#he's painfully dealing with his ego and mistakes

[black--butterflies]

Silent Retaliation (Muzan x Reader)

Muzan Kibutsuji was many things—cruel, prideful, untouchable. But he was not the type to deal with silence well.

At first, he didn’t care when you stopped speaking much to him. It was trivial—you were human, easily shaken, easily broken. He assumed you would come crawling back, desperate for his attention.

But days passed. And you remained distant.

You still did what was expected—still greeted him, still responded when necessary—but your words were short, your gaze unreadable, your touch nonexistent.

And it irritated him.

---

The Confrontation

Muzan watched you from his chair, fingers tapping lazily against the armrest. You sat across the room, minding your own business, pretending as if nothing was wrong. Pretending as if he didn’t exist.

It was infuriating.

His patience—if he ever had any—wore thin.

“You’re acting different,” he said, voice calm but sharp.

You barely acknowledged him. “Am I?”

His jaw tightened. He could hear the flatness in your voice, the complete lack of emotion. How dare you.

“Yes,” he stated plainly. “You are.”

Silence.

His fingers twitched. “You’re not as foolish as the rest. You know better than to keep things from me.”

You finally looked at him. Unreadable. Cold. The same way he looked at others—but never at him.

“Do I?” you murmured.

Something inside him snapped.

In an instant, he was in front of you, fingers gripping your chin—not painfully, but firmly enough that you couldn’t ignore him. His crimson eyes burned into yours.

“Speak.”

You exhaled slowly, your expression eerily composed. “You hit me.”

A beat of silence.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t waver. But you saw it—the flicker of recognition, the knowledge that he couldn’t deny it.

Then, just as quickly, his expression returned to its usual cold arrogance.

“And?” he said, tilting his head. “Is that why you’ve been acting like a ghost?”

Your lips pressed together. He could tell you were holding back—holding back the anger, the pain, the betrayal.

Finally, you spoke.

“I realized something,” you said quietly. “I don’t have to forgive you just because you expect me to.”

Muzan’s grip tightened slightly. Expect? The word scratched at his ego, gnawed at the place where his pride lived.

“You’re mistaken,” he said, voice smooth but dangerously low. “I expect nothing. Least of all, something as useless as forgiveness.”

You smiled, but it wasn’t warm. It wasn’t you.

“Good,” you murmured. “Then we understand each other.”

Muzan let go of your chin, watching as you pulled away, resuming your silence as if he hadn’t just been in your space.

For the first time in centuries, Muzan felt something foreign. Something he couldn’t quite name.

He had too much pride to apologize.

But for the first time, he wondered if he had made a mistake.

---

Muzan Kibutsuji did not apologize.

He had lived for centuries, ruled over demons, and slaughtered thousands without a shred of regret. He did not ask for forgiveness. He did not need it.

And yet… your silence burned.

You did not cower, did not beg, did not lash out—you simply existed without him. That was worse than anger, worse than hatred. You were near, yet you felt as distant as the moon.

It was unacceptable.

Muzan’s Attempts (Without Admitting He’s Wrong)

He didn’t address the incident. That would imply guilt. But he made it painfully clear that he wanted your attention back.

He bought you things—silks, jewelry, rare artifacts—but you only offered a quiet “thank you” before placing them aside, untouched.

He spoke to you more, drawing you into conversations, but your responses were short, disinterested.

He lingered near you—sitting closer than necessary, letting his fingers graze yours—but you never reached back.

Muzan was not used to being ignored.

And for the first time in his immortal life… he hated it.

The Breaking Point

One evening, he found you sitting alone in the moonlit garden, your back turned to him. The wind carried your scent—calm, distant, untouched by fear.

He hated it.

Without thinking, he appeared beside you. Too close. “You are exhausting.”

You didn’t flinch, didn’t react. “So leave.”

His jaw tightened. “That isn’t what I meant.”

You finally turned to look at him, meeting his crimson eyes with quiet defiance. “Then what do you mean, Muzan?”

His pride wanted him to say nothing. But the heavy weight in his chest—the one that had been growing every day—demanded release.

A long silence.

Then—so soft, so quiet, as if it physically hurt him—he finally spoke:

“…I was wrong.”

Your breath caught.

Muzan never admitted fault. It was unheard of. Impossible.

He exhaled sharply, as if forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “I lost my temper. I should not have put my hands on you.”

You stared at him, searching his expression. It wasn’t dramatic or pleading—Muzan was still Muzan, full of arrogance and control—but there was something real in his eyes. Something raw.

“I do not ask for forgiveness,” he continued, voice low. “But I will not allow you to act as if I do not exist.”

You studied him for a long moment, before finally—finally—you sighed. “That’s what bothers you most, isn’t it? Not that I was hurt. But that I refused to give you attention.”

His silence was answer enough.

But instead of anger, you just shook your head. “You’re impossible.”

Muzan watched as you stood, dusting yourself off. He prepared for you to walk away again. To leave him with this unbearable weight in his chest.

But then—softly, cautiously—you reached out, your fingers barely grazing his.

A silent truce.

His breath caught. His pride still screamed at him, still told him he had no reason to regret, but for once, he ignored it.

Muzan did not apologize.

But tonight… he came close.

And for now, that was enough.

---

Muzan was not a man of gentle affections. He ruled with fear, controlled with power, and destroyed without hesitation. He did not comfort. He did not seek warmth.

And yet…

When you reached out—fingers barely grazing his—something inside him cracked.

Before you could pull away, he moved.

His arms wrapped around you in one swift motion, pulling you flush against him. It wasn’t hesitant or delicate—Muzan didn’t know how to be delicate. It was firm, possessive, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

Your body stiffened in shock. Muzan never initiated contact like this. At least, not without some ulterior motive.

But there was no mockery in his grip. No arrogance. Just silent, unwavering need.

His face pressed against your hair, and for a moment, he said nothing. Just breathed. Just existed with you.

Finally, his voice came, quiet, low, like the confession was being dragged out of him.

“…Do not ignore me again.”

You exhaled softly, something in your chest finally easing.

“I won’t,” you murmured. And this time, you meant it.

Muzan did not say I’m sorry.

But as his grip tightened—just for a second—you knew this was the closest he had ever come.

And for now… it was enough.

---

[naffeclipse]

AHHHH, ok follow up question because how could I not after that delicious angst?! (I still cannot get over the fact that he actually asked for forgiveness. Eclipse.)

So, now I'm SO curious on how he would even try and fix it after that. Because y/n was very clear on the not forgiving him part. Like, I imagine he of course wouldn't just try directly again so soon. Maybe he even has to just, sit down and consider everything. He knows loyalty. But does he truly know trust? The one thing he has now apparently lost regarding y/n.

Like, aside from his brothers, most of his thinking is in the concept of exchange. I wonder if at first he'd consider giving y/n knowledge of a similar type about him (as he held about them) would show them he actually wan't intending to use it as a means of hurting them. But then quickly dismiss the idea. Because not only is being vulnerable one of the things Eclipse hates (and maybe even fears?) the most, but it's also not just HIS past, but his brothers' as well. So not only would that be a repeat of revealing something without someone else's consent, but no matter how much he knows the vigilante values his brothers, I can't see him giving out any information to anyone regardless of who they are if it could even remotely hurt his brothers with something so personal.

Maybe he would just decide to stand back as he sorts himself out? His brothers are furious at him, and so is y/n, so what point would there be in insisting when that tentative closeness that had been building again just seems to have crumbled? So maybe he'd just be silent for a time? Actually thinking on how everything just goes wrong again and again and maybe thinking back to previous mistakes. Maybe realizing that the bare minimum to keep his brothers happy and trying to keep indulging his more violent tendencies isn't enough after all. Because after this, how much control can he actually claim to have over himself? Not to say he would suddenly just go, ah yes, they have always been right and I wrong, because it's undeniable that what he did in the past worked and it technically got them far. So it's an internal battle of how much of this is him and how much is him not bothering (or not wanting) to get his darkest emotions and impulses under control.

And oooh, just thinking about the other side as well! Like, y/n mentions explicitly that they are going to Sun and Moon after this, still needing the comfort, but it does seem they have some new bits of info to chew on. Nothing that they would go feeling bad about, and they would be more than justified in that! But I imagine they might discuss it all the same with the detectives, especially if they arrive stillclearly pissed off. I do wonder how the boys would react to y/n telling them of the encounter. Probably angry that Eclipse approached them so soon after all, but maybe surprised that he did not actually try to force them to stay and listen to him more. And what of the bits of the conversation y/n might let slide. Like knowing that Eclipse is very convinced that his brothers see him as nothing but a monster. And maybe y/n is also unsure about it. Why do they forgive them so easily anyway?

Which reminds me! Technically Eclipse never received an answer to that (understandably as it started the whole problem in the first place), and I doubt he will ask again after what happened. He never did receive the answer of why it was so easy for them to welcome y/n who compared to Eclipse could be considered a stranger. I wonder if he'd try to come up with the answer or just prefer to not get one after all. And if he does wonder, would he think it's because the way they learned of y/n's life under Afton's rule was in a detached way? An investigation that stated facts but involved no personal toll? Is it because in Eclipse's case they witnessed it from a closer point? Did they consider it a betrayal? They do despise lies because of those years after all.

Either way, I can see it as a very lonely time for Eclipse, trying to sort himself out after this, especially after managing some closeness that he might not get again for some time yet. I wonder if some radio silence from him would worry the detectives about him falling back to his old ways again...

So, so, so, so normal about Bounty Hunter Eclipse, I swear (Lying, so much lying XD)

AHHH OKAY! I had my time to chew over this, and eee, I think you'll like it! ♥

It is a horribly lonely time for Eclipse, but he takes much of his fury out on his bounties, so whoops, RIP to those guys, but that only proves everything that his brothers and Y/N are saying is wrong with him.

Cooling down takes a long, excruciating time. Eclipse has his head back on his shoulders and knows that barging in demanding answers and confrontation isn't going to work. He might not ever get back those bridges he was building.

Yet, after a couple weeks of isolation and ruminating, he ventures back to Sun's and Moon's apartment. He can tell by the slight window crack that the vigilante just made a hasty escape—which causes his hands to clench but it's what's needed. He needs to talk to Sunny and Moonie alone.

It's not the best reunion (a lot of those happening lately) but the same old argument begins about Eclipse and his ways before he snaps and flat-out demands to know why. Why can they forgive and love Y/N and see them in the best light but he, their older brother, can't be in their graces?

A long pause grows before Sun and Moon look at Eclipse and tell him that he's not trying. He's not better. Yeah, he quit being a thug for a stupid gang but he's still bloody and violent and obsessive to a dangerous degree. He's not trying to atone nor seek forgiveness. Y/N is, though, and even though Y/N doesn't see it, Sun and Moon believe Y/N to have a change of heart. They just want Eclipse to have that same revelation and try and come home.

Eclipse is shocked into silence. He doesn't say anything for a long time, and all there is silence. There's some much he wants to explode with until he admits that he can't. He doesn't know how to. This is who he is now and it is what helped them all to survive.

Sun and Moon tell him that it's okay, that he can, and that they will help him if he lets them. They will make sure their big brother survives, too. They'll take care of him.

It feels so wrong for Eclipse. He struggles with his pride and always being the one to watch out for Sun and Moon. He almost walks away again because that would be easier and his pride would still be intact, but he thinks of Y/N. What he thought was a perfect likeness between them is offset by the fact that Y/N didn't lose themselves to the darkness of survival, hardship, and pain.

Swallowing it all down, Eclipse at last nods. He'll try. He has Sun and Moon behind him now even though he's going to hate every second of this, he will try.

[not-delicious-milk]

sukuna and gojo: two sides of a coin

(these are some very unorganized thoughts but i can’t be bothered to sort them)

i find it incredibly interesting how sukuna and gojo are set up as foils for each other. it would be easy to contrast the mentor figure and antagonist, both in power level and in personality, but it goes deeper than that.

sukuna and gojo are both immensely powerful figureheads of their respective groups — curses and jujutsu sorcerers — with enormous egos and the strength to back it up. but the ways in which they differ are very strange. if you were just looking at it objectively, you might mistake sukuna for the mentor and gojo for the antagonist.

both of them have a direct parallel in the line “throughout the heavens and earth, he/I alone is/am the honored one.” but it’s presented differently. sukuna’s comes in the form of impartial narration, showing how “only his pleasure and displeasure exists” and that he cares only about his whims and desires, but also that he has no need to brag about it. meanwhile, gojo’s is spoken by himself in the midst of a power high and enlightenment. it shows that he has achieved a higher realm of understanding, but it’s also a boast, directed towards the enemy that had him on the brink of death moments before. it’s somehow closer to and farther from the original meaning of the phrase.

sukuna comes off as, hilariously, more humble than gojo. it establishes that, although gojo is probably stronger than him in terms of his techniques, sukuna is stronger emotionally and mentally. he doesn’t need to belittle his opponents or those he considers weaker than him. he doesn’t go mad with power when he fights. why would he need to? he’s the king of curses, revered as a god. all he asks for is the respect he is due.

in general, sukuna and gojo defy a very old trope in media — that heroes work together, and villains work alone. gojo is painfully alone, his very technique alienating him from the people around him, and he embraces it as just the natural state of things. he fights best alone because he can disregard the damage he accrues around him. he doesn’t have a single person who stands on his level, whom he can rely on. (we all know how that ended last time.) while sukuna actually encourages his opponents and gives them advice in his pursuit of an entertaining fight, gojo mocks them. literally just

gojo, to jogo: after all, you’re weak.

sukuna, to jogo: stand proud. you’re strong.

and besides that you have proof, time and time again, that working with others to cover your own weaknesses works. and it’s something gojo hasn’t realized! he lost, more than once, to teamwork and planning! toji had a network of bounty hunters wear down at him before confronting him. hanami distracted him for long enough to rescue jogo and get away. getwo and the disaster curses worked together, even recruiting others to aid in their goal, to deal several blows against the strongest sorcerer — to steal the fingers that jujutsu tech had, and to eventually defeat and seal him in shibuya. his singular strength was his downfall because he limited how he saw it — gojo doesn’t think he has any weaknesses, so why would he need to work with others? they’d just get in the way.

meanwhile, sukuna freely admits when he needs help. although he’s unconscious, he tells fushiguro, “don’t die. there’s something i need you to do.” besides that, he’s shown as willing to help, to an extent, as long as he isn’t ordered around — he was willing to hear nanako and mimiko out, the issue was when they tried to pressure sukuna into doing as they said by withholding a finger location. and he was willing to help jogo out, as long as he offered him an entertaining fight — and landed a hit on him — in return. he’s actually respectful to his subordinates, like uraume, and speaks to them as equals. (meanwhile, gojo takes advantage of his subordinates whenever he can. think of how he treats ijichi, for example.)

anyway those are my thoughts. i think that if both of them had time to prepare before a fight, sukuna would win. not necessarily though brute strength, but through cunning and teamwork. unless gojo learns that he needs to stop working alone all the time, or at least allow other people to cover his tracks, he’s never going to be able to beat sukuna, or honestly any antagonist with like a week of planning time and 20 bucks.

[angry-geese]

Homesick Remedy

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: nsfw. Smut and fluff. Tender sex, hickeys/marking, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex, creampie, breeding mention, praise kink (sort of/interpretable). afab reader.

Notes: Gojo returns home from a job and spends some quality time with the reader. domestic fluff turned smut

You're not quite sure when you hear the door open.

Gojo usually comes home late. It's the nature of his job. Being one of the world's best Jujutsu sorcerers doesn't exactly follow a 9-5 schedule. Curses don't care if you're sleeping. Most nights you would stay up to greet him. Your schedule was nearly as hectic as his, you dealt with this often. If he found you dozing off on the couch he'd press a kiss to your forehead and carry you to bed.

You had gone on a job the day prior. It was nothing of note; something you could easily handle on your own. A curse was proving to be difficult for lower level sorcerers so they sent you in. Mistakenly you let your guard down—only for a moment—and it cost you. The curse landed a blow on you. Nothing fatal. While your injuries weren't the most visible, they sure don't feel that way. You found yourself unwilling to tell Gojo, though. You could take care of yourself, but he always fussed over you. If he noticed something was off this morning, he made no mention of it.

Gojo's hand briefly touches your head, messing up your hair.

"You're home early." You say, reaching your arms out for him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

He leans down to give you a quick kiss before hauling you into his arms. Instinctively you bury your face in his chest, inhaling the woody scent of his cologne. As much as it smells nice, he puts far too much on. The scent tends to linger long after he's left the room. Something metallic hangs onto it. Blood. Although he doesn't appear injured.

Dramatically he flops back onto the couch. You shift so you're sitting in his lap, facing him. Dark circles line the skin under his eyes. It makes you wonder when he's last slept. His hair is a mess. Idly you brush it out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear.

"Missed me?" This dumb looking grin spreads across his face.

"You? Never."

He visibly deflates. Of course you missed him, but his ego could survive a hit or two. There are very few things you enjoyed more than bullying your boyfriend. All in good fun. He's rarely bothered by it. Unfortunately you love him.

You often wonder how you got so lucky.

When the two of you first met, you couldn't stand each other. It was so long ago that it's hard to believe now. There was an obvious rivalry in school. He was always the best at what he did. Though he was a few years older, and moments you ran into him were rare, so it was often shrugged off. If you found something you thought you'd be good at, he was always better. Growing up, he was annoying like that. For someone like you, it made you furious. You had a petty, competitive streak. You had to be good at everything you did. You had to be one of the best sorcerers. You had to be the best in your class.

And you were, but he was always better.

You're a very talented sorcerer yourself, but it's hard not to feel inadequate standing next to him. Most people could say the same thing. Half of the Jujutsu world either wanted him, or wanted to be him. He always fit in so well.

It wasn't until well into adulthood that your paths crossed for long enough to talk. The two of you were more similar than you ever thought. You gave him a chance. Reluctantly so, but you did. Your work only made the two of you grow closer.

He shifts so you're in a more comfortable position in his arms, head resting against his chest. The sudden movement makes you wince. His demeanor completely changes. Gojo handles you like you're fragile; like you'll shatter in his grasp.

It pisses you off just a little bit.

"Is everything alright?" He asks.

He scans you over for injuries. The feeling of his eyes on your body makes you want to shrink back and hide.

"I may have had my ass handed to me on that last job." You let out a nervous sounding laugh, burying your face in his jacket. You're not quite sure why you're embarrassed. It was a mistake, nothing more. But he never makes them.

You're not sure if that makes it worse or better. So you don't question it.

You lean back in to deepen the kiss. It's the first distraction you can think of. It seems to work. The strong muscle of his tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth. He tastes sweet. The scent of his cologne is heady, and makes your head swim.

"Do you want to?" He asks.

He's almost certain of the answer, but it never hurts to check.

You nod—maybe a bit too quick—but you nod. Despite the way your body aches, you want him.

"We're doing this in bed then." He says.

Gojo doesn't give you any time to respond before he's hauling you up into his arms bridal style, heading straight for your shared bedroom. The way he tosses your body onto the bed is a bit rough. It sends a sharp pain up through your ribs. The bed dips under his weight as he kneels in front of you. As you try to sit up, he pins you. His hands hold your wrists to the headboard, his knees straddling you.

Gojo coaxes your shirt over your head, humming in amusement when he realizes you don't have a bra on underneath. He palms at your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers, working them into stiff peaks. He leans forward to take one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. It feels nice, but you can't help the throbbing ache it sends right to your cunt. Your hands tangle in his hair, gently guiding him where you want him most. It hardly takes him any time to turn you into a moaning, babbling mess.

You'll have a collar of hickeys in the morning.

Part of you hates how quickly he can turn you to putty in his hands. He knows all the ways that make you melt.

You palm at the growing tent in his pants. He's half hard, his cock leaking against his thigh. He's been gone so long, maybe you've missed him more than you thought. He's certainly missed you. He always finds himself wanting to come home to you at the end of the day.

You lift your hips enough so he can slide your shorts—along with your panties—completely off. Then Gojo's shirt. They're tossed in a heap to your side, landing by your discarded clothes. You're always surprised at how muscular he is without his jacket. It hides a lot more than you thought, you suppose. His eyes scan over you, and the instinct there is to hide. He notices you shying away and stops for a moment.

"Do you still want to?"

Again, you nod. You'd have stopped him if you really didn't.

He pulls you in for a kiss—just a quick peck this time—then plants one on the tip of your nose. Your cheeks turn bright red at that. His head dips down to press a kiss to your sternum; the valley between your breasts. He trails kisses down your bare stomach. Somewhere during that time his hands find your breasts, kneading the plush flesh. He's always admired the curves of your body. His was nice, but it was all angles and hard muscle.

His cock is around average in size—maybe a bit bigger—about six or so inches. It's pretty, like a pornstar's, and he always keeps it well groomed. He's not very intimidating. The head is a ruddy color, with a prominent vein running right to it. Although he's clean shaven, the hairs at the base of his cock are the same white as his head. That question bothered you for years before you finally got an answer. It doesn't take a whole lot of prep to take him, but he always likes working his partners up. Anything you could deal, he'd dish back out double. Never anything you can't handle, but Gojo can be a bit of an ass.

He presses a kiss to your thigh, sucking a dark mark where you won't be able to see. The action sends an ache of need right to your core. Heat pools low in your stomach, slowly building in intensity. Gojo's arms hook around your thighs, pulling you towards him. Your legs rest just over his shoulders. The aching need in your cunt makes it hard to think straight. All you want is for him to touch you. He licks a long stripe up your slit. His own eyes are clouded with need, his cheeks flushed, lips bitten pink. His strong hands knead the soft flesh of your thighs, his breath hot against your skin. He licks a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. You jump as he presses kitten licks to your clit, working the bundle of nerves in achingly slow motions. You taste sweet, he notes.

Your hands bury in his hair, guiding him to where you need him most. This time he relents, leaning in to lap at your clit in soft, steady motions. One of his fingers presses against your entrance. They're long, but thin, and dexterous. After a moment, he adds a second, pressing up against your g-spot. It's another moment before he starts pumping them. The sounds of your slick sex and moans fill the room. He sucks onto the sensitive bundle of nerves so desperately that it feels like it'll pop off. He swirls his tongue around it in a way that makes your toes curl and your fingers bury in the sheets. You get louder the closer you get to your own orgasm. He takes note of this. It's only a moment later when he pulls away. The lower half of his face glistens in the dim light. He makes a show of licking his fingers, groaning at the taste. Gojo leans back in for a kiss. Not much more than a quick peck. You can taste yourself on him. He finds your shocked and disappointed look endearing.

"Please,"

A smug look spreads across his face. "Please what?"

"Fuck me,"

He cages you in his arms, pinning your wrists against the bed. You might be able to wriggle out of his grasp if you really tried; not that you want to. He can't help but admire the mess between your thighs.

You take his cock into your hands, giving him a few quick pumps. He's painfully hard. Precum beads at the head, which has turned an angry shade of red. Gojo wastes no time in lining himself up. His slick cock head traces around your entrance before pushing in. He takes his time, slowly bottoming out in you. The stretch stings slightly, but isn't necessarily painful. With all the prep, he slides right in. He groans as you take him right to the hilt.

As he starts to thrust, your scramble for purchase against his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck, your fingers lacing together behind his head. His hair tickles your neck. He coos words of praise into your ear, telling you how good you take him, how good you feel around him. You clench around him, pulling him back in. Gojo sucks dark marks into your neck, only adding to the collar of hickeys. He takes pride in seeing you all marked up. Some possessive part of him loves seeing the marks he leaves behind.

Gojo's hips roll against yours in lazy thrusts. To him, there's no prettier sight than seeing your form writhe under him. His hands grab your legs propping them up on his shoulders. The new angle allows him to hit deeper than before. He picks up in pace, snapping his hips against yours in short, quick motions.

His free hand traces circles around your clit. The heat in your stomach soon grows scorching in nature. You're close. He notices the way your breathing grows shaky, how your moans get louder and more desperate sounding.

When you cum, you cum hard. Your legs clamp around his hips, pulling him back in. The way your pussy spasms around him is enough to send him over the edge. It almost catches him off guard—he didn't expect to cum so soon—he bites into his tongue hard to stop the moan that escapes him. His cum paints your walls white, filling you up more than ever before. As he pulls out, he does so slowly to not spill any of his cum.

He pulls you so your back is flush to his chest. Your skin is sticky with sweat, and maybe a bit of saliva. The sound of his steady breathing threatens to lull you to sleep. He smooths a hand over your hair, brushing it out of your eyes. Gojo looks at you with such adoration that it makes affection swell in your chest. Moments like these are rare; falling asleep next to him. Life rarely seems to allow it. It's always nice when you can take a break together.

"I missed you." You finally say.

"I know." He plants a kiss on your forehead. "I missed you too."

[frozenbound]

Shimadacest headcanon #35:

(Continuation of Shimadacest Headcanon #29, #30, #31, #32, #33 and #34)

Hanzo stands up, which is somewhat of a mistake, because his erect cock almost smacks into Genji's face.

"Whoa..." Genji says faintly instead of shrieking and jerking back.

Hanzo rolls his eyes. "You've seen it before," he says dismissively as he pours a jet of warm water over his head, making him blubber.

When he moves on to rinsing the suds off the rest of his body, his little brother recovers enough to mutter, "Y-yeah, but it's always a shock seeing how huge it is."

"Stop, Genji," Hanzo says, though he can't keep the basest, most adolescent portion of his ego from purring at the observation/compliment. "Yours is just as big," he adds as he turns off the water and turns at last towards the hot tub.

"Then you've been looking at it?" Genji asks in a somewhat teasing tone, but also sounding...hopeful?

Hanzo looks over his shoulder. "Do you want me to?" he asks, trying to sound facetious, though that's Genji's forte and not his. "You've always seemed embarrassed by it."

Genji blushes. He opens and closes his mouth, and Hanzo begins to regret his little prank. Genji is obviously unsettled, and it's almost painful to see his uncharacteristic hesitance.

Hanzo pauses just before he gets to the hot tub and turn around to face him fully. He nods encouragingly, trying to reassure his little brother.

It seems to work. Genji swallows hard, then says, "It's...just that...I worry what you might think about me...getting...hard. Around you."

"What of it?" Hanzo asks. "It's simply something that happens, a natural bodily reaction. You can't help it."

Genji is quiet for a moment.

"No. I can't," he says, almost to himself, and Hanzo gets the distinct impression that they're not talking about the same thing.

"But does it...bother you?" Genji presses. "I mean...you're hard, too."

"Yes," Hanzo agrees cautiously. "I am."

Genji swallows again.

"W...why?"

Hanzo tilts his head, not understanding the question at all.

"W...why are you are hard, too?" Genji clarifies, though it hardly helps.

"Because you've been...touching me," Hanzo replies, trying to sound casual and/or clinical, but he's painfully aware how it sounds. "Anyone would...react after you touch them."

"Why would they react?" Genji asks breathlessly.

Hanzo rolls his eyes. "Because you're a handsome young man with a ripped body and a nice, big cock, Genji," he says baldly, tiring of trying to inject any sense or decorum into this conversation. "Enough of this. You're clean and rinsed off. Come. Get in the bath and relax."

He follows his own advice, stepping over the tall rim and into the almost searing hot water, groaning lustily at the immediate effect the heat has on his old, tired muscles as he immerses his bulky mass up to his chest, the water lapping at his nipples and gray chest hair.

Genji just needed to relax, he thought, feeling a little unsettled.

Maybe forcing his blood to redistribute itself to deal with the heat would help clear his mind.

Water splashes, loud in his ears.

Genji gets in the bath.

Right next to Hanzo.

He sits.

Pressing up against his side.

His little brother's hand wraps around Hanzo's cock.

[saturnsorbits]

Sad thought but what if you and Bakugou’s teenage daughter is painfully alone/single because no one wants to face his wrath 🥺

See… I don’t see that happening.

I do see her dealing with some assholes because of her Pro-Hero dad tho. The guys who date her to get close to him, those who want the ‘fuck you’ of being able to say they’ve fucked a Pro’s daughter. I feel like she’d have to savvy up quick, but she’s also Bakugo’s daughter - this girl has 0 problem putting a dickhead in his place. Maybe the first one gets to her, but after that. Nope. Nada. She’s not having it.

On the other side of things. I mean sure, Bakugo is scary, but at the end of the day he just want what’s best for his baby girl. He’s never going to take anything away from her and I think he’s level-headed enough to let her make her own mistakes. The last thing he wants is for her to feel like she has to hide anything from him, boyfriends or otherwise. Does it tear him up inside having to stand on the sidelines sometimes? Yes. Of course it does, but he does everything in his power to do right by her.

There are certainly men who are too scared to meet Daddy Dearest, but all that means is that they’re wimpy little idiots that don’t deserve to date his baby girl. Anyone who isn’t willing to face him isn’t worthy in his eyes and, he hopes, in his daughters too.

Personally, I think he worries about the effect being his daughter has on her a lot. Her safety; obviously but I think he dealt with a lot of that with his wife. Does he still sit up every time his daughter goes out and wait for her to get in? Picks her up from literally anywhere at a moments notice? Of course he does; but at the end of the day he's a Pro if anything happens to her physically - he can do something about it. Emotionally and socially however? That's where he really worries. He worries about her making friends - about their motives; he worries about her growing up like he did: isolated w/an unchecked ego. He’s the first to admit that he was in desperate need of Kirishima’s friendship when he was a teenager and that he wouldn’t be the man he is today without a certain red-head deciding that he was going to be his best friend if he liked it or not. So, when it comes to boyfriends… He’s thrown through a loop. He does his best to be as accommodating as possible, until they step out of line ofc; then the gloves are off, but until then: he’s happy so long as his little girl is happy.

He puts his foot down once, and only once.

The boy seems nice enough with his too wide smile, brown curly hair and freckle dusting. His eyes are green and he’s a touch short for his age, but he’s got his head screwed on. Talks about his plans for the future over dinner and is polite as all Hell to both Bakugo and you. Bakugo’s instantly suspicious, but keeps his mouth shut. The kid never offers anything about his parents, but come 7pm, he lets slip that his mum is picking him up.

Bakugo’s glare could melt fucking steel when he watches Ochako bounce up his driveway. There’s a tick in his jaw and his hands are smoking. For the first time in his life, he’s cursing his disinterest in social media. He knows half of the class went off to the US after graduation and that a few of them never came back, but he’s never bothered to ask about what any of them had gotten up to. His own small group of friends continue to wedge themselves into his life and beyond that, he can’t say he’d ever given a fuck: except now, that is.

He rubs his knuckles into his eyes before swallowing hard. There’s an evident plea in his voice when he says: ‘Please, tell me it’s Specks. For the love of fucking God please tell me he’s Specks’ brat.’

Ochako laughs like music and shakes her head.

Bakugo explodes the doorway.

[a-crimson-lion]

The Past Is Present (In All The Wrong Ways…)

So I saw that @elflynns-horde-of-stuff wanted to talk about BNHA 319, and I was going to send her and ask, but then I let my thoughts go on too long, so… everyone gets this gigantic brain dump. Enjoy :D

[Fair warning: no immediate Bakubashing, but it does come in later. I’m not joking, if you don’t like that, AVOID it. Please. Thank you.]

Now there’s a LOT to unpack with this chapter, and I might not be able to put all of it in words, so let me try and boil it down to what I believe is the core issue:

People are recognizing Midoriya’s bulls*** without recognizing Bakugo’s bulls***.

[TL;DR at the very end, just so you know.]

Which, let me be clear, is completely fair. I like Midoriya as a character, he’s obviously one of my favorites, but hoo BOY am I sick and tired of the s*** he has to go through and the s*** he’s pulling! I understand he’s going through a lot of stress right now and he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt, but from a completely professional standpoint, that is LITERALLY THE JOB. His other friends are literally HEROES (in training) that have also been through their fair share of UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONAL BULLS*** BECAUSE OF SHONEN LOGIC, so realistically trying to protect them, while noble, does kinda come off as insulting. And I get the whole savior complex thing, because the whole “its my responsibility, let me handle it” isn’t entirely irrational on its own.

The previous holders of OFA more or less signed up for the responsibility.

Nana Shimura signed up for the responsibility, not her family.

Toshinori Yagi signed up for the responsibility, not his friends and (found) family.

Izuku Midoriya signed up for the responsibility, not his mom, not his friends.

...except AFO isn’t just targeting OFA, though that is a big priority on his to-do list.

Except AFO, as a villain, isn’t just OFA’s responsibility.

Except even if innocent people can’t and shouldn’t be brought in the crossfire, Midoriya’s friends aren’t civilians. A good bulk of Midoriya’s allies aren’t civilians. They’re heroes. They signed up for this. Maybe not taking on an ancient evil like AFO, but hey, most villains nowadays AREN’T a part of the standard deal.

The thing about a savior complex is that you often have a blindside.

And from a more personal perspective, I’m not a big fan of the whole “protagonist repeats history” kinda deal, especially with the way BNHA framed itself as a sort of “next-gen” shonen which was supposed to be kinda sorta different. And the thing is, we already have several examples of the same story with the previous OFA holders, especially Nana and Toshinori, which we’ve seen in glimpses on several occasions.

Internally, it does make sense for Midoriya to be repeating the mistakes of his predecessors. Personally, I think it would make more sense if Midoriya’s inferiority complex manifested in a different way (and maybe show us the dangers of that heroic isolation through Nana and Toshinori in more fleshed out flashbacks so that part doesn’t get completely left out). But that’s not what we’re talking about here.

Now, with all my grievances of Midoriya settled… Bakugo.

Before I go to deep into AntiBaku mode, let me just say right now: I kinda get what he was going for.

He’s not being an arrogant loudmouth like usual because he’s letting his ego talk; he’s doing it because that’s what’s familiar to him AND to Midoriya. Midoriya is used to Bakugo when he acts like that, he hasn’t shown any serious signs of not being receptive to Bakugo when he’s like that (at least not recently), so Bakugo uses that in the hopes that maybe that familiarity will get Midoriya to stop and think. It’s worked before, right?

And in all fairness, maybe those insults are trying to get to Midoriya, too. He’s not thinking of OFA as some grand blessing, he’s not trying to be another All Might (the manga went as far to show us how much Izuku does NOT look like a traditional hero right now), so maybe Midoriya will stop and try to reason with his friends, and maybe come to reason with himself as well.

...or he’ll think Baku is full of s*** trying to set him off and just keep moving along, both out of annoyance and thinking Bakugo doesn’t really understand.

(This is where trying to understand Bakugo ends by the way.)

Because all of the above is assuming that Bakugo is approaching normal circumstances. Which he’s not.

Midoriya is tired, both mentally and physically. Midoriya has a very, VERY bad person trying to cut him off from everything, and everyone, and it’s working. Midoriya is under the impression that if he doesn’t keep moving, if he doesn’t try to fix this mess that HE signed up for, people that don’t deserve to get hurt are going to get hurt.

All Might is one of those people. His friends and classmates are some of those people. BAKUGO is one of those people.

And right now, all Bakugo is doing is getting in close proximity, doing what he usually does. He’s not changing his approach to throw Midoriya off, because he’s not that kinda person. He’s trying to talk Izuku down because that is his usual approach, and it’s worked before. Even if Midoriya ultimately contradicted his words, he’s always at least acknowledged Bakugo and what he’s had to say. So Bakugo’s trying to get him to realize how it looks from his perspective: Midoriya is getting a big head, he’s not ready for this responsibility, he’s not supposed to be this way.

...but that’s not what Midoriya’s hearing.

Right now, if I had to guess, the only thing Midoriya is processing right now is that he’s not enough. All Bakugo’s taunts are doing is inflaming his inferiority complex, reminding him that he’s not doing enough. He’s not a “Majesty… successor of One For All” because he’s NOT focusing on the clout, and from Midoriya’s perspective, he’s been doing a s*** job of helping people after the Nagant fiasco and with tracking down AFO and Shigaraki in general. He’s not an “All Might wannabe” because All Might can’t help right now, and even if he could, he’d be doing a lot better in Izuku’s eyes, because even if Toshinori Yagi was human, painfully so, All Might was always, ALWAYS, the #1 Hero for a reason.

...and how can Midoriya live up to that? What has he done to live up to that, to live up to ANYTHING, really?

Midoriya isn’t focusing on how much he’s done. He’s focusing on how much he hasn’t done.

“I can still move…” ...becuase I haven’t moved enough. Because I haven’t done enough.

With that said, time to switch topics: Bakugo’s understanding of the situation, while more extensive than anyone else, is also limited in its own right. I have problems with him claiming he knows All Might and Midoriya better than anyone else because of the sequence of events leading up to that are, realistically speaking (shocking, I know), completely contrived (aftermath of the Battle Trial, DvK2, subsequent invitation to secret OFA meetings). But that’s also because really, there’s a lack of complete awareness on Bakugo’s part, which isn’t expected, but still important.

Neither Bakugo nor Midoriya (nor the readers/viewers, really) know the full extent of All Might’s history as Toshinori Yagi. Midoriya probably knows a lot more of it than Bakugo does from a purely personal perspective, but that’s still not much, so Bakugo’s claim of knowing All Might is kinda :/ Then what about Izuku? Well…

Bakugo is willing to acknowledge that he bullied Midoriya. Bakugo is willing to acknowledge that Midoriya’s sense of self-worth is non-existent. But has Bakugo ever really acknowledged the impact he personally had on the latter?

Bakugo has been willing to see that the way he treated Midoriya was unjust, I won’t deny that. But as of now, we have yet to see Bakugo properly, explicitly realize that HE is the major contributor to Midoriya’s lack of self-worth. As far as Bakugo’s concerned, this is just another thing that Midoriya’s been doing since he was a kid. Except the fact that it’s not. Midoriya’s selflessness was always there.

...his lack of self-preservation came later.

And that’s the crux of the issue, really (finally, no more babbling): Bakugo is trying to tell Midoriya that he isn’t enough, but Midoriya is used to that. He grew up with it, heard it on repeat, internalized it. Not just from Bakugo, even if he was at some point a major contributor. And that’s Midoriya’s driving force: he’s not enough, he needs to do more, he can’t stop. There’s logic in Bakugo’s approach, but first off, it’s f***ing stupid logic, and second, logic doesn’t translate well to emotion. Even if Bakugo is doing what he’s doing with Izuku’s well-being in mind, he’s completely missing the point and kinda coming off as a dick, both externally and from a meta standpoint.

Izuku Midoriya doesn’t need Katsuki Bakugo trying to talk him down. He’s used to that.

Izuku Midoriya needs someone to tell him he’s done enough, plain and simple. No backhanded compliments, no workaround taunts. He needs someone like All Might- no, someone like Toshinori Yagi. He needs someone who is willing to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that he is enough, that he’s done enough.

More than enough people have already acknowledged Katsuki Bakugo.

Not enough people have truly acknowledged Izuku Midoriya.

TL;DR: Midoriya needs help, but the way Bakugo is going about it could actually backfire and feels shortsighted.

-Crimson Lion (9 July 2021)

[stupid-stew]

Boiling Rain

my finger slipped again oopsies idk if this is 100% in character but like what if eda kicked lilith out right away and ended up regretting it later

There was nothing worse than a knock on the door for Eda. Especially not in the middle of the night, during a boiling rain storm, when she was fresh out of magic, and she had a kid in the house, and there was no hooty noise to warn her beforehand. What was he up to?

Eda was still new at defending herself without her magic, but she knew her way around a bat, just ask that guy at the bar from her 20’s and his massive medical bill. Whatever she thought, laughing to herself, that jerk deserved it, no medical bill was larger than his ego. Bat in her left hand, doorknob in her right, she simultaneously swung the door open and raised the bat into a defensive position, ready to strike, that is until…

“Lily?”

What she saw before her definitely wasn’t her sister, but that was Lilith on her doorstep. Well kind of, Lilith collapsed in front of her, drenched in steaming water, clearly out of breath, nothing like the perfect prissy Lilith she knew, and what was she wearing? Where was her dress and cloak? Oh, Eda realized, that is her dress and cloak. The clothes were nearly melting off of her sister, riddled with holes. That couldn’t have made her injuries any less severe. Eda had been stuck in her fair share of boiling rain storms, even with the thick skin of the owl beast it had still taken her weeks to heal, she couldn’t even begin to fathom the state her sister was in.

“I’m sorry” came a hoarse whisper from the pile at her feet

“Lily oh my titan-” Eda dropped the bat and turned her head to yell up the stairs, hoping she was loud enough to wake her sleeping apprentice “LUZ, WAKE UP” Her head snapped back to the door frame at the movement of Lilith flinching at her loud voice. What happened to her.

Eda bent down to at least try to get an idea of the injuries her sister had suffered, but before she could get her hands on Lilith, Luz appeared at the base of the stairs. “What’s going on?” she asked, clearly still half asleep. “I need you to go up to the bathroom and grab the first aid kit, not the one in the first aid kit box, the one in the lunchbox.” Eda instructed.

Luz went to move up the stairs but suddenly snapped awake, “Is that Lilith?”

“Luz, later, first aid kit now, please” Eda responded, back turned to the now fully attentive teenager

“Got it…” Luz ran up the stairs, “...the blue or the purple one?” she shouted

Eda sighed, now that Luz was going to be here a while she should make a point to show the kid the ropes around the house “The purple one please.”

Not even a half minute later Eda had the box in her hand and was sorting through the bandages, what was she doing, she didn’t even know how badly wounded Lilith was. Eda set the supplies down and moved to touch Lilith when a pale, terribly blistered hand shot out of the mound in front of her and grabbed her wrist.

“No.”

Eda was confused and jerked her hand away “What do you mean no?”

Lilith took a couple ragged breaths before weakly responding “I don’t want your help, I don’t deserve it”

They sat there in silence for a moment before Eda remembered Luz was still behind her, “Luz, sweetie, could you go grab some blankets and maybe draw up some of those healing glyphs you’ve been working on?”

“Sure” the girl replied softly before quietly stepping back up the stairs

“Edalyn I sai-” Lilith started

“I heard you. I don’t want to hear it. You need help.”

“Not your help-” Lilith inhaled painfully “not after everything I did to you.”

“Oh for titan’s sake Lily, you think just because you made a mistake I’m going to let you lay here in pain? I haven’t even seen your face yet and I can tell you need help, mine or not.”

“No, I shouldn’t have come here, it’s all my fault, I’ll go.” Lilith moved to get up, but the burns weren’t having it and she barely got a push-up’s distance off the ground before her arms gave out.

“Are you kidding me right now? You come to my door in the middle of the night, after having gone through titan-knows-what, covered in burns, your clothes are barely intact, and you expect me to just let you leave?”

Eda wasn’t having any more of it, and reached out and grabbed Lilith’s arm, who hissed in a combination of pain and protest.

“Not on my watch sister” Eda spoke through her teeth. For someone so frail, Lilith was definitely a bit heavier than she looked, though the fact she was drenched probably didn’t help.

She managed to drag the complaining witch all the way to the couch before Luz made her way down the stairs, blankets and a stack of healing glyphs in hand.

“Kid, drop those and come help me please.”

Together they were able to get Lilith into a lying position on the couch, and for the first time see how bad of a state Lilith was in. Not an inch of the witch’s skin was spared from the rains, red blotches and boils acted like massive freckles over her whole body. While taking in the sight of her sister, Eda managed to meet the injured witch’s eyes for a split second, and what she saw scared her more than anything. Of course Lilith’s face was contorted in pain, but there was also shame and embarrassment in her eyes. If I showed up in her state I’d be embarrassed too, but did she really think I wasn’t going to help her?

“Kid can you go upstairs and grab Lilith some clothes from my dresser? Anything you think will fit her is fine, and…” Eda leaned in next to Luz’s ear and in a low whisper “could you take your time? I’d like to talk to my sister in private”

Luz looked at her with understanding “Of course, if you need anything just yell up the stairs.” She eyed Lilith one more time before retreating back up the stairs.

Eda then turned back to Lilith, who seemed unwilling to meet her eye again. “Alright. Let’s get started, you look a mess, so this might hurt a lot more than a little.”

“Edalyn why are you doing this”

Eda chuckled “Have you seen yourself, I’ve never been the best at responsibility, but I think it would make me a bad person to not help someone in your condition.”

“No Eda, I mean why after everything that I did to you, to Luz, why are you still helping me when I am the last person you should want to help, I don’t understand.”

There was a heavy silence followed by a long exhale from Eda. She didn’t respond, instead moving for the pile of glyphs that Luz had left them. “This is going to hurt a lot, and I’m not going to be able to get it all without my magic, the glyphs only do so much, but I think I can make the worst of it at least better.”

For the second time that night Eda was stopped from touching Lilith by a pale shaking hand.

“Edalyn, why?”

“Ok here’s a deal, you let me help you and I’ll tell you why in the end? Sounds fair enough?”

“You really aren’t going to budge on this are you.”

“Nope.” Eda replied, popping her lips on the last syllable.

Lilith flopped back onto her back, shutting her eyes and exclaiming at the, without a doubt, excruciating pain the impact with the couch had caused.

“Real smooth Lils”

“Oh shut it.”

Somehow the older witch’s face turned even more red through the burns and boils.

Eda managed to get through placing glyphs along Lilith’s arms and legs with minimal issue, Lilith didn’t seem to be enjoying herself very much, but even she had to admit it was starting to look better. At some point Luz had come back down with a cream colored shirt and black patchwork skirt for Lilith to change into along with some more glyphs. Eda had sent her back to bed, the kid did have school in a few hours.

“Ok, we are going to have to take off your dress so I can reach your back, looks like that’s where most of the damage is, and…” as Lilith sat up Eda caught a glimpse of her full back “there also doesn’t seem to be all that much dress left to remove. You really got caught in the rain huh?”

Lilith didn’t respond, but instead met Eda’s eyes again, which made Eda suspicious.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes Lilith we have to treat your injuries.” Eda rolled her eyes at her sister, what did she expect when she was out in the rain without protection?

Lilith didn’t look amused, instead she seemed to pale out. She pulled down the top half of her dress and rolled over onto her stomach.

Eda gasped.

Lilith’s back was covered in burns and boils sure, but what shocked Eda was the array of scratches and claw marks all over Lilith’s back, not only her back but they seemed to go up and down her whole body in varying degrees. Some of them looked healed, or on the way there, some of them fresh, some of them even seemed to be infected.

“What the hell Li-”

Was all she got out before she was interrupted

“Forest demons aren’t as nice as they seem. Ever.”

Oh. Eda snapped her mouth shut and silently applied as many glyphs as she could to Lilith’s back and upper arms as she could. Of course, Eda thought, I didn’t let her stay here, she’s got no friends outside the coven, she doesn’t look different enough to find somewhere safe from the coven guard in town, especially not with her posters lining the alleyways, she’s been sleeping in the woods. Where else would she have gone. With their mother? Any number of nights in the forest without a roof was better than one night under their mom’s.

“Thank you.” a voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Huh? Oh.” Eda had been so busy thinking that she didn’t realize she had finished. “I’ll go to the kitchen to make us some tea, you can change in here, don’t worry about hooty he seems to be asleep.”

Lilith nodded and Eda made her way to the kitchen. Once the water was on the stove, she dove back into her thoughts. All these nights? I kicked her to the curb the night of the incident, it’s been at least a week, it’s rained almost every night. Oh titan, not all of those burns were fresh, that’s probably why Lilith was able to move at all, she was used to it. How has she been eating, bathing, sleeping? She’d been weakened by the splitting of the curse, could she have even defended herself? She could have come around any time- wait. Eda realized that she had told Lilith not to come anywhere near the house… ever again. That’s why she was so convinced she wouldn’t get help at the owl house. Maybe if I had been less harsh, it I hadn-

The whistle of the water being ready pulled Eda back to reality. She quickly placed the tea bags into the mugs and filled them with water and left the kitchen. When she got back to the living room, Lilith was already sitting in her dry clothes, a dim blue light escaping through the thin fabrics from the glow of the healing glyphs. Eda handed her a mug and brought her own to her lips, taking a long sip before sitting down next to her sister.

They sat like that for a while, sipping and waiting. Eventually, much to Eda’s surprise, Lilith broke the silence.

“So why?”

“Huh?” Eda replied, still deep in thought.

“Why did you decide to help me?” Lilith asked, looking into her mug as if it held all the answers “We both know I didn’t deserve it.”

“You’re right.” Eda replied simply. “You don’t deserve my help.”

Looking up from her tea and at her sister with genuine confusion, Lilith asked “So why did you help me then?”

“Let me finish. You don’t deserve my help. You cursed me, you kept your mouth shut about it for decades, until it was far too late, and in a desperate attempt to save your own ass you captured not only me, but my apprentice. My apprentice who I might as well call my own daughter at this point. You hurt her you know?”

Lilith’s eyes reverted back to her mug in shame.

“Oh yeah, she’s got bruises that aren’t even healed yet, that’s why she got looking into the healing glyphs. Plus, she faced Belos. She had to burn her only way home, she’s stuck here now. And me? I lost my magic. The most powerful witch on the boiling isles, now without the witch part.”

To emphasize her point, Eda drew a golden spell circle in the air, only for it to crumble into a pile of dust at her feet.

“Edalyn, I-”

“But,” the younger Clawthorne interjected, “that doesn’t make you a bad person, and I refuse to let it make me a bad person. I don’t know what your reasons were for cursing me, not telling me, I don’t know what Belos promised you, but it had to be pretty big to do what you did. And it’s my fault for not knowing. I kicked you out without even hearing you out, and you got hurt for it, I never even gave you a chance to explain yourself.”

It was Eda’s turn to avoid eye contact now, staring contemplatively into her now empty cup.

“It’s my fault you got hurt. That’s why I helped you. I was so caught up in my own anger that I didn’t think about the consequences of my actions. I’m still mad at you, and you’re far from forgiven, but I think you need help. Let me help you.”

For the first time in a long time, the two sisters met eyes in a moment of understanding.

“Ok.” Lilith said after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Good because I wasn’t really giving you a choice.”

They both laughed at that.

They sat for a moment, before it was finally Eda’s turn to speak first.

“So why’d you come here if you didn’t want my help?”

Lilith picked at her fingers for a moment before responding.

“I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t have anywhere else to go. It was so dark and so hot, I could barely even think, none of the other storms had gotten me this bad.”

Ah, so I was right. Eda regretted.

“It was like my feet took me here, all I knew was I needed to get out of the rain, and before I knew it I was in front of your house on my knees. I expected you to turn me away, I wanted you to turn me away.”

Eda didn’t know how to respond to that with anything other than “Why.”

Lilith thought for a moment.

“I guess I needed you to turn me away, I thought it might feel better to know that for once you would be the one leaving me in pain after 30 years of the roles being reversed, I think after all of that I deser-”

“No.” Eda interrupted. “I might not be the best sister, neither are you, but I will not ever let you suffer in any way remotely close to the way I did. Nobody deserves that, I sure as hell didn’t but neither do you. You will always have a place to stay with me, no matter how mad I am at you.”

They sat for a while longer, both deep in thought. Eventually Eda took both mugs back to the kitchen and rinsed them before going back to the living room, sitting next to Lilith one last time to help her out with the blankets.

“I think the shed is livable, the tower might be a bit too overgrown at the moment but we can work something out. You can stay on the couch tonight, no way you’re going back out into that. We can set ground rules in the morning, just try and get some sleep before the kid wakes up. She’s very excited about the new day, every day.” Eda spoke fondly.

“You really care for her, don’t you.” Lilith asked, a sad smile tugging on her lips.

“That I do. Goodnight Lilith.” Eda responded before stretching and cracking more joints than any one witch should physically be able to. “Woof, even sitting on that couch is enough to make me sore”

“I’m sure it’s just fine, thank you Edalyn, for everything. And goodnight.” Lilith said while trying to find a comfortable position on the lumpy couch. Her injuries, while significantly better, weren’t doing anything to help the situation. It wasn’t long before the soothing warmth of the healing glyphs lulled Lilith into a deep, dreamless sleep, much better than any she’d gotten on the forest floor.

Not even a few hours later, the sun shone on the owl house, waking Luz first, and if she was any quieter than normal that morning, or if she saw a certain gray haired owl lady sleeping on the floor next to Lilith’s position on the couch on her way out the door, she never mentioned it to a soul.

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - Whispers in the dark

The Leech takes everything and gives nothing.

It hates the twins in a way we can’t fathom, humans aren’t what it is. It doesn’t think or speak, it only feels, and the loathing that it pulses with towards these pathetic, broken insects that imprisoned and ripped it from the great song is incomprehensible.

No escape, no end, no way to be whole - just its warped voice split between two ignorant, useless parasites. It wants to hurt them, it wants them to suffer, so it gnaws at any flash of joy they experience. Tears apart what gives them comfort. 

...Eats them alive.

Tyreen’s great drive to find Pandora was fuelled by it, whispering promises of belonging, of family, of love into the ear of a teen who hadn’t felt any of those since Leda crumbled to ash by her feet. 

It insisted Typhon was wrong, the Bandit’s weren’t mad, they were lost. 

Everyone knows Pandorans are crazy. Everyone knows the "natives" that scour across the desert in warpaint and masks are a family of lost souls looking for belonging. The Leech whispers to Tyreen DeLeon that she could be their redemption, their mother, and she sets her plans to leave her prison planet in motion. They are her people, the abandoned and lonely it says. She can be their God.

It turned it’s teeth to the parts of Tyreen that were able to experience happiness the moment her feet touched Pandora’s dust and the Eridium it had been seeking to feed on didn’t respond. She was a dud. She was a broken, useless joke of a Siren host, and it raged.

Troy never stood a chance.

Without its presence he’d be naturally quiet, his low self esteem is part of his nature, though it would be manageable. The Leech hurts him through his flaws - the cracks in his ego. His own doubts creep into his worries, but once he reaches the end of that train of thought? It continues. He survives every day with something whispering horrific shit into his ear even as he struggles to find ways of dealing with his own negative feelings, his paranoia and insecurities. It twists the knife a little deeper with every hissed mockery, and it’s done it his whole life.

So it's.. sad. It's just sad. Troy covets so much that his companions have. Love, friendship, care, but he can’t accept what he wants so desperately. The Siren power takes that from him.

If someone like JK who he admires so much, who he has on a mental pedestal and wishes he could be more like, offhandedly mentioned something about him they admired? It’s robbed from him. He’d have the moment of disbelief, the embarrassed shyness, the excitement then embarrassment over the excitement, the stuttering and confusion and that kind of flushed cheek slightly teary eyed response from someone who’s terrible at accepting positive comments about themselves... but then it's the filth from The Leech just after.

The moment he had a flash of happiness and maybe the first blossom of something that could be considered pride, it would be there:

"̶ They're w̵r̴o̵n̵g̴,̴ ̸ or they are l̷y̶i̶n̶g̸.̵"̸  

̴"̸T̸h̸e̸y̵ ̴a̶r̶e  making fun of̵ ̵y̸o̴u̴. Y̵o̷u̵'̷r̵e not so stup̸i̶d̸ ̵t̸h̴a̷t you'd believe th̸i̶s̷,̶ ̶ you're smarter than that. Yo̴u̷'̴r̸e̸ ̷c̸l̵e̵ver.  ̴O̵f̴ ̷c̸o̴u̶r̷s̸e that's a lie, w̷h̷y̷ ̷w̴o̵u̷l̵d anyone actually look up to you? Brok̷e̵n̵ ̵b̴o̸d̷y̶,̴ ̶r̶otting soul, w̶e̵a̵k̴ ̸b̸o̴nes and failing lungs? They ei̶t̶h̸e̷r̴ ̶d̴o̷ n't know what they are saying or they are spitting in your fac̴e̸.̴ ̴Which is it?̵ ̸W̸h̴i̴c̷h do ̴y̵o̴u̴ ̵t̶h̵i̸n̴k̸ ̶i̶t̷ ̵i̵s̵?̸"̸

̷"̷O̸h̷,̴ ̴t̵h̴ey are your friend? Are they, Tr̸o̴y̵?̵ ̶W̴e̵ll, then they don't know. Tell the̶m̸ ̷exactly h̴o̸w̵ ̷ wrong they are so they won't ever make that mistake again. Te̷l̶l̶ ̶t̴h̶e̶m̸ ̸w̸h̶y̵ ̷n̷o̵ one s̸h̸o̵u̵l̸d̸ ̵want you. ̷I̵t̷'̸s̷ ̷o̸k̵ ̴t̸o̸ ̷b̶e̶ ̵a̴n̵g̸r̴y, they should have known better. It's their fault."

̷"̵I̴t̶'̶s̸ ̷t̷h̶e̵i̶r̷ ̸f̷a̵u̶l̶t̶.̷"̷

That’s what he's dealing with, always. With everything his entire life, and it's not even in real words he can argue back with it's just feeling. Ty echos the exact same shit to him audibly and he tries to stand against it, always has, but it’s so much harder internally. He still fights it though, he always tries. He's exhausted by how much he has to work to keep it under control without even understanding what he's constantly fighting, and it's so very hard.

Seifa can't explain it even when she’s seen it so for so long - the struggle. Can't put it into a sentence she can express to the others, but she gets it.. an inkling of it, seen it behind his eyes so many times. She’s seen.. eyes. Or maybe she’s just going mad, that’s a pretty likely option too.

Understanding the war raging inside Troy is why she asks what she does in an encrypted E-Com message the night she leaves. Begs Ven not to hate him even after everything.

She knows that if he wasn't constantly fighting as hard as he is, there would just be nothing of him left. Every single interaction would be a nightmare - constant aggression, jealousy, envy, hatred lashing out at everything.

For people looking from the outside he seems like a pathetic excuse for a man child, throwing tantrums and destroying rooms, but in reality these episodes of giving in are so rare compared to how often he fights it back.

He's surprisingly good at hiding it which is why he can come across "normal" sometimes and also means he's desperately empathetic, but he's just not experienced with people enough to place that empathy the right way very often, or respond to it in a way that helps and doesn't actually make things worse.

That’s one of the reason his companions do actually like him still, why he’s magnetic in such a bizarre way. There is a clear awareness this man genuinely adores the few people who are kind enough to tolerate him and is trying, but there's a balance to consider. It doesn't matter if he's painfully aware he's driving people away if he doesn't correct the behavior doing it.

On top of everything really, there's Tyreen.

Ty's defacto way of dealing with feeling any competition for Troy's attention is to just remove the competitor. It’s always been that way from the day she first felt the pang of unease when he started talking to Seifa after a month of them recovering on her ship.

Troy.. . Troy talks to her, not other people, Troy is her brother, Troy is PART of her, why is it fair that he not be there when she needs him? When she’s lonely, when she needs his stupid smile and his terrible jokes and that pathetic stutter...

But she can't make the people he slowly befriends leave, they are all in positions of power where she isn't able to make them vanish without it being noticed, so she defaults to her second method.

Turn him on them.

For all his bullshittery, Troy tolerates about 6 years of having Tyreen lying to him in private about how the others see him, how much they care. Subtle, knife sharp, and building in viciousness over time till by late COV when he begins to fall apart, it's abusive mental warfare - and he never turns on them.

He breaks, he fucks up, he thinks Seifa is gone forever, he hurts JK, he works Ven to dust, but he never once turns on them in the way Tyreen has been seeding for years. He doesn't let her win even though he refuses to even admit he's aware what she's doing and how many times it’s happened in the past one way or another.

So shit piling up in those 2 years without Sei, the strain from Ty, the weird shift from media to murder to chasing a fucking VAULT, the no sleep, the fear for his friends even when he's also losing the fight against the thing that makes him spit venom at them?

He just can't do it forever.

The Leech takes everything and gives nothing.

Asks are open!

[allthingshetalia]

Can you write sergeant Prussia confessing his love to a cadet and she likes him also but is afraid and says no. Then Prussia gets mad and makes her do extra hard, not letting her finish eating and already making her run or sth. He overall makes her psychically and mentally exhausted and she collapses due to not eating enough not sleeping and working too hard. Prussia finds out she collapsed and rushes to see her and apologizes after the doctor tells him what is wrong with her. I 💗 your writing!

💕I love this idea! Thank you💕

“She passed out from exhaustion. She also appears to be extremely dehydrated. She has also lost quite a bit of weight since her last check up and that was only 2 1/2 weeks ago. We recommend she takes a week to rest and slowly works back into training. Right now she needs lots of sleep, water and some hearty meals.” The doctors explained. Sergeant Beilschmidt nodded his head, as he stood outside the curtain of your ‘room,’ in the hospital ward.

He sent you out for a 5 mile run. He claimed it was because you sucked at pushups earlier that day, but both of you knew the real reason. When you didn’t come back within 20 minutes he began to worry. So he called someone to go and check on you to make sure you didn’t skip out, well that’s what he told them. He Secretly wondered if you got lost or hurt. Apparently they found you lying face first in the mud.

He immediately went to check on you, and found a doctor that explained what had happened. He felt nauseous as the doctor told him what had actually happened. It was his fault. He knew he was working you hard but he didn’t realize how hard. He loves you very, very, very much, but when you rejected him it stored something inside him, a dark part of him he always hated. It was always hard for him to be vulnerable, and when he confessed his feelings to you it was a very vulnerable moment, and you shot him down.

“Can I go in and check on her?” He asked. His hand already gripped the curtain before the doctors replied.

“Of course.” The doctors smiled.

He cringed as he saw you were still covered in mud. It was plastered to the side of your face and your hair. You were very pale, your eyes were traced with deep bags and your lips were chapped.

“Can I get a bowl of water and a few towels?” He asked poking his head out of the curtain. A nearby nurse quickly nodded her head and went off to get the supplies. She soon came back and set it on the small tray near your bed. “Thank you.” Gilbert grumbled. He dipped the towel in the water and softly began to scrub at the mud stuck to your face. Once he did that he soaked another towel and tried his best to scrap as much mud as he could out of your hair. He also took it out of the bun you had, knowing it probably wasn’t comfy to sleep on. Once he sat on the chair right next to your bed.

It had been two days. You had yet to wake up. He spent as much time as he could with you. When he wasn’t training he was with you. He even ate his meals right next to you. He scrubbed your face everyday, making sure to get the eye boogers out. He got some chapstick for you and he even fell asleep in his chair. He held your hand as he slept, and that was how you woke up.

“Mmm.” You groaned. Your eyelids opened slowly. Wherever you were was fairly dark, and you were thankful for that. Your body felt heavy, like a rock was laying on you. Your eyes had no trouble adjusting to the darkness. You could hear footsteps going past you. A light squeeze of your hand caused you to look to your right. You immediately recognized a mop of silver hair and you quickly pulled your hand away. This caused him to wake up.

“You’re awake?” He groaned. He sat up and stretched. He shuffled around a little and a dim light flickered on from the lamp next to your bed. You quickly covered your eyes. “Sorry.” He mumbled. You pulled the covers up over you face, so you were hiding from him. He sighed deeply from next to you. “Y/N.” Please don’t do that.” He sighed. He pulled away the covers from you and you didn’t have much strength to fight him. “Are you thirsty? Hungry?” He asked. You shot him a glare.

“Like you care.” You rasped. You swallowed thickly trying to soothe the pain you felt after speaking. He closed his eyes tightly. He got up and left and you felt a little at piece. But it was short lived when he came back with two cups. One was filled with apple juice and another one was a cup of ice. He poked a straw in the apple juice and held it up to your mouth. You grabbed the whole cup from him and drank greedily. He quickly took the cup back from you.

“Not so fast.” He scolded.

“You’re not the boss of me.” You grumbled. Even though you were angry you leaned forward and took the straw in your mouth and continued to drink.

“Well the uniform says different.” He chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood.

“Not anymore. I’m quitting. I have a medical reason. I’ll just say I physically can’t do it. Don’t worry i won’t blame you.” You growled. His heart ached painfully in his chest. “Congrats you won.” You sighed, resting back down against the pillow. He put the empty apple juice down on the table.

“How did I win?” He asked softly. You turned your head to look at him. He was staring intensely into your eyes. His ruby eyes encompassed the same emotions as when you rejected him.

“This is obviously what you wanted. To break me and make me suffer. You wanted me gone.” You spat. “You could lie and say it’s heartbreak but we both know it’s your ego. Can’t handle being rejected.” You continued. You stared up at the ceiling for a long moment before he spokez

“Is that how lowly you think of me?” He shuddered. You looked at him expecting to see anger but the only thing you saw was tear filled eyes. Your eyes widened as he stared at you in despair. “I know I can be difficult and hard on people- especially you, but I am not some cold hearted monster that you believe I am. I made a mistake. You’re right I couldn’t handle being rejected. But not because of my ego. Because I love you. I know it’s hard to believe after I ended up placing you in the hospital. I guess a part of me just wanted you to suffer like how I was suffering.” He sighed and leaned forward resting his elbows on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t have to believe my words. But you do need to know that I am terribly sorry for what I did. I never wanted to hurt you. You have made me see, feel and think things I never have before. And I’m sorry that this is how I repay you.” He got up from his seat and grabbed his coat off of the foot of your bed throwing it on. He slowly walked over to you and placed a gentle kiss against your head. You felt a little drop of wetness one your forhead but he quickly brushed it away. He swiftly turned off the light and pulled back the curtain leaving you.

Tears fell from your own eyes at his confession. Sure you always had a crush on him. But you never knew he truly felt that way about you. You kinda thought he just wanted to get in your pants, so he was just spewing nonsense. You rolled over in your bed and hugged the pillow tightly against your frame. After who knows how long of being asleep you where no longer tired. So you just laid there, crying and eating ice chips.

✨Time skip✨

You grinned at your friends who welcomed you back. After spending the last week in the hospital you had a lot of time to think, about you, your work, Gilbert, everything. The nurse told you how he barely left your side for two days. That made you realize maybe he did really mean what he said. And you decided that if he broke your heart, it would be no ones fault but your own.

You quickly made your way inside the large air conditioned building. Walking through many long hallways and going up an elevator to the very top floor you stopped infront of a large familiar door. ‘Sergeant Beilschmidt’ was written in large bold letters on the plaque attached to the door. You knocked loudly.

“Come in”. He shouted. You opened the door and peaked your head in. He was looking down at his desk staring at some papers. You closed the door behind you and cleared your throat.

He looked up and your heart dropped when you got a look at his face. His eyes were dull, compared to the fire they always held. He had dark circle sunder his eyes and his nose was red and irritated. His uniform was still perfect. His eyes lightened up a little seeing you, but that quickly diminished as he grabbed a stack of papers off the corner of his desk.

“Here are your resignation papers.” He muttered. “I filled everything out, all I need are your signatures.” You sat down in one of the large seats infront of his desk.

“I don’t want to leave.” You stated. He smiled at you softly. “I do what to be transferred to a different Sergeant/group whatever it’s called.” His smile instantly faltered.

“Of course”. He gave you a small smile, despite the sad look in his eyes.

“Well it wouldn’t be fair to everyone if I got special treatment because we were together.” You smiled. His head shot up from his paperwork.

“Is that another trick?” He mumbled suspiciously. You bit your lips and shook your head.

“If you still want to, I want to.” You smiled softly. He nodded his head quickly, the familiar spark in his eyes coming back.

“I would love that! And I promise no more hospitals- unless you’re having my baby of course.” He chuckled. You rolled your eyes.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I’m still mad at you, ya know.” You scolded.

“I don’t blame you.” He leaned over his desk his face serious. “What can I do go make it up to you?” He asked softly. You leaned forward too so your forhead were pressed together.

“How about dinner and a ice cream?” You chuckled.

“You have yourself a deal.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

[jjkfire]

Obey

Reader x Taehyung // mafia!AU // 8k words

Summary: You’re the agency’s worst escort and yet the local mafia’s head of security still chooses you

Genre: Smut, Fluff (?)

A/N: how long has this been sitting in my drafts? too long. anyway, smut? who is she? i forgot.

Having to pay off loan sharks and save up for graduate school isn’t exactly easy. Your day job pays you good money but the interest on the illegal loan your estranged father left you with, compounds with each growing day. You knew coming back to your hometown had been a mistake but with your mother’s recent death, you didn’t know where else to go. Who knew that when you returned, you’d be slapped with a debt so big that you couldn’t even dream of paying it off? You haven’t seen your father since you were 4 but that didn’t stop the loan sharks. They needed their money back and you were his only available next of kin. You needed more money and you needed it quick. That’s why when your co-worker, Seokjin tells you of an opening at the local escort agency, you jump at the chance.

Seokjin is an angel, that much you’re convinced. He’s pulled so many strings just for you and you don’t think there’s any way you can ever repay his kindness. He pretty much runs the HR side of things for the escort agency and is the only reason why you’ve been allowed to get away with most of the nonsense that you do. In summary, you’re a horrible escort and Jin covers for you every time.

The local escort agency is a rather interesting organization. It serviced mainly the local mafia boys, providing the men with entertainment every time they stopped by the lounge. Whatever it was they were interested in doing for the night, be that gambling, karaoke or even just plain old drinking, the lounge was the place for that. All the newbies to the escort agency were often made to work most nights, servicing these men. 

The job was simple. You were basically glorified arm candy. You would bring the boys their drinks, let them touch your butt a little or let them kiss your neck if they wanted to and then go home with a few extra hundred-dollar bills. Now just as all the other girls, clients could choose to call you up and rent you for a night. Yet, you’ve made it a whole year without that happening. Any other one of the escorts would be upset about that because everyone knows you get more money if you actually spent the night with someone. It’s a bit of a talent of yours, turning clients away from you without putting yourself in jeopardy but this time around, you seem to have run out of luck.

Tonight, you find yourself standing in line with 4 other girls, facing a double-sided mirror. It’s common practice for when someone high up in the mafia hierarchy was looking for a new plaything… or so you’ve been told. This is your first time ever being in this room. To put off the client, you chose an ill-fitting dress for the night. You hadn’t even bothered to put on make-up either. Your agency has long stopped trying to tell you what to do. Lord knows Jin has given up months ago. Anyway, you’re not sure why you’re even here. You rarely— or more accurately, never got selected from the binder because you had made it a mission to make yourself sound rather boring, unappealing even and you even made sure to be extremely honest about your lack of sexual prowess.

Yet, despite all of that, you were selected… and by Kim Taehyung no less. See, this time you were actually nervous. No one had seen you in this state before, actually trembling.

Last week

“Why was my profile even in the binder? Don’t you usually offer some sort of premium binder with only the best girls to clients as important as him?” You ask Jin as you pace up and down his office.

“We did but then he asked for the general binder. Said that he didn’t quite trust our taste.”

“Honestly, my profile shouldn’t even be in the binder anymore,” You groan.

Truth is, you shouldn’t even be an employee anymore but they needed pretty faces to entertain the boys. See, you wanted the money from being an escort but you weren’t quite sure about the sex part. The last boyfriend you had, had made sure you were painfully aware at how bad you were at pleasing men. So, you and Jin came up with the master plan to help you become an escort without really being one. Together you curated your profile, making sure that the men would skip right past your page when going through the binder of girls they could select from. It’s worked so far. You’ve fooled every single man that’s gone through the binder… except Taehyung of course.

Seokjin and every living, breathing soul had told you to keep your distance from him. See, Taehyung was the Head of Security for the local mafia. That meant he was the fixer. If there was a problem in any form, that being a situation or even a person, he would make the problem disappear. Easy, fast, quick. Taehyung embodied efficiency. They said he worked like a robot, pulling the trigger with absolutely no remorse. So, the word on the street was if you just so much as breathe wrongly in his presence, he could end you right there, right then. Around him, mistakes weren’t allowed and thus, you were told that if you ever got selected to be his regular, your life expectancy would sink like a rock.

You should’ve listened, you really should’ve. You should’ve found other ways to keep yourself busy but it’s not your fault that the girls didn’t give you a good enough description of him the first night you met him. They said tall and dangerous but to you, Taehyung seemed anything but dangerous.

There were girls aplenty that night you were working the lounge. You slipped away into the other room, knowing full well that you wouldn’t be missed. You arranged and rearranged the strawberries and assorted snacks on the many different plates. You twisted and turned all the alcohol bottles laid out and read their labels over and over just to pass time. You munched on the snacks, humming a tune as you looked out the window to see the town you call home. It’s not until you saw Taehyung in the reflection that you jumped in your spot, quickly swallowing what you had in your mouth before dusting your dress off any crumbs.

“C-can I get anything for you? Whiskey, maybe?” You asked with a smile despite the fact that you had been caught red-handed slacking on the job.

“A double shot gin and tonic would be nice,” He smiled and you got to work immediately. You were stirring the tall glass soon after, ready to lead him into the main room but he made himself comfortable on one of the couches behind you instead.

“It’s getting a little rowdy out there,” He laughed. “You know how Jimin gets when he’s having a good game of blackjack.”

You only nodded, laughing before you set down his drink in front of him. You stood awkwardly before him, unsure if you were meant to join him or return to the main room. As if sensing your unease, he called for you to take a seat.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” He hummed, stirring his drink. “Are you new?”

“Me? Oh, I’ve been here a few months already so not exactly new… but I’m Y/N,” You smiled, introducing yourself.

“Taehyung,” He grinned in return and he watched your eyes go wide, like you had a moment of realization. “Judging by your expression, you’ve heard of me?”

“Y-yeah… You’re the Head of Security. A very important man,” You laughed but he could sense the fear behind your laughter.

Though you were awkward at first, you quickly became comfortable. Taehyung was easy to be around, interesting to talk to and with every night you saw him, the two of you only grew closer. He would often find you in the back room, the same way he found you the first time, munching away on snacks meant for him and the boys. The two of you would be lost in your own world, talking about anything from conspiracy theories to sports to world politics and even local gossip. That’s not to say all the two of you ever did was talk. Sometimes he had his hand halfway up your skirt, your lips melding against his, moving at a set rhythm until you pull away, breathless, but aching for more. You guess you didn’t actually mind it. Taehyung was easy on the eyes, and that was an understatement. If anything it was sure as hell better than being fondled by some 50 year old guy. Maybe it also had to do with the fact that you were inexperienced, that this was the most action you’ve gotten since you broke up with your boyfriend more than 3 years ago. If anything, it was an ego boost. Who would say no to making out with someone like him? The answer is well… almost everybody, but contrary to what everyone said, Taehyung seemed harmless. In fact, he was rather sweet. Always taking his time with you, always respectful.

You believed it, you really did. You understood that Taehyung might be a ruffian at work but when it was just you and him, he was anything but. Jin had to sit you down and really knock some sense into you, detailing his crimes, reiterating stories he had heard. He was ruthless, a maniac. Someone who would slit your throat without hesitation. Jin said you and the other girls had to understand that if Taehyung picked any one of you, there was no room for anything but perfection. You knew among the 5 girls that he had chosen, you were the weakest link and for your sake, everyone prayed he wouldn’t choose you because if he did, it was game over. It wasn’t just your life at risk you see, it was everyone’s. If Taehyung was unhappy with the service, after dealing with you, the next to go would be Jin and given Taehyung’s reputation, everyone would follow suit. It won’t be you, you mumbled. He wasn’t stupid. The boys talk about the escorts among themselves. He must know that any of the other girls would be a much better choice. You were worrying for nothing, you smiled. It wasn’t going to be you, you were confident it wasn’t.

“Y/N,” Jin hears Taehyung say through his earpiece. With unsteady fingers, he points at you and Taehyung gives an affirmation.

When Jin grabs you by the hand, attempting to lead you out of the room, you hesitate. You were so sure you weren’t going to be chosen, not when you were standing next to what were the top stars of the agency. Panic rises within you because you’re not ready for this responsibility. You couldn’t have the fate of the agency resting in your hands.

“I have herpes!” You shout, lying, eyes roaming around the double-sided mirror, not knowing where exactly he was standing. “Tell him I have herpes,” You tell Jin who winces when you tug his arm with urgency.

“He says he doesn’t care,” Jin mumbles, tapping at his earpiece.

“W-wait— Taehy—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because Jin is already dragging you out of the room. He wears an expression you’ve never seen before. It’s anger and fear, all mixed into one and when he pins you with his stare, you choose to look at your feet.

The elevator ride is silent, the doors opening with a ding when it reaches the top floor, the suite reserved for only the best clients. The last time you were in here was for a training session. You were taught how to work the room. Where to sit, what to do, how to entice the men. You struggle to remember most of it now, not when you’re thinking of how you were going to even survive tonight.

“Jin, please, you need to do something,” You whine, almost thrashing in your spot when you stop in front of the door. “Tell him something, tell him—”

“Stop making a scene! There’s nothing I can do now, do you understand?” Jin grumbles, shaking you. “Listen once you go into that room, I can’t really protect you anymore. You know what he’s capable of so, keep that pretty trap of yours shut.”

You simply nod, suddenly rendered mute by the warning. Before shutting the door on you, Jin flashes you a thumbs up, trying to look optimistic but you know more than anyone that he’s scared. In some way, he feels responsible for all of this and god, if anything happens to you, he’s not sure he can forgive himself. With shaky legs, you step further into the room, scanning the suite for a place to sit. Your eyes snap to the bed and you assume that’s where he would want you to be. It’s where you’ve been taught to sit anyway.

It isn’t long before you hear the door creak, Taehyung stepping into the room with a soft smile on his lips. He greets you and all you do is wave dumbly. God, you’re absolutely adorable. While unbuttoning his blazer, he realizes you look different tonight. The expression you wear mimics the one you had on the first time he met you. Fear. He could see it on every inch of your face.

“I uhh— I have herpes,” You mumble, again, as a last-ditch effort.

“I know you don’t,” Taehyung sighs, holding up a piece of paper that you know holds the results from the STD test that the agency made you go for just a few days ago.

“How are you so sure? The test results could be fabricated.”

“Oh your agency wouldn’t dare,” He laughs, placing his blazer on the back of a chair.

“Maybe I slept with someone last night,” You mumble, shuffling your feet. You mean to sound confident but it comes out sounding as anything but that.

“Yeah? And how was it then?” He asks as he removes his gun from his waistband, setting it down on the table. The sight makes Jin’s numerous warnings sound in your head again. This was no time to lie, no time to joke.

“Mustn’t have been that great if it’s taking you so long to answer,” He chuckles, noting your silence.

“I-I didn’t sleep with anyone last night,” You sigh, hands folding nervously in your lap.

Taehyung simply laughs before striding over to take a seat next to you. You’re nervous that much he can tell. You can’t even look him in the eye.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He murmurs, and you gulp, forcing yourself to look at him just so you can nod.

At that, he smiles. He stands up and makes his way over to the ice bucket tucked in the corner of the room.

“Champagne?”

“Yes, please.”

That’s the only sentence you’ve said so far with absolute certainty.

He walks over, glass of champagne in one hand and plate of strawberries in another. You accept them both meekly. Twirling the glass of champagne in your hand while you munch on a strawberry.

You’re a nervous eater and drinker. You knocked back glasses of champagne and almost cleared the whole plate of strawberries on your own.

“I have a feeling you don’t do this very often,” Taehyung smiles, refilling your glass for what must’ve been the 5th time now.

“H-huh? Oh, um, sorry,” You mumble as you snap into action. You tug your dress a little lower by the cleavage before you move up on the bed. You move slow, Taehyung watching as you kick off your shoes. Taking your time, you lay on your side, shoulders rolled back so your chest was on display. Your other hand slides to rest on your hip, before it slides down lower, drawing his attention to what he wanted the most. With your champagne still in hand, you put on a sultry expression, one you’ve been coached to make. Your free hand reaches for a strawberry, stopping to lick your lips just after a bite.

Taehyung takes a seat on the bed, laughing as he shook his head. When he turns to look at you, he sees a frown on your face. You didn’t understand. You did everything they told you to do. He was supposed to be smirking, not laughing. Taehyung pats the spot next to him, beckoning you over to take a seat.

“It doesn’t suit you,” He hums, when you’re finally at his side. “The whole sexy act they teach you girls to put on.”

“But, I-I’m plenty sexy,” You pout. You knew you weren’t a bombshell like some of the other girls were but you had your… well, charm.

“You are, you are,” He grins, pulling you onto his lap with ease as he’s done many times before. “I never said you weren’t. I just think you’re sexier when you’re doing your own thing, not whatever they teach you,” He hums as he pulls you in closer, his chest now flush against your back.

“But the act is what you boys like,” You mumble, as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “You know, we flash some skin, sway our hips, wink a little and by then you’ll all be drooling already.”

Taehyung lets out a breathy laugh, one hand wrapped around your centre while the other reaches for his champagne glass. He simply clinks his glass against yours with a smile.

“I can’t deny that,” He sighs after setting aside both his glass and yours. “But you see I much prefer you like this. Disobedient and sassy.”

You can’t see his face but you can almost imagine the smirk he’s wearing right now. It’s the one he always flashes you when he’s busy ogling you. His fingers toy with the sleeves of your dress that sit awkwardly on your shoulder, slipping them off with practised ease, as if he does this all the time and you sit there in his lap, too afraid to move.

“T-Taehy—"

There’s a hum of approval that leaves his lips, when your dress pools at your waist, his fingers brushing the underside of your bra. He peppers your shoulder with kisses, moving along until he reached your neck, his lips moving slow, leaving marks that you are sure will show tomorrow. Your breath stutters, quiet moans leaving your lips as his hand moves up to wrap around your throat. It’s right and it’s wrong. You want to but you can’t and you mean to stay silent but you can’t help but say what’s been on your mind since he stepped into the room.

“I haven’t had sex in years,” You blurt out, your eyes shut tight as you feel his lips pull away, the grip around your neck now loose as his hand drops back to your waist.

“I don’t know if they lied on my profile but I genuinely haven’t done it in years,” You sigh, hands toying with the material of your dress. They must’ve lied on your profile. Otherwise, Taehyung would’ve never picked you. “And I know they give us ratings, in terms of how good we are in bed and—”

“They rated you a 1/10.”

“Really? Wh—wha— T-That’s mean. I think I’m at least a solid three,” You huff. Three was the arbitrary number you and Jin had decided on because you were bad, but you weren’t that bad. “Anyway, that’s not my point.”

“What is your point then, love?” He asks and you twist in his lap to look at him. His hold on you is still tender, hands softly sitting on your hips.

“There’s a girl we have, Mirae. She’s a 10/10. Everyone that’s been with her, loves her.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with her. She was in the final line-up,” Taehyung mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What did she have to do with anything the two of you were doing right now?

“Exactly! You can just call them up, say you’re dissatisfied with me and ask for Mirae,” You smile. “They’ll send her right up.”

“But I’m not dissatisfied with you,” He frowns, utterly at a loss at why you would think so.

“O-okay, but she’s a guarantee 10/10 will blow your mind type of girl,” You mumble.

Your gaze is fixed somewhere else, as if you were too afraid to look him in the eye. It’s odd. You seemed to have had no problems being in his presence all the weeks prior to this. Maybe he was just so caught up in his own emotions to realize that you wanted none of this. Though, he’s sure that’s not the case. Most of the times he had you in his lap in the lounge, you’d be moaning into his mouth as you kissed him back as fervently as he did. You’d drive him crazy, grinding down on him as if you wanted more, moaning sinful things into his ears.

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No… no, not at all.”

“So then do I scare you?”

“Not exactly,” You murmur, fingers pinching at your dress. “It’s just… you’re an important guy a-and we strive to impress. I also can’t afford to lose this job,” You mumble, eyes downcast.

“So you think you’re going to lose this job if I’m not impressed?”

“It’s a possibility, yes.”

“I’ll tell them you were a 10/10 mind blowing experience even if you were atrocious if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, as if hope was gleaming in them and at that he could only smile. My god, you had him wrapped around your finger and you didn’t even know it.

“A-and you can’t take it out on anyone at the agency,” You mumble.

“You have my word, love,” He grins, nodding. “And I am always a man of my word.”

See, he’s anything but dangerous. You didn’t understand why everyone sees him as some type of monster.

“So,” He hums, twisting you back into your original spot, his chest pressed against your back once more. “Now back to business. You said you haven’t had sex in years? Is that why you’re always dripping even when all we’ve been doing is kissing?”

“I-I do not know what you’re talking about.”

Taehyung laughs, lips tucked between his teeth when you attempt to shrink away.

“There’s no need to be shy about it,” He smiles, hands moving down towards your thigh. His fingers massage your inner thighs, slowly making its way up. They creep higher and higher and you whimper, especially so when he lets out a breathy laugh. “So, you decided to skip the panties today,” He notes when he finds nothing but your smooth skin. His fingers move through your folds, making you squirm in his hold. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t want any of this.”

“I… I ran out of time,” You mumble. “Couldn’t find a clean pair.”

Taehyung snorts, shaking his head. You surely are an interesting character.

“I’m not complaining,” He smirks. “It just makes my job easier.”

Taehyung surely takes his time, his fingers moving at a glacial pace as his lips continue their work on your neck. You want to tell him to speed it up, to do something because you needed your 3-year drought to come to an end.

“You have something to say?” He questions as you continue to whine and fidget.

“I want more,” You murmur.

“More? More what, love?”

You know he’s just teasing. He knows what you want. How could he possibly not.

“Tell me, what do you want? Is it my fingers in your pussy?” He smirks, plunging two of them into you without any warning whatsoever and you moan, your eyebrows knit together at the sensation. “Or do you want me to touch you here? Work this until you’re sore and begging me to stop?” He queries, his thumb beginning to rub your clit in tight circles. You screw your eyes shut at the feeling, your hand fisting the sheets by your side as you spread your legs wider. God, it’s been too long, you think to yourself. This could hardly compare to your nightly routine of rubbing one out yourself under the blanket. The way his fingers stretch you when he curls them upwards makes you feel delirious and all you can do is mumble his name over and over. His thumb rubs tighter, faster circles against your bundle of nerves and you bite down on your lip to muffle the choked noises that threaten to spill out of your mouth.

“Look at you, you’re making such a mess,” He murmurs into your ear. The way his lips ghosts the shell of your ear makes a shiver run through you. His lips slowly moves down to leave marks on your neck, his tongue laving across the spots he’s decorated your skin with. “You’re dripping all over. Is it because you haven’t been touched in a while or because you’ve never been touched like this at all?”

You can’t answer, not when he’s doing all of that. Your mouth hangs open, almost as if you’re trying to answer him but all that leaves your throat are soft moans. Taehyung only laughs, his free hand moving to unbuckle your bra, fingers pinching your nipples when you finally help him rid yourself of the bra.

“Answer me, love,” He grins, teasing your nipple again, the act eliciting yet another moan out of you. “Has anyone else made you feel like this?”

“N-no,” You manage to say. “M-my ex wasn’t into anything other than doing it in the doggy position.”

“That’s a shame,” He sighs. “He never got to see you like this, moaning and whimpering, all desperate for more,” He hums, his hand abandoning your chest to move up to your throat, squeezing it lightly.

“I’m gonna cum,” You choke out as you begin to see white behind your eyelids, your legs trembling as he picks up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with fervour.

“Not yet, love. You only cum when I say so.”

“I c-cant—”

“Ah, but you will,” He mumbles, adding a third finger, making you let out a choked sob. He wears an evil smirk as he teases your breast with his hand, his fingers moving to pinch your nipple harshly. You let out a whimper, your head lolling back as you try to ignore the tension in the pit of your stomach that threatens to snap.

“Please, please Taehyung, I—" Your sentence is cut short by a moan because he presses against your clit harder, rubbing figure eights at a pace that almost makes you go limp. You can feel your control begin to slip, your legs trembling as the pressure building in your abdomen finally snaps and you see nothing but hot white behind your eyelids. You’re panting, grinding down onto Taehyung’s lap as a slew of cuss words escape you. The man is relentless, his digits curling into your walls, his thumb still continuing on at its furious pace as you climb down from your high.

“I guess you’re not very good at following orders,” Taehyung sighs, clicking his tongue as he finally stops, pulling his hand away from your sopping pussy. He brings his hand up to your mouth, forcing you to lick clean your juices off his fingers and you do, tongue moving across them as you suck. “Dirty girl,” He smirks, pulling his digits out of your mouth before he grabs you by the waist, twisting you in his lap so you were facing him again.

“So what shall we do with you, hmm?” He prompts, his hold tender but his gaze otherwise. “I don’t take too kindly to disobedient sluts,” He huffs, removing his hold on you to loosen the tie he’s been wearing. You gulp, almost trembling because you couldn’t quite tell what he was going to do next. With the tie still in his hands, he reaches over to lift you up off his lap, urging to make yourself at home higher up the bed. He smirks, eyeing you in all your glory and with a single finger he points at your dress still pooled at your waist. You nod in understanding, discarding it without him having to say a single word. There was no more room for mistakes.

“This time when I say you only cum when I say so, I hope you listen,” He exhales as he stands up to unbuckle his pants. “Unless of course, you wish to be punished,” He smiles, devilishly so, as he unbuttons his shirt, tossing the tie onto the bed.

“N-no, I don’t,” You mumble, stuttering, unsure exactly what kind of punishment he meant. Did he mean punishment as in he would put a bullet in your skull or punishment as in a light spank on the ass? Though the latter sounds tempting, you’re not willing to find out just what he has in store for you in case of your disobedience. “I’ll be good,” You murmur, hypnotized when he rids himself of his pants and boxers, his cock slapping against his stomach.

“Will you?” He hums, hands wrapped around his member, groaning as he pumps himself a few times, precum leaking out of the tip. You watch, mesmerized, almost drooling as he pads over closer to you. “But you know, I can’t help but think I’m being too easy on you.”

You freeze in your spot, unsure of what to do next. Luckily for you, Taehyung does all the work. With his back sinking into the pillows, he pulls you onto his lap again but this time you’re facing him.

“See, this isn’t the first time. You’re always defiant, sassy, and I can’t count the number of times I’ve wanted to fuck you stupid when we were in the lounge just so you could understand who you were dealing with,” He hums, rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. You shiver, biting your lip as you could feel it just mere centimetres away from where you wanted it to be.

“Then do it,” You tease, hand slipping down to guide his length to your entrance because if he was going to leave you waiting for so long, he obviously needed help. Taehyung only laughs at that, slapping your hand away. He guides you onto your back, pinning your hands above your head as he leaves kisses down the valley of your breasts, only stopping because he can hear you release a shaky exhale.

“Oh, I will,” He smirks, pulling away to line up his cock to your pussy. He starts slow, teasing you as he rubs his cock against your core, groaning as your juices coated his length. You whine, about to demand him to do something but before you can say anything, he plunges into you, thrusting upwards in one swift motion, giving you no time to adjust to his size. You gasp, mouth hanging open as you let out a choked sob. “Baby, I’ll fuck you so good, so hard but only if you promise to listen.”

“I-I will,” You whimper, soft moans filling up the room as he rocks against you slowly.

“Good,” He mumbles before his tongue envelops one of your nipples. “Now keep your hands there. No touching until I say so.”

You only nod in response, barely able to hear him as your mind goes blank, his cock brushing against the spot that made your toes curl. Your body felt like it was on fire, his touch making you keen against him, his lips making your mind grow hazy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, eyes screwed shut as he delivers on his promise, thrusting into you so hard that you could almost feel him in your throat. He lifts your legs up over his shoulder and god, you didn’t think he could make you feel any better but as he buries his cock into you to the hilt, you can only moan in return. Taehyung whines, meeting your tongue in a sloppy kiss, lips moving against yours with fervour. It takes everything in you to not reach out to tug at his hair, to pull him closer. You needed him, wanted him.

“Tae, I-I want—” You manage to choke out between kisses but he silences you with his lips.

“More?” He asks, laughing breathily as he pulls out halfway before he slams back into you. Your eyes roll back as he does it a few more times, rendering you silent apart from the long moans that leave you without your consent. “You’re a greedy little slut, aren’t you?”

“Tae,” You murmur, your walls clenching around him as he thrusts deeper, harder.

“Don’t do that, baby. Not yet,” He warns, slipping a thumb into your mouth. You nod, tongue wrapping around it as you suck. Fuck, you were driving him insane. His other hand holds onto your waist with a grip so tight you’re sure it’ll bruise tomorrow. You could care less, especially when he was making you feel this good. You could already feel it, the coil in your stomach being held together solely by your will threatening to release, your muscles tightening and Taehyung warns you once more when you clench around him yet another time.

“Be good,” He grumbles, his grip on your waist tightening and you wail, nodding as you focus on keeping yourself together. You lace your hands through his hair, finding purchase on whatever you can, as if doing any of that could help you from falling apart.

“What did I say about touching?” Taehyung growls, as he pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden emptiness. Your eyes snap open, eyebrows tucked together in worry as Taehyung sighs, reaching for his tie at the end of the bed.

“S-sorry, I was just trying to—”

Taehyung isn’t interested in your excuses. He flips you over, almost as if you weighed nothing, quickly pinning your hands behind your back.

“Since you have trouble listening, let me help you,” He mumbles, using his necktie to tie your hands together, the soft silk digging into your wrists as he double knots it. He huffs, lifting you by the waist so you were now on your knees, the side of your face still pressed to the mattress. “I knew I was being too easy on you,” He mumbles, hand splayed over your ass that was now on show for him. Without warning, he brings his hand down harshly onto the flesh of your ass, making you tuck your lips between your teeth, partially muffling your moan.

“So, are you going to behave now?”

“Yes!” You cry, nodding into the sheets.

“No more chances,” Taehyung mumbles. “Next time you disobey me, I’m going to leave you high and dry, begging me to make you cum.”

You don’t even have the chance to say anything because Taehyung wastes no time, hand around your neck as his cock pushes past your folds, filling you up once again.

“Fuuuck,” You moan as he thrusts into you, his fat cock stretching you out deliciously. You clench your fists, wrists struggling against his necktie because all you wanted right now was to tug at his hair or dig your nails into his skin. God, he was driving you insane.

His hand around your neck isn’t there to choke you but more so he could find leverage to slam into you harder. You whimper and whine, legs threatening to give way with every time he thrusts into you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve thought about you like this,” He groans. “All pretty and obedient for me, moaning my name. So fucking good for me.”

The latter part of his sentence is punctuated by his thrusts, his arm wrapped around your centre helps hold you up as your thighs turn to jelly. His rhythm is sloppy now and you can tell he’s close just by the way he’s whining in your ear.

“Just for you,” You cry, as his hand slips down towards your clit, rubbing the nub with just the right pressure, making your head spin. Your sentence seems to spark something in Taehyung because he grips your neck tighter, quickening his pace.

“Fuck, baby you’re driving me crazy,” He grunts as you begin to lose control, your pussy clenching against his length, making the man lose his composure. “God, your pussy feels so good, so fucking wet and tight just for me.”

“L-let me cum, please,” You beg, almost sobbing as your toes curl up in pleasure. “Please, Tae, I c-can’t anymore.”

Taehyung grunts, pulling out all the way before he plunges back in, his following thrusts short and shallow as he struggles to keep a grip on you. He bucks his hip forward, hand grabbing your shoulder as your name comes out in the form of moans. From your spot, you can see his eyebrows tucked together, his face looking absolutely fucked out and god, you’d do anything to see him look like that again. He chases his high desperately, groaning long and hard before he jerks forward, his cock stuttering as his seed spills into you, your walls clenching around him. You whine, cussing as he brings you to your high, his fingers circling your clit, making your vision go white. As he comes down from his high, he thrusts into you, hitting the bundle of nerves inside you, hitting the spot that made you hold your breath. 

“Pl-please, please, please, Taehyung, I need to cum,” You cry, wail almost as you feel the coil in your stomach grow even tighter.

“You want to cum?” He asks, grunting. You nod, whining as he picks up the pace. “Then be a good girl and cum all over my cock, baby.”

You swear you almost black out, your orgasm so intense that you can no longer hold yourself up, your limbs betraying you as you sink into the mattress, pussy pulsing as it clenches uncontrollably. Taehyung pulls out, flipping you over before his lips finds yours between your pants. His kisses are languid and soft, almost as if it’s an apology. His touch is gentle, cradling your cheeks as he kisses you senseless, sucking at your lips so you would part them for him. His free hand moves down to your pussy his fingers slowly gathering his cum that was spilling out just to push it back into you and you squirm under his hold, whimpering. He continues for a while, his fingers brushing over your clit every so often so he could hear you whine, asking him to stop as your pussy throbbed, feeling a tad bit sensitive.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks as he undoes the necktie that holds your hands together. He frowns, hands smoothing over your wrists that have been rubbed raw. The question catches you off guard, his entire demeanour does. You’re pretty sure most guys do not treat their escorts this way.

“It’s fine, Taehyung. I-I liked it,” You mumble, eyes downcast. At that he smiles, grabbing the soft towel from the nearby table along with his blazer with him. He’s mostly quiet as he cleans you up. Of course he kind of sits there mesmerized as he watches his cum leak out of your pussy. Damn, you seriously don’t understand what you do to him.

Taehyung offers you his shirt before he puts on his boxers and you sit there, awkwardly buttoning his shirt because isn’t he supposed to leave now? Isn’t that how these things usually go? The men would come here, have their fun and leave immediately after. Why was he still here, lingering?

He soon returns to the bed, his hand reaching into the pockets of his blazer to pull out something. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he produces two packets, a giant foot printed on each one. You stare it for a little longer before a dawn of realization hits you and you smile, immediately unwrapping the packet when he hands it to you.

“Oh my god, I love these. I almost forgot they existed,” You smile, pulling out the lollipop that was shaped in a foot before carefully dipping it back into the bottom of the packet that held the fizzy powder. “It’s so hard to find them nowadays.”

“Yeah, you can only get them at those really old family owned sundry shops now,” He smiles, unwrapping his own one.

“Seriously, I love this candy so much,” You laugh. “It brings me back to my childhood.”

Taehyung only grins as he makes himself comfortable among the pillows. He beckons you over by patting the spot next to him.

“You know, this sort of feels like it’s meant to console me. Like a hey, you were bad in bed but here, have a lollipop! It’ll make you feel better,” You laugh and Taehyung blushes.

“Th-That’s not what I meant by giving you this lollipop. If anything you’re leagues better than the 3/10 that you think you are.”

“Well, what was your intention then?”

“Nothing really,” He hums. “It’s just that I’m a man of my word is all.”

18 years ago

“It’s not that bad really,” You assure the boy that’s crying in front of you. “It doesn’t hurt one bit,” You smile, wiping the blood away from your lips.

You’re lying. It hurts… a lot and you kind of regret standing up to the bullies but you weren’t just going to sit back and watch those older boys beat up that same little kid again.

“I’m so sorry,” He mumbles, sobbing. “Next time you shouldn’t try to help.”

“I can��t leave you alone like that,” You frown. “They’re just being big meanies. You didn’t even do anything wrong.”

The boy sighs. You’re as stubborn as an ox. How could you not see that this was a losing battle? They were going to bully him forever. He was an easy target, the poor boy with tattered clothes and no money for food. He just came to the playground to escape from the constant fights his parents would have. He just wanted one moment of peace, and if not the playground, he had nowhere else to go. It was better than home anyway. Even if he got beat up here, at least he would get his moment of peace whenever he laid in the sand box alone, sobbing. At least there was no shouting here once the sun begins to set.

“Oh, my mum’s here,” You hum, breaking the boy out of the trance he was in. “Come on!” You smile, grabbing him by the hand, leading him to your mother.

“What the— Y/N, what happened?” Your mother questions, panicked.

“Well, we—,” You point to yourself and then to the boy next to you. “—stood up to the bullies!”

Your mother sighs, crouching down to inspect your split lip. She can only shake her head as you give her a grin, wincing in pain when you smile too wide.

“And you, oh sweetheart,” She mumbles, softly turning to see his face littered with bruises. “Where are your parents?”

“Busy fighting, throwing things at each other,” The boy answers honestly.

Your mother hums, gulping nervously.

“What’s your name?”

“Kim,” He answers easily with his last name that he shares with thousands of people. His father had told him not to give out his full name. Especially since there’s an order out to kidnap a Kim Taehyung. The mafia needed some leverage so that his father would actually pay back his debt.

“O-okay, Kim,” Your mother smiles. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Can I?” He asks, absolutely beaming at the thought of finally being able to eat a hot meal.

“Sure, what would you like to have? Y/N here likes— Where’d she go? Y/N—”

Your mother only grumbles to herself as she watches you run back towards her, two little packets in your hand.

“I told you to stop running off like that,” Your mother frowns.

“But he was going to leave,” You mumble, pointing to the ice-cream man who’s packing up his cart, putting away the assorted candies he sold along with his ice-cream. “Here,” You smile, handing a packet to the boy. He inspects it with furrowed eyebrows, twisting the packet with a large foot printed on it.

Your obsession with the weirdly shaped lollipop honestly drives your mother crazy. It certainly didn’t help that it was not the easiest candy to find.

“It tastes funny,” The boy mumbles, noting that the candy fizzes in his mouth. “And it’s sour,” He murmurs, face scrunching up at the taste. “But I like it.”

“Exactly! It’s the best!” You smile, dipping the lollipop back into the packet to pick up some more powder.

Your mother takes the both of you by the hand, leading you two to a nearby restaurant. She picks the place because she’s had a long day and she really just wants a good plate of fried rice to heal her soul. She notes the Kim boy is rather quiet, but in your presence, he seems to light up. Shame, she sighs. It’s nice that you were getting along so well with this kid, but you and your mother are moving away to another town in just a few days. Moreover, it didn’t quite sit well with her that the boy had said some rather disturbing things about his home life… and the fact that he was being bullied daily at the playground, that hurt her heart too. But, it was hard taking care of you alone. She didn’t really need more to worry about, in fact she couldn’t afford it.

“You sure you’ll be okay walking home?” Your mother asks, as the three of you stand outside the restaurant.

“Yes.”

“We can walk you home if you would just let us know where it is.”

“My parents really don’t like me giving out our address to strangers,” He mumbles, staring at his feet.

“Okay,” Your mother hums. “You be safe, alright?”

Taehyung nods, ready to walk away when you stop him, making him stand there as you tug at your mother’s sleeve, making her crouch down so you could whisper in her ear.

“Please,” You beg, hands clasped together as your mother gives you a pointed look after having heard your request. She sighs before she nods and digs into her purse for her wallet. The grin you have on when she hands you the money is truly precious.

“Here, take this,” You smile, handing the boy the $20 your mother had just given you. “Don’t let those stupid boys hurt you anymore a-and get yourself something nice to eat tomorrow.”

“Y/N,” He says, dumbfounded, staring at the bill in his hand.

“Oh and here,” You grin, putting the lollipop packet in his hand. “I was saving this for later but I think you should have it.”

“Y/N,” He repeats in the same tone, still in shock. He knows he should say something along the lines of no, I can’t take any of this but the truth is… he wanted both of those things in his hands badly.

“I’ll see you around Kim,” You mumble as you wave at him, walking backwards to your mum who’s waiting further ahead.

“I… I promise I’ll get you this when I have money next time!” He shouts, holding up the packet. “I’ll pay you back 100 times the amount,” He says, pointing at the $20.

“You promise?”

“I promise!”

Taehyung is a man of his word, always has been and always will be. It’s why when you go to drop off your monthly installment for the debt your father owes, they inform you that with the amount you had just paid, you had completely cleared the debt. They tell you that they were surprised to receive the money you mailed in last week and the truth is, so are you but you only nod nonchalantly. You make sure to get the proper documentation from them, to confirm that they were absolutely certain that your account has been cleared. You walk out of there with a nice little slip with their insignia and a gang member’s signature that verifies that the debt has been paid in full. You laugh to yourself, absolutely grateful for their miscalculation or rather, mismanagement. You actually had hundreds and thousands left to pay but hey, you’re not going to tell them that. God, you can’t wait to tell Taehyung what dumbasses his rivals are.

*bonus*

check out this ask for extras like how tae knew it was oc and if he ever tells her that he’s the little boy she helped out!

A/N: as always, thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome!!! (: also this was meant to be a drabble… i swear… but u kno meeeee

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode eighteen: Plan B!

Tw: implied self harm

"Kyoya? You have yet to hand in your homework?"

Monday again, Kyoya had a plan that was about to be put into action, but unfortunately he hadn't managed to bring himself to complete the homework expected of him. He looked up from his book, well aware of all the eyes that were on him. The teacher seemed to have assumed it was a mere mistake that Kyoya had forgotten to hand it over, he stared at her with blank eyes, "yes ma'am," he sighed, hanging his head, "I am aware."

People gasped and the entire classroom broke into a cacophony of hushed whispers, even Tamaki leant over and hissed, "Kyoya! Are you feeling alright?"

The teacher looked unsettled, adjusting the cuffs of her shirt. She swallowed and tried to make her tone sound gentle, "alright, is there a reason you have yet to hand your work in?"

"Yes ma'am," Kyoya started, not wanting to finish that statement. People were all looking at him, it was unfathomable that an Ootori would fail at such a simple task, and Kyoya was especially known for being painfully studious. He looked back down at his book, bracing for the outcry, "I simply didn't get around to finishing it, my apologies ma'am."

10:23 - I did not complete my homework, the class have gone mad with shock after hearing.

Go mad they did; the whispers quickly became normal talking, people were phoning their friends and he was sure someone had been recording him. He simply sighed, waiting for the teacher to stop talking about his homework. Said teacher looked extremely unnerved, unsure what to do, "well uh, this is certainly a surprise but I suppose this is the first time this has happened so I'll let you off with a warning, please try and complete it as soon as you can, alright?" Kyoya nodded and the teacher moved on to other things.

The rest of the class seemed intent on staring at Kyoya, whispering about how shocked and disturbed they were. Kyoya shuddered as he realised that this was the kind of tiny change that would send Tamaki into full nonsense mode, he would likely get no reprieve. He had been planning to complete the homework during club hours as well…

So he just sat there in silence, ignoring the very pointed looks he got from Tamaki. Unfortunately he couldn't ignore Tamaki whilst they were walking between classes, "soo…" the accusation started, perfectly innocent, "you didn't do your homework?"

"Does that really matter? What bearing does it have on your day?" He didn't like being short with Tamaki, but he wasn't about to have a discussion about it with him. His heart was hammering in his chest already, he’d never done something like that before and he felt he was about to cry and/or faint.

Tamaki clutched both his hands, nearly knocking poor Kyoya into the wall, “you never forget that kind of thing!! You're always so serious and smart! You’ve never done anything like this before! What's going on??"

"That's none of your business." He pushed Tamaki away, frowning, "please don't assault me like that again, I'm not in the mood to deal with that today." He proceeded to turn on heel and walk down the corridor, towards his class. He felt bad for leaving Tamaki on his own like that, but he felt he had been in the right to get upset, it wasn't any of Tamaki's business to pry into.

Tamaki, obviously told the other hosts, and of course they panicked and did their best to figure out what was 'wrong' with Kyoya. Obviously Kyoya didn't humour them, just sighing and telling them that it's none of their concern, that he doesn't need their intervention. Even Haruhi seemed worried, approaching him towards the end of the very first session.

"Senpai? Are you alright? I know they're being a bit annoying at the moment but it's just because they care," she smiled gently, sitting down at his table. Kyoya resisted the urge to roll his eyes, hating every word that left her damn mouth. They don't care, they just want to poke their noses where it doesn't belong, both of them knew it, Haruhi just liked to pretend to be nice about things like this.

"The key word here being annoying," was his only answer, not even glancing at her for more than half a second, she didn't deserve that much.

A sigh, she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head just a little, "you've been very snappy lately, is there a reason for this?"

Yeah, he's looking at her. Kyoya stopped what he was doing, turning to look at her, "do you just want to know why I didn't do my homework?" He knew that she wanted to know, but he also knew that wasn't why she was asking. He was mainly trying to get her to shut up and leave him alone, he didn't want to talk to her.

It worked, as she stood up, turning to leave, "I'm here if you need someone to talk to, senpai." He actually did roll his eyes at that, hating the way she acted like she was so much better than him.

Woman#2: I can't do my job if you can't take me off the blacklist.

Moron.

Oh right, her. Kyoya sighed and did as he was told, hating what he had to resort to. He hoped it would work.

A week went by and Friday rolled around, Kyoya had nearly forgotten what he'd asked Sieka to do, and was just looking forward to no longer being grounded. He'd ended up stealing the twins' spare fabric shears, and had made sure to clean them before he returned them to their place in the storeroom the day before. This morning he was sure to do his makeup fully, no more lacking as he had done the past week.

When he saw the note on Tamaki's desk, he remembered what Sieka was to do. Her job was simple; talk to Tamaki every day, get fully on his good side, then send him an anonymous love letter, requesting that he meet her in a quiet corner of the school, making sure the letter only gives enough information to stand out from the others, Kyoya would encourage him to go see, so she didn't need to work so hard to do that, but Haruhi would walk by, just when that happens, Sieka would ensure something scandalous to enrage her- Kyoya had told her to make it up as she goes along.

"Usually they put love notes in the mailbox…"

"Maybe she wanted to make sure you read it," Kyoya offered, "you know who wrote it?"

Tamaki shook his head, rereading the letter, "no clue, why would someone write me a love note if they know I've got a girlfriend."

Ugh, that sentiment made Kyoya feel nauseous, a girlfriend, ew. "Strange isn't it?" He had to agree, to make Tamaki happy, "maybe you should go, just to ask her?" Tamaki looked at him in confusion, so Kyoya continued, "well obviously she knows, so there has to be a reason she sent the letter regardless, I think you should go, so you can find out."

"I am curious…" Tamaki pondered on the idea, "you think Haruhi will get mad if I go see?"

"Just don't tell her," he shrugs, frowning, "if she gets mad over something so small, she doesn't deserve you." He offered a smile when Tamaki looked concerned, "it's not like you're accepting the confession, just asking."

The king nodded, smiling a little, "you're right, you're always right. Ok, I'll go see."

Kyoya chuckled, feeling a rush of good feelings as Tamaki praised him, "oh you don't want to say that Tamaki, what if you give me an ego?" He smirked as the blonde laughed, feeling like it was almost back to normal for just a second.

"You've already got one! I couldn't give you a bigger one if I tried!"

"I mean, you've definitely got the superior ego," Kyoya shrugged, knowing full well that neither of them had very high self esteem in truth, they just liked to act like they were egotists.

"Ha!" A slap on the back and Kyoya winced, Tamaki was always one to play rough, "at least I'm not the evil one!" Kyoya smiled fondly at that, remembering the first time Tamaki had called him evil.

"Oh, you have no idea…" well he was evil now wasn't he? It was no longer still aesthetics, and it was the aesthetics that Tamaki was fond of.

The first club session was good, quite quiet actually, the other hosts were pleased to hear that today was the last day of kyoya being grounded, having gotten grounded last friday, so naturally they made plans to hang out over the weekends. "Oh! How about a sleepover on Saturday!"

"We can use my place this time!" Tamaki grinned, "I've made sure to get extra blankets and futons since last sleepover!"

"Oh about that," Kyoya spoke up quietly, "would it be possible to achieve another 'boys night', as you put it?"

"Yeah!" Hikaru nodded, a grin on his face as Kaoru agreed, the two nodding in unison.

"We could do that on Sunday, right boss?"

Tamaki nodded, snapping his fingers, "of course we can! Anything for my best friend!" He paused, glancing down at Haruhi, "oh, you don't mind not joining us on Sunday as well, do you Haruhi?"

She just deadpanned up at him, "believe me, I'm totally fine with just one extra day with you guys."

Then came lunch, and Tamaki made his way down to the specified location. Kyoya made sure to follow him part of the way, finding a place to sit where he was at least within earshot, but he made sure to stay out of view, he didn't want to ruin his own plans. He opened his phone to text the twins, he almost felt bad using them as tools to erase suspicion like this, but it had to be done.

Demon-lord: We're out of commoners coffee, could you get some?

The annoying one: We'll tell Haruhi to do it,

Kaoru: she knows where to get it.

He knew they'd do that, they always make Haruhi do that. Those boys were such fools, always doing the playing and never realising when they were being used. Although, other than their cruel nature, Kyoya was quite fond of them, they were the second hosts that he considered friends. He had forgotten how cruel they could be, he had almost forgotten to see their nicknames and terms for him as their way of expressing friendship, but it wasn't, was it? It was just their cruel nature leaking through, corrupting everything around them.

Either way, Sieka was here now, Kyoya could hear her speaking. "You came! You know, I really didn't think you would," she giggled, it wasn't her natural laugh, it was the one she put on to appear innocent.

"Princess Ayanokoji? It was you?" Tamaki seemed surprised, of course he was, but Kyoya could hear the little layer of spite in Tamaki's voice, oh it almost made him shiver. Tamaki knew how badly Seika hated Haruhi, and although it was inconvenient, hearing Tamaki so bitter was… interesting.

"Yes," Sieka seemed to ignore his tone, she was likely making her attempt to corner him now, "I hope you enjoyed the letter I wrote, I worked very hard on it."

"But you know I'm with Haruhi, you knew…"

"You aren't very close, for a couple, are you? She doesn't even love you, and she boasts about that to your best friend. That has to hurt, are you alright, Tamaki?"

Ooh, cutting where it hurts, Kyoya hadn't expected that but it would definitely help. The shock in Tamaki's voice as he spoke proved that, "but… she…"

Footsteps, Kyoya caught a glimpse of Haruhi passing the room he was hiding in, there she goes. Kyoya almost felt scared, he was hurting her, he was hurting them both. He glanced down at his hands, lipstick smudged on his right thumb, ink on his left forefinger and thumb, a small, half-healed cut on his right hand from when he slipped with the twin's fabric shears. What had happened to him? What was he doing?

But it was too late to stop it now, this should be the straw that breaks the camel's back. Kyoya was doing this, Kyoya was tearing his friends apart… Kyoya was tearing them apart with a smile...

Wow, you're beginning to look really evil…

...guess you're finally showing your true colours.

Wasn't that what Tamaki had said? Looking into Kyoya's eyes after such a weak moment, all he saw was evil? Tamaki had always called Kyoya his best friend, always praised Kyoya's mental fortitude and pointed out any little kindness Kyoya proved he had. Even after all that positive reinforcement, was Kyoya still the same villain Tamaki had laughed at, the same boy who had been pushed to the edge by just a few words from the blonde? Kyoya felt like crying at that revelation, had Tamaki really not had any effect on him? After all this?

He could hear yelling, Haruhi was yelling at Seika, she must be really mad to blow up at her like that… she yelled at Tamaki to go back to the club room. Kyoya should probably make his way back there too, he'd told Tamaki he'd wait there for him. Luckily, Kyoya knew a few shortcuts, so he got there just before Tamaki, waiting outside because he knew the others would be there by now, ready to set up for the next session.

[glitzygirl26]

Truth -Chapter 1-

Summary:          

Blossom finally manages to spit out the word "Truce" at her counterpart ;D

                  "Giving up already?" Brick taunted.

Blossom angrily wiped her mouth with back of her hand as she glared back p at her counterpart from the ground. How he managed to look so superior like the whole world was beneath him while sporting such bruises was beyond her.

"Arrogant...jerk," Blossom spit out in a hiss.

"D'awww, Pinky, is that the best you've got?" The Ruff cooed with a sneer, "It touches my heart."

"That would involve you actually having one, moron," Blossom spat, regaining enough energy to float back up at eye-level with the infuriating rowdyruff boy.

"Well aren't we just being so nice," Brick sneered.

"Tch, yeah. TOO BAD IT'S ALL ABOUT TO END!" Blossom snarled.

"You gonna finish me, Pinky? With what?" Brick challenged, snarling back, "You're out of energy!"

"And like you aren't!" Blossom countered, preparing an energy blast that grew brighter the angrier she became.

Brick prepared his own energy orbs that glowed dangerously around his blazing hands.

"You're no match for me!" Brick snarled, raising his fists.

"Yet who wins these fights regardless?" Blossom cried as she grit her teeth, holding out her arms int. preparation for the blow.

BOOM.

Two blasts of colored light.

One big shockwave, and two figures blown back from the force.

"AGH!" Blossom cried as she fell back.

"Ungh. OOF!" Brick grunted as he crashed down.

A cloud of black smoke fizzed out where their blasts met and created a crater in between them.

"My heaaddd," Blossom groaned softly.

"Wimp," Brick muttered after catching her with his super hearing, but almost immediately after he felt like hurling and slammed his hand over his mouth, "Hrgh-!"

Blossom sat up groggily, narrowing her eyes at Brick, analyzing him, before looking like she'd bitten through a sour lemon.

Brick saw her shudder, then reluctantly sigh, as if her mind was screaming at her body not to do whatever she was planning on.

"Truce," she finally grunted.

That single word sent Brick's mind reeling. Did she just-

The way she looked at him all of a sudden made him realize he probably looked akin to a gaping fish but his conscience was in a world far away at the moment to think too deep on it.

Did his counterpart...THE Blossom Utonium...just say...truce...?

"Ex- Excuse me?" he stuttered.

"I call a truce," Blossom bit out more aggressively, "Or do you not know what that means? Because I'm sorry Brick, I really did forget. You're not at that stage yet to be able to comprehend such big words. My mistake."

Brick glowered.

Blossom sneered.

…That... was an odd look on her. It did not suit her per se.

"Why would you call a truce?" Brick asked carefully in an even one, ignoring her snide comment about his intellectuality.

"Because these fights are pointless!" Blossom yelled, before pausing to look at him, "Or do you not see that either?"

"Pinky, you're walking on dangerous territory," Brick hissed.

Blossom rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Your self-patience is pathetic anyways," she muttered and Brick growled.

"Look," Blossom bit out aggravatedly, "We've got better things to do with our time. Well, I'm not sure about you but I certainly have things to be doing rather than fight aimlessly every day. Neither of us even wins these things. We're older now. We're also more matched eventhoughIhateit but life hates me even more sometimes or else why would I always get stuck somehow in the end with you of all people? ANYWAYS, If you leave me be, I'll leave you. Hence, truce."

"I never come at you, Miss. Smarty Pants," Brick snorted, "You're the one who always swoops in like some stuck-up bitch with her head too into the clouds just to start your lectures on us."

Blossom rolled her eyes.

"One thing you should have already gotten into that thick skull of your by now, Ruff," -Brick bristled- "Is that messing with my city is the same as messing with me."

"Yeah, I don't see no name under the Townsville welcome sign or whatever, so," Brick countered, raising his eyebrow, only to get suddenly yanked forward by his counterpart who'd grabbed a fistful of his shirt with surprising strength.

"Listen you utter idiot. All I simply ask is whether or not you agree to a little truce. I DO NOT HAVE ALL DAY! You have wasted enough of time and I no longer appreciate you killing more than what is necessary. You either agree...or disagree. But believe me, Ruff. If you choose not go for that truce, it's absolutely fine with me. I could continue beating you to a pulp. All. Day," Blossom hissed in a silky whisper.

Ok, Brick had to give credit where credit was due.

His counterpart may have been everything nice in the concoction but fuck if she could get scary.

That silky hiss, man... It made him want to shudder.

BUT. Ignoring his better conscience and just having to regain an ounce of his pride (because that had been a major blow to his ego –and the bitch knew it) he pushed her final buttons.

"Really now?" Brick drawled, "Doubt it, Bab- YIKES, WOMAN! THAT WASN'T AN INVITATION!"

At an almost dizzying speed, the Puff had grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back painfully. Her eyes blazed a terrifying pink.

"All. Day," she repeated in a hiss next to his ear.

Brick suppressed his gulp.

Was there some specific reason she was being especially scary right now? Was it her monthly shit or whatever or something? Not that he'd ever dare ask her that one, though. That'd probably piss her off even more, and while he was usually all up for getting his goody-two-shoes counterpart as angry as possible... he'd angered her enough today.

He was a Rowdyruff Boy!

...But apparently, Powerpuff sissies also had a terrifying streak within their DNA.

He'd heard enough stories from the dummy about the blonde, thank you very much. The least he could hope was that his own counterpart didn't have her own secret hardcore ability or something.

...Hardcore puffs... did not make a nice image.

And CRIPES, Pinky was twisting that arm really hard now. He had use of that arm, thank you! He would actually prefer keeping it contrary to apparent beliefs, LEGGO WOMAN!

"Truce...Ruff?" Blossom hissed darkly.

Brick rolled his eyes for his rep and kept it nonchalant despite his inner fear. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he muttered as she (FINALLY!) let go of his arm, "If it means I won't have to deal with your smart-assery on a daily basis, we're good."

Blossom's nostrils flared as she tried to keep her anger in check. "I see," she bit out through grit teeth.

Brick smirked.

"Well, farewell, then. Here's to not having to beat your ass a thousand times and more everyday anymore," the Puff muttered, turning around and making sure to whip her moronic counterpart in the face with her ponytail.

The smirk dropped from his stupid face and now it was her turn to sneer.

"Excuse me?!" Brick sputtered in anger.

Blossom floated up into the air.

"To be honest, it was getting kind of boring anyways. You always lost," she finished smugly, before giving the boy one last slap with her long hair and shooting off in a streak of pink.

Brick grit his teeth and growled, spitting out an imaginary strand of hair where his counterpart had whipped him across the face.

 TWICE.

"Whatever," he growled angrily as he took off in the opposite direction.

That goddamned Powerpuff had quite the nerve.

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter Three: It’s Complicated

Forever? Masterlist

1st February 2016 Ashley loved celebrating birthdays, she especially loved celebrating Harry’s birthday. On the morning of the first day of February she pulled herself out of bed and found her phone to send Harry a video of herself dancing to Stevie Wonder’s rendition of happy birthday. It was easier to do when she still lived with her mum because their house was considerably bigger than her new flat in London. Being from the North of England Ashley was naive when she started house hunting, but eventually she managed to find a small flat in South London that had decent enough tube connections to allow her to get to work each day. She had also managed to make it her own, making the most of the available space, each room was incredibly small, but that was how things worked in London. She was set to be at work all day and then she’d have to face the inevitable joy that was rush hour as she traveled into North London for Harry’s birthday meal. 

Following breakfast she rummaged through her wardrobe looking for something she could wear to work, but would also be appropriate for Harry’s meal. She was still yet to tell Harry about the baby and her choice to keep it, so she thought tight fitting clothes were out of the question. Eventually she settled on a grey chunky roll neck jumper which she paired with black jeans and her trusty leather jacket. Her hair was a mess as always, she didn’t even attempt to curl or straighten it, so decided to opt for a simple but effective top knot.

“Morning sunshine!” Ashley called as she sat at her desk, across from her new found friend Toby, he was one of those effortlessly fashionable people who looked painfully good in literally anything. The two of them were doing the same paid internship and shared a mutual appreciation for Colin Firth; they spent every lunchtime together, Ashley swiping through Toby’s tinder matches to find him a suitable match, whilst Toby continued to talk about his failed dates, this week's disaster was Roberto.

“How are you so awake when it is so early?” Toby sighed, spinning on his office chair.

“It’s called getting nine hours of sleep you melon.” 

“I love it when you get all sarcastic, makes me realise I’m not actually as cynical as I thought.” Toby told her as she tapped away on her computer.

Whilst on their daily lunch break Ashley and Toby stopped off at Starbucks, “What can I get you love?” the barista asked her.

“Just a cheese and marmite panini and tea please.” Ashley replied as she handed over her cash.

“Cheese and marmite? Are you trying to insult me?” Toby asked in disgust before ordering his salad and cappuccino.

“You aren’t allowed to be rude to me, I’m pregnant remember, besides it's one of my odd cravings, along with chicken nuggets dunked in peanut butter.” She told Toby sarcastically, the only people who knew about the baby were her mum, Gemma and Toby, she hadn’t intended to tell anyone at work until further down the line, but using dry january as an excuse not to go on a work night out didn’t seem like a feasible excuse, so she felt it necessary to tell him the truth. She was still yet to find the right moment to tell Harry, or Anne for that matter, she didn’t want to have to tell her best friend that her first child was born out of a loveless night of lust, well in fact there wasn’t even any lust on Ashley’s behalf.

“What ya thinkin bout pet?” Toby asked her as they took their usual seat in the window.

“All sorts, whether I should buy a crib or wait a few months, whether or not I should tell my best friend I got pregnant after a drunken mistake.” Ashley explained, biting her nails the way she always had when she was anxious.

“Whoever this elusive friend of yours is, I’m sure he’ll still care about you the same way whether or not you’re pregnant, so stop being so hard on yourself, besides babies don’t stay that small forever, in a few months time your belly is going to be the size of a beach ball.” Ashley hadn’t told anyone at work her best friend was in fact Harry, she didn’t want people to think she got a free pass just because she was best friends with pop sensation Harry Styles.

As soon as she entered Leicester Square Station Ashley regretted her choice to get the tube, it was packed, even though on the streets of London there was still a cold chill in the air, somehow the underground remained its warm and sweat inducing self. She held onto her bump with one hand, while the other had hold of the pole, not wanting to face palm on a tube full of people. Since moving to London Ashley was often successful at wrangling a seat, seeing as it was pretty obvious she was pregnant, it had taken her a while to adapt to the bluntness of most Londoners, growing up in Holmes Chapel, life moved at a much slower pace, people stopped for a chat and it wouldn’t in anyway impact the progress of their day, but here everyone was in a rush, living in their own little bubble.

Harry’s restaurant of choice was fancy, very fancy, when Ashley arrived they took her coat from her and led her to the table where Harry, Anne and Gemma were sat with several other people she didn’t recognise, so assumed they were colleagues and famous friends of Harry’s. “Happy birthday Haz!” Ashley cried as she hugged her best friend.

“Thank you petal.” he whispered into her hair, swaying her from side to side, he was dressed in yet another Styles signature look, a loose white shirt which was only buttoned half way, so his bird tattoos were peeping out, paired with black skinny jeans and chelsea boots

“This is for you,” she handed him the gift bag, Ashley never knew what to get Harry, if he wanted something, frankly he was in the position where he could afford it himself, there was no need for Ashley to buy him anything fancy, so instead she decided on a leather bound notebook with room for all his scribbles and ideas. “Twenty two eh? Pretty sure someone’s written a song about that.” She smirked, shooting Harry a knowing glance as she took a seat opposite him, beside Gemma. 

“You alright?” Gemma mouthed, to which Ashley nodded, being the generally caring and compassionate person she was, Gemma had accompanied her to the twelve week scan, and offered her services as a general source of comfort, because in Ashley’s eyes she was the next best thing to Harry.

The food was posh, and Ashley had always lacked a refined palette, the poshest food she’d ever had was when her dad took her for tea and cake at the Ritz, so she opted for what she felt most comfortable with, steak. Conversation was buzzing amongst the table, Harry had lots of questions for Ashley, he hadn’t seen her since Christmas and wanted to know all about her first month working at Capital. “Some champagne for you sir.” The waiter placed the bottle on the table in front of Harry and a champagne flute in front of each guest. 

Harry stood up, clearing his throat, “I’d like to say thank you all for coming tonight, it means a lot to have all my favourite people in one room, so cheers!” Harry told the group before popping the cork, he made his way around the table to pour everyone a glass, eventually getting to Ashley, “

I don’t want any thanks H.” She told him softly.

“Oh come on Ashley, it’s the first day of February, dry January is over so you’ve got to have a drink.” he insisted.

“I’m fine H, I don’t want one.” She replied.

“Just one, a little one.” He pushed.

“Harry leave it.” Gemma told him sternly.

“Why are you getting all defensive all of a sudden Gem?” He asked, placing the bottle on the table.

“If she doesn’t want a drink I just don’t think you should pester her about it.”

“Harry I wasn’t doing dry January, the real reason I haven’t been drinking is-” Ashley muttered.

“You don’t have to do this, not now, not if you aren’t ready.” Gemma assured her.

“What’s going on? Why are you two being secretive?” Harry questioned, the several glasses of wine he had consumed, clearly taking effect, on his normally rational state.

“I’m pregnant.” The silence was almost deafening, the light conversations around the table had stopped, Ashley and Harry looked at eachother like there was no one else in the room, she hadn’t wanted to tell him like this, she was going to tell him when she was ready. Harry sat back in his seat, twiddling his thumbs, “I think I best leave you all to it, thank you for having me,” Ashley whispered before standing from her chair, she left some money towards the meal on the table, took her bag from the chair and left the restaurant, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gemma glared at her brother as Ashley darted out of the restaurant, “Well done Harry, you handled that with real compassion.”

“What did you want me to do? My best friend just told me she’s pregnant.” Harry replied.

“For Christ sake Harry! She’s the one who is going through all of this, and yet all you can think about is your bruised ego.” Gemma told him bluntly, the raised voices drawing unwanted attention from other customers in the restaurant.

“You two need to calm down.” Anne soothed, placing her hand on Harry’s arm, “I’m sure she had a valid reason not to tell you love.”

“Harry, be the friend she needs you to be, go after her and apologise.” Gemma instructed him.

London was dark, as you would expect, it was early February after all, Ashley made her way towards Highgate tube station, the winter frost biting at her skin as she walked. She entered the station, rummaging through her pockets for her oyster card, “Ash! Wait.” She turned to see her best friend, panting heavily as though he’d run a 100 metre sprint, the station wasn’t busy but he had drawn some unwanted attention to himself. “I’m a dick.” he sighed as he walked closer to her.

“Little shit actually.” she replied, a small grin appearing briefly on her lips.

“What I mean is, whatever happens, whatever you have to deal with over the next few months, I’ll have your back, forever.” He assured her, holding onto her elbows, so as to steady her.

“The reason I didn’t tell you was because I thought you’d think I was a failure, for fuck sake I’m nearly twenty and I’m three months pregnant and the father is a twat who currently resides in Malia and probably beds a new girl every night.” 

“I don’t think you’re a failure, out of everyone I know you’ve got your shit together, you knew you were pregnant when you came to London, but you still did it, the idea of being here alone didn’t phase you and I admire you for that.” Harry told her, “You’ll be a great mum, and I’ll be an even better uncle.” Harry chuckled.

“I’ve got another present for you if you want it? I think you’ll like it more than what I actually got you.” Ashley rummaged in a bag, pulling out her twelve week scan, “That’s your niece or nephew in there.”

Harry grinned eagerly, his dimples becoming more prominent than usual, “Can I keep it?” he asked her, unable to stop smiling.

“Of course you can.” 

“Thank you, I’m sorry I’m such a little shit.” He wrapped his arms around her tightly, kissing the top of her head, “I’m going to look out for you two forever.”

[five-wow]

i watched 10.17 a few days ago and this has been lingering in my drafts since then because i forgot to post it! as always, rambles about the episode behind the cut.

i’m for once really glad for the “previously on” recap, because it showed us the yakuza big bird telling adam that adam is going to be his eyes and ears in five-0 and the bit where steve welcomes adam back home, which i had both forgotten about, and which make the last two episodes make slightly more sense adam-wise

oh BOY. tani and junior are incredibly cute and then suddenly, bam, car sex. i’m really happy for them!!! but i’m also really scared that with how quickly this is happening suddenly, it’s a prelude to something bad happening that they don’t know about yet, ahhhh. they don’t deserve that! they deserve their happy post-coital snuggling, even if it’s in a car.

fjdkfd steve and danny at a literary festival, bickering (obviously), is not something i knew i wanted. also. tom clancy. dear lord, steve, if you want to sound like a guy who likes reading, you might want to dig a little deeper than the number one most obvious choice. :p

oh gOD harry is here!! maybe i should have known that but i DID NOT.

harry: “it seems, uh. it seems i’ve written a best-selling book.” as a person who pretends to know things about writing and has never published anything but definitely done a lot of research on the subject, i am both intrigued and made very wary by the implication that harry accidentally wrote a best-seller. go on.

fjdkfdjkfdjfkd it’s EXACTLY the story i was expecting him to tell, which is that he randomly sat down one day, had a manuscript within a few weeks, sent it to a friend and was immediately offered a seven figure book deal. i both hate and love this, because this is in no way how anything at all works, but it’s also very... harry langford, by which i mean basically james bond, by which i mean definitely a male mary sure, which to be clear in this case i don’t mind, but does amuse me greatly.

oh my gosh, the dramatics with harry suddenly talking nonsense at no one and then it turns out he has an earpiece in to talk to his “literary alter ego”, i just. oh my god. this is all so stupid and i love it.

fjdkfjdkfjdk steve’s little cyrano namedrop with a meaningfully faux-whispered “de bergerac” in danny’s direction is killing me dead, haha. well done, steve! you know at least one (1) literary reference that is not tom clancy. i’m sure danny will be deeply impressed.

right, so deirdre naysmith was a fictional crime writer and maureen townsend was the real life writer behind her. the agatha christie vibes are strong with this one.

we’re switching kind of abruptly from steve on the phone with lou about the case, to steve at hq in his office with adam, talking about tanaka and how they haven’t caught him yet, and then he tells adam that he knows adam did what he did for good reasons and adam’s FACE. he does not look entirely convinced of his own good reasons, pff.

adam: [turns to leave] steve: “hey. i trust you, okay?” oh dear lord, this hurts.

danny: “it’s like a vintage murder art project, or something.” what a lovely description!

junior and tani walk in!!! and there are huge smiles all around and it’s super cute and then the FIRST THING danny says to junior is “i have a confession to make. i’ve been uh, sleeping in your bed” and LOOK, no offense, dear h50 writers, because you were very close there, but you made danny say that to the wrong seal. totally understandable mistake, just make sure to keep an eye on it next time.

they have to go back to the literary fair for their case so steve throws up a hand and goes “just came from there” and danny says “well you love books, so we’ll go back” and that’s some good throwback banter on its own, but what really makes it for me is that in the brief reaction shot of steve we get to also see junior crack a huge grin. sometimes a family is two bickering dads involved in the slowest friends to lovers slow burn in human history and their navy seal son (and a whole bunch of other people) and that’s not only okay, it’s pretty damn great.

harry’s double gets abducted, because of course he does, but he didn’t deserve that! he’s just an idiot who stumbled into a really nice, really dangerous job.

harry tells junior (who is at the wheel as they’re chasing down harry’s double) to “drive it like you stole it, my friend”, which i get, but also makes me think junior should slow down and stick to traffic laws, because if he had actually stolen the car he wouldn’t want to attract the attention of the police by speeding and causing near-collosions.

harry is guiding his double through transferring harry’s money, like the kidnappers asked, and we’re casually told he has a total balance of ten million hidden cleverly behind the password “LAN9F0RD” and all of it is objectively hilarious, fjdkf.

adam is now climbing a tree in the middle of the forest to do something with a camera, and i really wish this means his subplot gets switched to “adam has developed an interest in birdwatching since the divorce and is hoping he caught this rare species of [insert type of bird] on tape!” instead of more crime stuff.

harry transfers the money for the kidnappers and there’s probably some ruse or trick involved (either that, or it turns out he actually owns like, another ninety million), but also... would any reputable bank just let you remotely transfer ten million while only requesting a username and a password? i feel like my bank asks for better identification if i just want to view my own balance.

fdjkfd harry employed an ex in the caymans to get the money back from the kidnappers’ guy there, and she tells him she’s keeping it now because he never called her back. beautiful, A+, i love this. i hope she lives her best life with this new fortune.

so. harry’s double has been rescued and is in harry’s expensive hotel suite going “thanks for letting me use the bathroom” (shower, it’s implied he used the shower) while there is some piano music in the background that could be taken as vaguely romantic and they kind of swagger each others’ way and harry says something about the finer things in life while sort of toasting his double’s face with his drink and i’m not saying harry definitely slept with this guy, but, you know. i’m not not saying it.

there are fireworks! and i’m not sure why (what american holiday am i missing? are fireworks a set part of every literary festival?) but steve and danny and harry and tani and junior are on a balcony and looking at it and it’s very pretty, and tani and junior hold PINKIES, which is almost painfully cute, dammit.

ah, adam’s mystery tape shows two executions instead of pretty birds, which is a bummer. hate when that happens.

this was such a good episode though!! again!!! seeing harry again was a lot of fun, the main plot was ridiculous but also super fun, and tani and junior got to actually be happy for a little bit without immediately being thrown into turmoil for whatever reason, and that’s also wonderful. and oh my god, i enjoyed all of the side characters so much - harry, harry’s stand-in, the woman who was obsessed with a mystery writer from the past and ended up being the murderer. they were all such characters and just really delightful to watch, honestly, which is awesome because it means it wasn’t just the main cast that i’m here for. (adam, though. oh, adam. what are the writers doing to you? i minded his subplot less this episode, but mostly because it got less screentime.)

[lostinwritingmayhem]

Friendly Voice At The Back Of Your Head

aka a Darkiplier/Host friendship one shot no one asked for

[1179 words, tw: mind control???? the one where Dark is an overworking fool and The Host ain’t having none of it, inspired by an old conversation with @egossideblog]

Wandering down the hallway leading to Dark's room, Host thought about the last time he met him outside. Which was... over a week ago, he realized. And, sure, he himself wasn't the most social creature, but this didn't seem like the case of their schedules being different, but one of the 'Dark gets lost in plotting Mark's demise and forgets everything else' situations. It happened often, but not many of them knew exactly what that entails. Host did. Reaching his destination, he let his mind expand, getting the feel for the man in the other room, and sighed. He was right. Decision made, he opened the door, well aware this was going to make Dark very, very angry later - but he would deal with it, just like he did many times before in the years they were acquainted with each other. Not giving Dark the chance to protest, Host laced his words with his power and spoke.

"Darkiplier puts down his pen..."

***

When it came to the Host and his... narrations, Dark had to admit - to himself, no one else - that even he was helpless. That was the main reason why he put the effort into becoming friends with the Host in the first place - it meant the blind ego was that much more reluctant to take control of him. It worked, most of the time. Well, besides the first few times at the beginning, when they hadn’t known each other too well and Dark had tried to force him into obedience. The Host hadn’t taken too kindly to that, lashing out and making his life painfully inconvenient for a couple of days.

After that, though, they had reached a tentative truce - Dark being smarter than to knowingly make a powerful enemy, and the Host clearly not interested in fighting anyone.

So yes, most of the time it worked and they didn’t step on each other toes...Except, of course, the rare times when the Host seemed to come to the conclusion that Dark 'needs a break'.

Dark growled, realizing it's what's happening as he felt a sudden urge to put down his pen on the table, and recognized the voice coming from the door.

"Host, don't-"

***

"...he protests, but knows that it's futile. Darkiplier sits back and relaxes, the tension slowly draining from his body. He watches the Host with an angry expression, even though there is no reason for that anger."

Host's powers allowed him to sense what the person being controlled thinks and feels and wants - and then to ignore it completely if only he so chose. He had learned, however, that with Dark it is easier to...cooperate, for the sake of their companionship (and for the sake of peace in the Headquaters, because Dark tended to throw what WIlford always described as tantrums when inconvienced, and this? This was a huge inconvenience in his book.)

That's why the Host always paid extra attention to make sure that Dark isn't...too frustrated. The whole point of this was to help him relax, after all.

"The Host's voice washes over Darliplier, who is calming down more and more with every word that reaches his ears. He can feel..."

***

"...the pain leaving his body and lets out a sigh at the pleasant sensation."

Oh, how much he hated the Host in situations like this. Because he felt good now. It was not the most pleasant thing, Dark discovered, to live with a broken neck and spine that never stopped hurting. His powers let him put on a mask, an illusion of control, but they didn't dull the pain in the slightest. It was a stupid limitation, the one he learned how to live with. He adjusted.

Until, of course, the Host, the only one who knew about Dark's issues and only because he took control over him these few times, got fed up with his inability to take a break and took the pain away for the first time.

Dark felt his body sink deeper into the chair, blissfully painless. This current plan he was working on required a lot of preparations so, yes, maybe he didn't leave his desk for too many hours to count. This didn't give Host the right to do it. Dark's eyes were shooting daggers into The Host's vital organs. He scoffed, as the even voice of the other man declared that-

"Dark scoffs, not fond of the Host nor the situation at the moment. The Host is aware of that, but as always, chooses to ignore it, since his friend proved that he is not to be trusted with his own good at that moment. Darkiplier gets up..."

***

"...and makes his way to the bed, where he will sleep, without interruptions, for the next twelve hours."

The Host waited as Dark sat on the bed, knowing that the unpleasant part of the whole situation is about to come. It was necessary, however, to give Dark an outlet for his frustration, for everyone's sake. Being under Host's control made Dark feel extremely vulnerable, he could feel it, so Dark lashed out, every time, trying to regain his power. It stopped bothering him a long time ago.

"Darkiplier will fall asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow. Before that can happen, however, he has few minutes to yell at the Host. Not that it will change anything. Dark will get his painless rest later."

And with that, the Host let his voice lose the reality-shaping powers. What was done was done, and there was no changing that. Dark, of course, didn't disappoint.

"I could banish you from here, Host. How long do you think you'd be able to survive out there? How long until someone less nice and patient than me realized how useful you can be? How long until you make a mistake, miss something, and get captured?"

The Host listened, knowing well that these threats were as empty as his own eye sockets. It was much more pragmatic to keep him close and willing to cooperate than to risk an outsider becoming a possible threat.

“The Host wishes Darkiplier a peaceful rest and awaits talking to him in the morning. He would also like to ask Dark, yet again, to pay more attention to his well-being and not force the Host to do it again, since it’s not pleasant to either of them.”

***

Dark narrowed his eyes, his aura lashing out around him in a way that would make any other ego flee in terror. Or, try to. Most of them would never get the chance.

“I could tear out your tongue, Host. I could sew your mouth shut. I could knock your teeth out one. By. One. You would never say another word.”

“Darkiplier could try.”

Host's voice was quiet but sure. He could feel his skin crawl under Dark's gaze so he turned around and left the room, the soft thud of the door closing and the sound of a knife embedding itself in the door frame following him.

There was nothing more to be said.