#he knows he doesn't just “give up” from a challenge

[muntitled]

Boa

Pairings: Geum Seongje x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're just a kid, caught in a gangster’s crosshairs. What happens when you don’t deliver like you should…

Warnings: Language, Dom!Seongje, Gangsterism, Bullied!Reader, Coercion, Bullying, Extortion, Mentions of Rape, Smut +18 (mdni), Dark fic, Dubious consent, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Desperate Sex, Humiliation, Degradation

A/N: I'm not responsible for the media you consume. I wrote this for me so...

Ever since you've started working for him, you've learned to get extremely acquainted with the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sir…” your voice is brittle as you try to make yourself heard in the suffocating internet cafe, “I'm short on delivery today..."

Hardwood. Tile. Linoleum. It's become all too familiar to you. The floor is all you see in his presence.

You never looked Seongje in the eyes unless he addresses you first. He likes that, you suspect.

It's kept you alive this long so you must be doing something right.

"I got assigned a kid to tutor and..." you clear your throat, not daring to make direct eye contact, choosing instead, to keep your eyes trained on the dirty, cold floor.

The internet cafe is the very last place you'd want to be on a Friday evening. You were caught right in between two challenging essay due dates- one for English and one for AP English. Both hung gravley over your head, threatening to set off your sympathetic nervous system and have you fainting from academic stress. Seeing him was the very last thing you needed.

"That tutoring time fucked with my system and-" despite all your achievements, despite the academic prestige and the boundless knowledge… in Seongje's presence you feel insignificant.

A bug he's letting scurry around for no other reason except his enjoyment. You didn't want to get stomped on. You saw what happened to the other kids under his thumb and it kept you up at night. All that blood. All the merciless sadism.

You aren't dumb enough to hope an exception would be made for you.

"I'm sorry,” you conclude, and for a second, you get no response. He plays his game. His friends remain silent.

That's all until he pushes the bridge of his glasses up further against his nose. A calm, quiet sigh leaves his lips.

“Before you started working for me, do you know what you were?" Seongje doesn't take his eyes off the screen. His fingers run deftly over the keys as he speaks to you without ever really acknowledging you, "You were in an alleyway, about to get raped by Eunjang scum."

"Yes, Seongje, I know-"

"And in return for my kindness, what did I ask of you?"

"FUCK- COVER ME BRO!" Your eye snaps up to the source of the loud and sudden burst of energy. Your frightened and pitiful eyes find a boy seated adjacent to Seongje and his goons. He's bent over his screen, clearly not a part of the group. Clearly far too young.

Your heart sinks when you realize Seongje's eyes are trained on the boy too.

"Ya…” Seongje raises his voice a decimal above the cacophony yet it has you flinching. “Too loud,” he says to the boy, “Didn’t anyone teach you shut up when adults are talking?” he asks monotonously to the boy- a child really- still mourning the loss of his avatar on the screen. He doesn't pay Seongje any mind.

Of course he doesn't. He's a kid.

How could he have known?

He came to an internet cafe to play a game with his friends.

It's the boy's innocence that hurts the most.

He doesn't know that the monsters under his bed are very real.

They walk where he walks.

They don't hide.

They move about freely.

Your heart makes like the titanic and sinks.

"Excuse me for a second." Seongje addresses you politely, finally giving you a fleeting glance before pushing himself out of his gamer chair. You see his entire row of friends (if that's what one could even refer to them as) remain unfazed as Seongje rounds the table to stand directly behind the young boy.

He’s bigger, far bigger as he pushes the rims of his glasses up, staring directly at you

"I know you're smart so you're probably aware that your fuck-up won't be tolerated-” he says to you, despite slithering his arm around the boys neck like a boa as he squeezes. Everyone keeps their eyes trained to their computers. Your fist curls at your side. You want to look away but you can't because you're speaking to Seongje. You wouldn't want to aggravate him further by showing him his mindlessly violence bothers you. So you try not to flinch.

You try not to let the casual violence scare you. How nonchalantly he speaks while an elementary school boy flails in his arms, begging to be released from the headlock making his lips turn blue

“You knew there'd be a punishment,” Seongje is still speaking to you. You hold your breathe in solidarity with the boy choking in his arms, “-for fucking up your delivery-” crimson blossoms onto the little boys face but Seongje keeps his eyes on you, appearing unfazed by the boy flailing like an animal in arms, "And yet you came anyway. That's the kinda work ethic, I like-” he smiles, “I like it alot-"

Eventually, after what feels like forever, he lets go of the boy. You finally breathe as well, watching as the kid slumps forward ingesting the air in horrid gasps.

Seongje bends forward, patting the boy on the back.

"No more interrupting when I speak, yeah?" Whether the boy was new to this particular internet cafe, it was unclear, but you hoped to whatever divine being that he wouldn't dare come back.

"So I'll let it slide-" He turns his attention back to you and you watch, still shaken up as Seongje leaves the little boy to make his way back to his side of the table. When he breezes past you he smells like nothing. Like his eyes, everything about him is empty.

"Thank you, Seongje-"

He nods before adding, "After you get on your knees." The goon sitting nearest to you, all the way at the end of the table, his fingers hover over the keys, and just like before, the room is rid of all air.

"Excuse me?”

He pulls out his chair for you, like some mimic of a perfect gentleman he opens his arm, gesturing you in.

"I want you on your knees, under the desk.” His words hang above you all. It has tears threatening to spill. Bile rising.

“What’s with the face? Its not like I’m asking you to suck my dick,”

"Seongje, I need to get home-"

"If you can't do it yourself I'm more than happy to help."

That has your legs moving into action. In your periphery, it feels as though everyone's watching you. A thing in psychology called the imaginary audience. When you're so self-conscious you concoct this idea of being the center of attention… only this time, it's real. You know they're all watching you. You know no one will do anything about it.

"Under the desk you go," he chuckles before sitting down and pushing his chair back in. You back away, creating intense distance between you. Your back hits dirty wires and your knees press hesitantly down onto the grime just to achieve a more comfortable position. Everything you see is his legs, his friends legs and you're suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to cry.

You want to scream at him to let you go. He's hijacked you from your endless pile of homework and yet the very thought of standing up for yourself causes a sea of nausea.

So you sit there in the dark, not knowing when this punishment would conclude. When would he let you go home? That sends you into another spiral. You've heard Seongje could game for 24 hours straight. Maybe more if he was in close vicinity to food and a bathroom. You knew this internet cafe would close eventually, that gives you the smallest sliver of hope and so you do your time.

Never once does he acknowledge you- the girl under his desk. Unbeknownst to Seongje, you catch one of his fellow gang members sneak multiple glances at you under the table. They all do. Like they enjoy seeing you under here. As time passes, and you slip further and further away from the stress, you realize that down here, on the floor, under his desk, the world is small. It's quite comforting actually and that wasn't the trauma talking.

You've always liked small spaces.

It definitely beat dealing with whatever he had going on up there half the time.

Slowly, your body begins to shut down. Your energy plummets from all the stress and all the thoughts. This is the first time you've been forced into a spot for too long doing nothing. No essays. No tutoring.

Due to tendencies from your childhood that you should've gotten rid of, you find yourself curling up against his leg. He stiffens and you snap out of the exhaustion long enough to reel back. Especially when you see his hand reach under the table. Your heart hammers in your chest, not a single word spoken as his hand searches for something. You move a bit closer until his hand catches on your hair. You wince as he drags you closer, pushing your head against his leg as you had done.

He leaves you there. You try to regulate your breathing as you feel him adjust in his seat above you.

You shift as well. Not your head. He clearly wants you there. But your legs are uncomfortable. You try to kneel and it's ridiculous because your head never leaves his leg.

No position seems comfortable enough until he stretches his leg out, right in between yours and you're made to straddle it. Above you, his fingers are still hitting the keys and you try to disassociate from the fact that his leg is pushing against your cunt. You try to sneak a peek at the surface, his glasses are trained on the screen. Not knowing whether it's your exhaustion making a reappearance but you could've sworn you hear the words, "good girl," release from him in a low drawl.

Something in his tone has you shifting over his leg. Your cunt warms against his leg and you fight the urge to buck against him. All you had to do was remember who it is that you're currently touching. That conscious reminder has you once again hellbent on doing your time with concrete resolve.

That resolve breaks.

It shatters when he eases his back against the chair, enough to once again slither his hand down towards you.

He curls his fist into your hair and tugs.

He pushes you down and lifts you up and you mindlessly follow his movements until you realize he's coaxed you into riding his leg.

He lets go of your hair, satisfied when your hips move out of their own accord.

You hate how good it feels to quite literally be beneath him. You look up and you whimper oh so quietly when you see that small smile play on his lips while his eye remains on the screen.

He's given you new instructions now and so you don't dare to stop moving your hips against him. Despite the damp spot forming on the seat of your underwear. You're not sure what it is that allows you to lose yourself so easily. Perhaps it's all the expectations that melt away when you're doing something so pitiful. You're breaking for him and he's letting you. You're not in control of anything and there's freedom in that.

“F-Fuck-” you didnt mean for the words to slip. There are still other people here but you also couldn't help the wave of pleasure that pushed up so suddenly. Your clit is moving against the fabric of his pants just right and your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head.

The second that whimper escapes your mouth, he stiffens again.

You watch as he leans back again, this time his hand isn't reaching out for you. It's to ghost over the bulge forming in his pants. Somehow that spurs you on more.

You grind against him desperately and before he can take his hand away, this time you reach up for him.

You watch him closely. The glare from the screen reflects on his glasses. His jaw, tight.

He controls the game easily with one hand, while you bring the other into your mouth.

You're not sure where this other side of you came from. This vixen who rolls her tongue out and forces his index and ring finger into her warm mouth.

He becomes more and more restless… His breath hitching. Seongje's fingers hit the keys more aggressively, while his right hand forces his fingers further down your throat. His hips buck upwards and you can see the damp spot forming where his cock is straining against his pants. He's about to cum in his pants and you're about to cum on his leg and it's far too much for you.

You know his friends are about. You try to preserve even a sliver of dignity but it all goes out the window.

“Fuck-” he spits out, slamming his fist on the table before abandoning the game. There's a fire in his eyes as he sits back to watch you peer up at him with complete and utter desperation.

“What a fucking slut-” he snarled, cleaely audible enough for not only him but his friends too. It has your mouth snapping open. Your back arches as you try to watch him watching you cum on his leg.

You've never held his attention for this long and it sends you off the edge.

“S-Seongje-” you barely squeak out as your cunt spasms against his leg. You rut uncontrollably, spurred on by the name That fell from your lips as if your body needed a reminder of just who it was making you cum. Your tormentor.

It has you seeing stars.

For all of 11 seconds.

Until it comes crashing down on you. Your pitiful act has you reeling. Mind spinning.

You don't want to look up at him but you have nowhere else to look. Your heart sinks when you see a smile form slowly across his lips… Somehow you knew you'd never be rid of him.

[silvaurum]

"the enemy of my enemy is my friend" is a truism that is very easily disprovable. think like... rock paper scissors. sometimes the enemy of my enemy is also my enemy because there are more than two sides in a conflict.

dick cheney is not my fucking friend no matter who his enemy is. dick cheney might hate trump, but he also hates me and my friends, and he wants me dead. why would i give more power to someone who wants me dead? oh he promises he'll use it to destroy the other guy first? hmmm well surely nothing could wrong with that. surely the guy who hates me would never lie to me or use power against me. if he says he also hates another guy too, he'll definitely only hurt that other guy and not me, if i give him power and legitimacy to hurt people with. this could never backfire.

the sarcasm above is all to say: not every alliance is a strategic alliance. some alliances are just stupid

see also: it didn't even win lol. if anything the dems lost harder because of 'alliances' with right wingers who hate democratic voters. the alliance described here is not 'us and dick vs the right', its 'us vs the right, and the democrats are choosing the right apparently'

my strategy for not dying doesn't involve cozying up to people who hate me, because that seems ineffective, to put it mildly. whats the game plan? once the guy who hates me defeats the other guy who hates me, and shares power with the guys who are indifferent to my life, whats the play? whats my leverage? what makes me secure when the guy who hates me has political power and clout and the dems owe him one?

i do not need dick fucking cheneys help to not die. dick fucking cheney can go to hell and hopefully experience all the torture his oil wars inflicted on millions of people. meanwhile i will be thinking of actual personally applicable plans for my safety and the safety of my community. i have no hope a democrat coalition will save my ass at this point, because they're clearly... there's no moral or personal baseline that they will uphold. they're perfectly willing to sacrifice me and my loved ones.

that's why WE do this til WE free us. i make plans to stay safe, i look at my options, i look at what i can do for my communities. the political elite will not organize us for us. its tempting to panic and to accept their solutions and to despair right now. but while we should grieve, we can still build ourselves up. we can still learn skills and make connections and get emergency prepared. to look up and plan for some of these scary potential challenges. to ground ourselves in what we can control. learn to store food, learn how to mend and make do, get to know your neighbors, get to know your local resources. and none of this needs a single breath of input from dick fucking cheney. The Worst Person You Know might Have A Point, but that doesn't mean you sign up for their speaking tour, jesus christ

Löl

[asteropewpew]

dearest shooting star 🌠

loving anaxagoras felt similar to the momentary awe whenever you spot a shooting star. that quick, brilliant flash of light streaking across the midnight sky, so vivid and arrogantly defiant against the moon.

i shine brighter than you, it would say to the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating the late night. this shooting star was so bright that it seemingly cut a large swathe across like very definite sword strike, all the while burning up the rest of itself during the end of their cosmic journey. so look only at me.

"Your students looked quite... apoplectic." You look observed, tone filled with knowing amusement as you watched his students amble their way out of his classroom with varying expressions of frustration. Or in some cases, with a look of absolute vengeance. "A lively morning earlier then, yes?"

Anaxagoras doesn't quite chuckle, but the small, involuntary huff as his lips curved slightly in smug glee gives away his current sentiment regarding his students. His form tilted slightly forward as he turned to face you, a pair of vivid seafoam eyes gleaming brightly with all the knowledge and intellect that captivated your attention like a treacherous lure.

It's both fortunate and unfortunate (for your heart), that your own class ends at just around the time that his class ends—with the bell tolling overhead to signal the students to do a self-study session (or exchange shared moments of misery) at numerous amphitheaters or at the central library of the Grove.

"As always, our class ended with another debate."

"About the gods, Professor?"

"Naturally." Given his rather vocal stance as a blasphemer, it was no surprise that his students had seen fit to challenge him to yet another debate. More likely in hopes to humble him rather than commit to any intellectual exchange, you mused. "And as always, they are infuriated whenever I poke out the holes in their arguments."

"Their collective spite would end up with you getting killed one day, you know?" A lie. For as notorious as Anaxagoras had been in criticizing the actions of the Flame-Chase Journey right alongside, his students had somehow decided that he was deserving of their gifts and...other knick knacks that you were most definitely sure were priceless antiques.

Poor Hyacine who's been given more work by the rising mess around his office, no doubt. Although Anaxagoras' new student named Phainon had been mentioned as some sort of precious antique collector and appraiser, which made organizing things much easier, if any.

"If they commit as much dedication to verbally eviscerate me on court trials and debates, they should focus it on their thesis proposals." The sneer in his face made your lips quirk into a smile.

"You should really stop goading your cute little students, Professor Anaxagoras."

He opened his mouth, likely retorting his favorite correction before realization caught his would-be misstep. The small "tch" made your smile widen even as he shot you a warning glare, not missing your clear attempt at throwing him off despite following his numerous insistence regarding the matter with his name. "Telling me how to handle my students now, Professor?"

It should feel criminal how your name comes out of his mouth in a slow, lilting drawl. Almost indulging, if you were to entertain your own fanciful whispers.

"Just a word of advice as a fellow lecturer." But his unimpressed look told you as much about just how convincing your excuse is.

loving anaxagoras felt like loving a shooting star. there is joy in catching that moment of fleeting beauty across the sky, knowing that it would forever be different from any other shooting stars in the world. but like all things, even shooting stars are unforgiving towards their admirers.

they were utterly beautiful in their destruction, the broken fragments carrying with it such a devastating power that perhaps a part of you would break in return; echoing the shatter of a brilliant celestial body with your own hapless heart.

"What did you do?" You rushed to ask, voice trembling ever so slightly as you looked at the ragged exhaustion across Anaxagoras' face.

"Merely created something that puts us in equal standing with the gods." He sounded victorious, as if the price of his triumph wasn't riddled with blood and pain. Anaxagoras looked inappropriately disheveled, clothes rumpled and singed at some of the hems—pale blue hair clinging to his face that was full of grime and sweat and a few cuts here and there. "And I have succeeded in finally making it useable."

There are tremors in his hands, visible ones and you couldn't take your eyes away from the inflamed skin where the bright red of the Philosopher's stone adorned his right hand. Instantly, you feel the impossibly heavy weight of his trust in allowing you inside his personal alchemical laboratory.

There's a myriad of things that you could say to him, and yet all of it would make you nothing more than a hypocrite who allowed the one that you cherished most to completely ruin himself in pursuit of knowledge. All those years that had you faithfully shadowing him in his unquenchable thirst for answers, barely managing to reel him back just in time before he truly hurtled towards the deep end.

All those years of endless exasperation and countless debates as you hurried to catch up to him, all of it cultivated into biting back down a few choices of words directed at his dangerous recklessness. "Really? Treating yourself so poorly while you're in an experimental binge doesn't quite count as a logical course of action."

You hurriedly knelt down beside him as you brought out a roll of fresh bandages from your satchel, and he was mindful enough to not give you much grief as he obediently placed his trembling hands in your hands.

"Am I ever in danger with my own experiments?" His retort made you purse your lips as you carefully started tending to his wounds, a deep frown crossing your face for all that your hands remained gentle in treating his injuries.

The silence that followed, was a little stifled. Even with you, as immersed in your irritation and worries, didn't fail to notice the tension lining over his shoulders.

"This won't be the last." In the end, it was Anaxagoras who broke the silence, sounding a little gruff as he ducked his head to avoid your gaze. "I still need to find the answers to my new questions... far too many thing—"

"Be that as it may," you interrupted his halfhearted reasons with a pointed glare, "you are still expected to teach your own students instead of passing all them off to me every time you get possessed in doing your experiments!"

He tilted his head in consideration, as if only belatedly recalling that he had spent longer in his laboratory than he had expected.

"The brats should know better than compare you with me." The stupid, foolish, heretic scholar with one of the sharpest minds of today, missed your very non-subtle show of concern. Amazing. Truly a mind of the ages indeed. "And besides, you're the only one that wouldn't revise my lesson plan without consulting me first. Or make those impressionable students learn something that they shouldn't waste their time."

"No, I just want to get them off me because I'm tired of grading forty students every week on two different subjects."

"..." The foolish professor didn't even try to object, knowing better than to test your limits.

You also refrained from pointing out that his students have this weird tendency to debate with any professors that even dared to make them stray off his meticulous curriculum, for all that they are keen to put him through the wringer for at least once before they could graduate. "No personal laboratory time for at least a while."

"You can't possibly demand that of me."

The smile on your face dared him to argue any further than this. "I believe Hyacine would appreciate being notified of your... occupational injuries."

There's another beat of silence, but it was a little easier this time. Familiar.

Although your worries still made your chest grow tight, his disgruntled look soothed something within you as he obediently tilted his head up for you to dab at the small cuts and abrasions across his face.

Even more, the victory was sweeter when Anaxagoras eventually grumbled in defeat.

loving anaxagoras felt a little like condemning yourself to watching the fleeting destruction of a shooting star. you, a criminal who was sentenced to chase and watch the one that you loved the most, meet his own end with the most joyous laugh that you've heard from him.

anaxagoras who would completely burn up himself upon reaching the zenith of his journey, content in defying the tranquility of the evening night in a blaze of brilliant light. the false sky, as he had claimed, with eyes sparkling like the simulated constellations in the astronomy laboratory where alchemy fabricates a sky without the threat of aquila's temperamental gaze.

how you wanted, to valiantly preserve that shine without losing the brilliance that belonged to anaxagoras and his endless curiosity. except he was the kind of person who was never meant to be caged, confined and conforming to conventional ideas.

because he was always and foremost, meant to be free.

(and you could only hope that he can come back to you from time to time, if his time permits it; which was a factor that was slowly getting dwindling with each passing day.)

...Perhaps you'd have known it then, that he wouldn't simply just stop at embedding a Philosopher's stone in his right hand. That nothing could truly ever satiate his thirst in finding out the intricacies wrapped around Amphoreus and the ever-enduring Flame-Chase journey.

That he would embody your most favorite celestial body in all its vivid, and gut-wrenching beauty like this.

"Anaxa—are you crazy?!"

You saw him, slumped over the pillars of the central table while the contents in his personal laboratory which looked as if a veritable storm had swept upon it. Potions and vials lay shattered all over the ground, his alchemical gun lying innocuously beside him while numerous papers full of almost unrecognizable scrawls were scattered on the floor.

For a brief, frightening moment, you feared the worst.

"My name...is Anaxa...goras," he rasped after a moment, lone eye a little dull and unfocused as he struggled to recollect his thoughts when you rushed over to him. "Do not...call me Anaxa."

"And very soon, those words will be your last words if you don't get to the Courtyard as fast you can!" Panic was laced in your voice as you tried to check whether he had any debilitating injuries that require a mad dash to the Courtyard.

(Thin. He's thinner again.)

"This is a...culmination of my life's research and a milestone...regarding my capabilities," he argued, wheezing as he bared his teeth in an attempt to hide his pain when he tried to shift his position as you carefully prodded at his form.

"Which would be utterly useless if you don't make a patent of it while you're still alive," you snapped, finally letting out a breath when your preliminary search yielded nothing but a couple of bruises and symptoms of dehydration alongside exhaustion. "Have you truly decided to throw your life away like the foolish blasphemer that you are?"

Ever since he came back from that one conversation with Empedocles after he'd lost his eye, you know that he was a little different.

Sharper perhaps, much more intense as he had been before. Yet he looked perpetually weary, for all that his back stood tall and unwavering while handing out criticisms and advice for his students and fellow scholars.

As if he was always desperately running towards something that remained just out of reach.

"Why...do you care anyway? You're always so...meddlesome." The question made your heart grow still. It felt like being in the middle of Aidonia's harshest snowstorm, the wind howling at your foolishness for daring to even hope. "Don't you understand...why I must...do this?"

He is so thoughtlessly cruel at times, your dearest shooting star.

"I can't accept that what you're doing is so important that you would throw away your entire life for it." You didn't beg, but all of your emotions saturated each and every word. "Please, just take a break, Anaxagoras. There is time. You have time."

"Nothing is more important than seeing the Truth...of the false sky." His voice was hoarse, yet unwavering with the weight of his own conviction and obsessive desire. "And proving that...the Flame-Chase journey is not so linear in its approach. Everything else...was just an afterthought."

"Perhaps I had thought too highly of our time spent together." It hurt, when you could sense nothing but the genuine truth laced in his words. He's definitely suffered some sort of altered mental status right now, but it did little to lessen the sting. "And that my effort towards a dear colleague and companion, was nothing more than a show of charity in your eyes."

Anaxagoras didn't speak, nor did he even need to, as he had finally passed out in abject exhaustion and pain-filled sleep.

(Perhaps it was the best, that he couldn't hear the bitter disappointment in your voice.)

You allowed yourself a look, a last glance, feeling like you've swallowed knives with each indication of self-neglect over his form. His clothes were bigger than it should be on him, not to the point of fright but enough just to indicate how much he's foregone sustenance at least multiple times. Likewise, there's a clear expression of exhaustion in his face. His clothes were disheveled, likely from his latest stunt more than an unconscious habit—but he looked utterly... small in that moment.

It would be easy to hate him. To rage and hate his foolishness, the ease in how he discarded his own present in favor of crafting a future that he had decided that was not his to see. The sheer hypocrisy by how passionate he was in insisting the sanctity of life and autonomy over "misguided notions" of honor and obligation, when each of his choices had contributed to his eventual ruin.

But you couldn't.

Despite all your frustrations and concerns, you never would be able to hate him for as much as you cherish him.

You know you were not so important as to be able to anchor his feet, but you can't help but wish you were.

loving anaxa meant suffering from daring to attempt that you could handle the intensity of a shooting star. it's like being a moth drawn to his vibrant flame, helplessly oblivious to the eventual agony of being burned alive.

you loved still loved your shooting star who had captivated your attention so tightly, before he spirited your heart away from your hands without any intention of returning it. nor even trying to take care of it.

anaxagoras was a great many things, but he was also utterly oblivious at the best of times. you should have created a boundary with him early on, to rein in your feelings as soon as your traitorous heart thundered at the sight of his bright, satisfied smile.

(but you didn't. and equally hurt and filled you with humility for every time you could see a part of anaxa that perhaps few or rather, none had ever been privy to see it.)

your blasphemer was always meant for great things, regardless if he would be scorned or admired for his actions.

and you could only watch and try to help him when he has burned himself too early in his journey towards searching for the truth of this world.

the astronomy laboratory was one of your favorite ventures, and you keep to your silence even as the door opened to welcome the familiar clack of footsteps coming towards the center of the laboratory.

"...I didn't know that there's someone using the astronomy laboratory."

"It's occupied." your voice was clipped, sparing only the barest words as you didn't bother to turn around and acknowledge the illustrious anaxagoras. there was a brief pause, before you heard a rustling sound as he carefully sat down beside you.

ever since that day, when you had rushed anaxagoras into the courtyard after he had collapsed, you decided to keep your distance. a futile attempt at drawing a boundary when you've already reached a point in no return, but you held strong even when hyacine had cautiously asked if you would like to visit him even just once.

it was more for your sake than his, and you were confident that he wouldn't even notice—for all that he's dedicated his focus and attention to his dogged pursuit of the truth.

"You weren't present to the general meeting with all the Professors." it took everything in you not to flinch when you felt the weight of his gaze on the side of your face.

"I was busy." you were very much grateful that the darkness hid much of your expression as you drew your knees close to yourself.

"Busy with what?" he probed, because he never did have a sense of self-restraint when it comes to satiating his curiosity. "Hyacine told me that you asked to be relieved of another class to handle. And that you also applied for a...sabbatical leave."

the latter sentence echoed his mystified confusion, the notion of a vacation apparently being a foreign one to the foolish scholar.

"I'm accompanying Hyacine and Phainon on their usual visit back to Okhema." there, that should be enough to get him off your back and leave.

except it doesn't.

"You've never shown any interest in leaving the Grove for that holy city." it was evident how poorly he had regarded the capital with the eternal light, and you've heard his sentiments regarding a certain chrysos heir residing in the city often enough to understand his position.

but you didn't care much for that.

what pricked at your still smarting heart was—

"I don't need to report to you nor justify any of my actions to you for anything, Professor Anaxagoras." you replied, voice chillingly cold and void of your hurt as much as you can. "As you have made yourself quite clear on my interference to your pursuit of knowledge."

There was another pause, the fabric of his coat rustling as he abruptly moved closer to you.

"That day when you rushed me into the courtyard," his voice was faintly urgent, promptly you to finally give a glance at his pinched expression with a carefully distant look. except the faint unease within his piercing eyes made your traitorous heart flutter once again. "Did I say anything?"

this close, you could see that hyacine's work had lessened the exhaustion and overall gauntness of the scholar's face. despite you still childishly holding on to your anger, you felt a tension within you finally relax.

"Nothing but the truth, Professor." it was maddening, how your anger was quietly doused by seeing just how much he had recovered (even if you could still sense an air of weariness around him).

"That's not—" anaxagoras tsked, ever astute in deducing a hint from your response. "I said something."

you kept silent, because you refuse to be considered a puzzle where he would look for clues to satisfy his own questions. no, it would hurt you far too much if he treated what had happened as nothing more than a logical problem to be straightened out.

(it would be like holding out your still mending heart for him to destroy.)

"Whatever it was, it was enough for you to refuse a visit to me at the ward." the intensity in his gaze proved too much, and you ducked your head to look away from him. you saw his hand make an aborted move towards you, before it stopped and curled into a tight fist. "It happened when you caught me in my personal laboratory, and I was cognizant enough to respond but not enough to retain the memories of our brief interaction before you brought me to the Courtyard. You're angry. And I hurt you."

your foolish scholar had known nothing but the thorny path that would lead to his goals, and it was your own foolish decision to chase after him like a persistent shadow. in the end, everything can be traced back to your own decision to accompany him for so long—like that hapless moth who was drawn to the raging inferno that was anaxagoras the blasphemer.

you knew that he would change the world, at any and at all costs. even if the damning price was to ruin himself in the process.

"What did I say?" he asked again and... abruptly, you felt very tired.

forget it.

"It's alright," you murmured, finally looking up to give him a lopsided smile. don't worry, went unheard. "It was...my fault more than yours."

there was another pause again, before he spoke again.

"I am in need of a...companion for Hyacine to finally relinquish her watch on me." he said, stumbling over a particular word while you gave an inquiring hum.

you like to think that you know the undertone of his statement. don't go.

but you never truly left him, even in the height of your anger and hurt. hyacine would never fail to give you updates regarding his wellbeing and any additional expenses quietly paid for by you (under the guise of an anonymous benefactor), and combined with her stubbornness and the threat of making ika sit on his chest was enough for him to veer off from going back to his laboratory far too soon.

"...I can do that." it would be another story if you saw his main table and be reminded of how you initially saw him, but that was a thing for the future.

his shoulders slumping over slightly made a smile finally crack across your face, and he swiftly closed the remaining distance to rest his weight against yours.

"Good." and he sounded like he meant it.

you know that anaxagoras doesn't apologize for his actions, not because of pride but because he would not regret any of the actions that he had made. that each of his actions were driven with a purpose that would ultimately bring him closer to his goals.

when his hand carefully rested above yours after a while, the warmth spoke more than his clumsy attempts at making it for his apparent misstep. you gazed back upon the twinkling constellations, with the weight of anaxagoras' presence sitting close to your side.

your shooting star, if only for a moment, paused in his relentless pursuit to accompany you for the night.

it wasn't quite an apology, but it was more than enough.

(p.s. first time trying to do this so please tell me your thoughts? would you also want an anaxa pov to compliment this hehe)

[dailynnt]

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Jungkook reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 11/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lover, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope (later more than one bed), undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension, slow burning

⋆˙⟡ From author: Chapter 11 is ready for you guys. I'm sorry I haven't written for so long, I hardly have a free minute lately. But I tried to spend every free minute writing 🥰 So, what do you think of the chapter on behalf of Jungkook? And what do you think of his thoughts? I did all my best for you, my dear, and I hope that this long wait is worth it ❤️‍🔥

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl, @vantelover1306, @deepikhaprakash, @mar-lo-pap, @zeytiable, @lallataegi, @vintagemoonsstuff, @indigomoonchild09, @diame93, @bts-ruu, @asyr97, @taeloversblog, @songbyeonkim, @miniruuu, @hubbytaehyung, @queen1599, @goldenboysmuse, @nikkinikj, @kookiesncreamri, @guwol, @unholyforjk, @hisdecalcomania17 (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 11. The love he doesn’t know and the desire he can’t control

For the first time since last night, Jungkook's hand rested on your waist, relaxed. No pressure, no usual lust. It was just there, as if to say: you're here. You're close. You are his. Now, and tomorrow, and, damn it, any time as long as your agreement is in effect. Your body was warm nearly his strong chest, and your head was almost resting on his shoulder.

Yesterday, you surrendered, and Jungkook beat every ounce of resistance you'd ever had out of you. For the first time, you didn't hide your eyes, didn't hiss back. For the first time, you accepted him.

Jungkook smiled to himself, looking at your relaxed face. You were sleeping, and he... he looked at you and felt like a winner. Finally. After all those days when you passed him by, giving him cold looks as if he were worthless. After all the harsh words you used to push him away. After every argument, every challenge from you, he waited. Patiently, confidently knowing that one day you would break down, open up, let him in. And now you are here. In bed with him, in his arms, with his breath on your skin.

He has never been denied. Never. Not even once. But you did it with such stubbornness that it made him crave it. It wasn't enough for Jungkook to just want you. It was when he saw you talking to Namjoon, when you smiled at him, that Jungkook wanted to possess you.

And now, lying next to you, he realized that you belonged to him. At least for this period, while your agreement lasts. The agreement is his favorite thing right now. Because it doesn't give you the right to leave, it doesn't give you the right to be with someone else, even if you want to run away for a second.

Jungkook took in a deep, slow breath, feeling his body stirring again just from your proximity. Your scent. Your warmth. Your skin. He remembers how you begged him yesterday, how you begged him on the yacht, a couple nights ago, and he's already getting hard.

Jungkook doesn't think about feelings. But he thought that there is something else going on between you. Something that burns somewhere between lust and the need to appropriate. Your resistance has made him want you even more. And now that you've destroyed the fucking rule that annoyed him so much when you didn't run away, he realizes he can have you whenever he wants.

His fingers find their way up your thigh. Gently. Slowly. As if checking to see if you're real. You stirred slightly in your sleep, slightly raised your eyelashes, yawned. But you didn't wake up completely. This excited him even more.

Jungkook leaned over, raising himself on his elbow, and touched his lips to your shoulder. Your skin was warm and tender. His arm went higher, enveloping you completely, pulling you closer.

You mumbled something as you turned sideways to him, inadvertently pressing yourself against his crotch. Jungkook felt his waking cock needing your entrance, or your mouth for that matter. You were provoking him even in his sleep. You made him greedy. Insatiable.

Jungkook's hand slipped under the covers, and his fingers immediately went under your tank top, which you hadn't taken off even when you had sex last night. Jungkook touched your breasts, very gently. Not like last night. Your nipple hardened in his fingers, and your body reacted without even waking up.

He smiled, his lips touching your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses. And then... his hand slid lower. Under the fabric of your shorts. And Jungkook felt the same thing he'd felt the night before. You were wet.

"Damn..." he whispered over your ear, "Even in your sleep, your pussy remembers me..."

His breathing became heavier. He couldn't stop himself from sliding down, both hands slowly lowering your shorts and underwear. Jungkook settled between your legs, spreading your thighs, gently, almost tenderly. He didn't want to wake you up... not yet. He wanted to savor you in complete silence, enjoying every second of your defenselessness, your submissiveness, which you never showed during the day.

His tongue slid along the inside of your thigh, leaving wet marks, and his hands held your hips to keep you still. He wanted to have you quietly. Slowly. Greedily, without rushing. His tongue finally reached your sensitive spot, savoring your state between sleep and wakefulness. Jungkook's tongue penetrated deeper into you, and after a few strokes, he returned to your clit, licking gently.

You woke up with a soft moan, your stomach shuddered, and your back arched. He felt it and just smiled. You reached out to him with your hand, but Jungkook didn't let you - he gently took your hand away and continued to hold on you the edge, long, painfully, until your breathing became rapid and your moans were audible.

You twitched, sighing softly, and then he licked you again. And again. His tongue was hellishly soft and confident at the same time. He didn't need words. He just ate you-slowly, intently, as if you were the sweetest dessert he'd ever had.

Jungkook's tongue continued to play with your clit, and he breathed deeply through his nose, inhaling your scent, which made him dizzy. Your hips shuddered a little, and your fingers involuntarily clutched the blanket. Only when he felt you fully awake did he slowly move away, blowing lightly on your heated center.

"You're awake now," his voice was low, husky, and full of lust. "I love the way your pussy is shaking for me." he returned to your pussy and eagerly fell to your clit sucking on it. You felt him bring you closer to that longed-for pleasure. As your orgasm swept through your body, he let go - slowly, with one last lick, so sensual that you shuddered once more. Your breathing was ragged, your eyes unfocused, and your heart was racing like crazy.

Jungkook towered over you, licking his lips of the rest of your juices. You could feel his hard cock.

"Good morning, kitten," he smiled. You smiled back. And he could see how happy you were.

"It's a really good morning," you mumbled, still breathing heavily. Jungkook pecked your lips and got off you. He sat down next to you and started to get dressed.

"Where are you going?" you asked him. Jungkook stood up.

"To the shower. I have a meeting today. Do you need to go downtown?"

You watched him put on his T-shirt and couldn't get enough of the sight of his well-toned body, which almost made you salivate.

"Yeah. I wanted to go with my grandmother to buy her some groceries and some things for the house." you said, climbing higher up to the headboard. Jungkook froze looking at you. Your sleepy, slightly disheveled appearance after he ate you made him smile. He thought he'd like to see you like this more often. You darted your eyes nervously.

"What?"

"Nothing." Jungkook shrugged and picked up his phone, checking for texts from Lee's manager and the man he was supposed to meet today. "If you want, I can give you a ride, and I'll pick you up when I'm done with my work?"

You got out of bed. Jungkook noticed your movement out of the corner of his eye. He put down his phone and turned to you when you stopped a step away.

His eyes met yours - familiar, too familiar. A look that meant only one thing: you wanted to talk. His shoulders tensed as he waited for you to speak. Fuck, are you really going to talk that 'we can't do this' shit again?

"So how do you see this deal now?" you asked, and he didn't hear the excitement in your voice. He was surprised. You were cold, confident, and it made him tense up more than if you had started protesting again.

Jungkook still didn't think about "what's next". He just needed to have you. Right now. Always. And your question took him by surprise.

"What do you mean?" he asked, taking a step toward you. He stopped very close, towering over you. He wanted to touch you, but for some reason he held back.

"So now I play your girlfriend, and we fuck whenever we want?" you clarified. Jungkook hummed. It sounded harsh coming from you. But it was accurate. This was exactly how he had envisioned the next few months.

"Yes, kitten, something wrong?" he smiled, feeling his heart quicken from your attentive gaze.

"I'm just thinking," you put your finger to your lips, as if to deliberately draw his attention. "What if you fall in love with me? What then?"

Jungkook laughed softly, hoarsely and deeply. If he were "normal," maybe he would. But he didn't know how to love. Not in this way.

"Would it be a tragedy?" he said playfully.

"For me?" you raised an eyebrow, "You know it would be so sweet for me to break your heart," your smile flashed, your eyes sparkled slyly. And he couldn't resist. He pulled you sharply to him, making you hold your breath.

He held you tightly by the waist. His eyes were boring into your eyes, his body tense. You provoked him again. You made his blood boil.

"Sweet, you say?" Jungkook's voice dropped "Kitten, you have no idea how bitter it will be when I decide I don't want you anymore..."

You feigned indifference, but as always, your rapid heartbeat gave you away, which he could feel as if it were his own. He knew what he was doing to you, and he fucking loved it. You can't even imagine how much he enjoyed your struggle for dominance.

You didn't expect him to respond like that. You could tell by the way your eyebrows were drawn together. Jungkook leaned in, and your breath hitched as his lips slid over your cheek and then your ear. His breath caressed your velvety skin.

"But for now, I want to..." Jungkook's hand slipped under the robe you'd already put on, sliding up your thigh. "I'll take you as long as I want. And you know what, kitten?" he pulled back a little to look at you again, "I've already seen and I know you want it too. So let's just let it happen."

You took a gulp of air, and your lips opened slightly. Jungkook was about to kiss you.

"Jungkook..." your voice was barely audible, more like a plea than a protest.

"Mmm?" his fingers touched your heated center and he smiled, sensing how ready you were. "So soon? You just came and you're wet again? Do you think I should fuck you?"

You wanted to answer, but his lips closed on yours in a kiss, hard, as if he wanted to take all the air out of your lungs. Jungkook tilted you backwards, throwing you onto the bed, and before you knew it, you were gasping for air.

Jungkook thought he was going to stop after eating you, but you love to piss him off. He feels aroused and slightly irritated.

He wants you. All the time. And every action you take excites him. But at the same time, he's afraid of the way you affect him. You make him lose control - and he's not the type to like that. Jungkook likes to be in charge. He likes to be dominant. And with you, he's already woken up twice with desire for you before you've even looked at him. It scares him. He thinks he might lose control of himself, and it throws him off balance.

It's just sex. It's just a game.

You're not like the women he's been with. You are not weak. But how you obey to him when he is inside you. How sweetly you give up. And yet, your tongue is sharper than a blade. You don't give him full power. And it drives him crazy. And he likes it... more than he'd like to admit.

"Jungkook," you call out to him, moving your hips in front of him.

"Do you want to beg me like always?" he murmured, kissing your breasts.

"I want you to stop talking and get to the point," you complained. Jungkook stopped. He straightened up and pushed his hard cock into your pussy, knocking the air out of your lungs.

"That's the wrong answer, kitten," Jungkook smiled. He wanted to hear it again. Your begging was something he couldn't get enough of. He kissed you, biting your lower lip. Jungkook was in pain, his semen had already leaked onto his boxers.

"If you want me, say it, otherwise I'll leave you here, horny, and go away."

He demanded you confess.

"I want..." you said, breathing fast, "I want you Kook," his cock twitched with pleasure. From your soft sighing voice, from your words, from your movements.

Jungkook let go of you, got off the bed and stood in front of you. You were confused, losing his closeness.

"Take off your clothes," Jungkook ordered. You slowly sat up, keeping your eyes on him. Your palms touched the silk fabric of the robe and pulled it off. You took off your tank top, and when your hands touched your panties, you froze.

"You're not taking your clothes off?" you asked quietly, without raising her voice. You still remembered that your grandmother could be hearing you.

"You'll do it after you stretch yourself," Jungkook answered. He wanted to see how much you wanted him and how ready you were to listen to everything he said. You got to your feet, forcing Jungkook to back away half a step. His eyes fell greedily on your breasts and erect nipples.

"So maybe I should put you on the bed, sit on your cock, and fuck myself without your participation?" you asked, taking off your panties.

Jungkook smiled again, but not so playfully, but darker, with a dangerous spark in his eyes that meant one thing: you had pissed him off. And now he would take revenge... sweetly, slowly, deeply.

"Do you really want to fuck yourself with my cock?" his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. You walked over to him, completely naked, and caught the edge of the T-shirt he had put on a moment ago. You lifted it up and pulled off over his head. Your fingers grabbed the elastic of his boxers and pulled them down. You could clearly see how excited he was. You looked at your hands, and he just couldn't take his eyes off your face. How sexy you are... how fucking sexy you are when you show your character.

Soon, Jungkook was standing there as naked as you. You took his cock in your hand and rolled it around, making Jungkook moan.

"You throw orders around, but who's to say I'll do it your way?" you looked up at him, smiling mysteriously. And with these words, it was as if you had knocked the ground out from under his feet. He couldn't lose control of the situation so easily.

Jungkook grabbed your wrist and pushed you back onto the bed. You fell gently, bending your knees, and he knelt down in front of you. His gaze crawled over your body: hungry, all-consuming.

"Oh, everything will be my way, don't even doubt it, now, open your legs. Wider." Jungkook's voice became unbearably hoarse. You did as he said. And the very next moment, he brought his finger to his lips, moistened it, and touched your pulsating center.

"There you go. Kitten, this time you prepare yourself for me," he took your palm in his and brought it to your pussy. You were breathing fast and raggedly, pulling your finger in slowly, your eyes never leaving his.

"Deeper, kitten. I know you can do it." His palm was on top of yours, and he helped you push your own fingers deeper into you. You obeyed, his husky laugh echoing near your ear as he leaned down into you.

"You're so beautiful when you're obedient. But you're even more beautiful when you're lascivious..." he bites into your neck, his tongue tracing fire trails across your skin. "I'm going to come if I still watching how you stretch yourself ..."

"Let’s, Kook, I need you, not my fingers."

And he did.

In one swift movement, he pinned you to the bed, his body covered yours, and the next moment you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. You thought he was going to do it slowly, as he always did, but the movement was sudden. Jungkook entered you - deeply, completely, without any warning. You screamed, your lips slightly pursed, but not in pain - in pleasure.

"God..."

"Tell me did more," he growled, not giving you time to adjust to his size, he began to move inside you with a stiff slowness, as if punishing. "Say my name. Ask for more."

"Jungkook... more... more... please..."

You couldn't catch your breath, your voice was breaking, and he was coming inside you again and again.

"That's it, baby. You're finally saying the right thing."

His next thrust made your body arc as he moved hard, powerful, deep, his every move as if to erase your awareness of reality. His moan became low and muffled, biting into your shoulder. Jungkook's hand slid between you, finding your throbbing center and ruthlessly began to stimulate you.

"Do you hear your pussy begging for me? It's so wet... all for me..."

You moaned, losing control, and clenched your legs around his waist, forcing him even deeper.

"Jungkook... I can't…" you whispered, digging your fingers into his back, pulling him even closer. And at the same moment, he abruptly changed the angle, and you barely had time to bite your lip to keep from screaming.

"Yes... here?" he smiled, cunning, brazen, absolutely ruthless in his passion. "Now every time I want to make you scream, I'll remember this place..."

His movements became faster, uncontrollable, and your moans could expose what you two was really doing in your room.

"A little, kitten, just a little bit more..." his forehead was touching yours, your breaths merged, and so did your bodies.

"Kook... I'm going to..." you wanted to warn him of your impending orgasm.

"Come...give me everything..." he whispered through clenched teeth, holding back with the last of his strength. A few more deep, sharp thrusts and your body arched in orgasm, wave after wave rolling over you, washing away the world around you, leaving only him.

Jungkook felt your inner walls squeeze around his cock, and it was almost impossible to hold back. He exhaled, hard, hot, and quickly slipped out of you, he freed himself from your legs that held him as if trapped. He sat on top of you, placing his legs on the sides of your chest. Jungkook grabbed your chin, lifting your face up. You looked up at him with a blurred gaze, obviously still under the influence of orgasm.

"Open your mouth, kitten..." his voice sounded low and breathy.

You obediently opened your lips, and the very next moment he wrapped his hand around cock, running it several times along its length, trapping your gaze. Your eyes are blurry with pleasure, your lips are glistening, your tongue is sticking out a little.

That was enough.

"Here you go..." moaned Jungkook as warm, thick cum splashed on your tongue, some on your lips and some deep down your throat as you instinctively swallowed.

You greedily took it all in, not taking your eyes off him as he completed his last strokes with a trembling body. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaved, and his hands trembled slightly.

You licked the cum from your lips, gently, seductively. He looked at you with incredible lust and some kind of wild pride.

Jungkook slowly got off you and sat down next to you, breathing deeply.

"Fuck..." he breathed out, running his fingers through his hair, still unable to recover. His eyes slid over you, watching you lick your lips slowly, your mouth closing.

"You're so insatiable..." he accused you, smiling tiredly. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, still breathing a little heavily, a shadow of a smile on your lips. Jungkook ran a finger along your jaw, gently lifted your chin, and leaned down to kiss you briefly, lightly, tasting his own pleasure on your lips.

"Who's the insatiable one?" you asked rhetorically. Jungkook smiled, because he was the one who hadn't had enough. "I thought you were going to a meeting," you reminded him. Jungkook stood up and pulled on his boxers, then his pants.

"We have twenty minutes to get ready. Will you warn Halmoni?" Jungkook asked. You covered your naked body with a blanket and stretched lightly.

"Yeah, but give me 5 minutes, I need to find the strength to get out of bed," you mumbled, closing your eyes.

The sun was pouring light into the narrow streets of the old district of Busan, where a small market stretched in the center, between houses, surrounded by shops, flowers, and the aroma of spices. You walked next to your grandmother, who stopped at every stall, picking through the vegetables, looking at the prices, and talking to the vendors as if she had known them all her life.

Jungkook walked a little behind, calm, wearing a light shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. He looked attractive and expensive, so almost every vendor paid attention to you, some whispered, but Jungkook didn't pay attention.

He was checking his phone. Kwon Munho, the man with whom the meeting was scheduled, had warned him that he would be late. That's why Jungkook is now walking next to you and Grandma. In another situation, Jungkook would probably be angry that the meeting was postponed, but now he had the opportunity to stay with you and Grandma where he was supposed to play the role of your boyfriend.

Yesterday, he liked the way his grandmother reacted to him - sincerely, with gentle directness that older people only allow themselves to have with those they really like. She told directly that she liked him, and Jungkook took it almost too seriously. He didn't understand why, but he felt that it was important for him to impress your grandmother. Perhaps it was part of the game he was playing with you so subtly - an attempt to win over not only you, but your family as well.

Jungkook locked his phone and straightened up next to you. His hand rested casually on your waist, and a few minutes later, it slid lower, making you glance in his direction in embarrassment. You tried to stay confident, even though your body was giving you away more than your words.

Grandma, though she looked busy shopping, didn't miss a single glance Jungkook gave her granddaughter. She didn't ask too many questions - she was just happy to have him with her.

When you stopped at a bakery, Jungkook's phone vibrated. He took it out and saw that Kwon was already on his way to the appointed meeting place.

Jungkook reached into his pants pocket and pulled out some money. Without hesitation, he put it in your palm. It was 50 thousand won bills. Your eyes rounded when you realized that he had given you 250 thousand won. You looked at him in surprise, and he didn't seem to notice your gaze, but for a moment his eyes flashed with curiosity. He met your confused gaze and smiled, as if this was a normal thing between you.

"Buy whatever you want, my love," he leaned down to your face and whispered softly, "will you buy us condoms that I can cum inside you?"

You instantly blushed and if it weren't for Grandma, you would have lost your temper. You hit him lightly.

"Are you crazy?" you hissed. Jungkook dramatically put his palm to the place where you hit him and rubbed it lightly. He straightened up.

"I have to go, I'll pick you and your grandmother up in an hour. Have a good time." Jungkook kissed you lightly on the temple, a gesture that made your grandmother smile, but you remained indifferent in appearance. In the end, he lightly touched your fingers. Jungkook unconsciously wanted to keep your touch. He politely promised his grandmother that he would be back as soon as he could and walked to his car, which was parked at the entrance to the market.

His Mercedes drove in the opposite direction of the walking route, getting lost among the narrow streets of Busan.

The Blue Bean coffee shop, located in the Sapodong district, was the place Mr. Kwon had chosen for their meeting. Away from eyes that could follow.

Jungkook easily parked the car outside the coffee shop and went inside.

There was nothing special inside: an old sign, slightly worn furniture, and the faint aroma of cinnamon and freshly ground Arabica. A perfect, unremarkable place.

The heir to the ‘John Group’ looked around, searching with his eyes for the man who had the information he needed.

The man was already sitting. A narrow face, blue shirt, perfect hairstyle. His tablet was not far away, as if he had just held it in his hands. His cup of black coffee was half empty and he was holding it, looking out the window.

Jungkook approached, greeted him discreetly, bowing. The man noticed Jungkook and jumped up and held out his hand, bowing lower, too.

"Have you been waiting long?" He asked, taking off his glasses and sitting down across from him. A waiter immediately came to the table. Jungkook ordered an ice-cold Americano to refresh himself and take the next dose of caffeine his body needed.

"Not so long, just 10 minutes, maybe less," Mr. Kwon replied. Jungkook nodded his head, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"So, how's it going, Kwon-nim, did you find out anything?" Jungkook cut to the chase.

"Oh, yes, Jungkook-sajanim. You asked me to check the ownership structure of the companies that have been actively buying up small stakes in ‘Jeon Group’ in recent months, especially those that have been actively buying up small stakes in this week," the man began, picking up his tablet, "and... I found something interesting."

"Go ahead." Jungkook had an inkling of what Mr. Kwon might have found, but he needed to hear confirmation.

"The companies all look independent. But they all have financial ties to ‘Taemin Holdings’, based here in Busan," Kwon explained. At this time, coffee was brought to the table, and Jungkook began to drink it with a little thirst.

"Who's the ultimate owner?" he asked, tasting the coffee and milk on his tongue.

"Technically, it's offshore. But I dug deeper. The chairman of the board is Park Dongsu, the former CFO of ‘Kang Technology’. He resigned after Mr. Kang's direct visit to Busan six months ago."

Jungkook smiled slightly. It was expected.

"How much has been bought up?"

"11,3%. Through nine different companies. But if we don't stop it, it will be up to 20% by the end of the year."

Jungkook leaned back and looked around the coffee shop. Silence hung between them. Jungkook's phone vibrated. It was a call from his mother. He pressed the block button to keep the vibration from disturbing him.

"That's how Kang Tehwon decided to act," Jungkook said, more to himself than to the other man, "He wants unification. But on equal terms."

"Yeah, it looks like it," Kwon replied cautiously. He cleared his throat nervously and continued, "Forgive me for being rude, Jungkook-sajinim, but is it related to the fact that your engagement to Kang Sukhi was not announced because of, well..." he stopped talking before he could say more. Jungkook smiled as he touched his lips to the cup. The flavor of the coffee blossomed on his tongue and made Jungkook feel better.

"The refusal to get engaged with his daughter wasn’t the root cause. But the active stock purchases over the past week may include it," Jungkook said. "Kang Tehwon started doing this before he and my father decided to merge the companies."

Kwon Munho took a sip as he watched Jungkook carefully.

"Does Mr. Jeon know that you're researching this?"

Jungkook looked up at the man who worked in the accounting department of the Busan branch of the ‘Jeon Group’.

"No, my father doesn't know. That's why I asked for the meeting to be confidential." Jungkook leaned on the table, staring intently into Kwon's face, "I have to gather all the evidence first and then give it to my father. Please keep our meeting a secret. I promise I won't be in your debt."

Kwon tilted his head, approving of Jungkook's seriousness. He was a man who understood well how big money and powerful families worked. He had also been raised in a business environment, so he respected people like Jungkook for their strategic thinking and ability to work in the shadows. But he still couldn't help but be surprised by the determination of the heir to ‘Jeon Group’.

"Of course, Jungkook-sajanim. I understand the importance of confidentiality. And I don't plan to violate your agreement with your father." Kwon replied calmly and handing over a small gray flash drive out of his breast pocket and handed it to Jungkook. "Here is a flash drive with all the data: transfers, sales, and names." He putting the tablet aside. His gaze became more focused.

Jungkook took the flash drive and put it in his pants pocket.

"Good." he leaned back, running his fingers through his hair. "One more question. Are any of the buyers directly related to anyone on the ‘Jeon Group’ board of directors?"

Kwon tapped a few times on his tablet, scrolling through the lists. Then he stopped and looked at Jungkook again.

"I suspect that the chairman of the finance committee, Mr. Min Sang-ho, has connections through a third party intermediary company. On paper, it looks clean, but the money transfers are strange - through the same channels as ‘Taemin Holdings’."

Jungkook looked down, inhaling slowly as if he was holding back anger.

"He voted to change the dividend policy last month... That explains a lot..."

Kwon leaned a little closer.

"Are you going to confront them openly?"

"Not yet. But when the time comes, I'll be ready," Jungkook replied coldly, calmly, with the kind of depth in his voice we’re only comes from those who are used to winning. "I told my father that Kang Tehwon is not a reliable partner, so I have to gather evidence that he doesn't just want the merger... he wants an equal share of the ownership of the company, and perhaps he wants more."

Kwon nodded slowly as he finished his coffee. Jungkook did not linger. After hearing what Kwon had to say, he stood up, leaving the coffee money on the table.

"Thank you, Kwon-nim. Contact me if you will know anything else. And also..." he held his gaze, "Don't trust anyone at the central office. Even if you think they're on our side."

"Understood, sajanim."

Jungkook bowed and walked toward the exit, leaving a scent of perfume in the air behind him - subtle, deep, like his aura.

Around six in the evening, a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up quietly outside a familiar high-rise building in Seoul. The sun was still hanging over the horizon, casting a soft golden light on the windows of the buildings. The sky was clear, with a hint of evening chill, the peachy blue hues were just beginning to appear on the horizon, reminding that the day was coming to an end.

Jungkook turned off another business call without looking at the screen and turned to you. You looked a little tired after the trip, with the same slight tension in your shoulders that he had learned to notice.

"Thank you..." you said first, "I really appreciate your help."

Your gaze slipped to the side, and Jungkook noticed how you were trying to avoid eye contact. He wanted to kiss you. Is it normal for him to want to do that? And can he do it whenever he wants?

He reached for you. You didn't move away when his hand slid down your jaw and he stopped a centimeter from your lips. Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay with it. And when you closed your eyes, expecting a kiss, he smiled and finally touched your lips.

They were soft, slightly dry. Jungkook moved his lips, tasting each of your pads in turn. His fingers slipped into your hair, pulling you closer, and you barely gave in. He stuck his tongue in your mouth, and that light, gentle kiss easily became greedy, deep, demanding. You grabbed Jungkook's hand, squeezing it. He felt his cock throbbing. You make him so easily aroused.

Jungkook could feel your fingers trembling slightly on his arm. And though he wanted to do more - to immerse himself in your taste, in your touch, in your soft, pliable body - he broke the kiss with an effort.

"You've already thanked me more than once," he winked, sitting up straight and stretching his lips into a satisfied smile. Jungkook glanced at his phone, which was silently glowing with several missed calls from "mom" contact and a message: "Talk to me, now." He sighed and ignored the screen again. His mother could wait. But business could not.

"Are you going to the office?" you asked, distracting him from the heavy thoughts that immediately flooded his mind after he tore his lips from yours.

"I have another online meeting and a few things to do at the office. What, did you want me to stay?" Jungkook asked playfully as he leaned into you.

You raised your eyebrows and grabbed your backpack as if to hide behind it.

"No, you've already gotten your daily allowance of pleasure, so calm down, Jeon Jungkook," you said sarcastically.

"My daily allowance is much bigger than that, kitten, and if it weren't for the office, I'd love to get it in full," he smiled slyly and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"You're a maniac..." you said quietly. And then you quickly opened the car door, running away from Jungkook.

"See you later?" he shouted at your back, leaning over the seat where you had been a moment before. You froze in a half-turn.

"Not tonight, I have to survive to play the role of your girlfriend," you replied ironically and walked away without waiting for him to answer.

Jungkook watched your figure slowly disappear into the entrance. Something stirred in his chest, pleasant and exciting. He shook his head, smiling, and gripped the steering wheel. The engine roared to life, and the Mercedes moved off. Jungkook pressed a button and the window closed, cutting him off from the warm evening air.

The dark glass of the door of the ‘Jeon Group’ office building reflected the glare of the headlights of the car that pulled into the underground parking lot. Jungkook, a little tired but focused, got out of the car, clutching his phone and carkeys from the car.

Manager Lee was already waiting for him - strict but always calm, with a quiet, measured voice that rarely went to any emotional extreme. The only person Jungkook truly trusted. Not just as a professional, but as a person who knew him too well - and even better than he knew himself.

"How was your trip?" Lee asked with a barely-there smile as they walked down the hallway to the office.

"Very productive," Jungkook replied briefly, but there was a hidden satisfaction in his voice. It wasn't just the conversation about Kang Tehwon, but also the time he spent with you. Manager Lee knew where Jungkook had gone and with whom.

"You look... happy." Lee glanced sideways. "I assume that Y/N-shi also contributed to the efficiency of the trip?"

Jungkook smiled at the very corners of his lips.

"Not without it." He opened the office door after greeting his secretary and stepped inside. "What's the schedule?"

"You only have one online meeting left for today. Also..." Manager Lee pulled out his phone, "I've had several calls from your mother..."

Jungkook stopped near his chair, frowning slightly.

"And?" he remembered how she had terrorized his phone all day, and he had ignored her.

"I told her you were in a meeting. She doesn't know you went to Busan."

"Good." Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief as he nodded. But not for long. "So what did she want?"

"Asked me to get free your evening. She wants to have dinner with you... and Sukhi."

Jungkook sat down at the table and leaned back in his leather chair. His head hurt just thinking about the dinner. Talk of an engagement he didn't want, was tired him.

"Why won't they leave me alone?" he grumbled, closing his eyes.

Manager Lee did not answer. He just stood there in silence, as he always did, knowing when to give Jungkook space.

The silence lasted for a few more seconds until Jungkook grabbed the phone, unlocked the screen, and tapped your name. He had an idea.

"Hello," Jungkook heard your voice on the other end of the line.

"Is the kitten busy?" he asked you, looking at Manager Lee, who stood perfectly still, not a muscle in his face moving.

"I'm taking a bath, what do you want?" Jungkook swayed in his chair, turning away from the manager.

"Oh... if I can video call you?" he asked, lowering his voice. You clicked your tongue.

"Jungkook, say what you want or I'm hanging up," you warned. Jungkook heard the water splashing. He imagined it enveloping your beautiful body and your skin shining.

"You shouldn't have said no, but I'm calling for a reason. Kitten, take a bath, put on something nice. In 15 minutes my manager will come to pick you up, I need you in the office."

"You mean in the office? Why?" you were surprised.

"I'll explain when you get here."

"We just got here, Jungkook, I'm tired after the trip, can I come tomorrow?" you asked protesting.

"No kitten, you must to be here in exactly half an hour." Jungkook said firmly. He heard you exhale a doomed breath.

"What should I wear?" you asked. A smile touched his lips again. His fingers slid gently along the edge of the table as he turned to face the table. His gaze rested for a moment on his own reflection in the black screen.

"Dress like we're going on a date," Jungkook replied.

"I usually wear a T-shirt and jeans, is that okay?" you asked wryly.

"If you feel comfortable wearing those clothes in an expensive restaurant, then of course you can dress like that, kitten," Jungkook replied shortly. There was a subtle irony in his voice. You exhaled nervously into the phone again.

"Okay, I'll be ready in 15 minutes."

"I'm waiting for you," he said. You disconnected first. "Manager Lee, please bring Y/N here. And call my mother and tell her that I have to be at the office in 30 minutes and that you're cleared my schedule." Manager Lee bowed silently with his hands folded behind his back.

"So, Jungkook-nim, is your mother planning to meet your ‘girlfriend’?" he asked and Jungkook noticed a hint of amusement in his voice.

Jungkook just hummed, not answering right away. His fingers found the edge of the table again, sliding along it as if looking for support. Then he looked up at Lee and smiled wryly.

"With any luck... it'll just be a way to avoid dinner with her and Sukhi."

"Understood," he didn't ask any more questions, he was used to trusting Jungkook's decision without question, "I'll bring her in in 30 minutes," the manager bowed slightly and walked out, leaving Jungkook in the silence of the office.

Half an hour later, the office door was barely open. Manager Lee walked in first.

"Jungkook-nim Y/N, here."

Jungkook looked up from his tablet, and his fingers hovered over the screen.

You were standing in the aisle. You were wearing a short cream dress made of textured fabric that looked both elegant and sexy. The dress was tightly fitted around your waist, emphasizing your figure, and fell in light waves to your hips. The front row of mother-of-pearl buttons added sophistication.

On top of it you wore a short jacket of the same material with sharp lapels, which gave the image of severity, Small flap pockets emphasized the lines of the hips, creating an even more elegant silhouette. You wore white sandals on feet.

You completed the look with thin gold chains around your neck, which sparkled delicately as you turned your head to look around the office as you walked inside. Your makeup was neutral, barely shimmering.

Jungkook was mesmerized by your appearance. You were beautiful, too beautiful for him to just sit at his desk. He stood up and stopped a step away from you. You didn't look pleased, and he could clearly see the irritation on your face. Jungkook wanted to erase that expression with a kiss.

"Manager Lee, thank you for bringing me the Y/N. You can go now," Jungkook said, keeping his eyes on you.

Manager Lee gave you a curious look, bowed, and walked out.

"You asked me to look like we're going on a date," you said as you stepped aside, your posture a little tense. "Do I look appropriate?" you returned as you approached his desk. Without waiting for him to answer, you began to look around his office, touching the things on his desk,

Jungkook was silent. He couldn't answer right away. He looked at you and realized that not a single woman had ever looked as attractive in his eyes as you. His eyes greedily traced your figure, and he almost forgot how to breathe.

Jungkook slowly approached you, stopping a behind you. His voice was a little hoarse when he finally spoke.

"You look... dangerously appropriate." His arms went around your waist and he pressed against you, inhaling the scent of your perfume. It was sweet, reminding him of apricot. He touched your skin with his nose and inhaled deeply.

"Jungkook," you said quietly, nervous grabbing his hands, stopping him. "What are you doing? What if someone comes in..."

Jungkook kissed your earlobe, biting it lightly.

"That's my plan..." he mumbled, holding you tighter.

"What do you mean?" you asked, turning your head to him. Jungkook's lips were very close. His eyes looked at your plump pink lips, which he wanted to kiss.

"My mother should be here soon with Sukhi, they wanted to pick me up to have dinner... But I'm busy, I'm going out with my girlfriend,"

Your eyes rounded.

"You're doing it again, Jeon?" you exploded, taking a half-step away from him. Jungkook let you step back. "Why didn't you just say your mother will be here?" you crossed your arms over your chest, throwing lightning bolts at him. "I should have known! I would have at least prepared myself mentally!"

He looked at you calmly, but something flashed in his eyes-something hungry and determined.

"I knew you would react like this," Jungkook whispered, taking a step forward.

"You know and you're always deliberately doing this to spite me." you claimed colorlessly.

Jungkook did not answer. He just came closer, grabbed you by the waist, and pushed you against the table with one decisive movement. Before you could even say anything else, he lifted you up and sat you on the edge, standing between your legs. His hands held your hips tightly, and his eyes, dark and full of desire, never let go of your gaze.

"You don't have to worry, kitten. I'm just going to show you to my mother. It won't take more than a minute. And then we'll go..."

"I don't..." you tried to say something, but he wouldn't let you. His lips covered yours in a passionate kiss that you hadn't expected, but he had wanted from the moment you entered the office.

You wanted to push him away, wanted to run away, but his arms wouldn't let go. He liked to catch you. Every time you tried to run away, he caught you. It gave him a sickly, sweet pleasure.

Jungkook kissed you, deeper, harder. His fingers slid up your thighs, and your back arched involuntarily - and he couldn't help but think how pliable you were when his lips were on yours.

At that moment, the office door suddenly opened.

"Jungkook-ah, son..." a familiar, cold female voice said.

Jungkook reluctantly pulled away, but it was too late.

Standing at the door to the office were his mother - elegant, reserved, with perfect posture - and Sukhi, who looked like she had just swallowed a lemon. Both were looking at you in silence. At you sitting on the desk and at Jungkook still standing between your legs.

⇠ Previous ⟡ Index ➩ ⟡ Next ⇢

[all-pacas]

okay but. something about how cameron cannot stand for liars, or cheats, or shortcuts: her entire stated philosophy from occam's razor to spin is that you can control your actions, that you need to, that hunting points out she's unhappy, she's quite literally repressed — that she needs the excuse of meth to break out of that shell and do something she wants (again, whether it be chase specifically or just to have some fun).

cameron holds herself and others to impossibly high standards. control your actions. be good. be kind. be trusting. she cannot stand the patient in spin for his cheating, despite him being an otherwise very pleasant and polite person; she turns on ezra in informed consent when his past bad actions (and unapologetic embrace of them) come to light. she tries to be a good person, she tries to force the world around her to be good -- she also is brutal when she is disappointed. she spends years elevating/loving house as the idealized figure -- she's not wrong when she sees him, but she very much highlights his more heroic aspects and overlooks his mistakes, and then in turn we see with s3 and tritter how fast she turns against house: he is no longer meeting her expectations. she is angry. she yanks herself away. she forgives him (when, in her eyes, he seems to make amends to wilson), but we see her turn away again in human error, again and with finality in teamwork: she will not stand for liars. she doesn't compromise. cameron acts as judge and executioner: she is cold to foreman when he acts unethically towards her, she is cold to house after tritter, she can be nasty to patients who have betrayed her judgement. she is not a hypocrite -- she'll forgive people who try to make amends, she holds herself to these same standards as best she can. but she is sharp and uncompromising.

and it's interesting that cameron did, in fact, compromise those ideals once. and it's debatable how much she "meant" it, how long it would have stuck -- people don't change easily, cameron is stubborn to a fault. but she tried to forgive murder. she wanted to forgive chase. she told him that the lying was fine (it wasn't), the murder was fine (it wasn't), that they could go on together and have a life in chicago. i think cameron was completely sincere in the moment, but i do doubt she would have sustained that in the long term, you know?

working for house, cameron's morals erode in bits, but she always fights it and reverts and pushes back on attempts to change her. house wanted so badly to change and mold her and have her come around to his cynical perspective, and cameron always refuses: she equally wants house to change, to come around to her perspective, and grows frustrated and disillusioned every time house backslides or rejects or cheats: this push and pull, and this rejection, is what ultimately leads her to leave the show. it is a rejection of house and everything he stands for, but also a recognition of him right down to his core: he corrupts people. he changes them. (interestingly, in s8, chase will say nearly the same thing.) and cameron will not be corrupted. and she will not keep fighting for a lost cause. cameron and house have this amazing bond/push and pull, challenging one another and trying to bring the other around. but they're equally stubborn, they're equally lost causes. cameron gives up on him repeatedly. she forgives him repeatedly. she leaves princeton because she realizes it's a battle she'll never win (and she has to win). but you know who she fights to keep?

for chase, she was willing to throw everything she believed in away. even just for a minute. even if it was naive and doomed to fail. and that's. something. she can't stand liars and the immoral and the corrupt, but she wanted, so badly, to forgive chase.

[slaaverin]

To me Jungkook is a little bit the epitome of what BTS represent. Basically they are people for me "that are good at being human". I know it may sound weird like that.

But sometimes in life you see people that are obviously struggling with certain aspects of the human experience (with their bodies or socially or mentally ect.)

Jungkook for me has it all, he has a natural authenticity (Not afraid to he himself, express his opinions, be quiet or loud or funny when he wants to). He has also an open and gentle heart that shines and that gives a beautiful sense of purity. Which is a rare thing to observe. (It means he's not only a human, he is a human with an already evolved consciousness). He's also very creative, driven, combative when challenges arises, he pushes himself to be the best in everything he does. It's a also a rare quality and it's something that can only be developped over many lifetimes.

He's confident and shows an ease being himself under the spotlight. (Which not many people are able to do, if this much fame happened to us many of us would go completely insane). So it shows a very good mental stability (he even says he doesn't think too much) and to achieve a mental stability like this oh man the soul needs to WORK. And not a little bit I swear.

When the mental is under huge pressure like this, to keep it stable you need a certain amount of inner power and level of consciousness and once again that develops through maaaany lifetimes.

You can also see how good he is at being human with his bodily mastery.

Really, nobody who is a human for the first time can control their body like he does.

And he is not only perfectly under control of his body, he even PROJECT ENERGY out into the world.

The "power" we feel from him moving is actual energy he projects out.

That energy is received by the collective and that is why many people are drawned to him, it's like moths to a flame.

You know what it takes to do this?????

It's a lot. A lot of work.

So yeah, he's not simply a talented human, he actually mastered the human experience, through lifetimes of hard work on himself, and whatever he shows up to be in this lifetime, it's only the example of someone who did.

People can feel this intuitively. First they think wow how can he be so good? So kind, so pure? So talented? So exceptional? Well, there's a reason. He wasn't born like this just by random chance.

He should inspire people because he is a bit of a lightpost for people to follow. It gives people motivation to become better in general.

He's also a stamp that says "here's what you can expect when you evolve your consciousness": you shine bright, with a pure heart, a complete mastery of your body and mind, and you actually can change the world with your skills (whatever they are since it's different from person to person).

BTS is special in that way. But Jungkook even more so. He's the pillar of everything. It's earthy and rooted and stable. (People like stability.)

He has also a good balance of feminine/masculine energy which reminds people of their own true essence. Balance of both polarity is only achieved through evolution of consciousness, people have both polarities but usually one polarity is dominant over the other, and it takes work and evolution and integration to have them both balanced like he does. So of course people are fascinated bcs secretly every soul wants that here. We all crave for union and Jungkook is a reminder of that state. It's the name of the game.

So to see someone who have achieved this, it is quite astonishing and inspiring! It makes people go "this is great, why everybody isn't like that, I want more people like that" yes because people SHOULD AND WILL be all like this eventually. It only takes a loooot of time and inner work.

Anyway, overall Jungkook is a well-rounded beautiful person that shows a great level of enlightenment so no wonder people are attracted to that...that's literally the direction we are all taking...

But he must have gone through some shit (more than we can even imagine) to reach that point. So really, he deserves all the applauses 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

i always explained jungkook’s popularity not by him being the youngest or very buff solely but through the fact that he is much more comfortable and involved with his bodily existence than the majority of us and its (sadly) rare or surprising that a high-pressure famous person thinks and acts like that too, which is how - besides being a very gifted singer and dancer - jungkook tends to fascinate and positively inspire people a lot

[sissylittlefeather]

Kink Madness: Round 6

Marking vs Size Kink

Also known as Walter vs Walter. We're back to the Power Division for this round and it's a good one. The first one is Walter Hale from The Trouble with Girls and the second one is Walter Gulick (part 3! Find parts 1 and 2 here) from Kid Galahad. Enjoy! Don't forget to vote and reblog!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut obviously, there's some biting/giving of hickeys, and reader is pregnant in one.

Marking: Walter Hale

You've been with the Chautauqua (and Walter) for almost a year now. He picked you up in a small town in Ohio when you helped him organize a local substitute act for his show. The way you handled everything with grace and a little too much charm caught his attention and he hasn't looked away since.

Not until today, that is. There's a new dancer in the vaudeville act and she's too pretty to be safe. You watch as he compliments her legs and thanks her for bringing in customers. He's genuinely just thrilled to be making money, but in your head and your heart, you can't imagine he's not going to leave you for her. At first, there's a pang of sadness at the thought of losing him, but that pang catches fire and becomes a smoldering pit of anger pretty quickly. How dare he?

So what do you do? You find the group of college boys and lay it on thick, just close enough to him that you know he can see you. They're bewildered, turned on, and more than a little terrified that the boss man’s girl is flirting with them, but they soak up your energy like little sex-deprived sponges.

“So which one of you is the best kisser?” You giggle and bat your lashes and they trip over themselves to answer you. Yale is the loudest.

“Now honey, how would we know that?” Walter’s eyes narrow as you giggle and stroke the young man’s arm. Rutgers speaks up.

“Yeah, sweetheart. We don't exactly kiss each other!” He laughs a little too loud.

“Awww you're tellin' me you've never had a girl kiss all of you?” You bite your bottom lip and Walter's teeth clench around his cigar. The boys all laugh nervously and shake their heads. Now it's Princeton's turn.

“You volunteering, baby?” He licks his lips as you blush and boldly reaches up to tuck some of your bobbed hair behind your ear. That's when Walter materializes over your shoulder.

“You enjoyin’ yourselves, fellas?” Their eyes go wide and they stutter anxiously, trying to assure him they weren't doing anything inappropriate. But you're not ready to give in, so you double down. You turn and look him dead in the eyes and giggle.

“We were just debating who was the best kisser among them.” His lips curl into a dangerous smirk.

“So I heard. Did you figure it out?” All four of the guys shake their heads wildly. Amherst manages to respond.

“N-no sir! We were just talking. Just talking. That's all.” Walter doesn't take his eyes off of you.

“Why don't you boys go find something else to do?” They scatter like roaches, leaving you there alone with him. “What are you up to, kitten?”

You turn to him lazy and slow, your eyes meeting his. “Oh, I don't know. How's the new dancer?”

He growls low in his throat. “She's a real moneymaker. Is that what this is about?”

“You sure seem to like her.”

“You sure seem to like the college boys.” There's a couple of moments where you just stare at each other before he grabs your arm, not hard enough to hurt but strong enough to let you know he's in charge. “I think you need to remember whose you are.”

He pulls you towards his tent and you follow along without a fight. This is the first time you've really challenged him and you're not sure how he might respond. He pushes you in in front of him and then closes the tent behind himself.

“Walter, I–”

“No, kitten. You don't need to speak.” He brushes your bottom lip with his thumb. His hands travel lower and he undresses you, not unkindly, but also with an authority that you don't contradict. When he's got you naked, he sets you on the desk in front of him, still fully dressed in his white suit. He leans in and kisses you hard and deep, pulling back only after he knows he's wrecked you. “You know you're mine. And I'm yours.”

You open your mouth to speak and he puts his finger on your lips again. Then he leans forward and sucks on a place on your collarbone. You moan softly as he works, obviously trying to leave a mark. When he pulls back, he admires the purple bruise.

“Think I'm gonna mark you up good, kitten. Remind you who you belong to. What do you think of that?”

“I–”

“That's what I thought.” His hand on your lower back causes your body to arch as he sinks his teeth into the flesh under your breast.

“Oh! Walter!” He licks the spot gingerly, satisfied with his handiwork.

“Lay back, kitten. Let daddy work.” You obey, laying back on the desk as he moves down your body, sucking and nipping as he pleases. He bites your inner thigh hard and you whimper and moan.

“Daddy, please…”

“Hush, kitten.” He moves to the other side and sucks on the spot hard enough to leave another bruise. “I want you to look in the mirror and know this body belongs to me. Just like I belong to you.”

“Y-yes, daddy.”

“Good girl. Now get on your knees.” You scramble off the table and into position in front of him. He unzips his white pants and frees his aching cock, one hand under your chin and the other holding himself as he lays the tip against your bottom lip. “Open up.”

You do as you're told and he pushes the head of his dick into your mouth. He moans low and deep as you take him into your throat, pressing your nose into the patch of hair at the base of him. “Good girl. That's my kitten.”

He groans, taking a fistful of your hair as he thrusts slowly into your mouth. You moan around him, you center dripping wet as you suck him off.

“That's it, kitten. Who do you belong to?” He pulls his cock out to let you answer.

“You, daddy.”

“That's right.” He caresses your chin and then moves his thumb up to your cheek as he pushes into your mouth again. “So good, kitten.”

You lick and suck him deeply, bouncing on him as he moves his hips slowly against you. He groans and then pulls out of you, standing you up and turning you to bend over the desk. You feel him tease your entrance and whimper.

“So wet for me, kitten. Those other boys make you wet like this?”

“N-no. Just you, daddy.”

“That's what I thought.” He wraps his hands around your hips and pushes into you from behind. “You take me so well, kitten.”

You moan and push back against him. He holds you still, his fingers grasping you in a bruising grip. “I'm gonna make sure you remember this. Gonna mark you up good, let you remember that you're mine.”

He pumps into you harder and harder and you're sure you'll have bruises on your hips in the morning. You feel your climax start to close in and moan desperately. “And not just on the outside. I'm gonna fill you with me until it drips down your thighs while you try to work. Whose are ya, kitten?”

“Yours, daddy! Oh!” Your legs shake as your orgasm crashes into you and you cum hard on his dick. He grunts with the sensation of your pussy squeezing him.

“That's right. And I'm yours. All. Yours.” He punctuates each word with a thrust and then slams into you hard, his cock pulsing as he fills you with himself, spilling so deep. He holds you still for a second, before pulling out and standing you up against his chest. You feel his cum start to drip and squeeze your thighs together. “That's it, kitten. Feel that? Are you mine?”

“Y-yes. I'm yours, Walter.” He turns you to face him and grabs your chin.

“You gonna flirt in front of me like that again?”

“No, daddy. Never again.”

“Good girl. Put your dress back on. We have work to do.” You nod and pick your dress up to slide it back over your head. Before you do, though, he brushes his thumb over the marks he's left on your body. “Mine.”

You whimper and slide your dress back on. He helps you straighten and smooth it and then kisses your forehead. “You know I love you, kitten. You're my girl. No vaudeville dancer is gonna take that away from us. You trust me?”

You look up at him for a second and then think of the marks he's left on your body. “Yes, Walter.”

“You love me?” There's a hint of vulnerability in his voice and you realize he's just as scared to lose you as you are to lose him. You take his face in both hands and kiss his nose.

“I love you so much.” His face breaks into a smile. “And if I forget, I've got a dozen marks and you sliding down my thighs to remind me.”

“Good.” He slaps your ass and kisses your neck. “We've got a show to run. Come on, kitten.”

The marks on your body ache a little in the best way possible and you nod.

“Yes sir, boss man.”

“Careful. You keep talkin’ like that and I'll start all over again.”

“You promise?” He chuckles.

“You bet, kitten. Any time.”

******

Size Kink: Walter Gulick

You've only been married six months and you're already pregnant. It didn't take Walter long to fill you up good at just the right time. He'd been dying to do it since the first time you were together anyway. And now you're here, trying desperately to find a pair of pants you can zip or a dress that doesn't show your growing bump.

You're standing in front of the mirror about to cry when Walter comes in from his job at the garage.

“Baby, what’re you doin’? You okay?”

“No! I'm huge. None of my clothes fit. And I hate it.” You try to pull your pants closed again to demonstrate what you're saying and then sigh deeply, your throat thick with tears.

“Ya look good to me, babe. I like you rounded out a little. It's sexy.” He walks up behind you and runs his giant hands over your belly and you cringe.

“I was so tiny when we got together. I feel like a whale.”

“Honey, you're still tiny.”

“No I’m not.” You look down at the floor and try not to cry.

“Yeah y’are. You need me ta prove it?”

“How you gonna do that?” He leans in to whisper in your ear, like he can't stand for anyone to hear what he's about to say.

“With this big cock.” A shiver runs over your body from head to toe. You lean your head back against his chest and he knows you're saying yes. “Lemme show ya.”

In a second, he has your bra, pants, and panties off and his finger on your clit. You moan softly as his other hand finds your breast and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Look at how big my hand is on ya, baby.” He looks at you in the mirror and your eyes drift to where he's touching you. You really do look small with his hands covering you. “Don't even need clothes. I can cover all of ya with just my hands.”

And then he does, with one hand hiding your pussy and the other arm across your breasts. You gasp a little and he grunts. “My tiny little thing.”

He pulls back just long enough to get himself naked behind you, dwarfing you where he stands with your head leaned back on his chest. You can feel his massive cock where it presses against your ass and lower back. “Put your hands on the mirror and watch, baby.”

You do as you're told, leaning forward to take hold of the framed glass, and then look down between your legs. His dick is enormous where you can see it through your thighs. He teases your entrance with the head of it, his knees bent. “Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Make you see how tiny you are with this cock inside you.”

“Walter!” You moan and blush. He's never talked this dirty before and it's got you dripping in anticipation. You whimper as he starts to push into you, spreading your legs to try to give him more room.

“See, honey? Your little pussy can barely take me. Look.” You watch in the mirror as his cock stretches you slowly. Even after almost two years of fucking him, it still takes a while for him to fit inside you all the way. He gets within an inch and moans loudly. “So tight and tiny, baby.”

“I don't know if I can– OH GOD.” He snaps his hips and rams the last inch of himself up inside you and you almost collapse against the mirror.

“Did I hurt ya?” You look at him over your shoulder in the glass and his eyebrows are pulled together in concern.

“Fuck, no. Walter. Jesus. You're so big.”

“Am I big or are you small?” He leans in to kiss the back of your neck and your shoulder, pulling out and then filling you again in once smooth motion.

“I'm not sure, but goddamn it feels good.” You moan and arch your back as he starts to slide in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“You're small, baby. Just a tiny li’l thing. Taking this cock so well.”

“Fuck.” He smiles and blushes behind you in the mirror. You can tell he's outside his comfort zone talking like this, but some part of him is really enjoying it. His hands hold your hips in a bruising grip as he pumps into you from behind. You watch in the mirror as he moves in and out of you.

“See? I told ya. You're so pretty like this, honey. Round with my baby and still so small. You like it baby?”

“Y-yes… I love it… it's so good.” He continues to drive into you from behind, using his hands to pull you back onto his dick, your eyes almost crossing from the sensation of being stretched so well.

“And you see that you're so little?” You can tell by how his voice deepens that he's getting closer to his climax. Your orgasm is gathering in your hips too and you can barely respond.

“Yes… so… fuck… tiny…”

“Good. Now cum for me baby. Cum on this dick.”

“W-Walter! Ohhhhh!” You groan and squirm as your release blazes through you like an electric current.

“Good girl. Now it's my… turn… fuck.” You gasp and look at him in the mirror. He's never cussed before. But you don't have long to ponder it as he slams into you and pumps his seed into you. You feel him twitch as he does and then his breathing slows and he pulls you back against his chest. “Tiny li’l thing. Mine.”

You giggle a little and reach back to run your fingers in his hair.

“Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

“Still me, baby. Just wanted you to know how bad I want you. How much I love you. Was that okay?” You giggle again.

“Walter, that was better than okay.”

“Good. Now will you believe me when I say you're tiny? And no matter how big you get, you'll always be small to me.” He wraps his arms around you and presses his lips to your neck.

“Yes, baby. I believe you. And I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. My tiny little thing.”

“Yours, Walter. Always, always yours.”

******

Reblog please, besties! 🩷

Taglist:

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[basedkikuenjoyer]

Maternophobia

I could use our bone boi getting stepped on, head cruelly cocked back so he can't see dem panties. Part of me wanted the image to be them all tied with with Nami hilariously giving Jinbei shit because he's supposed to be able to handle things. But no. Boney get a "whiteout" panel and that makes this a true red-letter day. This is subtle, but it is exactly what I wanted to see out of Brook & Gunko. He seems to recognize something about her. He's able to learn she's a fan. So even given this tense situation, he's very polite in his rejection to be a music slave. But specifically highlighting how Luffy gave him a new lease on life.

We've established the idea that Gunko might be somewhat a victim in the sense of never really knowing she had a choice. Brook is providing proof that circumstances can change and relationships can change them. Do you know how badly I wanted Brook to have a moment like this with Kiku? Obviously Gunko is an antagonist and that makes things very different in a lot of ways, but I love how even the framing here and following that bit from Nami serve to highlight what we talked about last time. Brook is getting a chance to show where his specific experience and wisdom can do what Jinbei cannot. And that is something very cool and very hard to express so I want to highlight it and admire it when it happens.

With that out of the way...iconic. You know what? No. It's peak "Wife Bad" Boomer Humor™ but it works because it is so unabashedly peak Boomer Humor™ and doesn't feel like it needs to put on pretentious airs of justifying itself. This is hilarious. The real monsters have awoken from the children's dreams...THEIR MOTHERS!!!

Fuck it, based. I have mother issues, stopped being scared of a pathetic drunk as I got older but when I was a kid that shit was terrifying. I don't think these giant moms are that bad, but they sure seem strict and imposing. A serious challenge indeed. We also have Spooky Gregg back hanging around a few panels so that's nice. It seems our eulogy was premature. But he is already a ghost so it's never fully inaccurate to honor his memory.

Jokes and personal trauma aside, there's a bit more thematic harmony with this gag than just lol scary moms. A land like Elbaph is now where kids are well behaved and focused on education kinda sounds like a land of strict, strong moms keeping them in line. Not a huge deal, the gag is good on its own, if they were actually Dorry/Brogy's wives I'd be on their side because you better not have run of on a 100yr duel if you're married. But it does connect more to what's going on than just being a silly goof.

Speaking of cool, very impressive Collun. He's jumped up to the front of the line and willingly got involved in the compulsion to follow the arrow just for a chance to help and keep things calm. Down below with Ripley & Scopper finding this out is hilarious...and kinda feeds back into that point about parents. Gaban's all like, hell yeah that's mah boy. Ripley's not having it and demanding he go save the kid. Hilarious and they're cute together.

And it leads to the cool part at the end! Sure there's a former Roger Pirate heavyweight jumping into the fray but they have angered the Devil Child and that is not a smart thing to do if you like things like being alive. I will never ever ever not love the series treating Robin like a core threat on the Straw Hats rather than a smart pawn to try and capture. Show Saul how far you've come by showing how fiercely you'll protect the friends you've found girl.

[wwwdamerc]

Pretty Boy - Marvey fic idea

I am thinking of combining two of my ideas into one.

Harvey Specter is a successful, established, critically acclaimed actor, doing movies only if he loves the script. Mike does commercial rom-coms. The new script is called "Pretty Boy". (The detective and hooker idea, which I have posted before in one of my previous posts). The director, Jessica, wants Mike to play the part of hooker. Harvey doesn't think he can do it justice... A long fic which combines two co-actors falling in love while simultaneously their characters, the detective and a hooker do the same. It will have slight enemies to lovers arc. I'll develop both the stories in same fic, characters names will be Harlen and Mark (keeping it close to Harvey and Mike)

Here's a little snippet of the fic:

“I must be in this film. I must.”

“I knew you’d say that.” Donna smirked. “So, you want me to call Jessica?”

“Tell her I’ll read the lines if she wants.”

“Oh, you’re stooping to read for a role?”

“For this one, I’ll read.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to. You’re the actor she wants.”

“I don’t care if she pays me less. I must do this.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this excited about a part.”

“It’s a fantastic part. I can see where this Benjamin guy drew some inspiration from me. Besides the crime, the suspense, the subtle romance. It’s interesting.”

“I’m glad you’re reacting this way. And I don’t think you’ll have to settle for less.”

“Have they cast the other role? Who do they want for Mark?”

“I’m not really…”

“Because I have some ideas about that."

“Harvey-”

"Dylan Sprouse, he’s perfect for it, I bet he’d love this part –“

“Harvey!”

“What?”

Donna sighs. “I fear you’re not going to like this. There’s been no offer made, but the casting director told me that Jessica wants Mike Ross.”

Harvey’s stomach dropped. “What?”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” He muttered, rolling and unrolling the script in his hands.

“Shut up,” Donna snapped, handing him his coffee. “You’ve got to play this part.”

“If they cast this idiot, the movie’s sunk. All this potential? All this brilliance in these pages? Mike Ross will piss all over it with forced acting and obvious choices. This calls for subtlety, not the tooth rotting over acting of a man who only knows how to do so-called adorable banter with the lead of his nth chick flick.”

“He did some really interesting character work when he started out, you know.”

“And how long has it been since he’s been asked to do anything more challenging than a Meet Cute?”

“He’s an actor, just like you.”

“He’s a generic boy-next-door, the die-cast Unthreatening Male. I need a co-star with a bit more edge to him. Give me something to act against! He’s a fucking piece of wood!”

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I read Robert Jobson's biography, Catherine, Princess of Wales this week.

The anon was right - if you've followed William and Kate closely, there's very little new information or big reveals. The book reads more like a research survey/review of all the articles and public records available about Kate rather than his own work or investigative journalism about Kate. And because there aren't many real reveals, it feels a little unauthorized to me. Let me explain - usually when the rota writes a book like this or a major piece in honor of a milestone event, the writer will typically contact the palace and the palace will give them a list of names they can interview or use on background. So because there's really nothing new, I'm not sure that this book had that kind of cooperation from the palace.

I'd call it a great book if you're not very familiar with Kate and would like to know more about who she is, the work she does, and how she fits into the BRF. But also make sure you read it with some salt because Jobson does pass off Harry's book as fact (i.e., I'm pretty sure the only people who believe that William and Kate were fans of Suits is Harry. Given the few TV shows we know they've watched, Suits doesn't strike me as something in their repertoire.).

Some new-to-me reveals:

William and Kate lived on their own for their third and fourth years at St. Andrews. (I thought they'd always lived with their friends.)

Michael Middleton also had health challenges in 2024 that also required surgery, which led to William and Kate leaning more on Pippa and the Jameses for a bit till Michael was back on his feet.

Charles was diagnosed with his prostate issues in 2022 but felt he couldn't undergo treatment then because Her Late Majesty had just died and it would've caused a public crisis. (I'm really side-eyeing him/BP now for this, and I'm also wondering if the delayed treatment means his cancer spread/is more complicated than initially reported.)

Harry and Meghan were offered Adelaide Cottage when they were moving to Windsor but chose Frogmore Cottage instead.

KP drafted a statement about photogate to be from both William and Kate but William refused to release it since he had no part in it so the statement was amended to be just from Kate. (Which is honestly kind of fucked up of William. Dude, your wife just got a diagnosis that rocked her world, she's undergoing chemo, and you can't take one for the team?)

In the chapter about Kate's work, Jobson does confirm that she and William do a lot of behind-the-scenes work with their charities and patronages and that they work a "regular" schedule even on days they're not making public appearances (obviously YMMV), to which I say again: William and Kate need to be showing us that work more. They don't need to take a Wales version of the red box photo, but at least start reporting these calls and work events to the Court Circular.

Anyway, like I said - good book if you're not very familiar with Kate, but otherwise it's not really worth it. Really needed more pictures, too.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Hemisi hugged herself worriedly as her parents approached her. Ganondorf wasn't entirely sure what was bothering his daughter - things had been tense since the attack, but he had just ensured peace by swearing fealty to Rauru. This was supposed to be a moment of reprieve, a time for his family to not worry as he prepared for the future.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Nabooru asked before he could.

"I haven't found Link," Hemisi said, her voice anxious. "I've been looking everywhere for him. The guards won't really tell me much."

Ganondorf fel this ire rise. The guards likely were trying to protect Link, but they had no right to refuse information to the princess of the Gerudo. Such a slight would not be ignored. Not to mention he too wanted to know where the boy was.

"Leave this to me," he said crisply, walking away.

It didn't take much time (or threatening glares) to get what he needed. Link, apparently, was on a place called Thunderhead Island, one of the Zonai lands in the sky.

"Thunderhead Island?" Nabooru repeated after Ganondorf reported back. "We'd need a construct to get us up there, right?"

"Yeah," Hemisi answered. "Link's told me about the islands lots of times. Not many are allowed on them - it's usually just the royal family and the Sheikah."

"They'll allow me," Ganondorf rumbled, crossing his arms. "I am a king."

"Yes, but that island is also fairly volatile," Nabooru argued. "I'm better with lightning magic. I should go."

Personally, Ganondorf was far more inclined to go retrieve the boy himself, but he didn't contest the matter. Nabooru seemed rather set on the issue, and some things weren't worth arguing with her. As much as he admired her determination, he also knew she would fight him for so long that Hemisi would probably just sneak off to do the deed herself, and neither parent wanted that. The girl's abilities with lightning were formidable, but she would likely cause trouble if she went alone.

"Very well," he conceded. "We'll be waiting down here."

Nodding, Nabooru grabbed a cloak and headed towards the nearest construct. At activated at her approach, acknowledging in a mechanically musical chime, "May I help you?"

"I need to get to Thunderhead Island," Nabooru said.

The construct's reply was quick as ever. "That place is restricted."

"I am the queen of the Gerudo," Nabooru replied. "I have special access."

The construct paused a moment, processing, before noting, "I will need authorization for you to go there."

"This is an emergency," Nabooru argued. "You can speak to King Rauru about it afterwards if you please, I don't care, but one of my family is up there and I need to find him."

Although the construct was programmed to gate keep, she also knew giving a sense of urgency or danger would override its usual algorithm. Predictably, the construct questioned, "Is someone in danger?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

The Zonai machine was silent for a moment before giving an admission. "This line of logic is acceptable. I will transport you to Thunderhead Island and report the matter to King Rauru."

"You do that," she sighed. It didn't really matter of Rauru knew. Nabooru wasn't exactly keen on causing a stir within hours of Ganondorf swearing his loyalty, especially given their history, but something Hemisi's anxiety and Link's very obvious disappearance was definitely concerning. Considering the ceremony that had just happened and the celebration that had followed, Link should have been one of the first people they saw.

The construct extended its hand in front of a stone circle, and the familiar green hue of Zonai technology activated, glowing in the circle's center. Nabooru stepped forward, letting it transport her, closing her eyes as her world shifted. The air grew much colder, even more frigid than she was expecting, and she suddenly felt a little short of breath. Goddess, she'd thought the Highlands were chilly. Why was the air so much stranger here? She was shocked into opening her eyes as her cloak was immediately bombarded by a wave of rain, thunder rumbling all around her. A circular fountain of water was in front of her, surrounded by stone architecture. She walked forward, off the platform on the ground that had received her. She needed to set to work soon, already feeling a little lightheaded.

A few steps ahead it became apparent that this island wasn't just an island, but an entire chain of them. Nabooru glanced around hesitantly, looking for some kind of Zonai device to help transport her from place to place, and found none. What was Link doing here? Where was he?

Nabooru looked between pillars, on and under benches, until she'd thoroughly searched the island she was on and the few she could see. But a flash of blonde caught her attention just as she was starting to wonder if Ganondorf had been wrong, and she squinted against the rainfall to see a teenager sitting on the ground, knees tucked into his chest, wearing the attire of the palace guards combined with a headdress and Gerudo earrings gifted to him by his betrothed.

Clamping her jaw shut against the tremors that tried to make her teeth chatter, Nabooru wrapped herself more tightly in her cloak, she found a set of stairs that at least connected to this little island, moving quickly down them. Link, for whatever reason, chose to sit outside a small building, ignoring a construct nearby that was tending to a tree. The boy was soaked to the bone, red skin paint that usually adorned his exposed arm having long been washed away from his tan complexion. His red eyes were dull, hidden under platinum blonde plaits plastered to his forehead. The sparkling splendor of the Gerudo headband and earrings was dulled considerably, and his top knot was half undone in the rain.

"Link," Nabooru called a little loudly so she could be heard. "What are you doing out here?"

Link didn't seem to react all that much, or at least it wasn't apparent in this awful weather. But she heard him mutter, "You're not supposed to be here."

"Nor should you be here," Nabooru accused mildly, walking towards him. She paused short of reaching him, seeing him clam up even more. "News of our arrival has been known for at least a week. Yet on the day that Ganondorf creates peace between the Gerudo and Hyrule, you hide from us? Hemisi's been looking for you."

"Ganondorf attacked Hyrule." Link's words were sharp, dark. He was clearly still upset about the molduga assault.

Nabooru sighed. This really wasn't the place to be having this discussion - she was freezing and dizzy, and if he got any more soaked the boy would practically be a Zora. "Yes. He did. You know him, sweetheart. He likes to test his boundaries before he concedes to them. But he's conceded."

Link tucked his chin to his chest, looking away.

"Honey, the fight is over," Nabooru pressed on, stepping closer to him. "And for the first time, the Gerudo now have an alliance with Hyrule. We're a part of it - this would mean you and Hemisi don't have to hide your relationship from the public eye anymore, that there is nothing to hide anymore. This is a joyous occasion, not a reason to be moping in the rain. Come down with me so you can be with your family, love."

She finally cleared the distance between them, crouching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. Link glared moodily at the lands below, eye lashes dripping with moisture. Quietly, almost to himself, he said, "Ganondorf never concedes."

"Well, he did," Nabooru emphasized slowly. Link had not been included in the discussion of their attack on Hyrule, had been completely blindsided as Ganondorf had suggested he and Hemisi play and explore near the mines that day so they wouldn't be involved. Nabooru knew that as a member of the Sheikah tribe he would likely take it harder than most Hyrulians, but she hadn't expected quite the grudge he seemed to be holding. "Come on, love. You're freezing."

Lightning struck a small spire at the top of the building they were sitting near, making Nabooru straighten up and prepare for another strike. Thunder clapped so loudly it made her chest vibrate. Link sighed, slowly pushing to his feet. He must have been sitting for some time, swaying a little unsteadily, and Nabooru put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him inside the structure. Constructs were indoors, stoking a fire, and she approached one. "Can you take us back to the Royal Plateau?"

The little machine beeped in the affirmative, guiding them to a hover platform that sent them back to the originating island. Nabooru's hands were on Link's shoulders the entire time, feeling them tremble under her, and she pulled him close so they could share her cloak. His skin was ice cold, making her inhale sharply a little when he brushed against her exposed arms and abdomen. A headache was brewing in her forehead, and she was certainly ready to leave this dreary place.

When the pair teleported back, Ganondorf and Hemisi were there waiting for them.

"Link!" Hemisi exclaimed, rushing forward and dragging him into a hug. "You idiot, why are you soaking wet?! Where've you been?!"

"Hon, can you spare your robe?" Nabooru asked, still holding the boy to her.

Her husband complied without question, pulling off his dark outer robe and holding it out. The parents exchanged Link, one set of arms to the other, and the boy was wrapped up and held against Ganondorf quickly. He didn't argue, he didn't protest, he didn't speak as Hemisi bombarded him with questions. The king and queen exchanged a look, and the family moved towards their provided quarters in the palace.

Eventually, Link started to speak softly to his betrothed, seeming less agitated with her, and soon the two were both cuddling under Ganondorf's large garment. Nabooru moved to fetch servants so they could get him fresh clothes and some warm food, and Hemisi moved quickly to the task as well, saying she was going to grab towels.

That left Ganondorf and Link.

"So were you up there sulking the entire time since the assault?" Ganondorf finally said, getting to the point as he knelt down to the boy's eye level.

"No." Link's reply wasn't quite snappish, but it was certainly sharp, though not nearly as sharp as his eyes. Ganondorf smiled at the fire in them, the anger and force of will that refused to bow down to anything. "Just for your arrival."

"If you thought we wouldn't find you, you clearly don't know us as well as you should," Ganondorf noted with mild humor, pulling the robe over the boy's head to dry his hair. He carefully removed the pins and tie holding the top knot, tucking them into a pouch on his belt. Link didn't protest, though his gaze did drift to the floor, softening, showing the wound he'd been bearing in his heart. Ganondorf felt... more than a little exasperated, but he'd known the boy would be upset. Still... "Hold whatever grudge you wish against me, child, but do not share your ire with Hemisi. She didn't know about the attack. I suggested you two be near the mines that day for a reason."

Link sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

"The fighting is over," Ganondorf emphasized, putting weight in his voice to end this pointless adolescent moping. Then he smiled. "And now the world can know your place in our family."

The boy glanced up, hope shimmering in crimson orbs, tempered by an intelligence he often hid behind innocence and silence. "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I attack?"

"No. Why did you give up?"

"I don't give up," Ganondorf retorted a little irritatedly, pausing his ministrations.

"I know," Link immediately acknowledge firmly. "So why? You don't acknowledge defeat."

"Oh, Link," Ganondorf hummed with gentle amusement, proud of the boy's insight. He was going to make a good prince. But it would make the next months a little difficult if the king wasn't careful. "A strong warrior refuses to give up, but a wise one knows when he is defeated. I am both. It's pointless to fight a force you cannot win against."

Link still looked skeptical, confused. Ganondorf added, "How else could we build peace for you and Hemisi?"

His words seemed to catch the boy off guard. For a moment, Ganondorf really wondered if Link didn't actually think they cared, despite having spent over a year being welcomed into the family. For a moment, the king wondered if the boy really was that dull, or somehow he and his wife hadn't done something right. And then Link bit his lip, shivering, and hugged himself, clearly trying to contain emotion and not quite succeeding.

Ganondorf sighed, letting the boy be vulnerable for a moment. He pulled him close, and Link sank into the embrace, curled in against his chest.

Link would be a good prince. Ganondorf knew this. He just needed to hone the boy a little more, reassure him and teach him, let him enjoy his time with Hemisi. A war was brewing soon. It was best to enjoy this time while he could.

[lightgamble]

DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN | 1.09

You asked me for a favor. I did it.

[liriostigre]

‎ 💭 🛌🏻

[uncannycookie]

OC-tober Day 7, Day 8: Likes, Dislikes

Generally, Emri likes stuff that makes him feel safe and in control. Small spaces are good because he can see all the exits. Warm drinks/warm clothes etc. are good because warmth = survival.

Cats are just good. They purr.

And he dislikes things that make him feel unsafe, of course. Wide open spaces are hard to overlook and hide in. Loud = danger. Touch = pain. Conversations are scary because people lie and don't say what they mean and you can never really know their true intentions.

Also he's been living on his own in the wild for 20 years so his social skills aren't exactly, uh... present. At all.

[spotaus]

Coda and Ichor! (Catacombtale Style!)

These two don't have a *ton* of interaction in the Main story, but since Ichor and Balance are the only two characters I've fully designed, Coda gets stuck next to him, haha!

BONUS art jumpscare:

These two actually exist in another project I'm working on too called Codex, which is basically just removing the UT aspects of Catacombtale and doing a lot more worldbuilding and character design!

Coda is older in Codex and is marked by an old God (which should get him jailed or killed, as it means for everyone else) but he hides it for years and years before he finally flees the complex he's living in to go confront the gods and stop their destructive path. Meanwhile Ichor is much the same, only he's much more ready and willing to help Coda without much prompting. Here he's also sort of a Koi Fish! (His brother is a Betta Fish)

[piebaldeer]

I have been thinking about it lately, and I think at some point (maybe from the beginning) he saw this as the war between ideals. Instead of being human beings, they are representatives of an ideal, and the villains must be unequivocally destroyed in order to achieve victory.

It... honestly does not work with all of the previous arcs (and even during the final arc) deconstructing the idea that heroes and villains are actors on a stage. That these are all people. But honestly that is niether the first or the last thing that doesn't work about the ending.

I feel like kurogiri is the most egregious example of this. He was used as a tool by the heroes but it's cool because... it's the heroes doing it. The Narrative simultaneously wants to make him human in his death (begging to save tomura's life, that kindness being his origin/humanity) only to get unceremoniously killed by bakugou and deku. The narrative is simultaneously asking you to see him as a human whike he is, quite literally, treated as an object for the heroes to overcome. It creates this incredibly bizarre dissonance, and a message that is far more cruel than I think was intended.

And even then! It doesn't fucking work because the epilogue cannot decide if it wants to be idealistic (villain rates going down because of deku and ochako but it's also a circular story so nothing can change in a meaningful way, tenko's death being treated as a triumph) and realistic (deku recognizes that he failed, doesn't want to be a hero anymore and opts to be a hero by being a teacher).

It's all really bizarre because hori clearly loves these characters and this story, only to end it as an incomprehensible and dissonant mess that ONLY works if you paid no attention to what the story had to say up until that point! Unfortunately, I doubt the fan book will give us any satisfying answers.

Mha simultaneously having some of the best and some of the fucking worst abuse representation drives me insane. The way each member of the LoV's trauma and the ways they processed it was (in my opinion) so well made and tragic, just for Horikoshi to not redeem a single one and have all of them either die or go to jail in the bleakest fucking way possible.