset with my mother, not about killing me.”

#surviveds #surviveds: ronan.#thread: s. plaskett.#silas: i want to be your friend first bodyguard second. btw #queue.

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blackstarising · 3 years ago

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coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

#ted lasso #sam obisanya #ted lasso spoilers #fandom racism

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thewritetofreespeech · 4 years ago

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Obey Me + Jealousy

prompt: The Demon Brothers don’t like that you’re spending time with your best friend in the human world. Loosely based off this prompt done previously.

Lucifer

It had been a long time since you had been up to the human world. Even longer since you had seen your best friend. You were so excited to see them! Laughing. Telling old inside stories. Catching up on gossip.

Although you were having a great time in the human world, your escort for the day did not seem to be enjoying all your world had to offer.

In order to get ‘top side’ Lucifer had to come with you. He was the only one able to open the portal there and back, and insisted on coming with you to keep you safe. You felt the need to remind him that the Devildom was the actual dangerous place, but it would take longer than just letting him come.

Now you kind of wish you had taken the time to argue. He was really being a major downer the whole day.

“Are you ok? You seem irritated.” Or, well, more irritated than usual.

“No. I’m fine.” Lucifer replied. Although not lending any credibility to the statement. “I’m just thinking of all the more useful things I could be doing with my time.”

You frown at his flip comment. “If you don’t want to be here, then you can leave. No one is making you stay here.”

“Fine. Since you seem so entertained by your little friend to pay any attention to me, perhaps it is best if I do head home.”

You blink a little at Lucifer’s statement. It was cold, and once again flip, as usual. But you were surprised he mentioned your friend. “Lucifer, are you jealous I’m spending time with them?”

The demon rebuttaled with a surprised look before he frowned at you. “I am not jealous.”

“Really? Cause it seems like your-“I am not jealous!” He repeated, louder and sterner this time. He let that moment linger there before he sighed and looked away with his arms cross. “I am….perhaps irritated to be ignored.”

‘Right, so, totally jealous.’ You think to yourself. But have the good sense to keep that thought to yourself alone. You suppose you could see where he was coming from. It’s hard to be the odd man out when you and your friends get together. Being so proud and prominent in the demon world, this is probably the first time it had happened to Lucifer.

“I’m sorry if you’re feeling left out. I’ll try to be more inclusive.”

“No. You’re right.” Lucifer remarked. Finally looking back at you with a much softer expression. “It’s foolish of me to think I can take all of your time. You deserve some moments of your own. I shouldn’t have intruded.” His hand reached out to cup your cheek, while offering you the faintest of smiles. “I will leave, but not because I’m angry. I want you to spend time with your friend and enjoy it, which would be best when I’m not around. Just call me when you’re ready to come home and I’ll come fetch you.” He released your cheek and took a step back. Smiling at you again before he disappeared.

You wonder, briefly, if he could feel your heart swelling with pride after you left. To think a small human like you could make the great Lucifer jealous.

Mammon

There were a lot of things you loved about Mammon.

His spontaneity. His zest for life. How nothing ever seemed to get him down for too long.

However, it was hard to remember all those good qualities when he was behaving so poorly all day.

“Mammon! Can you knock it off?!”

“What?! I’m just standing here. I’m not good enough at standing here for ya now!” The demon barked back. Not matching your whisper tone at all.

“That’s not what I said, and you know it. You’ve been a jerk all day and I’d like you to cut it out.”

“Oh, so now I’m a jerk! Well sorry sweetheart but I’m a demon. We’re not ‘upposed to be nice and friendly all the time. Sometimes we get ta be jerks!”

“Good lord, say it a little bit louder Mammon!” You hiss back at him letting practically the whole world, or at least this park, know he was a demon.

Mammon tsked his teeth and turned away from you. “Can’t do anything right.” He muttered. “Why don’t you go hang out with your friend then, if I’m such a jerk? You two seem ta be having a grand ol’ time on your own with me here. Shouldn’t make much of a difference if I’m gone.” He said before crossing his arms in a huff.

“Is that what this is about?” You ask. Ignoring his little out burst (because when he gets this way it’s just best to ignore him). “You’re mad that I’m spending time with my friend and not you?”

“No!” Yes. Totally yes.

“Mammon are you jealous?”

The demon floundered comically at the question, his mouth opening & closing like a fish as he tried to find words, before he answered. “I am not jealous!!” Great come back. “The Great Mammon does not get jealous! Ya hear! I’m just pissed because you’re spending all this time with them when I’m the one who schlepped all the way up here for ya, and used my connections to get us top side!” He turned away again and recrossed his arms. Then he muttered under his breath, “it was just supposed to be you and me today, for once.”

A sigh left you lips, and you step closer to Mammon to place your hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your plans. I was just excited to see my friend. It’s been so long. Plus I wanted you to meet them so I can show you off. You are my first after all.”

Those blue gold eyes got a little wide, and Mammon blushed, before he gulped once and refocused himself. “Y-Y-Yeah! Of course. Ya should be proud to show me off. It’s not everyone who gets to be seen with an all-powerful demon like me. If anyone is ‘jealous’ it should be everyone else for not having the Great Mammon by their side!”

“Of course,” you agree with a giggle. Before you lean up and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“D-Don’t ya forget it!”

Levi

“Hey, [Y/N]-chan, I think I’m gonna head home.”

You look up from your soda at Levi, who was fidgeting beside you after he spoke. “What? Why? I thought you were having fun.”

“Yeah, no. No I mean….you seem like your having fun with your friend so I don’t want to bother you. 3 is a crowd.”

“Levi, that’s not true. You’re not bothering us. I just wanted to spend sometime with my bff while we’re in town.”

“No. I get it. Who would want to hang out with a crummy otaku like me.”

“Levi, that’s not what I said. I do want to hang out with you!”

“But you have your normie friend.” Levi looked past you at the friend in question. “Look at them. Being out, talking to people like a regular person. I can never do that. You should go on without me and leave me here. You seem much happier with them anyway.”

“Levi…come on. That isn’t—” Your train of thought stops itself as it came to a sudden, and abrupt realization. “Levi, are you jealous?”

The blue haired demon responded with his trademark ‘eehhh??’ at the question, and quickly covered his face with is arm. “O-O-Of course not!” He exclaimed. Barely hiding the blush on his cheeks. “Who would be jealous of a normie?? I just I…I mean you…Y-You seem so happy with them [Y/N]-chan. A sad otaku like me can never make you that happy. So it’s just bumming me out!”

You offer Levi a soft smile, then move to squat down in front of him. “True. I am happy when I hang out with my friends. But I’m happy when I hang out with you too. No one can gush about anime with me like you can.” You reassure him. He was the Avatar of Envy after all. What did you expect?

The demon slowly poked his head out from under his arm. “Really?”

“Of course. It’s…not really a side of myself I get to show to people. They think I’m weird. But with you, I can be that part of myself. That’s the part that you have Levi.”

His face turned bright red all over again, and Levi sat there for a moment before he quickly shook his head. “D-Don’t say stuff like that [Y/N]-chan! Don’t make me fall for your normie trap!”

You giggle and stand up again to offer Levi your hand. “Come on. Lets find something we can all do together. The Cineplex is playing some old action movies we can go and make fun of.”

“Oooo! Which ones??”

The distraction of old movies to riff on, and for Levi to share all his in-depth knowledge on, was a welcome alternative for the afternoon. He even had a spirited debate with your best friend on the concepts of CGI graphics vs old school ‘cut & paste’ cinematography. Crisis on planet Earth avoided.

Satan

It was always fun to come back to the human world. Especially with Satan.

Not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with the others, but most of them could be a little....energetic. It was nice to spend a calm afternoon with the 4th brother alone for a change.

You both had stopped in a local coffee shop you loved when you ran into an old friend. You hadn't seen them in so long that you got to talking and eventually invited them to join your table. Where you had been laughing and having a grand time for a while now.

Or so you thought.

Satan hadn’t said a word the whole time you were at the table. Which was necessarily odd. He wasn’t a big talker like some of his brothers. However, you could tell that something was wrong with the way he kept stirring his cup, or how his jaw clenched ever now and then before releasing. His movements subtle, as always.

“I’m gonna get another cup. You want anything?” Your friend asked as they got up from the table, to which both of you motioned no.

“Can we go now.” Your head turned back to Satan at his cool words. “We were supposed to go to the bookstore.”

“We still have time to go to the bookstore.” You tell him. “It doesn’t close until a while from now.”

“Yes. But we agreed to be there at 1:00, and now it’s 1:30. That’s not the way this day was supposed to go.” The blonde replied. Fidgeting with his cup to try and align it perfectly on the saucer. “This day was supposed to be just you and I.”

You blink a little at Satan’s response. Initially thinking that he was miffed about the time. Now, however, you weren’t so sure. “Satan, are you jealous that I paused our date to hang out with my friend?”

The demon sat up straighter; though how you could be sure. Then he frowned. “I am not jealous.”

“No. I get it. It’s hard to be in a group if they have a lot of inside jokes. It’s ok if--“I am not jealous!” He shout. His fist slamming on the table, rattling the frail wood and cups. Alerting everyone in the shop to your conversation.

Satan hissed through his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Fine. I am jealous. We so rarely get time away from those idiots, and I was really looking forward to the bookstore with you. Now you have someone else tagging along. Is it so awful to be alone with me?”

Your heart sank a little at that. Was that really how Satan felt? “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to catch up with my friend for a bit since I haven’t seen them in a while. I didn’t mean to disrupt our date.” The demon blinked a few times at the word ‘date’ then blushed. Muttering about how it wasn’t like that, that he was being unreasonable, that it was all fine. Still, you smile and offer to him, “let me tell them goodbye and we’ll go to the bookstore. If we leave now, we can also stop by the pet store and play with the cats if you’d like.”

Satan fidgeted in his chair. Cheek’s still a stark pink against his blonde hair. “I....would like that.”

Asmo

It was a beautiful day in the human world, and you were so excited to be home.

Being able to spend the day in your home town, with your best friend, shopping and just playing around was the best way to spend an afternoon. Who could be sad at a day like this?

“[Y/NNNNNNNN],” Asmo whined. The usually bubbly demon dragging his shopping bags behind him as he pouted behind you. “Can’t we stop for now”

“Really Asmo? You’re usually much more of a marathon shopper.”

“It’s too hot.” He quipped back. Now with more of a frown than a pout. “This humidity is wreaking havoc on my hair.”

“Why don’t I get us something cool to drink?” Your BFF suggested. Trying to stay positive all afternoon, and pretending that they didn’t hear Asmo’s bitter ‘yeah why don’t you do that’ as they took off and he sat down.

“Asmodeus,” you hiss when you were alone. “Who can you be so rude to them? What is wrong with you today?!”

“It’s not my fault!” Asmo snapped back. Looking wounded but also scratching at his chest where his pact mark was to let you know that he knew he messed up. “This was supposed to be a day for you and me! They’re the one that but in!”

“No. You did. I told you I was going top side for a while to hang out with my friend, and you invited yourself along. So now you’re ruining everyone’s day with this behavior. I really don’t get you.”

Asmo stopped scratching at his chest and pouted for real this time.

“I don’t like seeing you with them.” He confessed. “I don’t like seeing you with anyone. Your smile….it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I wanted to come along with you today because I wanted to see your smile. But seeing you happy with someone else is the worst! I don’t even care about any of this anymore. Not even my new shoes.” His foot kicked at his bag sullenly. Asmo must really be upset. “I want to go home and forget all about the human world. I want you to come home with me!”

You listen for a while before you make a confession of your own. “You’re jealous, aren’t you.” It was plain as day now. Or at least now that you realized he wasn’t just being a brat to be a brat.

Asmo turned and glared at you slightly. “Green is not my color.” He insisted before turning away in a huff.

You chuckle, then sit down beside him on the bench. “I think you look good in any color.” You tell him. Softening the demon up. “You know I care about you Asmo. But me being with my friends doesn’t mean I care about you any less. And that’s no reason to be so ugly to them. You need to apologize.”

The demon winced at the word ‘ugly’, but did seem to agree that he needed to turn this around.

When your friend came back, he quickly apologized. Blaming jet lag, or some other ridiculous believable excuse. It didn’t really matter when he turned on the charm. Gods help him if he ever set his mind to something.

Beel

He was stress eating. You could tell.

Although Beel was still shoveling food into his mouth with his usual speed and gusto, by now you could tell the difference in his eating habits. Like when he was just bored and there was food around, or when he was really hungry for something, or when he was excited to try something new. Right now, he wasn’t enjoying what he was eating. Even when he was bored or just eating to eat, Beel always seemed to enjoy it. Even if it was just a vending machine’s worth of junk.

Right now it just looked like he was doing it to take his mind off something.

“Beel? Is something wrong?” You ask softly. Still getting his attention though, and causing him to stop.

“No. Nothing ’s wrong.” He replied. His voice unusually sullen as he wiped his mouth. You knew something was wrong now. He never sounded said when he was eating. Now something was double wrong because he was lying to you.

“Beel….”

“…I don’t like your friend…” He finally confessed after a moment and long bout of staring.

You blink in surprise at his answer. Not expecting that at all. You’ve never heard Beel say a mean word about anyone before. Let alone not liking a person. “You don’t like my friend? Why? Did they do something wrong?”

“It’s not that. I just….don’t like how you are when you’re with them.” He said. Picking at the various candy wrappers he’d left littered on the table. “You seem happy.”

“Of course I’m happy. They’re my friend. I haven’t seen them in a long time, so I miss them.”

Beel flinched a little. “I know….” He seemed to be feeling bad about this now. “And I want you to be happy. I know the human world is your first home. But I’m scared that….if you like it here so much and them, that you’ll leave us again. When you’re not around it’s like this big whole in my stomach and I can’t fill it up.” His stomach growled in protest, or agreement, at his words, and Beel went back to stress eating his vending machine contents again.

Your gaze softened as you finally understood. He was jealous. He thought your friend was going to ‘take you away’ and leave him alone. That of course was silly because you’d never leave him, or the others, ever if you could help it.

You reach out your hand to stop his arm from lifting another fist full of chips to his mouth. Causing him to pause, with his mouth open, and look at you. “All this junk can’t be good for you.” You announce as you stop up from the park table suddenly. “Why don’t I take you to my favorite restaurant in town? My friend used to work there, so I’m sure we’ll get a great table and lots of yummy stuff on the house if we go.”

Beel’s eyes sparkled at the proposition. “Really??”

You giggle. The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach you suppose. Because after this, and a few unlimited fry baskets later, he and your friend were besties for life as well.

Belphie

"[Y/N], I wanna go home."

"Home?" You ask. "But we just got here." You’d only arrived at the park to meet your friend a few hours ago, and had only just started hanging out.

"Well I'm tired.” Belphie muttered.

“Aren’t you always kind of tired?” You ask, as a joke, but it doesn’t seem well received.

Belphie’s frown deepens, and he even lets out an annoyed little growl, before he turns on his heels to walk away. “Belphie! Where are you going?”

“You nap under that tree.” He announced. But doesn’t seem as thrilled as he normally is about the prospect. Napping under trees was like his third favorite nap spot. “You won’t let me go home, so I’m just going to stay there while you hang out with your friend. You won’t miss me anyway.”

The last part of his statement was muttered under his breath, but you still heard it. Was that what he was being so moody about?

“Belphie? Are you jealous I’m hanging out with my friend?”

“Yes.” He replied. Rather quickly considering, with only a moment to scuff the tip of his shoes. “I don’t like that you’re spending time with them and not me. I don’t like being ignored.”

“I’m not ‘ignoring you’.” You tell him. “I’m just hanging out with my friend for a while. I haven’t seen them in a long time. They’ve probably been lonely too.”

Belphegor huffed again and sagged his shoulders. You know you got him.

Belphie might be kind of selfish sometimes, but there was one thing he could empathize with: being alone. He was cast aside and locked out, partially of his own doing, for a long time. So he didn’t want anyone else to feel that way.

“I just don’t like the idea that you like them better than me.”

“I don’t.” You assure him. Stepping in to give him a peck on the cheek, which he adorably flinches at. “I love you both. Differently, but equal. Why don’t we think of something we can all do together then, hm?”

“I’m kind of committed to this nap-tree-idea-thing.” The demon confessed. You have to giggle.

You all don’t nap, but your friend agree to get some ice creams from a vendor in the park and sit under the tree to enjoy them while Belphie napped. It was a remarkably pleasant afternoon. You were glad you got to share it with Belphie.

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sage-nebula · 4 years ago

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I don’t have time to type up a proper and polished meta post right now (because, much like Retsuko, I have work in the morning), but I wanted to say a couple things about the Haida/Retsuko relationship as depicted in season three while it’s still fresh in my mind.

First:

Haida falling for Retsuko when he saw her sneakily filling her water bottles from the company cooler shows that he does like her for who she actually is.

A recurring theme since the end of season one has been that Haida doesn’t know the “real” Retsuko, and that he primarily likes the image of Retsuko that he’s built up in his head. He says this to her in the hospital room at the end of season one, and it was touched upon again and again this season, particularly once Haida discovered that Retsuko was secretly in an idol group and hadn’t told him about it. At the office, Retsuko presents herself as a diligent, passive office worker who lets herself be pushed around by her boss and others. She’s sweet and polite, and a bit shy. This seems to be the Retsuko that Haida fell for.

But in the scene when he’s drinking with Fenneko, we find out that’s not the case. Haida tells Fenneko that he at first thought that Retsuko was too hard-working, which (given the context of the water cooler story) makes it seem as though the front that Retsuko puts on—diligent, sweet, shy, model employee—wasn’t attractive to Haida. It isn’t until he witnessed Retsuko “stealing” water from the company water cooler while trying to be sneaky about it that he started to develop feelings for her. In that moment, Retsuko thought she was alone, so she behaved in a way she ordinarily wouldn’t in front of her coworkers. She behaved in a way that was raw, that was honest to who she was, and that was who Haida started to develop feelings for. He started to develop feelings for the Retsuko he saw when she thought no one else was around. Haida hasn’t seen that side of Retsuko too often, because she hasn’t let him, but it’s safe to say that Haida won’t stop having feelings for her when he gets to know her even more. Rather, he’ll love her even more strongly.

Which brings me to point two . . .

Haida brought her to the karaoke room because he wanted to give her room to express herself honestly.

I haven’t looked at The Discourse™ too deeply yet, and frankly I don’t really want to, but what glimpses I’ve seen of it have indicated that people are upset at Haida for dragging Retsuko out of her mom’s house and having a heavy metal face off with her in order to get her to stop hiding and return to work, with him to be there by her side to protect her. As someone with a bad anxiety disorder who has had brushes with stalking in the past (though thankfully I wasn’t attacked like Retsuko was), I definitely agreed with Retsuko when she pushed back against Haida and I can see where others are coming from when they say that he came on too strong the way he did, that it was too much, too soon.

However:

We don’t know how long it’s been since the incident. When Fenneko said that Haida has been pining after Retsuko for five years, I was shocked. The three seasons combined certainly don’t feel like that long, and I’m sure that this is meant to mean that he’s been pining for her even before the show started (which tracks), but it’s a good reminder that time can pass far more quickly in Aggretsuko than we’d expect. For us that stalking incident just happened, but for all we know Retsuko has been holed up in her parents’ house for months. I would like to give Haida the benefit of the doubt that he didn’t yank Retsuko out of her mother’s house two days after the incident. I mean, we don’t know for sure, so maybe that is what happened, but I just feel like it’s been quite a bit longer for that, especially for Gori and Washimi to go along like they did (because you know they wouldn’t let anything happen that would hurt Retsuko).

Retsuko is never honest with Haida, so he pushed her to get that honesty. Haida says it himself when talking to Tadano in the plane: No matter how many times he asks Retsuko how she is, she always says that she’s fine and refuses to open up to him. And you know, that is her prerogative, she doesn’t have to tell him things if she doesn’t want to. However, this explains why Haida took her to a place where he knew she would be able to express herself (something that Gori and Washimi likely confirmed): Because he wants to be able to help her, but he can’t do that if she won’t be honest with him about how she’s feeling. If you’ll notice, most of what Haida says in the karaoke room isn’t about him wanting Retsuko to be his girlfriend (in fact, he doesn’t really bring it up beyond showing the match results; instead he says he wants to offer her safe harbor, wants to make her feel comfortable living her life again, and that doesn’t have to be romantic); rather, it’s about encouraging Retsuko to open up and live her life again instead of shutting herself away, and we can take this to be both metaphorical and literal. It’s also worth it to note that Haida didn’t grow angry when Retsuko started snapping and screaming at him; rather, he took it in stride and even encouraged that, pushing her with heavy metal lyrics of his own. Retsuko won’t open up to Haida in ordinary circumstances, or at least she hasn’t, so he took her to the one place where she would be able to literally scream at him if necessary, because if that’s what she needs to open up and get everything off her chest, so be it.

Retsuko does need to start living her life again. Look, what happened to Retsuko is absolutely terrifying. I get it. I’ve lived it (though again, not quite to that extent). But as terrifying as it is, she can’t put her life on pause forever. Eventually, she has to get back out there. She has to go back to work (not necessarily at the same company, but somewhere). She has to be able to go out again. She has to be able to feel safe in her own home again. Yes, she feels safe at her parents’ house, but as a person, Retsuko won’t be happy if she stays holed up in her parents’ house forever. It’s completely understandable that she takes some time to deal with what happened with her. But eventually, self-care in that sense becomes self-harm. Part of the healing process is going back out into the world and learning to feel safe in those spaces again. And doing so is monumentally easier with someone by your side who is there to offer you that support. Haida taking Retsuko’s hand and telling her that he will punch the world with her—a.k.a., it’s not Retsuko versus the world, she’s not alone, she has an ally—is Haida offering her the support she needs. He’s not saying, “Get back to work!” and throwing her into the deep end of the pool by herself. He’s taking her hand and saying he’ll walk into the water with her. And that’s something that she honestly needs. Retsuko can’t heal completely if she stays in her childhood bedroom all day every day, hiding from the world. She has to get back out there and face it. Haida is offering her the helping hand she needs to do that. While the way he offered it is unconventional, so is Retsuko herself. That she was able to go back to work after that scene with him shows that it was the help that Retsuko needed, even if it wasn’t the help that she (at the time) wanted.

Just like the ending of season one, whether Retsuko and Haida are dating right now is ambiguous. Personally, I don’t think they are. Again, though Haida showed her the dating app results, what he was really offering in the karaoke room was a supportive hand to help her feel safe out in the world again. Plus, Retsuko didn’t say anything in the karaoke room that suggested she wanted to date him. So I think that, in season four, we’ll open with them still just friends—but closer friends than before. And perhaps by the end of season four, they’ll end up dating.

But either way, the main takeaways here are:

Haida does like Retsuko for who she is, she’s just let him see very little of her true self, and

While unconventional, what Haida did in the karaoke room was ultimately what was best for Retsuko, especially since they never tell us how much time has passed since the attack and the scene in the karaoke room (meaning that it’s likely much longer than it seems to us, the viewers).

#aggretsuko #aggretsuko spoilers #haida #retsuko #meta #also Haida literally saved her life so I'm p sure she has good reason to believe him #when he says he'll help her be safe #like idk i'd trust the dude who saved me from being murdered #maybe that's just me tho

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angelguk · 4 years ago

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dedicated to the lovely @himboksj happy (very late almost criminally late) bday present! so whew... there’s a lot happening in this one! return of jock!jk and his wonderful girl oc now featuring!!: squirting, creampie, oral (fem receiving), mild choking, biting, boobs in face!!, anime tiddy mentions, praise kink galore, multiple orgasms, the use of a vibrator, jaykay is sick actually, over-stimulation, mild spit kink, dommish!jk, (redacted) pet name, mentions (and watching) of porn, everybody is in love and horny, crying cause the dick too good, fingering but not really. 5k of words that should have never left my brain. listen to continuum & nothing without you by tanerelle (kindly check masterlist for the pretty boy drabble mini masterlist if you want to read the rest of this au!)

Jeongguk didn’t mean to go snooping through your things. It was 100% accidental. He just remembered that you kept some athletic tape in your drawers because Jeongguk usually needed to wrap his knee or ankle after practice and you ensured that he always had some near (in case he came crashing at yours instead of going back to his dorm after Coach brutalised him during drills). And, anyway, you were at a point in your relationship where Jeongguk didn’t necessarily feel the need to outright ask you if he could poke around your drawers. Of course, he respected your space, but it’s not like he wasn’t nosy when you were best friends. You were in the shower too, he didn’t want to bang on the door and ask where you kept the tape.

Imagine his surprise when he reached the final drawer in your dresser, idly rummaging around for the blue athletic tape he knows is buried somewhere, and his fingers latch around a silky cloth instead. He knew what it was immediately, the shape a dead give-away. A discreet bullet vibrator, stuffed under your unnecessarily large collection of fluffy winter socks. Perhaps he stopped breathing, the twitch in his loose workout shorts undeniable. He’s not surprised that you own one and yet, his brain can’t fathom you using it. Even now, Jeongguk’s still growing used to seeing you come undone around his length, the feeling of your walls tight on his cock as your mumble his name. It drives him mad. He’s seen you in every kind of state; sobbing hysterically, laughing until tears slip from your pretty eyes, stumbling drunk in the streets, eyebrows furrowed with anger at him, that soft tiny grin you grant him on good days, the pout your lips settle into when you don’t get your way. He never fathomed he’d ever see you in that way, skin flushed with heat, eyes cloudy with ecstasy, your heat pressed against his own. He finds new ways to fall in love with you every day but it reaches new heights when he’s deep inside of you. Maybe he’s mildly obsessed with seeing you unravel, but that’s a secret he keeps to himself.

He does take a peek at your toy though, a soft velvet-like purple vibrator. It’s cute actually, something you would definitely purchase. But then the sound of water hitting the shower tiles slows down and Jeongguk swiftly tucks the toy back into your drawers.

“Oh?” You say when you open the door to him standing stiff in your room. The steam from the shower wraps around your figure in gentle wisps, sunlight filtering in from the window behind you, the image of an innocent angel appearing right before his eyes. “You’re here.”

“Practise ended early,” Jeongguk returns, his gaze trailing the droplets of water that slip down your skin. You smell good, just like that vanilla and peach shower gel that you dearly love. And the towel hiding your body is loose. It’s not his fault that he’s hard in his pants. When he moves to hug you, your face contorts, a downward tug at your lips that Jeongguk longs to change with a kiss.

“I’m wet,” you whine, brushing past him. “Go shower, you always stink after practise.”

He huffs, strong arms catching your fleeing figure and quickly wrapping you into his chest. “No. Don’t want to. I missed you and you can’t even hug me? You’re so mean to me.”

“Guk-” Jeongguk cuts that complaint with his face in your neck, lips colouring your skin rouge with a kiss that intends to leave a mark. “You can’t,” you mumble, but your fingers settle on the nape of his neck, tangling in the growing strands of his hair. “I have to get to work soon.”

“It won’t take long,” Jeongguk returns, feathering kisses across your skin as he nudges you to the bed. “I promise. Let me do this, I’ve missed you, bunny.”

Your towel is discarded somewhere in the amble to your sheets, your thighs wrapped around Jeongguk’s face a second later. He watches your body carefully, teasing your clit with purpose before he allows himself to slip his tongue deep. He notes the twitches in your thighs, the way your buck your hips against his face. He ignores his desire, for the time being, nose buried at the apex of your cunt, tongue covered in your slick, his lips latched on your clit. You like it fast, purposeful sharp flicks that make you squirm until Jeongguk has to pin your hips down, the lave on your heat brutal. His brain can’t help but wonder how you’d behave with your toy grazing your clit and his cock burrowed deep. You’re so sensitive, response to even the softest kiss he lays on your cunt. Would you be wetter than this? You’re already dripping down his face, his mouth glistening with your desire. But he wants to see if you can do more than this, squirm more than this, make a bigger mess than this. The thought surfaces as he feels your body lock, the tension in your limbs drawn high as your hands reach for his. You cum on his face with your fingers intertwined, his name falling from your lips as the afternoon sunlight hits your skin. It’s then and there that Jeongguk decides, with his mouth wet from your release, he’s going to see you squirt one day. For him and him alone.

He waits for the moment to naturally strike, silently scheming wicked thoughts every time you crawl into his sheets. It happens one evening, an empty bottle of wine at the foot of your bed and hentai porn playing brazenly on his laptop screen. Somewhere between downing the bottle and cuddling in his sheets Jeongguk had mentioned an uncanny resemblance between your gigantic chest and the anime boobies he’d grown fond of since his introduction to hentai. You’d immediately dismissed him, whacking him hard on the head and then Jeongguk had to prove it to you, opening his favourite website and pulling up a video that had your jaw-dropping.

“Your boobs do that, you know,” he says. Which grants him a sharp kick to the shin.

“Jeongguk, what is wrong with you?” He can tell you’re not annoyed, but there’s a lilt in your voice that makes him pause, doe eyes flicking to your face. You may be kicking him under the blankets but your eyes are stuck to the video, a distance glaze colouring your gaze. He can tell by the way your thighs draw together that you’re not as averse to this as you pretend to be.

“Turn it off,” you mumble.

“Why? I can tell that you like it.”

“Jeon, I’m not joking.” There’s a glare paired with that sentence, but he reads right through it.

“Fine,” Jeongguk offers, fingers already typing what’s been on his mind since the day he discovered your vibrator.

“What are you—oh.”

There’s a quiet lull. He clicks on a video that’s more familiar to him than he’ll ever willingly admit out loud. It starts the way Jeongguk prefers it to, with a man on his knees, his head buried between the thighs of a girl.

“What are you doing, Guk?” A warning. A question. Jeongguk is not sure what you mean by that and he’s too hesitant to take a look at your face to decipher the tone in your voice just yet. He takes the jump instead, hoping you don’t mind the fantasies of his mind.

“Have you ever squirted?” Somewhere between the exchange of words in Jeongguk's room, the man on his laptop screen slipped two fingers into the girl. It doesn’t help that your boobs are falling right out of your loose camisole, resting right on his bare arm.

“Jeongguk,” you return. “Answer my question.”

“Answer mine first,” he looks at you then, trying hard to read your eyes. There’s no heat in your face, just an innocence that colours your features. Wide eyes, your legs draw together, a hard swallow that he sees in the low lights that illuminate the room.

“No,” you say, bottom lip caught between your teeth. “So why are you showing me squirting porn?”

It’s then that Jeongguk realises he wants to ruin you. As horribly cliché as it sounds, he longs for that. And the urge for it doubles when your gaze falters, flicking quickly for the screen before drifting back to his. The couple is still fucking on his screen, hard quick loud thrusts that travel to the pit in his stomach fast. He’s hard in his briefs, a painful throb ebbing through his length when your hand drops to his chest.

“Guk?”

He shuts the laptop, the moans cut off, a heated silence taking its place. The bed feels too big when he gets up, ignoring the confused look you give him.

The vibrator is exactly where he left it, oddly comforting because it means you don’t use it. You have him after all. But he needs the toy for tonight.

“What? Guk? What’s go—when did you find that?” You’re embarrassed, he knows it from the way you squirm under the blanket. He glances down at it, finger pressing the switch that turns it on. A quick run through shows ten decent vibrators at different levels, it’s rather intense even in his hands, the low buzz that it emits filling the room forbidding before he shuts it off.

“A couple of weeks ago,” he says. You groan, your head dropping into your hands.

“Put it away, Guk! And don’t go through my stuff ever again.”

“Why? I think it’s cute.”

“Cu—what is the point of this, Jeongguk? I don’t get what you’re trying to do?” And there you go, staring at him with those wide ingenuous eyes. So trusting, so clueless. He draws closer then, considers taking his underwear off so you can see just what you do to him. But when your gaze drops he halts. It’s not about him tonight. It’s about you.

The bed dips under the weight of his as he says it, the toy still in his hands. “I want to see if you can squirt.” He sees the way your back stiffens, the raise in your brow.

“I’ve never done that,” you splutter, falling back as Jeongguk crawls over you.

“I know. But you can.”

“I can’t, Guk. I don’t think I can.” Your pretty lips are drawn into a reluctant pout, but there’s a bright curiosity sparking through your gaze that Jeongguk knows all too well.

“See, you don’t think you can. You said that before. And then I made you cum five times in a row.”

“No that was different—”

“We’re just seeing if you can. We don’t have to if you don’t want to but I think it’d be fun to try.”

You pause, trying to ignore the heat blooming between your legs as you weigh the decision before you. There were times when you thought you were about to, an edge in your orgasms that felt dangerous. But your body never let you go there fully, drawing back from your slipped from heights you couldn’t handle. You can tell Jeongguk won’t grant you the same precautions. His eyes a dark, toeing a line that feels forbidding. The covers are gently pulled from you, Jeongguk staying silent as you ponder. But the moment the cool night air hits your skin you know what he’s asking for. It’s a strange level of vulnerability, a bareness that makes your skin prickle. He wants something that you’ve never given anyway else — not even yourself. It’s a lot to ask for and his directness makes you pause. The hesitation crumbles when his hand settles on your thigh, wide warm palm gently nudging your clasped legs apart.

“We really don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Jeongguk says, honey eyes locked on you. You know he’s being honest; he wouldn’t push it if you said no. And yet, something twists in your stomach. You want this. The realisation is sudden and you don’t know if it’s because of how perfect Jeongguk looks tonight. Chestnut curls a messy halo on his head and his shirt hanging loose from his broad shoulders. Or maybe it’s how he looks at you as if this is the only he’s ever really wanted in the world. As if you’re the only thing he’s ever really wanted.

“I want to—I mean I want to try.” You let yourself fall open then, something clicking as Jeongguk slots right against you perfectly, your sleeping shorts bunching up when his hips roll with intent. His lips land on your neck a moment later, a kiss so soft that you don’t feel it at first, lost in the way he hits your clit when he bucks into you. Jeongguk draws you back with a bite, one sharp enough to leave you gasping, your back arching from the sheets. He lets his hands slip under then, the vibrator momentarily forgotten as he maps your skin, lips feather-light once more, kisses gentle enough to leave you delirious.

“So good to me,” Jeongguk mumbles, eyes drifting to your lips. He draws close then, mouth fitting yours in a dreamlike perfectness. It’s flavoured with wine and want, a clear hunger in how he parts your lips. The hands that grip you are hard but his lips are gentle, savouring the taste of you against his mouth as if he wants to commit it to memory. The softness of the act has your skin tingling, bright and wild yet slow like the turning of the Sun. When you part, the air is different — charged, the current that swims through the atmosphere finding a home in your body as it settles in the depth of your gut. Jeongguk doesn’t give you time to ponder, mouth trailing from the corner of your lips to the hollow of your neck where he bites. It hurts enough to shock your senses, sweeping you back from the heavenly haze to the alarming reality of what he’s about to do to you. Your whimper hits the air as his tongue presses into the mark, painting your skin dark. A pointed reminder. You’d thought Jeongguk would be possessive, but sometimes he surprises you with it. The purposeful touches, the harsh bruises he likes to leave high on your neck. Or anywhere on your body, really. There are times he’d press his fingertips into them when you’re willing enough to let him choke you, the flash in your eyes spurring his hips forward.

For now, he busies himself with breathing a new one to life, one you know he’ll play with tomorrow — or later tonight if you give him the chance. Your brain can’t think that fair, zoning out as his mouth works a claim on your skin. Eager fingertips are drifting down your thighs, brushing past the band of your sleeping shorts. It’s expected that you’re already wet, but Jeongguk delights in his find with a muted moan in your neck. His fingers don’t go further though, grazing light against the damp fabric of your underwear. The swivel of your hips is automatic but Jeongguk quickly stills it with a hard press of his palm into your skin. You’re forced into the mattress, freezing when he finally wanders from your neck to your chest. So slow, wet lips idly trailing until his face lands between your chest.

“Gukkie,” you hadn’t realised how gone you already sounded until you spoke, voice wavering. He hums in response, non-committal, his hands shifting from your hips as he focuses on freeing you from your top so he can get your boobs in his mouth.

“Don’t tease me today.” You’re trying to sound firm, pliantly raising your arms so he can get you bare. But that firmness shrinks when your eyes land on his. So dark in the dwindling moonlight bleeding through your half-open blinds.

“Why?” There’s that smile of his, one corner hung higher than the either. You’ve sunk yourself in a sea brimming with sharks. “You sound cute when you whine, bunny.”

“Jeong — fuck.” There’s no point in protesting when he’s buried himself between your chest, tongue already toying with your nipple. Too many guys before him had misunderstood how to touch you there, but Jeongguk knew — he had learned. Studied your body so that he knows when to nip or kiss, shifting from pain to pleasure until the line blurred and so did your vision, until the only sound filling the room are harsh breaths and the quiet murmur of his name. Your hands eventually stray to his head, the heat in your core demanding attention as you guide him down. Jeongguk complies, not because he doesn’t want to tease you any further, but because he loves tasting you too much to ever say no.

The sight he finds sends an ache down his length, already hard but now leaking into the fabric of his grey sweats. You spread yourself so easily for him, light pink panties coloured dark with your wetness.

“Cute,” Jeongguk whispers, falling naturally into his place between your legs. It wasn’t meant to grace the air, but he’s glad it did when he notes the bashful smile tugging at your lips and how you twist to shift your head into the pillows the closer he gets. Which, honestly, makes him pause. He wants you to watch, needs you to. Something in the base of his brain needing constant affirmation that he’s making you feel good driving his next set of movements.

The hand on your chin is unexpected and adamant. You can’t help but give in, wide-eyed when Jeongguk forces your gaze onto him. “Need you to look bunny, can you do that for me?” The nod you give him is instinctual, heat blossoming in your bones when Jeongguk smiles, satiated and proud. Perhaps you should have put up more of a fight, but how could have known what he would do with only the tender touches he’d lift as your guide. Even the quick kiss he plants on your clothed cunt revealed nothing of what’s to come. So gentle as he pulls he fabric down your hips, discarding it somewhere in the sheets, his eyes never leaving the wetness on your lips.

“My pretty girl,” he says, nipping the inside of your thigh. You squirm at that, futile because Jeongguk just held you closer. “All mine, right bunny?”

“All yours,” you return, voice far and your mind slipping from your hands. Jeongguk apparently takes that to heart because he devours you, nose burrowed in the apex of your cunt, breathing you in as his tongue mapped the velvet of your walls. It doesn’t take long for your legs to wrap around his head, back raising from the bed and the drip of your slick coating your inner thighs. Yet, Jeongguk relishes it, forgoing breathing as he eats you open, toying with your clit as if that was his sole life purpose. You forget the world with a speed that should concern you, thighs trembling with each determined swirl of his tongue over that bud. Again and again, until you spill into his mouth, wet and creamy, creating a mark of your own on his lips. He keeps you there, unrelenting even when your whines hit high and your chest heaves. There’s a ringing in your ears as the high wanes away, which is swiftly placed by a quiet mumbling that sinks into your skin.

“Tastes so good,” Jeongguk murmurs, licking between your folds. “So fucking good.”

“Jeon,” Something twists in your gut when he drops a final kiss onto you as if he was thanking you for letting him do that when you should be the one on your knees thanking him. When he softly drops your leg to the soiled sheets you decide it quickly, already shifting onto your elbows.

“Yes?” Such innocent eyes staring back at you like he didn’t just fuck you open with his tongue.

“I want you too,” you’re already shifting but Jeongguk is quick, fingertips hard on your jaw when he halts you. He knows what that means, reads it in how your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, wet just like you were. But that’s not what he wants, besides, he’d rather save that for other places.

“No.” When he says that you almost deflate, but then Jeongguk drops his hand from your jaw, swiftly dragging his shirt over his back and off his body. There’s nothing that can suffocate the desire that blooms in your chest. He’s so beautiful, hard lines and warm skin, kissed by the Sun herself. There’s an itch in your palm instantly, and you hastily register that if you don’t touch him you might die. Yet, your eager hands are pinned over your head, wrists wrapped tightly in the grip of one of his wide calloused palms. There’s a brief moment where his attention is caught by the bounce of your chest before you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the fact that you’ve never asked Jeongguk to fuck your tits before. But as you stow that away for later concern, Jeongguk’s other hand drifts to the discarded vibrator, sinister now in his command.

“Don’t want to fuck your mouth, bunny. It’s not about me tonight, it’s about you.”

“But—” Jeongguk swallows that protest with a quick kiss, the taste of you on his tongue igniting a fire that crackles and consumes until you feel nothing but heat and want, all fuelled by your erratic lovesick heart. You kiss until the only thing filling your lungs is him, like a heavy smoke that envelopes you, travelling through your body until you pull away, warm chest flushed against his. There’s a stupid twinkle in his eyes and it makes you feel sick, swaying dangerously when he shifts away. You don’t want him to go, but you don’t move when he gives you that look. The devastating ache dissipates when his pants drop from his hips, hard cock meeting the cool air. The twitch that travels down his length echoes between your walls, eagerly clenching around nothing. Jeongguk just smiles, stripping bare leaving himself vulnerable to your eager eyes. You wait, behaving good because you want to for him and Jeongguk notes this, delivering a pleased slap to your cunt when he pulls you close, one hard enough to jolt through your spine when his palm hits your clit.

“I’m kind of sensitive,” you whisper, shy again. Which is funny because weren’t you begging for his cock down your throat a second ago?

“I know,” Jeongguk returns, uncaring. The vibrator comes to life a moment later, buzzing low through the room. He knocks it up to the second-highest level.

“Jeongguk! Start low then work it up. I can’t take it like that directly, it'll chafe me.” Which is right, your clit is already feeling dry, slick staying solely between your walls. Jeongguk notes that, pausing before sinking two of his fingers deep. You squeak, hips lifting when they brush against that spot in your walls. He works you open deftly, pleased when you grind your hips into his hands, spurred on by the feeling of something finally inside of you. But it’s fleeting, Jeongguk dragging his fingers out and over your clit before raising his fingers to his lips and licking them clean.

“Now it won’t,” he states, and before you can open your mouth and deliver a retort the vibrator is pressing against that bundle of nerves, tremors echoing in your bones as your legs squeeze shut in an attempt to get away. Jeongguk pins them open, cock leaking against your thigh and he rolls the edge of the toy over your clit, before you jolt so hard the sheets shift and he knows exactly where to place it. He works it out of you, praise naturally falling from his petal lips when you give in, eyes shut tight and your heart stuck in your throat. The vibration feeds the heat in your gut, drawing it to the surface of your skin, sweat beading along your forehead and a dampness forming down your spine. It feels both quick and slow, coaxed out of you with steadfastness. Jeongguk’s gaze never strays from your pussy, locked there as he etches this moment into his memory. You look gorgeous, whining and twisting underneath him. He can tell that this is a lot for you, judging from how you bury your face away from him. He would have forced your eyes on him, if he wasn’t already so enthralled by how perfect you look like this, moans low colouring the air bright with their sound. His own want multiples when your body freezes, strung tight, the edge beckoning you over.

He pulls the vibrator off then, depriving you of your release because his brain demands that he feels this one around his length.

“Jeongguk!” You’re on your elbows, eyebrows furrowed together in frustration. “Why-w-why would you do that?” There’s a waver in your tone, a lilt so pretty he can’t help but smile.

“When you squirt you’re doing it on my cock.” He states it like it's final. And it is from how he draws you close, vibrator momentarily lost in the sheets, the head of his length brushing against your wetness.

But what catches your attention is when. A loaded promise. A determined one.

You spread your legs open, shifting until he slips past walls stretching to accommodate his welcoming presence. “Okay then, make me.” You say it with your gaze on his, watching as his eyes glaze over hips already bucking deeper, before your words register in his brain and Jeongguk’s gaze shifts into a dangerous glint.

He tugs you hard, pulling close enough so that he sinks in deep, cunt already moulding to the curves of his cock. “With pleasure.” Those words are warning, painted right into the heat of your skin as he sheathes himself inside of you. The groans in the air belong to both of you melting into one distinctive sound. It’s cut by the lewd squelch of your wetness coating his length, one that settles in Jeongguk’s gut, release already creeping into the corner of his vision. But he holds it back by knocking your legs further apart, mouth returning to the bruise he left earlier, teeth sinking into the sensitive skin. You arch into him, shifting as pain bleeds through your nerves. The motion allows the last inch of him to slip past your walls, spearing you open, before Jeongguk draws himself out and returns with a hard slow thrust. He fucks you deep, right into the bed, the frame creaking with each loud meeting between the two of you. You can’t do anything but cling onto him, eyes fluttering as his cock drives into you, determined with every piston of his hips to see you unravel. And you do, with a sickening quickness, already weak with the remembrance of your past edge. You feel soft underneath him, pressed against his skin like you hope you find a home for yourself there. And Jeongguk provides — lips mapping your skin gently and a pride in his tone that makes you want to do anything for him.

“That’s it, good girl.” You can’t say anything but his name, whining with every drag of his length along your walls. “So good to me,” he whispers, sweet, unlike his unforgiving hips. “Pretty girl and she’s all mine.”

“Yes,” you gasp, wanting this more than ever. “All yours—a-all—hnghhhh—y-yours! Jeongguk, please! P-please, please, please.”

He slows, smiling into your neck. “What bunny? What do you want?”

“Wanna cum, Jeongguk p-please let me cum.” When he moves away you feel your gut drop. The vibrator is flicked back one, humming dangerously. “Guk—” you start; he shushes you with a purposeful thrust.

“You said you wanted to cum. Remember what you promised me, bunny?” You nod, slow, nervous but your need overriding your fear. Jeongguk just smiles, shifts himself a little deeper, and then places the vibrator where you need it most. It’s not instant, but it’s quick and violent, travelling through your bones and Jeongguk rocks himself deep, curls damp on his forehead and his shoulders tense but his body still giving. You match his movements with your own, shuddering the closer you feel it creep, ripping itself right out of your limbs, drawn to the surface with no remorse, your eyes falling shut and hips seizing. The vibration paired with the feeling of Jeongguk fucking you full is intoxicating, and unlike you he doesn’t hesitate, playing with your clit unforgivingly.

You don’t even hear yourself, mouth agape and your back high from the sheets, all you know is heat, burning from the inside out. No air in your lungs as it spills from you, right onto his length, walls drawn tight. It hits his abdomen, leaving his muscles wet and glimmering as the moonlight greets his skin. Jeongguk shuts down, hips moving automatically, the vibrator thrown aside, still buzzing forlornly. He couldn’t give a damn about it, bending your legs back and fucking into you hard as you coat his cock in your wetness. If it was loud before, it’s obscene now. The nails in his back spur him further, a need he’s never felt before consuming him whole. It’s already there, the white of his desire clouding his vision, but his brain suddenly stills.

Jeongguk’s hand on your chin draws you back to Earth, mind nothing but mush as he continues to fuck you open. They’re erratic thrusts, and with them, you slowly release that your cheeks are wet. Jeongguk realises it the same time you do, thumb gingerly brushing the tears falling from your eyes away. There’s a strange new awareness buzzing through your body, like your bones feel new, limbs reformed. But nothing could prepare you for that thumb on your cheek travelling down, grazing your lips until they fall open. He slips it past, lets you flick your tongue against it, before demanding. “Open.”

And you do, because what wouldn’t you do for him.

“Can I?” He questions, and somehow you know what he is asking. Another claim. Something else you’ve given nobody but him.

“Yes.”

There’s a fall in his shoulders as if he was afraid you would deny him. But how could you ever? His thumb leaves your lips, hand drifting until it settles on your neck, pressing firmly but not tight. And then his own lips part, hips unwavering, for what he sends down your throat. You swallow, oddly thrilled by it while Jeongguk watches silently, almost in marvel. It does something to you, the way he stares, like he cannot believe you’re his. And you feel that sentiment in how he kisses you next, desperate, pleading, thankful. You return it, tongue soft against his as you feel his back draw taut, a low groan spilling down your throat when Jeongguk finally snaps, euphoria bleeding through his brain. You feel it hit your walls, warm and wet, painting you white, a strange satisfaction settling through your body.

When he eventually rolls over, quiet like he’s still recovering, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, an attempt to keep his love locked in. His hand cups your own, guiding you back into reality with a gentle squeeze.

The still buzzing vibrator is what you hear first, followed by the joint panting of your lungs. You move to grab it, hoping to hide the revelation in your eyes by glaring at him. Jeongguk is still too lost to care, face flushed a vibrant rouge.

“Turn this stupid thing off,” you mutter, legs still stuck, fused to the bed from the shock of your orgasm. Jeongguk snatches it up, waving it through the air as he turns it off, before giving it a fond kiss.

“Gross,” you comment, smacking his hard chest.

“No,” Jeongguk returns, dropping it. He plants a ginger kiss on your forehead. “I quite like it actually, we should order another one. Do you think they do vibrating panties?”

You hit him again, rolling over until your leg swings over his. He keeps looking at you like that, and it keeps clawing right through your heart. “You’re so sick and evil,” you say instead of the annoying comments that flutter in your delirious brain. You want to call him pretty, beautiful, perfect, maybe the best thing you’ve ever had. But you can’t let Jeongguk know he has all that power over you — not when already made you squirt and spat down your throat in one sitting. “Can you clean me up? I’m getting sticky.”

Jeongguk stills like he’s suddenly remembering what he just did, where he just came. And then you feel the rise of his chest, gaze flicking up to meet his. Bright and full of something akin to adoration, before he blinks it away.

“Give me a moment, I think I just saw God.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts smut #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #bts fanfic #bts scenario #au: jock!jaykay

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