#i find I can do it with drawing but even then there are times where I stray away and do something else

[issysh3ll]

Noises ♡ Chris Sturniolo

Summary: Chris knows how much you love his nosies Warnings: SMUT, masturbation, recording, moaning

Chris's phone slips in his left hand. His nervous, sweaty palm is making everything more difficult. Readjusting his grip on the device his thumb awkwardly fumbles with the buttons on his screen.

Ordinarily he would use his right hand when scrolling on his phone but that's not possible right now. His right hand is pre-occupied, gripping around something else. When his thumb finally finds the record button he angles the phone towards himself, the speaker of his phone pointing towards his face.

Wet sounds fill the room from where his right hand is moving steadily over his aching cock. The second this idea had crossed his mind, he had found himself hard and straining against his pants. Now he lies naked in bed with one hand wrapped around his cock and the other recording the sweet noises of his reactions as he begins to pump himself. His strokes are slow, controlled, trying to replicate the perfect rhythm you had given him the last time he saw you.

As his stroke rises along the length of his cock, he stops just below the tip and flicks his thumb up to brush over the sensitive area. A soft moan breaks through his lips, causing a spike on the audio recording in his other hand. Quickly, he moves the phone closer to his face.

"mm—ah" another whine breaks free as he repeats his action. His thumb moving over his tip and swirling through the pre-cum leaking over the pink skin.

As his grip moves down his length again, a heavy breath escapes. A desperate, heavy breath, coated with lust.

"aahh, mhmm"

The microphone in his hand continues to catch more heavy breathing as his right hand moves over his cock. The panting is broken by the occasional groan as he draws too close to his tip. But he's trying his best to hold back.

"Ah— yeah, j-just like that..."

He knows how much you love his noises. Each time your hand is wrapped around his cock your voice is always cooing to him, encouraging him to let out those pretty little noises that make you want to do this for him. He loves it.

So as he records himself, he wants give you as much of this as he can. As many of his sweet noises as he can manage in this special recording. And that's what he tells the recording.

"mmpfh— wan' make my noises for you..."

As the slow strokes on his length continue, he grows more desperate, struggling to maintain the teasingly slow pace he's set for himself. Each breath he releases is punctuated by an eager whimper, begging for more.

"Ah— sh-shit."

His tip is aching for contact as his hand continues to ignore it, stroking only along the length. Chris's eyes screw shut, willing himself to maintain control. But his hips lift off the mattress, thrusting to meet his hand as the desperation grows too much.

"Oh, fuck. I can't..." He pants through broken moans. He can't control himself. It's too good.

The pleasure shooting through his body is overwhelming. The grip around his phone tightens, hand shaking slightly as he loses himself in the feeling.

"Oh my g— ffuuckkk" The curse rips through his open mouth as his hand brushes over his tip. The aching nerves so desperate for attention cause a jolt of pleasure to tear through him almost painfully and a loud groan leaves his lips.

"ngh— aahh"

Tears well up in his eyes as the overwhelming pleasure grows even more. A knot forming in his lower abdomen pulls tight, threatening to snap and he gasps, quickly stuttering out a warning.

"sh-shit. Gonna cum, ohh"

With one final flick of his thumb over his aching tip, a stream of hot cum erupts from his cock. Spraying over his chest in spurts as he whines helplessly with each pump.

"Oh... ahh.. fuck... s'good"

After a few seconds to catch his breath, he fumbles with the screen of his phone and clicks end on the recording. Quickly sending it to you before collapsing back to the bed, exhausted.

Masterlist

[vampiefemme]

On my hands and knees begging for a fic where vi mocks the readers moans and the reader is super into it

bitch you’re fucking sick in the head. i love it. some kindaaaa spicy, borderline bdsm stuff below so read forth with caution! there’s aftercare tho. and 18+ as always.

vi’s trying to commit this version of you to memory: dazed and fucked out, tears streaking down your cheeks, your hands tensed around fistfuls of the bedsheets. your cunt is spread wide and puffy for her, so slick it damn near glistens in the dim bedroom lighting. dark, angry-looking hickeys decorate your complexion, and vi can’t even remember when she sucked bruises into certain parts of you - had she really spent so much time latched to your left hip? the inside of your wrist?

whatever, it’s not important. shes supposed to be focusing on giving you what you want - what you need. what you’ve been begging for since she’d first bit into the flesh where your shoulder and neck connect. it’s been two orgasms since then, and though you’re certainly more delirious now, drool weeping from the corner of your lips, eyes all faraway, you’ve still managed to keep up with the begging.

“please, vi,” you whisper, “please.”

your watery eyes search her frame, something akin to relief washing over your features when you process the fact that vi’s already slipped into her harness. there’s a wrinkle between your brows when you pout like this, and vi wants to lean over and kiss it.

“so needy,” she says instead, shuffling forward on her knees to settle herself between your legs. “can’t stop begging for it, huh?”

she grins when you nod along with what she’s saying, and through your lust-foggy gaze, you think briefly how hot it is when she smiles like that, lip scar stretching just so.

the thought disappears as quickly as it came, though, because now vi’s pushing the tip of her strap through your folds, moving with ease through the wetness spread through your twitching cunt.

“fuuuuck,” she hisses. her gaze is settled on your spread pussy, watching it drool onto the silicon. there’s something else she’d like to commit to memory.

she plays with you a bit more - she’s always liked to play with her food. you’re whimpering and gasping as she curls her hand around her strap, working it upward from your entrance to the puffy bud of your clit. the slick, wet sounds of each movement go right to her own clit, and she’d be lying if she told you she wasn’t leaking through her briefs right now.

“god, vi, i can’t—” you cut yourself off with a high, drawn-out moan, eyes crossing, because vi’s drawing circles over your clit with the strap.

“please,” you say again. and again, and again - a chorus of “please, please, please” until vi’s finally had enough. she pushes her hips into yours, sinking so deep inside of you that you swear you can feel her in your throat.

“that what you need, princess?” vi asks, voice hoarse. battle-rough hands smooth over the soft curves of your hips, and she digs her thumbs into the flesh to steady herself as she pulls out again, only to sheath herself back into you a moment later. all you can manage is a shaky moan in response, front teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“what was that?” vi says as she slams into you again, repeating the motion in quicker succession. “couldn’t hear you.”

you moan again, back arching off the bed, and this time, vi laughs. but as humorous as she finds your inability to answer, it doesn’t keep her from fucking into you faster, rougher. your cunt opens smoothly around her, takes her like it’s made for this.

“try that again,” vi tells you. she waits for that soft, whiny, pathetic moan again, and when the sound tears from your throat, she chuckles again - then, throwing her head back in a melodramatic imitation of you, she makes that same sound herself. she moans like you do, like you are right now - too fucked out to say any real words.

vi’s still fucking you through her mocking imitation, though. “hear that? s’what you sound like, cupcake. fucking needy.”

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but there’s another flood of warmth elsewhere - your cunt gushes impossibly wetter. you moan again, trying for that over-exaggerated, pornstar-type sound, and whatever you do works, because vi’s red-faced and lust-drunk. she fucks you into the mattress at a dizzying pace, and all you can do is lie there and take it, moaning and gasping her name, your mouth releasing an endless stream of ah, ah, ah…

and vi mocks you at every opportunity, laughing with that self-satisfied grin on her lips, hips snapping forward to pull more of those sounds out of you.

after, when she’s made you cream on her strap at least twice, she smooths a hand through your hair and kisses that wrinkle between your brows.

“that was hot, you know,” you say, nuzzling into her jawline. she smells like sweat and sex and musk, that characteristically vi scent that’s always so intoxicating. “you mocking me, i mean.”

“figured you liked it,” vi says with a poorly-concealed smirk. “guess i’ll have to humiliate you more next time.”

“shut up.” you shove her away, but when she pulls you back in against her naked chest, smothering you in kisses, you can’t help but beam.

[amirasainz]

Hiiii, I love your blog so much. I was wondering if you could do Lando, who's girlfriend is a model. It is during the fashion weeks and she is very exhausted but boyfriend Lando takes care of her and is cheering her on the whole time. Thank you bby 💘

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Lights, Camera and Flashes

The buzzing chaos of Fashion Month had arrived. Yn was in her element, juggling fittings, rehearsals, and back-to-back shows across New York, London, Milan, and Paris. As the world’s most sought-after model, her name was on every designer’s list. Each city meant new challenges, new outfits, and new pressures.

“Babe, are you sure you’re okay?” Lando asked as they touched down in New York for the first leg of the month.

Yn, seated beside him on the private jet, turned to give him a smile. “I’m fine, Lando. Just excited. It’s going to be a long month, but I’ve done this before.”

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Yeah, but this year, you’re in every major show. You’re human, Yn, not a robot.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said firmly, squeezing his hand. “Especially with you here.”

Lando chuckled. “Alright, but remember, the moment you feel off, you tell me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she promised.

---

New York

The energy in New York was electric. Yn stepped into the first fitting at Alexander Wang’s studio, where she was immediately swarmed by assistants and stylists. Lando stayed close but out of the way, watching her work with awe.

“You’re staring again,” Yn teased during a break, catching him leaning against the wall with a goofy grin.

“Can’t help it,” he replied. “You’re incredible.”

Show day arrived, and Lando was front and center in the audience, holding a bouquet of red roses. As the music boomed and Yn stepped onto the runway, he couldn’t contain himself.

“Let’s go, Yn!” he shouted, drawing amused glances from nearby attendees.

Yn strutted down the runway, her confidence radiant. She caught Lando’s eyes briefly, a small smile tugging at her lips. When the show ended, Lando was waiting backstage with his bouquet, pulling her into a tight hug.

“You killed it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thanks, babe.”

But as they exited the venue, they were met by a sea of paparazzi. Lando immediately stepped into protective mode, wrapping his arm around Yn’s waist and glaring at anyone who got too close.

“Back up,” he barked, shielding her with his body.

“Lando, it’s okay,” Yn murmured, though she appreciated his protectiveness.

He guided her safely to their car, refusing to let go until they were away from the chaos.

---

London

The second week brought them to London, where Yn had fittings with Burberry and Victoria Beckham. Though she was still riding the high from New York, Lando noticed the subtle changes—her slightly slower pace, the way she leaned on him more often.

“Feeling alright?” he asked one evening as they returned to the hotel.

“Yeah,” she replied, but her voice lacked its usual energy.

Lando wasn’t convinced. After her first show in London, she came backstage to find him waiting with a massive bouquet of lilies.

“You didn’t have to do this again,” she said, though her smile betrayed how much she loved it.

“Of course, I did. You deserve it.”

The paparazzi were even more aggressive in London, shouting questions and shoving cameras in their faces. Lando tightened his grip on Yn’s hand, his jaw set.

“Lando, it’s fine,” she whispered, but he shook his head.

“It’s not fine. They don’t get to treat you like this.”

Once they were safely inside their car, Lando turned to her. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said.

“I can handle it,” she replied softly.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he countered.

---

Milan

By the time they arrived in Milan, Yn’s energy was noticeably lower. Her flawless walk on the runway was still the talk of the industry, but off-stage, she was quieter, more fatigued.

“You’re not eating enough,” Lando pointed out one morning as she picked at her breakfast.

“I’m just not hungry,” she said.

“You’re running on fumes, Yn,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine, Lando,” she insisted, though the dark circles under her eyes told a different story.

Lando doubled down on his support, making sure she had everything she needed. After each show, he was there with flowers, helping her navigate the crowds and shielding her from the paparazzi.

When she came back to the hotel after her third show in Milan, she collapsed onto the bed. Lando didn’t say a word; he simply ordered room service, drew a bath, and set up her favorite playlist.

“Come on, princess,” he said, lifting her gently. “Time to relax.”

---

Paris

By the time they reached Paris, Yn was running on pure determination. Paris Fashion Week was the grand finale, and every major designer wanted her.

Lando could see how hard she was pushing herself, and it worried him.

“Yn, you need to slow down,” he said one evening as they walked back to their suite.

“I can’t,” she replied, her voice cracking. “This is the biggest week of the year.”

“And you’re the biggest model of the year. You’ve already proven yourself,” he argued. “Your health is more important.”

She didn’t respond, but he noticed the tears welling in her eyes.

On the night of her final show, Lando was louder than ever, cheering her on as she walked the runway. When it was over, he met her backstage with the largest bouquet yet.

“You did it,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

“I’m so tired,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you,” he said, kissing her forehead.

---

When they finally returned to their hotel that night, Lando went all out to pamper her. He ordered her favorite food, prepared a warm bubble bath, and queued up her favorite movie.

“Lando,” Yn said as she sank into the bath, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, sitting beside the tub. “You’re my princess, Yn. You deserve the world.”

As the movie played later, Yn curled up in Lando’s arms, her head resting on his chest.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to do anything alone,” he replied, brushing a kiss against her temple. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Yn drifted off to sleep, the exhaustion of the month finally catching up to her. But with Lando by her side, she felt safe, loved, and completely at peace.

And for Lando, there was no greater honor than being her rock.

[stalkedandblocked]

puppy! reader x sevika AHH!

tw. afab genitals but no pronouns used, puppy nickname for reader, ignored at first, fingering (receiving), oral (giving), leg(/boot?) humping, a little degradation and size difference, hair pulling, spanking, mentions of exhibition, no established relationship

a/n: my first time writing with a female character so i did my best（◞‸◟）but i love sevika so much and couldn’t get this out of my head sooo

sevika treating you like her pet, she gives you simple commands, even puts you on a leash sometimes. even while out she commands and you follow, more subtly of course, but she still has this dominating atmosphere around her.

always sitting at her feet, on your knees leaning against her muscular legs. you love to wrap your arms around them and hug them, relaxing into them, while she continues whatever she’s doing, ignoring you.

of course that’s not all you love to do when at her feet. your just a dumb mutt, of course you get so excited just watching her, being good for her. you get out of line and start grinding against her leg, the angle rubbing your clit just right. you whimper and lean closer to her thick legs. she doesn’t acknowledge you just continuing whatever she’s doing whether your in each others privacy or even at the bar around people.

you keep your moans and whimpers to yourself while you rub up and down her boot. the friction just enough to feel good, even through your pants (if you were wearing them). you squeeze around nothing as you almost reach climax. of course sevika is ignoring you but she knew what was going on. sometimes she was nice and let you have your orgasm, or sometimes she would pull you by the hair and pull you off her leg.

of course when this happened one of two things would happen. most times she would pull you into her lap, ass up and spank you silly. mocking you for being so horny and needy, calling you a dumb puppy while you would whimper silently. her mechanical arm holding your head down. once sevika thought you had enough of a punishment from her spanking she would start fingering your soaked pussy.

she shoved her hand down your pants and circled your clit, so swollen and sensitive. she laughs and mocks you as you cry more from being so achy. your hole leaks and squeezes even more around nothing still, you start begging for her fingers. once she thinks you had enough teasing on your clit she slowly pushes them in as deep as they go. her ring, middle, and index filling you up from how thick they are. she quickly finds your g spot, rubbing up and down it. your wetness leaks down her wrist, soaking her arm. she shifts her hand so her thumb can continue rubbing your clit and it’s not long before you cum all around her hand. sevika chuckles as you as you beg and cry for more, thrashing and twitching your legs under her touch.

and there’s the alternative where sevika gets worked up.. once your pulled of her leg she’s quick to undo her belt and pull down her pants enough to get your face between her legs. you kiss around her pussy teasing it, but she quickly puts an end to that, grabbing a fistful of your hair. you suck her clit and trace the tip of your tongue around it. sevika lets out low groans that have her head falling backwards. she keeps her hand over your head, keeping you in place. you draw your tongue up and down from her clit all the way down to her hole that’s soaked. you give a kiss to her clit then slowly nudge you tongue in. you look up as she’s thrown her head back in pleasure, her chest heaves. you enjoy the small moans that slips out. you tongue fuck her until she’s thrusting her hips into your face, fucking it herself. she finishes into your mouth. her cum and wetness running down your face. she finally lets you back away from her once she’s calmed down.

once she sees the mess she made on your face she’s quick to pull you up and lick the mess off, pushing the cum on her tongue into your mouth while you sit prettily on her lap liek avoid puppy.

[shy2-29]

I already really love your writing.

Can I request a NSFW story where reader is Sunghoon's girlfriend and Heeseung's best friend? Hee has a huge crush on her since before Sunghoon started dating her. Sunghoon and her are always quite secretive and quiet but one time, thinking they were alone in the dorm, they got louder. And Heeseung who happened to come back home and heard it, jerks himself off but gets caught by Sunghoon.

omg tysm for the compliment 🙈 lwky half asleep while writing this but I hope it’s still presentable

Unforbidden Love | SeungSung

pairings: sunghoon x reader x heeseung kinda

wc: 1.8k

synopsis: Heeseung and you have been friends friends for a while, and Heeseung has always had a crush on you since. He then introduces you to his friend Sunghoon, which you then end up dating. When it comes to intimate moments, you guys are usually kept to yourself. One day, Heeseung arrives at the dorm early that him and Sunghoon share, not expecting to see you both fucking. He can’t help but feel hurt seeing both his best friend and crush together, but the sight also turns him on. Later on, Sunghoon catches Heeseung jerking off, staring at a picture of y/n.

authors note: this was confusing for me to write but I DID IT ANYWAYS 🙃 not proof read

warning: pet names (princess, baby), love triangle kinda, swearing, threesomes mentioned, masturbating/jerking off, p in v, unprotected sex (never do this), nipple play, degrading, hair pulling, sunghoon!dom, sub!reader, voyeurism, begging, anything I missed pls lmk

18+ mdni.

—

You and Heeseung have known each other for many years, thanks to your mothers' close friendship. You both met each other when you were 11 and he was 12 years old, and you have been good friends ever since.

Even more surprisingly, both of you ended up attending the same school despite the age difference. Now at 22 and 23 years old, Heeseung has decided to introduce you to one of his friends, Sunghoon, who is the same age as you.

When you lay eyes on him, you're taken aback by his appearance; he's incredibly attractive. However, his initial demeanor is quite reserved, which only piques your curiosity and determination to break through his shell.

Heeseung observes your behavior around Sunghoon, noticing the subtle things you do to try to get him to open up to you.”

You constantly ask Sunghoon questions, such as "Do you want to study together after school?" or "What are you planning to do this weekend?" or "Do you want to hang out with Heeseung and I tomorrow?"

Sunghoon can feel your eyes on him, studying his every move, while your questions and insistent offers to spend time together catch him off guard.

He's not used to someone being so insistent and curious about him. He notices your efforts to draw him out of his reserved shell, and he can't deny that he finds your determination and curiosity cute.

As the days go on, Sunghoon finds himself becoming more and more intrigued by you. He starts to observe you more closely, picking up on your small habits and quirks.

It has been several weeks since you started spending more time with Sunghoon, much to the frustration of Heeseung, who had harbored feelings for you since middle school and believed you reciprocated the sentiment.

Feeling left out, Heeseung approaches you at your locker and asks, "What are you up to after school today?"

You respond with a smile, "Oh, me and Sunghoon are going out on a date."

Heeseung's emotions are mixed upon hearing this news. Despite feeling hurt, he realizes he can't blame Sunghoon for asking you out since he never confessed his feelings to you.

Heeseung feels a pang of jealousy and hurt at your response, his heart sinking at the thought of you going on a date with Sunghoon. He tries to hide his emotions, but his expression gives him away.

"Sunghoon asked you out?" he asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.

You nod, a smile on your face as you continue putting your books away into your locker. "Yeah, he did. We're going to grab some coffee and walk around the park," you explain.

Heeseung bites the inside of his cheek, trying to contain his emotions. He had always hoped that you would eventually realize his feelings and return them, but it seemed like that hope had been dashed.

He forces a smile and says, "I see. Well, have fun on your date, I guess."

He walks away, trying to convince himself that he's happy for you and Sunghoon. However, deep down, he can't help but feel a sense of resentment towards his friend, wondering why Sunghoon had to ask you out when he had known you for so long and had feelings for you himself.

Over time, your bond with Sunghoon continues to deepen, with him becoming more outgoing and flirtatious in your presence, albeit with moments of shyness that make him all the more endearing.

However, despite his attempts, Heeseung cannot fully shake off the feeling of jealousy and longing as he witnesses your relationship with Sunghoon blossoming. Deep down, he wishes you were his and his alone.

Heeseung observes you and Sunghoon's interactions from afar, watching as Sunghoon slowly comes out of his shell and becomes more flirtatious and playful with you. It only serves to heighten his own feelings of jealousy and longing.

He finds it difficult to suppress his emotions, watching as your relationship with Sunghoon grows stronger. Despite his attempts to cover up his true feelings, his eyes betray him, reflecting his inner turmoil.

It was late evening, and Heeseung returned to his shared dorm with Sunghoon after hanging out with friends. He anticipated the space to be quiet and empty as his roommate was frequently out late studying.

As he entered the living room, faint sounds reached his ears, emanating from a nearby room. Initially perplexed, he approached the source of the sounds. As he drew closer, the sounds became more distinct and recognizable.

Heeseung's eyes widen as he listens through the thin wall, his heart racing at the familiar sounds and voices. He recognizes them as your voice and Sunghoon's, the tones and rhythm suggesting an intimate moment.

“Fuck,” Heeseung hears Sunghoon's strained voice utter, "Be quiet for me, okay, princess? Heeseung will be back any minute." The sounds of skin slapping wants to make Heeseung puke, knowing his best friend and his crush are fucking turns him on.

His face turns bright red as conflicting emotions tear through him. The sound of Sunghoon calling you "princess" makes something twist painfully in his chest, while the intimate sounds push him perilously close to breaking point.

Heeseung's hand reaches out, his fingers trembling as he presses his ear against the wall, the sounds growing louder and more intense. He can hear your high-pitched moans, Sunghoon's soothing whispers, along with lewd slapping noises.

"You like that, baby?" Sunghoon's whisper reaches Heeseung's ears, "You always feel so good... Heeseung's room is right below ours, you’d like that huh? You like that fact he could walk in on us at any moment don’t you?"

Heeseung swallows hard, his mind reeling at Sunghoon's words. He can hear your breath hitching, your moans growing louder as Sunghoon mentions his name. He can almost imagine the scene unfolding on the other side of the wall.

Inching the door open just a crack, Heeseung steals a glance through the narrow gap. His heart nearly stops as he catches sight of Sunghoon positioned behind you, one hand gripping your waist while the other pulls your hair.

“please-” you moan, arching your back as he hits a certain spot. “Sunghoon, Please!” Tears are running down your cheeks as he thrusts into you faster, bringing his head down to bite down on one of your nipples.

His breath hitches, eyes fixed on the sight in front of him. Watching Sunghoon mark your skin, hearing your desperate pleas, watching your body move against his - it's overwhelming. He unconsciously grabs his cock through his pants, barely able to hold back a whimper.

His heart is racing, watching their bodies move together in perfect rhythm. The sight of Sunghoon biting your nipple, combined with your tear-streaked face and desperate moans, causes a strange mix of desire, jealousy, and pain in his chest.

“m’ close,” you scream, burrying your face in the crook of Sunghoons neck, “s’ close Sunghoon!”

Heeseung watches, torn between wanting to stare and needing to look away. Sunghoon's grunts and your desperate cries push him dangerously close to the edge. His own breathing becomes heavy, and he's unconsciously stroking himself through his pants.

Rushing to his room with trembling hands, he pushes the door closed behind him. The sounds from next door continue to echo through the walls, driving him insane. He quickly unbuckles his belt and pushes down his pants, wrapping his hand around his throbbing cock. At this moment, he really wishes he was fucking you instead. He wants to be the one filling you up, making you feel good.

He starts jerking off furiously, his mind filled with the image of you and Sunghoon. He imagines it's him behind you, gripping your hips tightly, slamming into you over and over.

His hand moves rapidly up and down his length as he tries to drown out the noises next door with his own heavy breathing. He can still hear your muffled cries, Sunghoon's grunts, and the bed creaking.

His trembling fingers brush against his phone as he turns it on, pulling out his favorite picture of you that he took not so long ago, As he continues stroking himself, imagining those soft lips wrapped around his cock instead of Sunghoon's. The conflicting emotions of desire and jealousy threaten to consume him, making his movements rougher, more urgent. "Damn it...” he groans, throwing his head back.

As the noises from next door finally quiet down, Heeseung finds himself panting heavily, his cock still throbbing in his hand. He stares at the picture, a bitter taste in his mouth. "Why..." he murmurs to himself, "Why did I have to fall for someone so irresistible?"

Heeseung hears the door slam, probably indicating that he was probably getting something from the kitchen. He knows he should be careful, but he can’t help himself.

He freezes in his tracks, heart racing like it might explode from his chest. The slam of the door echoes through the house, telling him clearly that Sunghoon has stepped out for a moment. His mind races with conflicting desires as he continues to pace up and down his long hard member, zooming into your face on his phone.

The door creaks open again, interrupting his intense moment. He quickly tries to adjust himself and turn away, but it's too late - Sunghoon's standing there in the doorway, his expression a mix of shock and... recognition of what Heeseung's been doing.

Sunghoon's eyes lock onto the phone in Heeseung's hand, his gaze flicking between the screen and Heeseung's face. He can see everything - the phone zoomed in on a picture of you as he jerks himself off.

His face turns bright red as Sunghoon's gaze lingers for just a moment too long on his still-hard cock. He tries to cover himself with his other hand, but it's clear what he was doing. The tension in the room becomes unbearable. "Sunghoon..."

Sunghoon leans against the doorframe, a knowing smirk spreading across his face as he crosses his arms. "Listening in and jerking off y/n’s pictures? Really Heeseung? You could have just told me you wanted to fuck her, and I wouldn’t care.”

Heeseung's face contorts with anger and embarrassment, his cheeks flushing red as Sunghoon calls him out. He straightens his back, trying to maintain eye contact. "You make it sound like you'd be okay with sharing..."

Sunghoon sits beside Heeseung, a blanket wrapped around his lower half, and explains, "Y/n has actually had feelings for you for quite a while now. But she thought you didn't return her feelings because you never said anything to her. That's why we ended up together. I’m sure she won’t mind if you fuck her right now.”

“Can I?”

“Sorry-?”

“Can I fuck her right now?”

His breath catches in his throat, heart pounding as Sunghoon lets out a chuckle, nodding his head. The casual way Sunghoon speaks about sharing her, even encouraging it, makes him feel both aroused and conflicted. "You're seriously okay with this?”

Heeseung bites his lower lip, his eyes flicking down to the blanket covering Sunghoon's lap, imagining what's underneath. The tension between them is palpable, the air thick with unspoken desires and forbidden thoughts. "What if I want more than just once?”

Sunghoon chuckles, giving Heeseung a pat on the back. "That's a question for another day."

—

requests open but.. wow this is crazy

[kurooangel]

𖦹 ILLICIT AFFAIRS ۶ৎ ft miya atsumu. ★

synopsis: he just wants to be a good neighbour.

warnings: smut. timeskip haikyuu. f!reader. cheating (reader to husband, husband to reader). atsumu is a bit dumb. pet names (babe, gorgeous). atsumu calls reader a whore (1). reader is 30, atsumu 22. MASTERLIST

atsumu knows you have a husband, the one who keeps saying you he is working late, despite you know he is just fucking his secretary. atsumu knows you have a two years old you should be taking care of, instead of taking care of his dick. but he can't do nothing about it, he saw you crying a few weeks ago when the two of you went to throw out the trash. since then, he's been there to make you forget about that stupid husband who doesn't appreciate his hot wife.

he is laying his broad back against the headboard of your bed, his big hands guiding your hips as you ride his huge length. atsumu is filling you so, so good as he kisses your breast and his tongue plays with your nipple. "just like that, 'tsumu" you whine, his hips moving forward to find with yours, his tip reaching your sweet point while he sucks your tit harder.

"yeah? do you like it, gorgeous?" he lifts his gaze and his brown eyes, full of lust, lock with yours. he lifts you slightly and pull you back down against him, his hardness in and out of your dripping cunt again and again. you can't even tell how many times you have cum, but he keeps fucking both of your fluids inside you again and again. "such a fucking whore, huh? leave that husband of yours, lemme make this pussy mine" he mumbles as his grip tightens, gripping your hips so hard that it hurts, his fingers digging into your flesh as he makes you ride him so hard that your perfectly manicured nails scratch his chest and abs, red marks on his perfect, toned body. you can tell he is coming because of the way he clings to you, his brown eyes look at you filled with adoration and your chest warms as you cum as well.

atsumu's grip on your hips relaxes and he caresses the skin where his digits are marked. he lifts one hand to run it through your hair when you lean against his chest, breathless. he pulls out with a groan and takes off the condom with care under your gaze. "you know... I'm free tomorrow night. my husband is taking a fly tomorrow in the morning" you whisper against the skin of his neck.

"you're so eager" he chuckles smugly, his usual cocky grin . "if you want me to eat you out, I can do it now" you let out an amused scoff and you lay down on the mattress.

"go ahead" he smirks and obliges. "but what I — ssshit, miya! — what I meant, is that I could maybe t-take that... suggestion" you say looking away from him but still with your fingers tangled in his blonde locks.

"what suggestion, babe? I say a lot of things for this amazing pu— hey, look at me" he bites your clit and you gasp, but it's effective since your eyes are locked with his again as his tongue licks your core. you need more, and he knows it. but atsumu miya is the biggest tease in this world. "were you asking me for a date, gorgeous?" you have to take all your willpower — which is not much having this man eating your pussy — to not look away. you nod, a slight flush spreading on your already rosy cheeks because of his smirk and teasing tone. he suddenly spits on you and eats you like he always does. rough, hard, like a starving man who just found water. his tongue glides through your folds and draws circles on your clit. you're so close, you pull him closer and your back arches off the mattress. you know he is smirking, you know he will make a snarky remark, but he is too busy enjoying his meal now. you cum as he says "I'll gladly take you on a date, I'll make you divorce that short dick man even if you're already mine"

[skay-ali]

The Forgotten Daughter

well I finally did it.

first of all merry christmas and enjoy the chapter

Dear family

This may be sudden... I don't even know why I'm writing this letter anymore, it was supposed to be about the big decision I made that would change my life, but even so I don't know why I'm leaving explanations.

My plan was always to never see you again, each of you, I still feel very hurt by everything, although I know that these words will not make a big change in you.

But enough berating them, I'm not racking my brain to find the right words for a letter full of complaints.

I was always a girl who avoided problems or at least I like to think I was, Father, brothers and my dear confidant Alfred, despite getting into big trouble.

The lights were flashing brightly, the music at full volume filled the room, it was very hot due to the sweat that all the bodies were emanating, you watched all the visitors of the club go crazy with euphoria after a few drinks and continued with a long list of crazy things, you On the contrary, you decided that it was one of those depressive days, where you spent your time seeing the bad side of everything and being miserable.

You didn't follow your friends to any of their craziness; on the contrary, you stayed in a place at the bar away from everyone, along with a few glasses full of a low-grade cherry-flavored liquor.

You still taste the light cherry flavor on your palate. There were so many liquors on the shelf, many of different sizes, appearances, names, years and strengths, you wondered if anyone ever drank them all, if there was a person who in his miserable, boring, short life provokes every liquor on the restaurant's menu. bar.

You looked away when you heard the sound of a chair being moved, you saw a man taller than yours, with a somewhat abrupt but attractive appearance. You took another sip from your glass and returned to your thoughts as you watched the people on the dance floor doing stupid things.

Or so you tried, but by discreetly observing the actions of the man near your seat, it was enough to capture your full attention, to what that guy does in his notebook with his pencil.

“What an artist,” you addressed the subject sitting one seat away from you, “what are you doing in a place as crazy as this?” You turned your gaze to the man with blue-black hair, as you watched him take a sip of his drink and draw with his pencil.

Their eyes connected when the man decided to leave his world and pay attention to your beginning of interaction, he couldn't look away in time, although you didn't blame him, you did the same before because of the curiosity you felt when he saw him, you felt like everything was coming together.

He paused, just him and you, as if the two of you were the only ones in a large room of strangers.

A smile left your lips when you saw the man's dazed attitude, he was so lost in himself that it seems that he forgot about your beginning of conversation until a moment later.

Still, you were afraid that it wasn't nerves that the man was feeling but anger or annoyance at your interaction with him.

“Even if you don't believe it, inspiration can be found in unlikely places… Or even sometimes a muse” came those calm words from his thick but reassuring and animated voice.

You were relieved to hear him speak, but those words that had no sign of annoyance or complaints.

“uhh it's like that... I only saw this place as a garbage dump full of vices” you didn't know how you were still trying to maintain an interaction with that person, perhaps prolonging the feeling of company instead of the one of loneliness sounded more attractive.

“You should look at it from other perspectives, so you'll find things like this” you saw him tear a page out of his notebook without blinking and put it on your forehead.

You were surprised to see your drawing on the paper. Every feature of yours delicately captured with each stroke of the pencil on the paper.

“wow you left me speechless for a moment” you disconnected your gaze from the sheet you had in your hands.

“You are actually a great artist” the drawing was extremely beautiful, you never considered yourself a very beautiful woman, it was common for you to see all your flaws before your best qualities, seeing that paper where you felt that in that drawing you were perfect caused you a feeling emotion and a passing confidence.

However, you couldn't get it out of your head to see yourself drawn in other ways on paper, like a cartoon or Japanese version of yourself; before this moment, you never even had the chance to sit on a bench and wait for an artist to draw you. .

“What's wrong with that face, you look disappointed, maybe you're kidding me” you heard him joke.

“No no… no… on the contrary, I really like it” you quickly defended yourself, afraid of offending the man.

“It's just that..” you felt shy when explaining your reasons, especially when he had an attentive gaze on you.

You saw his eyes wait expectantly for your words.

“You know, the drawing is beautiful, but… even though it sounds silly, I wish I could see myself more in a cartoon or comic” you laughed nervously, after your babbling.

“ahh, are you a comic book lover or something?”

“Yes, well it's something like that” you liked to read some series in comic magazines from time to time, but you preferred mangas, you hid this preference, you weren't going to receive a few words of displeasure for that or start a debate about what genre it was.

Better, much less explain what they were if I didn't know what you were referring to.

“I think I can fix that,” the guy said with an animated and funny voice.

You watched him, fascinated, by how he held his book with enthusiasm, his hands moved quickly from one side to the other on the white sheet, the pencil was handled quickly, you could tell that he had a lot of experience with the ease with which he did it.

It was a long night, between different conversations and laughter with the new guy you met, the night became more tolerable with the man by your side.

Between drinks and meaningless talks, laughter on both sides, silly dances on the floor full of people, just two fools doing the most pathetic steps they had plus some little improvised old waltzes, it ended in a new day with two sleepless but falices talking in a viewpoint of a building that showed the entire city.

Oh, father, you don't know how enchanted I was with that man I met on one of my many outings to parties, I was stupid and childish, but I still allowed myself to dream and love.

You didn't expect to meet again with such a man with whom you managed to connect, but that's how it happened, destiny somehow led them to meet.

You liked having a new person in your circle, with whom you managed to get along so well.

From talking about his work as an artist, giving his opinion on different comics and mangas that they knew, talking about animation to becoming hoarse from speaking with so much emotion and passion with long monologues.

They visited many hidden places in the big city in their days of adventures, even if they were alleys that were not very crowded, now that you think about it, such a careless action was very crazy, but the beautiful places, with new views, like an alley full of colorful fabrics and with different designs that hung over the street, the walls of a neighborhood full of drawings with different artistic techniques, but with many bright colors, the tall buildings that showed views of the entire city.

The days of movies with crazy plots, but that had you glued to the screen to see what happened next.

The rare meals from the carts or street stalls, which they consumed without problems while they sat to observe the lights of the city or the dark sky, accompanied by silence, but the two of them together.

In that moment where the two were together and talking, you felt that they were exchanging many words of great importance to both of them, but seen from other perspectives they were nothing more than insignificant.

That's what love did, right?

And all for one crazy night where you hope to go crazy on alcohol, after sinking into a self-compose for your life.

You will never be able to forget when he gave you his name and you gave him yours... well, half of it, you admit to having lied to him, even if you regretted it, you already knew the problems they would bring you later.

Well at least that's what you thought, you had no idea of ​​the true consequences.

You only thought about the fear of telling him your real last name, that he would look for you and know who you really were, you were afraid that he would see you differently, no longer a strange girl he met in a bar, but the daughter of a millionaire with a history. questionable life, the mere thought of him using you was too much.

So you avoided him by mentioning the amazing last name “Wayne” and mentioning a fake one.

More specifically, that of your false identification, something crazy that you did in your wild adolescence was left to be useful in your future, that false identification that you made with your friends from school to visit different clubs, you used it when you became independent, so that no one It will bother you in your new life.

“_____ , _____ Jones” unsurely you stated your name, you still remember when you made the false identifications with your friends and among all of them you were looking for a new name and surname for the others, you kept your name and they gave you the last name of the protagonist of the book of fashionable at the time because of the film that adapted the story.

A mental chuckle caused you to remember this along with the taunts they threw at you about where your diary was.

“Kayle, Kyle Rayner,” the boy smiled as he introduced himself.

You followed his smile, something in his ended up infecting you. Just two fools in a bar telling each other their names and being ignorantly happy.

It's a shame that that happiness ended some time later, when you never saw Kyle again. Even with a card for him to contact you, you never heard from him.

You woke up happy, in his apartment, the day after spending a night together, alone, without any sign that the man was home, without any note or notice, you waited excitedly for him to return, but he never did, even when you left a message. letter and ways for me to contact you again if the ones they already had didn't work, you never knew anything.

Maybe it was all an adventure and you got carried away... they never clarified what they were, hell maybe he didn't even consider you a friend.

But you and I know, father, that all the fairy tales one creates end quickly, most of the time in the worst ways.

I ended up with a broken heart, still, I kept good memories... and her.

I know it is late, very late, as it has been for many years, but I must confess it, because no parents and siblings would want to know it in the worst possible ways….

Alice Wayne, my dear baby….

You leaned back in your chair as you wrote the last sentence, you did it, you wrote what was overwhelming you so much, the beginning of the letter.

Your eyes burned, a few treacherous tears running down your face.

Your family, your passing love and your beloved daughter always made you sensitive.

It wasn't something you could avoid.

You leaned your head on the headboard of the chair, letting all the blood flow to your head, something strange you used to do to clear your head, you looked at the ceiling and the walls around you upside down.

You noticed the crib on the side of the room near your desk where you were writing.

You saw your baby sleeping calmly, a peaceful face with no signs of discomfort, he was an angel.

Your little angel, and your light... you knew you would do anything for her, like you did right now.

I think if we are similar in some way father.

I ended up having a daughter through carelessness like you did to me.

I need to ask you a big favor father and not only of you but also of the whole family, the biggest and most important one I will do in my life.

If something happens to me... if I end up in big trouble or I no longer exist, any situation that prevents me from taking care of my beloved daughter.

Please watch over her.

Make sure she has the best future, a happy life with everything she needs, that she can grow up as a girl full of light, that she is always kind, wise and with a loving family.

If that's not something they can give you, find someone who can give it to you.

Take care of my treasure, my only happiness, my only family... I know I left a long time ago without saying anything and returned in a hurry to their lives.

Maybe one day they will call me selfish knowing the path I took to leave little Alice to them, the decision I decided to make was not easy, but I did it because I want the best for my little light.

We are all selfish and mean, I was all my life, since I knew that my happiness only depended on me, that I was alone in this world, that only oneself can save oneself.

I think I still am by thinking that I can force them to do something about my problem, I can't force them to take care of someone or take responsibility for a short period of time, turning their lives upside down.

But maybe... with all the love and affection that you could ever see felt for me, I can make you consider helping me and fulfilling my difficult request.

Father, brothers and Alfred... I never said it because of all the anger I felt, because of everything that happened in the mansion, which devastated my thoughts with a lot of anger, forgetting everything I had and made me have a comfortable and pampered life.

Thank you.

Well, he's the father and maybe a future yandere, it's a possibility.

after an exhaustive investigation into possible characters to occupy this role in the series.

although there may be other possibilities with other characters....

Like I tried with the penguin's son, if ___ had decided to hang out more with villains and they adopted her or became her godparents.

Tag list: @kore-of-the-underworld @vanessa-boo @jsprien213 @delias-stuff @vanilliona @bat1212 @yanrandom @Quiarst @palabra de niño salvaje @el termino @leo227 @sirenethblog @ masa para galletas @blueberry19000 @con seguridad

[accio-victuuri]

「 I AM NOT HERE 」 clowning post part iv. aka the main candy compilation now that we have the whole song. here’s part one & two & three for reference which are very short ones.

before we dive into the cpns, i wanna congratulate yibo for another exceptional song! the lyrics are so good and his voice??? his voice??? you all know the part i’m talking about— it’s singer yibo!

let’s start with this ⬆️⬆️⬆️ i think the side by side photo is self explanatory. you have xz drawing the mountains and yibo integrating himself into it and became the mountain himself. i like this whole concept of him being in nature, being all around this person even if he is not there physically as himself. this is so special too considering we always clown about them loving camping & hiking — and other outdoorsy stuff. it may be that nature reminds yibo of those happy times they spend together exploring that environment.

now let’s move on to a very yizhan-y interpretation of the song…

1. some fans have pointed out that it’s 2000 days since the 12.28 tencent starlight awards where they were together. it was post-cql and them going into new roles — a start of well, more complicated times, but they had each other. i don’t really believe too much in these anniversary cpns but i will just leave this here.

2. comparing the water theme & mountains from xz’s photoshoot before that had us all going 🥵🥵🥵, it matches the imagery from yibo’s song.

3. the official description of the song provided by music platforms gave a solid perspective of what it is all about & it’s not far off what we think it is when the teaser/s came out.

“I" is rooted in this land, connected by veins, and time and space are close to each other. "I" live in symbiosis with the mountain, breathe with you, and experience the ups and downs of life. We go through the ups and downs with all things, so the green mountains are flat, and "I" is always present.

I am here, a dialogue with the world. I AM NOT HERE, but I will always be there. This is what "I’m here" is all about. So darling, DON'T BE CRYING, Because this song is a symphony between you and me.

Let me just sit and think about this. It’s such a beautiful meaning. Their love goes beyond the romantic and it’s real. You can see it all around you.

4. Time to dissect the first half of the lyrics 🎶

Many years later // Where will I turn back and look? // Holding flowers I've never seen before // Facing toward you

this reminds us of their first meeting in the field of flowers. out of all the things he can start with, why this? also the graphics for xz’s album is an eternal flower. if we look at it further, it’s more than the literal sense too. the flower he hasn’t seen is this new feeling and having this one person that is became so important to him. the first line is also telling, cause it’s like he is looking back at that moment, many years later, out of all his time, that time is what he wants to recall.

Waving my hand // Don't stay on the lonely island // I'll become a small boat to take you to find the oasis

we knew of this line already and it’s still so romantic. it’s this person who is alone but wyb wants to take him away and help him find that oasis. oftentimes, people tend to have that selfish type of love where they want the other to be isolated. but yibo is not like that. he wants to take the person outside, see the world and fins that happiness together. and him being a small boat is too cute! like he knows he is not that strong but he will do his best to make a difference in his (xz) life and give him freedom & happiness.

My heart enters the mountains / My body sinks into the sea / All to reunite with you and return

the integration of himself with nature. how he has to sink into the sea so he can reunite with that person.

5. second part of the lyrics 🙌🏼. just a disclaimer that he had someone working with him to create this song and the lyrics, but that doesn’t mean he had 0 input. we all know how yibo is at this point and something as personal as his year-end song definitely had his approval with every line.

Falling, scattering into dust

And then being reborn

Pointing at the fireworks

in the sky, never fading

Are you there?

You just need not cry

You just need to bloom

And I will never leave

Don't be crying x 3

You don't need to wait

I'm here

I'm here

Don't be crying

i am weak for that first line, the thought of scattering into dust and being reborn. that’s some eternal love right there! we have reincarnation cpn at some point in the fandom so that feeds into that. the idea of yibo believing in that kind of love, never ending, not even in death makes me feel some type of way 🥹🥹🥹

next up is the imagery of fireworks. something he seems to be fond off per that video ybo shared before. also connect that to when xz was watching the fireworks during shooting wrap.

then it moves into him telling the person to not cry, you just need to bloom and he will never leave. I have explained the very real cpn about this whole crying thing before and it’s such a sweet sentiment! it’s a simple and honest promise, i will not make you cry. you just have to do what you want. yibo is there and will support xz as he succeeds (blooms).

and the last part is the nail in the coffin. you don’t need to wait, i’m here.

well who do we know at some point said that waiting is romantic?

hmmmmm. xiao zhan 🥰🥰🥰🥰

waiting. this word is very charming, it encourages people to expect. if you told me, someone is waiting for me, i would feel very moved. whether it’s my parents, or my lover, i feel that “waiting” is a very romantic word; to have something beautiful in the future waiting.

so this is yibo’s answer. you don’t have to. I’m here.

I hope everyone is having a fun weekend right now! listening to this new song, watching ETU and later follow yibo along at an event 🥂

-END

[filmtv2022]

Part II: Our Time is Limited (18+)

Part One

Pairing: Geta x reader & platonic!Caracalla x reader

Synopsis: Geta and you deal with the aftermath of Caracalla's outburst, finding comfort in each other. Not only is there Caracalla's illness to attend to, but those who surround the emperors are growing more and more weary of their reign. As loyalty wanes, so does the inner circle's patience with your ever-constant presence and the emperors' hot tempers. With so much at stake the balance between keeping the peace and protecting those you love becomes muddy.

Warnings: sexual activity/smut + alcohol consumption + wounds/wound care

A/N: Well, this took a while to write, and I feel like there is more I want to add to this story. So, be on the lookout for part 3 (There may even be a few more parts if it continues to be well received)! I truly cannot say how thankful I am for the response to part 1. I felt the love for sure! So thank you to everyone who read that and has stuck with me here! And as always, please forgive me for any and all mistakes. We're going for a "fun" time... not always a historically accurate time!

-----------------------------------------

No light apart from the moon illuminated the grand bed chamber of the emperor upon your waking. Depending on how it was considered, the hour was either incredibly early or late. No sound could be heard from the hall or the open balcony. The silence should have been comforting, but a nagging pit in your stomach kept you from returning to sleep. A chill had collected in the air. Reprieve from its sting came in the form of Geta’s study frame tangled with yours beneath the luscious sheets. His body produced heat like a raging fire whose flames were fed with rage and the desperate clamber for power.

His protective warmth painted your skin in a heavy flush. Your head tipped back to stare at the man whose body melded with yours in a way that surely must have been crafted by the gods. Like this, lost to sleep, Geta’s youth was easy to see. The healthy glow of his unmarred skin was alluring, drawing your hand from under the covers you traced delicate patterns over his toned chest. Tension in your hip forced you to adjust yourself. Shifting your weight, you accidentally brushed the wound on your cheek. The sudden flash of fresh pain rippled in erratic shocks down the tender column of your throat causing you to hiss. Beside you, Geta stirred in his sleep. 

Uncomfortable and fighting back the multitude of possibilities that flooded your mind, you gave in to the reality that returning to sleep was growing less and less likely. Prone to fitful sleep, even with the sedative, Caracalla was sure to begin fighting his forced slumber sooner rather than later. As carefully as you could, you tried to extricate yourself from Geta’s embrace. You’d managed to free your bare thighs from between his own when the groggy grumble of his voice stopped you cold. 

“Where are you going?” He reached for you, hauling you back before finally opening his eyes. Your chest sat flush with his, and your good cheek rested on him, as his feather-light touch sought any part of you he could reach. The shapes he drew were hypnotizing, jumbling the words in your head. Concerned by your lack of reply, Geta rolled you on your back, allowing him to see your entire face as he rested his weight over part of your body. “It’s early. Stay with me a few hours more.” 

“You know as well as I do the fickle nature of the sedative. I do not wish for him to wake alone. He can be… He can be so scared and lost without a familiar face to ground him when he comes to.” Messy strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tempting you to fix them. With a ghosting touch, you brushed them away from his face. The rich hue of his eyes followed your every move. 

“And you will be there when he needs you, but that is not now. For now, I need you… here… in my bed.” He followed his thought with the trail lips between your breasts. Each graze was accompanied by a tender bite, leaving behind more evidence of the night only he’d be blessed enough to see.  Geta continued to move lower, tasting every inch of skin he could find before pausing to look back at you through hooded lids. The arch of your spine sent heat washing over him.

Struggling to breathe properly, you reached for any part of him you could find. The flare of pleasure that overtook you as Geta came closer to where you wanted him was blinding. With eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t keep the huff of laughter from escaping as you spoke, “You are insatiable, emperor.” 

Nipping at your hipbone he murmured against flushed skin. “I am making up for lost time.” Threading your deft fingers through his messy copper locks, you gripped at the root and tugged roughly earning you a delicious hum. Geta's focus became entirely on drawing those delicious noises from you once more, and to that end he was successful. Gooseflesh ran over your body as chilled air drifted all around. With nothing between you and the emperor, you fell completely to his mercy and desire. 

Geta’s shoulders dipped lower allowing him to wrap one defined arm around your thigh while the other explored the marks he’d created earlier. From his position, he could feel the way your body quaked under his touch. The power he had over you with just the help of his tongue and calloused fingers threw every unwanted thought and worry to the side. This was all he wanted, all he’d ever desired. What once remained fantasy was now freely given. 

A particularly well-placed kiss had you rolling your hips searching for more. Geta’s teasing no longer satisfied the well of lust that threatened to drown you alive. On instinct, your hold tightened, hauling a rumbling groan from him that nearly eclipsed the pitful whimper in which you begged.

“Geta… Please…”

Skimming along your body with his own, he felt the buttery expanse of your skin. Your pebbled breasts pressed into his chest as his breath ghosted in your ear. “Use your words, tell me what you crave.”

“I want you. I want to feel-.” You were cut off by the drag of his fingertips along your most sensitive of skin. The nerves there fired in quick succession, leaving you to focus on the journey his mouth took along the slope of your shoulder. Unsatisfied, yearning for the weight of him, you reached between you. The fragile strength of your trembling fingers wrapped around his cock. Rolling your wrist, Geta shivered. His hips twitched ruining his self-control.

“Then you shall have me.” Were it not for his desperation to fulfill your every wish, he could have stayed like this and let you bring him to his release with just the delectable skill of your hand. Without fanfare, Geta moved quickly, the firm press of him hard against your core had you moaning in anticipation. His lips captured yours in a devouring kiss pulling the focus from the pressure that built as he pressed into you. Your plush walls spasmed in time with the roll of his hips into your own. Tongues and teeth clashed in a fight for control. Even here, where he felt the most vulnerable as if his soul was laid bare for you to consume, he clung to the power that acted as a crutch in his daily life. But the fight was a losing battle.

Geta’s eye fluttered shut, closing him off from you as he buried his countenance into the crook of your neck, and that simply wouldn’t do. You knew this part of him, the boy, now man, that retreated inside himself when things grew too much.  The bold and confident facade he put on for the public was a disguise that few had been able to decipher... apart from you. Tenderly, you traced the length of his spine, paying attention to the way he shuddered under your touch. Much softer than before, you wound your fingers through his hair while guiding his brow to your own.

“Look at me. Do not hide from me now.”  Your words enveloped him, easing him back to the present and away from whatever tried to steal him from you. Carefully Geta met your eyes. Their normal severity was absent, replaced with the soft haze of adoration. 

“I love you.” The tender confession tumbled from your lips, and the truth of it shattered the last vestiges of the barrier that ran between you. All walls had been abandoned. The steady snap of his thrusts brought the pair of you closer to oblivion. Together you fell, the steady crash of energy over every nerve filled the space with heady moans of pleasure. 

Too soon for your liking the moment waned, leaving you breathless and weak beneath him. Geta rested his weight along his forearms to prevent crushing you. From his position, he watched a new line of crimson spill down your cheek. The sight of it brought a flood of unwanted emotions swirling in his stomach.

“You're bleeding again.” His voice wobbled with exhaustion and worry. The thick pad of his thumb brushed away the evidence, smearing the dried blood from hours before with the bright hue of that which flowed currently. From this proximity, Geta got a truer picture of your condition. Deep patches of black and purple bloomed across your cheek and brow, but that was not what fumbled the rhythm of his heart.

The hidden outline of fingers around the base of your throat undid him. Masked by the layer of dried ichor that coated your throat he saw the depth of his brother’s illness. Never had he imagined Caracalla would be capable of hurting you in this way. The slice of a blade had been beyond reason, but his hand around your throat… that was unconscionable. 

Rage burned hot, the flare of his nostrils timed with the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he tried to calm himself. You knew without a doubt the thoughts that sped through his mind. Anger, disbelief, sorrow but most of fury. “I will never let him lay his hands upon you again.” 

“Please, don’t make promises you can’t keep, Geta.” Something new flashed in his eyes as he looked down at you, and the sight of it broke tender and soft. “Even you cannot keep me safe from him, not entirely. I want to believe that everything wrong about our lives will right itself in time, but that is a childish, fool-hardy thought. Even you cannot deny that.”

“Why? This is… what we share… Why cannot we find a way out of this mess together? Shouldn’t we be allowed happiness?” The same reasoning from the night before returned. A pitiful well of dampness pooled at the corners of his eyes. The dejected young man who looked to others for reassurance in everything he did bore himself to you fully.  “I can keep you safe. Do you trust me?” 

“With my life.” You reached for him, pulling his lips to yours in a sympathetic and calming embrace. It lasted just long enough for his breathing to settle and his mind to slow. Gently, Geta shifted his weight away from your body giving you space to recover. Torn from his steadying presence, you rolled onto your side following him with your gaze as he slipped from the bed. He pulled a robe from the floor and wrapped it around himself.  Exhaustion crossed your vision and dulled your mind, lulling you closer to sleep. Only the gentle clink of glass against glass kept you from falling away entirely.  

Geta returned to you quickly, his hands full of what appeared to be vials of acetum and honey, two clean cloths resting over his wrist. Finding a spot to deposit the vials on the bed, he took one of the rags. With some hesitation, he reached between your plush thighs, wiping away the mess the pair of you'd made. The sudden jolt of your hips as he reached your core slowed his hand, easing the strength with which he worked. Your weight settled back into the plush sheets as he finished and discarded the cloth upon the flood.

“Sit up.” His words were tender,  holding none of the desperation from before. Following his command,  you lifted yourself from the comfort of the bed, the sheets crumpled further under your movement. Geta’s eyes raked over your body, admiring the swell of your bare breasts and the curve of your waist. A glint of something more akin to lust was shown briefly before he settled into the space next to you. With practiced care and thoughtful hands, the emperor cleansed your wounds and removed the remnants of dried blood. Your focus never left his face as he worked. Instead, you took the time to memorize the tug of concentration between his brows. Deep lines formed there creating a picture of what was to come, of an older Geta, of an emperor marked by the passage of time. You prayed the gods would favor you, for that was a vision you prayed to see in person. 

“There, that’s better.” Geta twisted to discard the vials and cloth upon the nearby stand. “Come, let us sleep. The day is sure to be long enough without the edge of weariness dulling our minds.” 

Slowly, you sank back into each other’s arms, your bodies together in perfect harmony as sleep overtook the pair of you.

-------------------------------------- 

Fresh morning light seeped into the sea of curtains around the bed chamber. Were it not for the pressing knaw of anxiety, you’d have happily stayed curled in Geta’s arms. But that was not a possibility. Knowing that time was running short to return to Caracalla before he woke, you extricated yourself from the comfort of your lover's embrace. 

The marble was startlingly cold beneath your feet forcing you to work quickly to find your discarded robe. The memory of the night before was stunningly clear making it easy to find your blood-stained clothes. Stooping, you grabbed the creamy fabric, shoving your arms inside before tying it tightly around your waist. 

You chanced a glance over your shoulder at Geta who was still peaceful in his bed. Without further hesitation, you disengaged the lock and made your way into the mostly empty hall. Only two guards remained posted to protect the emperor. Thankfully, the comings and goings of women from Geta’s chamber were nothing new. Your presence there may have been different from the norm, but it was hardly shocking given the previous night’s difficulties. 

Your bare footsteps, pounded down the hallway toward Caracalla, praying to the gods that you’d find him asleep. Rounding the corner, you watched as the guards parted to allow you into the room. There were no questions or need to exchange words, this room had been your home for more than a decade. Not a soul would question your presence inside. 

Caracalla’s living quarters were nearly as extravagant as his brothers. The only strange addition was that of his pet monkey who sat alert on the table, gnawing at the fresh fruit that had been placed there the night before for his consumption. Dundus chirped at your arrival, announcing it to his still-slumbering owner. Curled in a ball on his side, the emperor lay oddly upon the covers.

There was nothing comfortable or dignified about how he was left. With soft steps, you made your way to him. His chest rose and fell in shallow waves marking the hold the medication still had upon his mind. Much the same as his brother, he looked far younger in sleep, and yet with Caracalla, the evidence of his poor health would never fully disappear. The sores on his face had broken through the remnants of the makeup on his tear-stained cheeks. A measure of guilt flooded your veins, churring the acid in your empty stomach and forcing you into action. 

Beside the vanity sat a pitcher of clean water and a rag you’d readied before things fell apart the previous evening. It had become your nightly ritual to clean Caracalla’s face of the day’s makeup before covering each mark upon his skin with acetum and honey. It kept the bond between you strong as you were the only person he allowed to care for him in that way.

Coming face to face with the mirror, you did your best to avoid your reflection, but ignoring it was nearly impossible. Your fingers wrapped around the pitcher as you poured it into the empty bowl that sat in the center of the flat surface. The motion was done on instinct giving you time to assess your injuries personally. 

A deep purple swath had formed around your eye, seeping down below the slash that marked your cheekbone. The bruise throbbed with every flick of your eye, but it was the deep cut that truly pained you. A thin line of dried blood sat in the wound creating a gruesome visage. Nothing could hide the terrifying mark of the fingers that had closed around your throat before the final attack. Even in the light of day, you could feel their presence as though the hand remained heavy against you.

Glancing dead ahead into the mirror, the most terrifying part of all was not the injuries, it was not knowing who would wake up and rejoin the world when Caracalla rose. The pitcher clanked against the stone as you sat it down to grab the cloth. Dampening the thin fabric, you wrung it out and collected the vial of acetum and jar of honey to soothe his sores before returning to the emperor. There was just enough space on the edge of the bed for you to sit near his head. With gentle strokes, you cleansed his face, being sure to give extra care to spots of broken skin. Free of the mask, the progression of his illness became more apparent. Using the same rag, you dabbed the acetum on each of the marks before following with the golden liquid in the hope that it would provide some relief.  

It took only minutes for you to finish caring for the emperors’s needs, but it felt like an eternity. Part of you hoped he would wake as you worked but another part of you prayed he would continue to rest. Discarding the rag and other supplies nearby, you found yourself gravitating toward Caracalla’s slumbering frame. A deep ache radiated deep in your soul, gripping you tightly in an unrelenting hold. No matter how far he’d fallen, no matter the faults of his mind, this man would forever be yours. He’d forever be the one who captured your heart first and for that, you were eternally grateful. 

The bridge of your nose burned as you fell into his presence. The clean scent of his robes mixed with the bitter tang of wine that clung to him.  Fearful of letting him go, you wrapped an arm around his side and hauled yourself close. Your fists twisted into the flowing fabric at his back as you hid your face in his chest. Shrouded in him, your lungs hitched, tears streamed in searing lines down your cheeks, stinging the raw skin around your wound. But that was secondary to the hole that grew in your heart every time you allowed yourself to contemplate Caracalla's remaining time. 

Hours slipped away unnoticed, leaving the pair of you to while away the minutes in each other’s arms. In time, the gods must have favored your first desire, for as the blinding rays of early morning crept toward midday, Caracalla stirred beside you. Uncertain of what was to come, you kept your visage concealed.

“Good morning, my love. How does the new day find you?” Your voice trembled with worry as you watched him push to sit beside you. A hazy fog slowed his mind and his speech, forcing you to be patient as he reached out to touch your cheek. His brows pulled together in concern at the sight. The soft brush of his fingertips over the cut sent fresh lances of hurt zinging down your neck. Still silent, Caracalla watched the way you recoiled from him before attempting to speak. 

“You are injured. Who hurt you?” There was so much innocence in his eyes. Without question, there was no memory of the previous night, and for that you were thankful. Caracalla knowing that he’d caused you this pain would have done nothing but burden an already fragile man with more turmoil. 

You shook your head, hoping to shove off the worry as best you could. “No one hurt me. I decided to venture to the baths after too much wine. I lost my footing and slipped. It is my fault.” With what little strength you could muster, you sat up fully beside him. 

“Does it hurt terribly?” He took your hand and held it in his lap.

“No, not terribly.” Your free hand rose to hold his cheek, “I promise.” Quiet fell over the pair you allowing Caracalla to trace the map of bruises that marred your neck. Even he noticed the odd shape of the marks low upon your throat. You could see the thought teeter on his lips for a moment before the words tumbled from him so childlike and sincerely. Nearly the same words his brother had spoken to you just hours earlier.

“I will always protect you, you must know that.” He held your gaze tightly in his, running his thumb over the back of your hand while he waited for you to respond. 

“I do. I do.” And the falsehood of your reply brought fresh tears to your eyes. Despite the many factors that stood between you and the happy life you'd once thought possible with Caracalla, you loved him beyond reason. Even though you were losing your best friend in real-time to an illness that was as mysterious in its origin as in its timeline of destruction, you trusted him. He’d stood by your side, welcoming you into the fray all those years ago. Never did he shame your lack of knowledge about the way things in the upper crust of Roman society worked. He was a good man at his core.

-----------------------------------

Chaos had taken over Caracalla’s chamber as the day’s newest adventures in the Colosseum grew nearer.  Dressed in an opulent stola, you chanced a glance at the fiery-haired many who sat behind you. Nearly done being dressed, only a crown of laurels remained. Seated in a low chair, he fiddled with the jewelry that adorned his hands and neck. Taking advantage of his distraction, and unable to ignore the desire to be near him, you made your way across the cavernous room to Caracalla. Stepping between his legs you reached back to grab the golden crown in your delicate fingers. With great care you placed it upon his head, fixing his disheveled hair as it poked out in awkward angles. From his spot, he watched in awe, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“There, now you are ready to face your adoring public. May the gods make their will known in the arena this day.” You stooped to place a gentle kiss on the middle of his forehead. The gesture was one of trust and friendship. 

Overwhelmed, you stood upright and took a step back from the emperor. You’d only just begun to turn around when a gentle hand clasped around your wrist forcing you to turn back to Caracalla. His voice was barely more than a whisper as he spoke to you, “Promise you’ll stay with me.” 

“Always.” Caracalla brought your knuckles to his lips before letting you go. 

--------------------------------------

The journey to the arena was relatively short. Inside the emperor’s box, the brothers took their seats and were followed in by General Acacius and Lucilla. You watched from the back, observing the pair with keen eyes and a skeptical mind. The two seemed stiff and out of place, their eyes shifting from side to side as though they were about to crawl out of their skin. Pressured to speak, the general stood before the cheering crowd, commanding attention, but something about his words left you feeling ill. The look on his face as he turned around to join his wife was enough to confirm your suspicion. Something was wrong. Long past were the days when Rome’s general was faithful without question to the throne. And now had come the time when enemies were around every corner, to be found most slyly in the people who were meant to be trusted confidantes. 

Commotion filled the arena pulling your attention away from Acacius and Lucilla and permitting you to step into the space between Geta and Caracalla. Chancing a glance at each of them you found Geta’s eyes were already on you, following your approach like a hawk. He raked over your frame, admiring the way the fabric draped over your body, and followed the swell of your chest. Not wanting to risk unwanted attention, you met his gaze for only a moment before turning to engage with Caracalla. A guileless smile turned the corners of his lips as his high-pitched laughter bounced through the air.

Trusting in the power of the gods, you watched with rapt attention as the foreign gladiator made a fool of the man from the emperor’s stables.  Spared by the gods the man tempted fate before ending the fight altogether. Blood pooled beneath the decapitated fighter, painting the sandy ground in a sickening shade of red. 

With the fight over, everyone of note retreated inside where the festivities were sure to continue late into the night. Yet, as you turned to make your way across the room, you noticed the look on Lucilla’s face. She held firmly to the bundle of lavender propped beneath her nose, her face was pale as though the life had been drained from her veins. Her eyes darted from Acacius to the young gladiator that stalked across the sand toward the fighter’s cells. There was a hint of something more there that you failed to place, but it did little to settle your growing suspicions. 

Unable to address it at this moment, you trained your attention back on Caracalla who was chatting away about the fight, retelling the tale to those around him as though they hadn’t just watched it unfold. Stepping into his side, you laced your arm through his, holding tightly to his bicep, and tucked yourself into him. Geta, caught in a conversation with some verbose senator, tracked your movement toward his brother noticing every detail of you. His concern grew stronger as he watched you press your nose into the voluminous material of his brother’s elaborate toga hiding your countenance before pressing onto your toes to whisper in the emperor’s ear. A chaste peck was placed upon his brother’s cheek, earning you a wondrous grin.

Caracalla nodded, before letting you fall away from his side. The young man turned back to the small group that had formed around him and continued his elaborate story. With his blessing, you were free to pick your way through the crowd toward the plethora of wine and food that covered the table at the center of the room. Admiring the choices, you meandered your way from one end to the other sampling every dried fruit and cured meat before settling on a deliciously dark cup of wine. The steady throb in your cheek had you wish for something a bit more potent than alcohol, but alas, that would have to wait. 

Refilling your nearly empty glass, you wandered the space, keeping a keen eye on both Caracalla and Geta. Each remained wrapped in conversation but their demeanors couldn’t be more dissimilar. Where Caracalla continued his lively storytelling, basking in the unwavering attention of his growing entourage, Geta’s face grew increasingly pinched at whatever meaningless drivel the senators believed required the prompt and full attention of him alone. You knew this has become commonplace, the passing over of Caracalla when discussing politics, and yet it rolled your stomach to see it happening so blatantly in public. 

Finished with your lap, you swooped by the table to collect another glass of wine. On a mission to relieve Geta of his trap, you made your way to him, confidently plucking your way through the sea of people. You could feel the burn of jealous and questioning eyes on you. Your presence amongst these circles had become expected long ago and yet it never prevented people from casting judgment upon you. The tender mark upon your face only added fuel to the fire, giving the people exactly what they wanted… more about which to gossip about. 

You closed the last few paces between you and Geta, reveling in the horrified look on the senator's face as you reached for the emperor’s shoulder. Gently, you placed a hand on him, drawing his attention away. “Here, some wine, to fortify your political endeavors.” Ignoring the hanging jaws and scoffs of the other men you carefully handed Geta the drink soaking in the entrancing way his eyes seemed to glow in the light. Their depth fell away to a brighter almost amber hue. But it was not just his gaze that held the knot in your chest, but the emotion that sat heavy in every fiber of his being. 

Desire darkened across his face as he memorized the stillness of your features. Geta’s ringed fingers brushed your own bare skin, taking far longer than was necessary to receive the beverage from you. A distinct cough of indignation erupted from one of the older politicians forcing you to step back. Geta gave a slight nod, silently passing you permission to fall away knowing that he judged you not for wanting to escape the calloused opinions of those he was forced to surround himself with. The swish of your stola accented your departure.  Behind you, the conversation returned in hushed tones, but the swell of the crowd did little to mask the biting words.  

“That woman has grown far to forward with you and your brother, Geta. It appears it may be time to let her go, and replace her with someone more docile… refined. Perhaps now the pair of you should consider proper marriages, for the future of Rome.” The old man’s voice croaked grating into the momentary silence that fell after he finished speaking.

With your back turned to Geta you were unable to see the vicious sneer that came over the emperor’s face. Far enough away now, his words were lost to the crowd in which you disappeared. Only the need to maintain peace for your sake kept him from exploding. A deep breath filled his chest and shook through his nose as he tested the surety of his voice. “That woman belongs to my brother, and to m- to the household. Her actions are neither unexpected nor uncouth. And may I suggest senator, that you keep her out of your filthy whoring mouth or you may find your own midnight wanderings publicized for all to discuss. Am I clear?” 

“Yes.” The older man murmured. His eyes dropped to the ground, uncertain of how to proceed. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I believe there are others far more worthy of my time to which I must attend.” Geta bowed out hastily, the venom in his voice dripped from every word keeping the other tongues silent. 

Heavy footfalls pounded across the stone toward you, following your path away from the crowd in search of temporary solitude. Nearing a quiet alcove, you pressed yourself into the chill of the marble. Exhausted and aching, you felt your legs tremble, forcing you to slump down upon the unforgiving bench that lined the wall. The distant rumbling of the crowd was accented by the approach of another. Unsure of what to say, you let your eyes fall shut, keeping out the world around you, and perhaps buying you some time to come to grips with your thoughts. 

The steps slowed, and yet you didn’t bother to open your eyes. “You mustn’t listen to them. They are feeble-minded old men. They matter matter not.” Geta spoke, hoping you would look at him. 

Concern masked as anger flashed hot over your nerves, forcing you to stand and crowd into his space. Your open palms found his chest, shoving his sturdy frame away as you worked to control your volume. “You cannot say those things, Geta. You need them, whether you care for that reality or not. Without the Senate, Rome is nothing. In a heartbeat, they have you and your brother deposed. There are snakes in the water, Geta. Do not let your loose tongue be what brings about your ruin!” 

Geta’s hand came to hold your wrists in place against him, the feeling of your touch the only thing that kept him from giving into the dizzying spin of his head. “What are you saying?! You of all people-” 

“I’m saying take great care with what you say and to whom you say. There are those within your inner circle who wish to see you and Caracalla fall, no matter how that happens. The ends would justify the means in their eyes. The senators are only part of your problem.” You choked on the end of your confession, the reality heavy in your chest. 

Geta’s hold on you changed. One hand skimmed along your curves finding home at the nip of your waist while the other cupped your injured cheek, tipping your face to his. “Do not be afraid. Tell me what you know.”  

“I’m not afraid, not for myself. But for you and Caracalla… that is an entirely different story. And as far as what I know... it is nothing, it has to be nothing. Just my anxious mind getting the better of me.” 

“Do not keep this inside, it will only eat away at you.” He spoke deeply, understanding the truth behind what he’d spoken despite often leaving this advice alone for himself. 

“You expect more of me than of yourself when it comes to honesty.” Lingering frustration gave way to weariness. Struggling to keep yourself together, you rested your brow against Geta's chest. The silk of his clothing soothed your nerves. Held carefully in his arms, you could feel the feather-light touch of his lips as he kissed your temple.

“Nothing gets past you.” A soft smile wrapped around his words. Pressed together in the relative seclusion you'd managed to find, Geta inhaled the warm scent of wine and perfume that swirled around you. The beautiful bouquet went to his head, adding to the hazy buzz he cultivated through a touch too much to drink.

"Pay no mind to the anxious ramblings of a palace whore. I know little of what I fear. I should never have voiced my concern, it is not my place. Forgive me." You kept your face buried in the elaborate folds of his toga, letting the sturdiness of him continue to calm your body.

"Do not call yourself that." Geta leaned back, forcing you to look at him. Tenderly, he held your face, taking extra care to avoid your wound. "You are not. You never have been."

"No, I am. They are right. A real marriage. A wife… children… a son to bear the family name. That is what you both need. What you deserve."

"You are avoiding your worry. Deflecting. You may speak freely with me, you know this. There are no others here to judge or condemn. You have my ear and my heart." Geta captured your mouth with his, earning him the ghost of a whimper. Breaking away before things could escalate, he waited patiently for your response. "Now tell me what you fear so that I may carry that burden with you."

"I will not speak of it here. Not where prying eyes and ears shift all around. I know the palace is no better when it comes to the fiery spread of rumors and lies, but this place… it thrives on blood. It screams for it. It makes me ill. Not here. Meet me tonight, at the baths. I promise… I will share everything."

You reached for Geta, needing to feel him close once more. Slotting your lips together, you felt the fine strands of his hair between your fingers.

"Tonight." He mumbled against your lips.

[nonranghaes]

heads up: this is longer than what i usually post here. oops.

this... is not how the story is supposed to go. your head is pounding when you wake up, body slumped slightly forward save for the way you've been bound to the chair you were thrown into. you blink a few times, brows drawing together as you lift your head. when did you get here...? one minute you were escaping up into this tower, the next...

fuck. where's your satchel? you gasp, immediately trying to pull one of your arms free. what the hell is this--hair? "shit. shit, shit, shit--"

"struggling..." a voice calls out, faltering just a bit, and you freeze. "struggling is pointless."

... fuck, what did you get into this time? the kingdom's already after your head and, with your luck, they're probably on their way to haul you off into a cell for the rest of your life. you can hear the sound of someone climbing down, and can make out the frame of that same person standing in the shadows.

"i'm not afraid of you. so... who are you?" he speaks again, slowly making his way forward. "and how did you find me?"

... huh? "sorry?" you furrow your brows. "i don't--"

"i said--" he steps into the light, and you're met with the pretty face of a young man... and the owner of the hair you're currently, literally, in. "who are you," he grips an iron pan in one hand like a weapon, and he looks like he could kill if he had to (then again, you think most people are like that when they see you nowadays), "and how did you find me?"

for a moment, you think you've seen his face before. a passing moment, nothing serious, but the feeling fades all too quickly. "look, buddy--"

"jeonghan." he spits his name at you, but there's a playfulness in his eyes as he makes his way over to you, lightly poking you with the pan. "you're the one tied up right now. you should respect me, hm?"

"look, jeonghan," you say, "i don't know who you are. i don't even want to be here. i just want to leave you alone, alright?" you tug again at the restrains. since when was hair this strong...? "you let me go, give me my bag, and i'll get out of your hair."

he crosses his arms, sizing you up. "i don't think so."

shutting your eyes, you try to gather some sort of patience. you don't have time for this. that fucking horse is probably sniffing you out right now. "i mean it! thought this place was abandoned, and, uh," you put on the most charming smile you can as you look at him, "didn't expect a handsome fella like you to be here--my bad, truly--but i've got places to be that aren't here."

that playfulness disappears in his eyes as he studies you. "... you really don't want my hair, then?"

"with all due respect, why the fuck would i want your hair?"

jeonghan eyes you suspiciously, and makes his way over to a different wall behind you. "no reason. how about we make a deal?"

you can hear the sound of him climbing behind you, and then the harsh tug of his impossibly long hair sends your chair spinning until you've hit the floor with a grunt. with a little struggling, you manage to peer up to where he's pulling back a curtain, revealing a mural of the lantern festival the kingdom does every year for the lost prince.

he nodes toward it. "you know what these are?"

"who doesn't?" you push as hard as you can just to get your weight off of your face and neck, and manage to get the chair sideways. "floating lantern thing. king and queen do it every year. think it's tomorrow." you pause for a moment. "... was that the deal? i answer your question and you let me go?"

his brows lift, and he's genuinely delighted with your initial response. he rushes down to you, already pushing your chair up so that he can be face to face with you. "the deal is," he presses the end of the pan against your chest, "you take me to go see those things and bring me back home... and then i'll give you your satchel back."

"... uh. no." you eye him suspiciously. does this guy... not have any idea who you are? waltzing back into the kingdom now would be a death sentence for you, especially with your name on one third of the wanted posters out there. "just go by yourself."

jeonghan's smile falls, and he crosses his arms. "so you don't want your bag? you'll never find it without me." he strolls away from you, looking out the nearby window. "it might not even be here next time you wake up..."

shit. he's too serious to not mean it. you've risked everything to steal that crown, including trusting two idiots that are probably also planning your death right about now. "that's it?" you turn your face as best as you can see him. "lights show and then home. that's all you want?"

he smiles at you. "is there something i should add?"

fine. if pretty man wants a road trip... then you can give him a road trip. "then it's a deal."

another tug of his hair sends your chair spinning around. to your surprise, you don't hit the floor: jeonghan's hand catches the back of it as he grins at you. "it's a pleasure doing business with you, then."

[seaslugfanclub]

Heyyy !!! Love your writtings and drawings !! You Rock !! And I was really curious about your thoughts on Y/N and Ratigan's relationship! Like how Ratigan grew to like them and all- I have a funny headbanging that the park Attendant managed to save him from Lucifer the cat one time XD

Ratigan and (Y/N)’s First Introduction

————————————————————————

Being in the Disney parks is overwhelming enough, but try being less than a foot tall.

Oh sure, Disney can bring all of these fictional characters to reality, but guess it was too much work for them to size up the smaller characters!

Ratigan is not having a good time. Just like his entire life, he’s had to fight tooth and nail for even a modicum of respect. Now he has to fight even harder to get a room to himself.

Disney didn’t think that far ahead about having a rodent sized villain living amongst the others. For the first few weeks of Ratigan new existence, he had to rely on his extensive talents in order to carve out a small space for himself in the villains breakout room

Oh, how humiliating it was to sleep behind a wall socket like some common vermin!!

And the food situation! It’s nearly impossible to get access to the fridge, and the cabinets have nothing that could even begin to match his expensive tastes.

Not to mention the other villains less than stellar reactions to seeing a ra- ahem- a mouse in their living area

Most of the female villains would screech at the sight of him, jumping onto chairs and demanding for the male villains to kill him.

Yes… it certainly hasn’t been all champagne and caviar…

Ratigans new life only began to improve after his less than respectable meeting with the park attendant (Y/N)

————————————————————————

“(Y/N).”

The park attendant wiped off their brow, setting down a box full of spare costumes to turn towards the intimidating woman in the doorway.

“Oh, good afternoon Lady Tremaine. How’re you doing?”

Tremaine didn’t bother with the pleasantries,

“I have not seen Lucifer since breakfast. Would you have any idea where the little creature is?”

(Y/N) shook their head, “No, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Well I have matters to attend to soon, and I need Lucifer with me. Find him.”

With nothing but a small grimace, Lady Tremaine left, her shoes tapping sharply against the linoleum tiles of the hallway.

“…..ok…”

(Y/N) shuffled in place for a moment, beginning to think of the cats usual whereabouts.

————————————————————————

“Luci!! C’mon baby! *pst pst pst*

(Y/N) shook a bag of Lucifer’s dry food, hoping the sound would lure the chunky cat out of hiding.

They had been searching for a good 15 minutes without any sign of the feline, and (Y/N) was beginning to feel an anxious flutter in their chest.

Turning up empty handed to Lady Tremaine was not an option.

(Y/N)’s search had lead them to a quieter wing of the villains building, this area mainly being used for storage and management meetings. The park attendant stopped for a moment, hoping to hear the sound of little paws, before going back to shaking the dry food.

“*pst pst pst pst pst* C’mon Luci, your mama’s looking for—” (Y/N) paused, faint scuffling could be heard further down the hall.

Finally!

(Y/N) followed the sound, approaching one of the storage rooms at the end of the hallway, but the closer they got to the scuffling, something else could be heard.

….Yelling?

The door was already slightly ajar when (Y/N) fully pushed their way into the room, causing two pairs of eyes to meet them.

In the back of the room, amongst filing cabinets and schedules of years past was Lady Tremaine’s cat, Lucifer, who’s claws were primed and at the ready… and the heaving body of Professor Ratigan pressed into a corner.

From the look on both of their faces, (Y/N) walked in on something intense, although Lucifer’s expression was one of disappointment while the professors was one of quiet relief.

“LUCIFER—The hell are you doing!?!!! Go, your mama’s been looking for you!” (Y/N) yelled at the cat, who seemed physically pained to leave the rodent alone. Reluctantly, Lucifer trudged pass the park attendant, who was still admonishing him.

“Like you’re not fed enough! What, Where you dropped as a kitten!?”

Once (Y/N) saw Lucifer’s tail disappear around the corner, they immediately turned their attention towards the still cornered Ratigan.

“Professor, are you alright!? I am so. sorry.”

They dropped the bag of cat food to rush towards the rodent, slamming down onto their knees as their eyes flitted over Ratigans form.

His chest was rapidly going up and down, Ratigan obviously still trying to catch his breath. His usually slicked back hair was now falling in front of his face as he stared up at (Y/N).

He seems frazzled, but thankfully free of any scratches or missing appendages.

“…alright?” Ratigan heaved after a few moments of silence, “You asked if I’m alright? OH YOU MENTALLY DEFECTIVE WRETCH, HOW ON EARTH COULD I EVER BE A L R I G H T???”

(Y/N) flinched at the sudden increase of volume, staring down at the now manic looking rodent in shock.

“Ever since I’ve been brought to this demented park, I’ve been nothing but humiliated and scorned! Forced to fend for myself like the common vermin because YOU PEOPLE didn’t have an iota of sense that taking me from the grave would cause me to live amongst GIANTS”

Ratigan began pacing, his eyes wild as he continued,

“I have had to scrounge and scrap to continue this miserable existence, reduced to living off of stale crackers and tap water, to lay my head beneath electrical wires. I’ve been forced to scavenge in these back rooms for supplies since every employee runs off at the sight of me before I can even open my mouth for the simplest of requests. Oh! And let’s not forget me being preyed upon by that devil in feline form! I’ve been hunted by that beast for the past few hours, nearly meeting my second demise! Left alone to die like a cretin, like I’m NOTHING. DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHO I AM? DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHO I USED TO BE? I HAVE NOTHING NOW. NOTHING.”

Finally his tiny body gave out, Ratigan collapsing to the carpet dramatically, arm covering his eyes.

“Oh…I’d have been better off a bloated corpse in the Thames.”

(Y/N) couldn’t find any words, watching helplessly as Ratigan sprawled across the floor. Their throat felt tight.

They’d only been hired several months ago, and they’ve only just begun getting along with a few Villains. (Y/N) rarely saw Professor Ratigan, and when they did they reasoned that he had the same provisions that the other smaller Disney rodents had.

When (Y/N) first arrived, they got to meet Ms. Bianca and Mr. Bernard in front of their tiny apartment styled home, which was built into one of the walls of the Disney Protagonist’s building. During the quick introduction, it seemed that the company had thought of everything the couple could’ve needed.

Guess the same quality of service didn’t apply to villains…

(Y/N) sat in silence for a few minutes, allowing Ratigans words to fully sink in, before finally speaking up.

“I didn’t— …..I’m sorry.”

Ratigan didn’t lift his arm from his eyes, “Please. Spare me your pity, human.”

“Oh please, don’t start with that— I’m sorry that you’ve been screwed over, I wasn’t aware that the company’s been this irresponsible.”

Slowly, (Y/N) reached out their hand, palm open in offering,

“I’m still pretty new here, but I think I’ve got a way to pull a few strings…”

Finally lifting his arm, Ratigan looked up at the park attendant. The scent of their sincerity almost nauseating, but what else did he have to lose?

Taking (Y/N)s palm as an invitation, he lifted himself off the carpet and onto (Y/N)s hand.

Oh, how low he’s stooped.

————————————————————————

Turns out (Y/N)’s “few strings” was the one of the villains that they had managed to befriend. With Ratigan in hand, (Y/N) went all the way to the other side of the building to the villains lounge, where they explained the professors dilemma to a very confused Hades, asking for his help.

As distrustful as Ratigan was around humans, he could appreciate this park attendants persuasiveness through subtle manipulation and use of accumulated favors.

Hades, who’s always been a fan of things creepy and crawly, (and also wanted to earn some brownie points with (Y/N) ) agreed to help their little charity case

Half an hour later Ratigan still sat in (Y/N)’s hands, looking up at the now nervous park attendant as they fidgeted in place, staring at the door of their managers office.

After a few minutes and some smoke leaking from underneath the doorway, a very pleased Hades opened the door. The god strolled up to (Y/N), patting them on the back and commenting how “he warmed him up for you” and was about to leave before acknowledging Ratigan in their palm.

“Ya’ better be grateful, tiny. You’ve found the only person in this park who gives a shit about you.”

Just as Ratigan was about to demand an explanation on what (Y/N) was planning, the park attendant strode into the office. Where the pair met eyes with a very pale manager.

The previous anxiousness on (Y/N)s face instantly melted into professionalism, introducing themselves, then placed Ratigan on the managers desk and asking him to share his current quality of life with the sweating man before him.

One slightly confused but melodramatic explanation later, (Y/N) went on to say how “disturbing” it was to see this type of mistreatment in a company who had bragged about the quality of their intellectual properties well being, and that it would be “unfortunate if word about Disneys beloved characters being mistreated got out to the general public, especially those protesting Disneys new holographic AI.”

(Y/N) went on to virtually demand that the company recorrect this oversight, and give Ratigan a fully furnished living space and amenity’s just like the other mice in the park.

The office was dead silent once (Y/N) had finished speaking.

The manager dabbed the sweat from his forehead, cleared his throat, and nodded. The pasty man tried to come up with excuses for the company before conceding, agreeing with (Y/N)s “request” and apologizing to Ratigan, who for once in his life was speechless.

(Y/N) and Ratigan left the managers office with the promise of Ratigans new home being fully constructed within two months, and full permission to take any food/ rodent sized items from the protagonists building.

Ratigan, who was still dazed with the sudden change of luck, was dropped off in the Villains lounge. (Y/N) promising to pick up some fresh food and maybe a rodents sized bed from the “good guys place” before running out of the room.

It wouldn’t be until months later that he’d fully express his gratitude…. But for now, he admitted , he is lucky that he found the one person in this park who gave a shit him.

———————————————————————

Hope this answers your request! I thought it’s be nice to learn how Ratigan and (Y/N) first met!

I’ll definitely make another post about their friendship and more fluff, but how could I resist writing some angst? 😭

[davidlikebowie-noturaccountant]

okay this is fully rushed and just the first part because i’m sleepy tired but

i wasn’t TOTALLY sure if the au was meant to be like neil still tries and fails or what but that was how i read it and so the following also tw for references to suicide (canon compliant)

anyway there will probs be a part two… tomorrow? idk but i hope u like it op (i may have accidentally made it less of a silly goofy au and more of too much internal serious reflection whoopsies)

When Neil comes to, it’s in a sterile room. Bleak, white light filters in from the open door, and he is…… completely alone. It’s silent, save for the intermittent beeping of the machines, and everything hurts. For a moment, a blessed, easy moment, he can’t remember where he is, or why he’s there. And then it all comes crashing back, a 12-foot wave of pain, guilt, and regret. Then the heavy sadness. It didn’t work. He’s trapped. God fucking damn it, can he do anything right?

In the drawing-room, Tom and Eleanor are sitting by the phone, quiet. Grief had washed away the anger that stood staunch in that room only days before, and uncertainty continued to pool in them. And then they got the phone call. It felt like a miracle. Eleanor had fallen into Tom, crying, once again, but for the first time in ages, the tears were those of relief. Their family was going to be okay. They could heal from this.

The months that followed were hard. The hardest they’d ever had to reckon with. Neil, somehow, blessedly, escaped without lasting damage to his brain. When he was left alone for any longer than a moment, it weighed on him. When he had gone into the study that night, he had felt… steady. Sure. More sure than he’d been in a while. Resolute. And– in the wake of that– to find out he’d been foiled by a shaky hand, it felt like a cruel slap to the face. As time wore on, he tried hard to find the lust for life he’d briefly gotten his hands on, but his parents had deliberated, they’d decided to send him away, and they only told the school he’d- nothing after. And send him away they did, somewhere where he couldn’t make long-distance calls, and any calls he would have tried to make were long-distance. He was completely cut off from the person he used to be, and the people who had made him that person. Total isolation. He barely heard from his parents, save the occasional letter reminding him of the expectations they had. Forget lust for life, he hardly had it in him to resist. He was back to square one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At 32, Neil felt as if he stopped needing to adjust to things, or maybe he only just realised it. Suburban New Jersey was both exactly like Vermont and a far, far cry from it. He rarely let himself think about Vermont, though. The person he was before he went to military school in Scotland. Before what he only lets himself refer to as “The Incident.”

He’s a far cry from that person now. Dwelling on it only serves to make him sad. So, he settles into his new routine, and for a while, he forces himself, pointedly, not to think about how close he is to Vermont. Then, as time continues to pass, that becomes routine too. Suppressed without him having to think about it. He finds, in time, that he likes the bustle of the hospital. There’s no time for him to think past his cases. Saves him from himself some days.

The pager on his belt beeps, and he sees the code on the little screen. The one which means he has a new patient. And he steps back into the routine, going to the emergency room to do his job. One foot in front of the other. He has to remind himself sometimes not to mourn. He did his time, he felt his grief. Even 16 years later, it tries to get on top of him. But, his job keeps it at bay. Occupies his mind. Most days, he can hardly remember he used to be a different person. Some days he feels it brewing, just under the surface of his attention. It doesn’t get on top of him though. Never.

So, when he pulls the curtain back, clipboard in hand, his mind is blessedly empty, his gait is sure, and he doesn’t think twice about only skimming the chart he was handed for symptoms. Usually, he just takes the patient history himself. So, he walks in, as secure as he can be, doing the job he knows he’s good at.

He knows the EMTs had to resuscitate. From the beeping, he can tell that the pulse is still thready. But there. He knows the basics from his perfunctory skim of the chart. Overdose, patient’s pulse was lost for 3 seconds while unresponsive. This seems fairly easy, comparatively. He knows what to do. He’s well trained. He’s secure in his knowledge. Resolute.

And then he looks up from his clipboard.

It’s amazing how much 16 years can change a person. Features age, the angles of youth soften. But there are some things about a person that don’t change. A laugh, a smile.

Big blue eyes.

There are some things about a person you can never forget. He glances down at his chart. And there it is, the thing he didn’t read, in the same swoopy handwriting he remembered from- then.

Todd Anderson.

Fuck.

after seeing clips from tape and house I can only think of an anderperry au where Neil doesn’t die, but gets sent away and becomes a doctor. The next time he and Todd meet? Todd overdosed. You just have to hear me out for this one:

“Neil! We all thought you died!”

“Well I didn’t. You though? You did. Legally. For three whole seconds. Todd what the fuck?”

[flowery-laser-blasts]

STRANGE MAGIC DRAKGO AU

First of all thank you @cocoa-night for letting me know the name of this movie. I saw a snippit of Dawn and Bog a few months back on instagram but I couldn't find the title. The second I watch this? BAM! I'm instantaneously sucked into the whole story. I don't care if people say it's a bad movie or cringe, it makes me happy.

This is a lot so if you're interested in the AU...

Designing these two in the style of the movie proved to be very difficult in the end. I'm still very unsure about these colours and details since it became pretty busy, however, I have left it as is for now and maybe in the future I might redesign it! I thought it was important to implement a bit of each other's colours in their outfits. A bit of blue in Shego's green Rajah butterfly wings and I wanted to capture the green reflection of the Scarab in Drakken's outfit, but the show's style rarely shows very shiny objects so I ended up with green accents in the collar and ends of gloves and boots. Note that these designs change a LOT in my sketches because I'm more 'free' with drawing and don't fully stick to things unless I fully render out things.

THE STORY: It basically follows the same storybeats as the movie but with some added lore I made of my own. Please don't expect a fully written fanfic. This is somewhat inbetween rough notes and script.

Kimberly, the Princess of the Faerie Kingdom, has been preparing to take her place on the throne ever since the day she was born. Under the strict eyes of Miss Go, her Governess, Kim has been leading up to the most important day of her life: choosing her husband and future King of Faeries at the Spring dance. However, Kim has other plans. During lunch periods Miss Go and Kim would often take a stroll in the Castlegarden, where she would listen to her Governess' past adventures as Shego; adventurer, world explorer, kick-ass Faerie extraordinaire. "Whatever would make you quit that exciting life and be stuck in this place?" "Well, for starters: having a roof above my head and three meals a day is nice. A warm bed--" "You've become soft haven't you?" "Do you want extra homework Kimberly?" "No ma'am." "That's what I thought. Let's get back inside. It's almost time for your dance practice." Kimberly never received a 'real' answer to her question but something must've happened in Miss Go's past... Right?

"Sooo... the spring dance huh." "What's with that?" "Oh just... You having to choose a partner for life, that's uh- That's a big deal, huh?" "Yeah, no. I don't think so." "What?" "I'm not going Ron. I am so done with this boring castle! I want adventure! I want to see the things Miss Go has seen!" "Danger, homelessness and poverty?" "The WORLD RON!" "I mean... I guess--" "All I have to do is distract Miss Go long enough during the dance and I can finally be free!" "That woman is like a bloodhound... Unlike Bonnie. Man, I tell you Kiki. I've seen ladybugs in love but that girl has it bad! I passed by her today and she didn't even comment on my 'fashion sense' like usually, all because Brick was weeding the farm!" "Wait, Ron. Rewind; What did you say?" "My fashion sense, you know, my pants and shirt never match--" "No before that!" "Ladybugs in love?" "That's it Ron! Love makes blind, maybe blind enough for us to run away!" "I mean, I don't think I've ever seen Miss Go show any emotion other than anger-- wait 'us'?" "Well, duh, of course! You and me together Ron. You're my best friend since forever! Besides Miss Go may act cold on the outside, deep down I know she has a warm heart." "Well if you say so... But what guy would be brave enough to even try greeting her?" "Easy, general Barkin. You tell him that Miss Go has a crush on him!" "But she doesn't???" "Easy Ron: Love potion... now here's the plan." And thus Kimberly's plan, after Ronald wrote it down on a piece of parchment, was put in action: - Step 1. Get General Barkin to go for Miss Go. (Maybe they even fall in love right? That way we don't need a love potion to begin with!! Right!??! I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE DARK FOREST! MOM TOLD ME I SHOULD NEVER GO THERE!) - Step 2. If General Barkin's persistence doesn't work: Love potion. Kim said that we could get some from the Sugarplum Faerie, but I heard that she's just a legend but you know how Kim is; she's headstrong. I love her for that but this is a bit dangerous, isn't it? I'm not going to let her go by herself though! She says she's found old documents in the archives of the castle, but are those even real? What if it's just a tale?? - Step 3. Put some of the love potion in Miss Go's tea? Food? How does this even work! I've never seen it in real life! Can you overdose on it? Argh Kiki why are you doing this to me!!

"Wh-what? The Dark forest?! Miss Go, we all know that no one is--" "I'm joking Princess. Of course I'll come to the dance. Someone has to make sure that you find the right man to marry. The kingdom's fate is at stake." The night before the Spring Dance, Kimberly and Ronald met at the edge of the kingdom, ready to go into the unknown of the dark forest.

"You got all the ingredients Ron?" "Boy do I! It took me a few hours but I found everything we need for a love potion!" "Spankin! Alright, all we've got to do now is get to the middle of the Dark Forest and then in the Kobold King's cast--" "K-k-k-k-k KOBOLD KING? KIMBERLY, THIS WON'T END WELL. I THOUGHT- YOU KNOW, SUGAR PLUM JUST DIDN'T WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN SOCIETY ANYMORE AND STARTED LIVING IN THE DARK FOREST... IN A COZY COTTAGE... THAT WE CAN WALK INTO FOR A VISIT? MAYBE GET SOME COOKIES?" "Ron, please. I need you to be serious and focus. Tell me: Are you in or not? I won't be mad at you if you want to go back, but I need to know now." "...I--" Ronald took a deep breath. "Yes, of course I am." "Thank you Ron."

Once in the forest, Kimberly and Ronald snuck around. They evaded giant centipedes and weird looking frogs. Luckily for the duo, they found the way to the Kobold King's Castle with the help of a chipper cockroach that tried to get Ronald's roadtrip snacks. Meanwhile in the castle, King Drakken was having an argument with his mother who, once again, brought in a suitor for her son. "Mother for the SO MANIETH TIME. I. DO NOT. WANT. TO GET HOOKED UP WITH A TOTAL STRANGER!!!" "WELL YOU NEVER LEAVE THIS CASTLE EITHER. IF YOU'RE NOT OUT THERE LOOKING FOR A GIRL, HOW DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO FIND YOU, HMM? I'M GETTING OLDER DREW, I DON'T WANT YOU TO WITHER AWAY LIKE A SHRIVELED UP WALLFLOWER AFTER I'M GONE" "Mother, that won't happen--" "FOURTY YEARS, DREW, FOR FOURTY YEARS I TOOK CARE OF YOU, RAISED YOU WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS AND WHAT DO I GET AS THANKS? A GRUMPY GROUCH THAT DOESN'T WANT TO GIVE HIS MOTHER ANY GRANDCHILDREN." "Oh for the love of--, if you want to take care of something: get a pet!! Love is just an obstacle if you look at the bigger picture." Drakken waved his mother off as his two minions, Fissi and Killi, ran in; telling him about the spies that sneaked into the forest.

Kimberly and Ronald managed to break into the dungeon and found the Sugarplum Faerie. After they got the love potion, they helped Sugarplum to escape but because of her very, very loud singing, the Kobold King arrived. "What do we have here? Two nimwits tresspassing my domain!?" "HEY! DON'T CALL THE PRINCESS OF THE FAERIES A NIMWITT-- Oops.." "RON!" "GIVE ME THAT POTION!" Ronald struggled against the grasp of the King. "KIKI, CATCH!" Ronald thew the flask of love potion in the hopes that the princess would catch it. However as she dove towards it, it broke onto the dungeon floor. The impact caused half of the potion to splash onto Kimberly's face. Enraged, the King tossed Ronald aside and ordered Fissi and Killi to cleanup the mess before more damage could be done. Kimberly's eyes unfortunately fell upon the tyrant's face "AND AS FOR YOU PRINCESS-- why, are you looking at me like that?" IMPORTANT NOTE: FOR THIS AU TO WORK, PLEASE BE MINDFUL THAT I SEE THIS AS A TEENAGE GIRL CRUSHING ON/FALLING FOR A FAMOUS CELEBRITY AND IT'S COMPLETELY ONESIDED, LIKE IN THE MOVIE. I DO NOT SHIP KIM AND DRAKKEN. Anyway, Drakken gets the absolute creeps and locks both Kimberly and Ronald up in each a seperate cell. The King was determined to make an antidote but had to admit; this accidental fiasco proved to be bountiful. With the princess as a hostage, Drakken would have the upper hand in demanding that the Faeries would surrender their kingdom to him as an expansion of the dark forest. This was almost too good to be true! Drakken told a few of his soldiers to go to the King of the Faeries and let his demands be known: Hand over the Faerie Kingdom if you ever want to see your daughter back, alive. Luckily for Drakken, Kimberly was very helpfull in gossiping about the kingdom... maybe a bit too much. Soon enough he had too much information. He didn't want to hear endless tales about, for example: Hank, the royal baker, who's cupcakes were the buzz of the town.

From the moment she got up until lunch time, Miss Go managed to evade General Barkin's advances as she made her way to Kimberly's quarters. As expected, she didn't find her there. Going to all of Kim's regular spots, she noticed a crumpled up parchment… Ronald's notes. "Those brats… When I get my hands on them--!!! I might need to find a new job." Miss Go set out to get to the Castle of the Kobold King, hours before his army arrived at the border of the Faerie Kingdom... From this point on, I'll refer her back to Shego as we're outside of the kingdom.

Drakken was going over his plan of attack as Shego crashed into the King's throne room, causing him to shriek and hide behind his desk. "Alright, cough up. Where's Princess Kimberly." "I could take you to her... If you surrender yourself to me, wench." "Fat chance dungbeetle." "HNG! WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!?" "Get that mulch out of your ear, saves people time in repeating themselves!"

Drakken and Shego fought tooth and nail until both of them were out of breath. That's when they noticed a familair voice. "Not again... It's been HOURS!" "Is that?" "I told her to stop talking about the castle... So she started singing instead." "Did she." "Love potion? Yes." "Oh no." Drakken sighed, "Come along... watch your step."

"YOU ARE A SICK, SICK MAN!" "WHAT?! THIS IT ISN'T MY FAULT!! THAT BUFFOON PRACTICALLY AIMED THAT LOVE POTION STRAIGHT THAT GIRL'S HEAD" "YOU'RE STILL TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THE SITUATION" "I'M WORKING ON AN ANTIDOTE IN THE MEANTIME!" "How long until it is done?"

Drakken and Shego spoke to the Sugarplum Faerie who gave Fissi and Killi a list of ingredients to gather. Meanwhile they went upstairs along wtih Drakken's mother to see the dininghall decorated in red hearts and all that hoopla.

"I have nothing to do with this." Shego looked him up and down, "Yeah, I can tell." "I don't know whether to take that as an insult or not." She shrugged. "Take it however you want it."

Hours passed and eventually both Drakken and Shego lost their patience. Both of them demanded to know the status of the antidote. Sugarplum told them that the antidote was inside the dungeon all along. "WHAT!? WELL WHAT IS IT?!" "YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS!" "Well what is it??" Sugarplum smirked and started to play out the tragic lovestory of the lovesick King who tried to forcefully win over the heart of a lake creature who was, unbeknownst to him, already in love with another.

"Ha...hahaha." "What's so funny Kobalt King?" "Even with that love potion, I am just too hideous to love, aren't I?" Shego felt a bit of empathy towards the King. He probably didn't notice it himself, but the few moments when the moon shone onto him through cracks of the darkened castle, he would faintly glow in a beautiful, almost mesmerizing azure blue shine. It almost made his wings and exoskeleton look like a finely polished gem. "ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO WHAT I AM SAYING?" Sugarplum's yelling snapped Shego out of her thoughts. Thinking about the story, Shego realised something: "Wait, do you mean that... urgh... 'true love' is the cure to all of this?" "Bingo! A love potion is fake, nothing about it is real. But true love, nothing can break that bond!" "...and 'in the dungeon'... Ronald! Argh!! Those two kids--" "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!" "You locked me up and blamed all your misfortune on me! I tried to warn you but you NEVER LISTEN!" "Fissi, Killi.. Just... Just take her away and let that brat-- I mean; Let Ronald into Kimberly's cell. He might be able to wake her up from her delusional state." Drakken's henchmen took the Sugarplum Faerie and left the room. Shego turned to follow Fissi and Killi but hesitated at the door. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the King standing near the window. She took a deep sigh and walked over.

"Wowwww... you.... uhhhh... You planning on blowing this whole thing off?" "Hm? Yeah. Guess you can call this a revelation, I suppose." "What do you mean?" "This whole 'wanting to take over everything'. I guess I did it because I wanted to become powerful. All these years I wanted to hold power over those who have wronged me in the past and to show sweet, beautiful Amy that I could be worthy of her love. I now realise that I just felt lost. I wanted to control everything but--" "But you can't control everything. Sometimes you just need to let go and focus on yourself. Trust me, I know everything about that. My older brother? Total control freak that hovered over all of my siblings and I. That's why I left home." "It suffocated you... That must've been a difficult decision to take for you..." "Yeah..." "Sooo... Now you are a babysitter for the Faerie Kingdom's Princess." "Governess. I saw the world for a while and after that I grew a bit bored. I wanted something more stable so... teaching. It used to be my passion. But soon Kimmie will be engaged, married and then I'll move onto the next thing." "Well, if you need a place to crash. I can keep a cell warm in my dungeon for you." The both of them laughed. "Come let's stretch our wings." "Great idea!"

The two of them flew out of the castle into the night sky and passed by all sorts of folliage and creatures until Drakken dove into a large bramble.

They enjoyed the flight and most of all; each other's company. That was until Drakken noticed the Faerie Kingdom's army. "Uh-oh... I... forgot about that." "Urgh. Just-- Just wait here. I'll go talk to them. They might shoot you on sight." "Nothing I can't handle... But I might-- er... Go check on Princess Kimberly and Ronald. If you hear singing--" "I'll stall time." Shego took off "Wait!" "Hm?" "...Be careful. That's all."

Drakken got to the dungeon via it's secret entrance and found Ronald and Kimberly, holding each other in an embrace and outside of her cell. "AH GOOD! Great to see you are back to normal... Right?" Kimberly looked over, startled at first and then cringed, remembering everything she did. "Yup!SureAm!Let'sGoRon.HaveYouSeenMissGo?" "She's at the entrance. Come with me before things escalate any further." The three of them ran up the stairs. "Let me get this straight: You're a good guy now?" "I wouldn't necessarily say that, but in this case: sure." "What changed?" "What do you mean?" "Well you went from "I AM GOING TO TAKE OVER THE FAERIE KINGDOM!" to "I'm letting both of you go." What changed? Why don't you want to take it over anymore?" "I suppose that controlling others isn't truly what I want." "What do you want?" "... I think--" "Ron this is so not the time to become a therapist." Kimberly interjected as she pointed out the massive Faerie army with at the front General Barkin.

"For the last time General. I am NOT your ANYTHING." "But-- But Miss Go. What we have--" "Nothing. NO-THING." "That damned monster has brainwashed you hasn't he?! I heard the tales about him kidnapping Sugarplum for his selfish reasons!!" Drakken felt a surge of anger coming over him as he dove headfirst towards Barkin. "I AM NOT BRAINWASHING HER. IF SHE SAYS NO, THE ANSWER IS NO. DON'T YOU DARE TO DECIDE WHAT'S BEST FOR HER!!" The two fought, which gave a misunderstood 'signal' to their allies to charge into battle. Shego grabbed Kimberly and Ronald, moving them out of harms way before looking for Drakken and Barkin.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a faint blue shimer in the light of the sunrise. The Kobold King was backed into a corner and with General Barkin's sword at his throat, he admited defeat. "My Hero!" Shego squealed out in joy. "Miss Go! You've broken free from this despicable creature's spell!" Barkin practically tossed away his sword, spreading his arms to receive, what he thought was, a warm embrace from his green Faerie in distress; instead, he received a sucker punch that send him straight into the chasm mere meters away from her and Drakken. "That was terrifying." "You almost dying?" "Your acting." Drakken and Kimberly called off both of the armies. Telling the full story, though excluding some embarassing details for everyone's sake. The Faerie army retreated, turning around to head back towards the Faerie Kingdom, leaving the Kobold King, the Governess, Princess Kimberly and Ronald to part their ways.

"I'm glad that everything got resolved in the end. See Kim? We don't need a love potion!" "That reminds me, why did you want that love potion? Weren't you two already, well, you know... On the right track?" "Oh it wasn't for Kim! It was for mhmpfff--" Kim quickly covered Ron's mouth with her hand, turning beetred. "Kimmie..." Shego crossed her arms looking at the Princess. Kim sighed.

"I want to see the world. Just like you did! I don't want to marry some random guy just so I could rule the kingdom." "You are still young," Shego smiled and brushed Kimberly's redhair behind her ear, which reminded her of her own mother. "you can see the world in due time. You will marry once you're ready and I'm pretty sure you've already found your king." Ron choked on his spit hearing that, laughing nervously. "AHEM MAYBE- MAYBE IT'S TIME TO GO BACK?" his voice cracked. Both Kimberly and Shego laughed at the boy. "Yeah, let's. Kobold King, my apologies for all the troubles we have caused you." "Ah- well... it wasn't all that bad. If it weren't for you two sneaking in, I wouldn't have met--..." "..." "Yes?" "Yes?" "Met-- individuals, such as yourselves, to show me that things aren't all that bad and that love is, mayhaps, a beautiful thing." "...Am I the only one here that thought he was going to say Miss G--OOF!" "Ron!" "It was nice to have met you as well Kobalt. You aren't as bad as they say." "Heh.." "...Farewell." The three Faeries walked off, crossing the bridge. Leaving both the castle and the Kobold King behind. Drakken bit his lip. "...Actually" "Yes?" Shego turned around. "Feel free to visit whenever you like." "Oh. Okay." "Miss Go?" Kimberly had a small smile on her face, "I have learned a lot from you. Ever since I was little, I've seen you as my secondary mother. I'll be good on my own now, besides; I think you might have found your king as well." Shego felt a lump form in her throat as she listened to the Princess' words. She touched her cheek and felt warm tears on her fingers. "Stay out of trouble Princess. I know where to find you." "I'll try my best." Kimberly beamed and hugged her Governess one last time.

"What are you doing Drew?" the King's mother held her son's hand. "What I should've done with Amy: Letting go." "No, you should've told Amy about how you felt. But that's in the past. Now you tell her how you feel." The King turned around to see the green Faerie standing in front of him. Taken aback, he tried to step away but his mother blocked his path. "Tell her. Right. Now!" "Ahem... I-- Erm... it's..." "...Yes?" "I think I-- might, have... I have fal-- fall-- What I mean to say is I lo--" Shego placed her finger on his lips hushing him. "Maybe I should take it from here." she smiled. He hummed in agreement against her touch. That night along the border where magical flowers grew, the Kobold king and the green Faerie danced along to the spring dance's melody that was carried over by the wind. Flying above the Primroses that bloomed between light and shadow.

The end.

Hope you enjoyed reading all of this! :)

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 17

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: swearing, emotional breakdown

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

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©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

Exhausted and in pain, you drag your feet across the floor as you scan the hotel room number.

Against medical advice, you ended up on a flight to Chile. The soonest the airport would let you on a flight after getting your cast on was 48 hours. Even then, you had to take a longer trip with multiple stops rather than one to reduce the stress on your body. Luckily for you, the kids flew to Chile a few days before the second leg of the tour started because of projects they were working on. Meaning that you arrived before the first show.

Wonseok and Frankie weren't happy when you told them you were still planning on going. They spent the two days you were home resting trying to convince you to take more time off. Under normal circumstances, you'd listen to them. If your sister hadn't called you the day before asking for money to help your mother and the rest of the family, you would be at home resting until you could get back to work.

Yet, because life doesn't work out the way you want it to, here you are 38 hours later jet-lagged with a throbbing arm and head trying to find room 148.

You've spent the past few days replaying the events of the airport in your head. It's all could do. You've been too tired or in too much pain to work. It all happened before you even realized what was happening. One second you were taking pictures of the kids while they were walking through the airport, the next you were on the ground with a searing pain coursing through your arm. You were pulled up before you could process the sudden crowd of people and all of the pushing and shoving and shouting from fans and other media professionals. You were pulled up from the ground before you could hurt more. Everything is such a blur, that you can't even remember who helped you.

"Noona?" A familiar voice rings through the hallway.

You set your rolling bag upright in the middle of the hallway as you lock eyes with Changbin. You adjust your backpack over your good arm and watch as Changbin types something into his phone and closes the door to his hotel room. After a moment, he looks up and stares at you, his brows drawing closer in concern.

"What are you doing here?" His words come out slowly, chosen with care and caution.

"Tour officially starts tomorrow, where else would I be?"It came out a bit more serious than you intended it to be.

“Back in Seoul,” Changbin scoffs, his eyes widen in disbelief. His phone chimes a few times before he types something again and then slides it into his pocket. “Honestly noona, you make Seungmin look like a slacker.”

“Well, some of us can’t afford to take time off.”

“You got hurt while working. You’d be taking time to heal, not going on vacation.” The phone in his pocket continues to chime, but with his eyes trained on you he ignores it.

You rubbed your eyes aggressively as if that might clear the heaviness from them. You’re too tired to argue with him and yet you still have an overwhelming urge to justify your actions. To validate them, mostly for Changbin to understand but also for a small part of you deep down that’s trying to understand exactly why you’re there now. “Can we do this later? I’m tired and I don’t feel good,”

“You’d be less tired and feel a lot better in your own bed,” Changbin says gently.

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s the tone in his voice. How his words come off a little condescending. Or maybe you’re so exhausted and used to how the two of you used to be on each other’s bad side, but something about what he said sets you off.

“Look, I don’t want to be here either. I just got done with 3 flights totaling 37 hours—not including layovers. My body hurts from sitting in stiff seats that I couldn’t recline because I didn’t want to be rude even though one flight had a screaming baby and another one had a kid kicking my seat for most of it. And my arm was throbbing so much that I thought it was going to explode mid-flight." You speak quietly, unable, it seems, to put any more effort into being louder. Changbin maintains gentle eye contact while waiting patiently through silence, his features softening from his usual sharp lines as he watches you carefully.

"I wish I could stay home, resting in my bed so I can heal properly. But I can't afford to do that because my boss depends on me. And on top of that, my family--despite me being the youngest with parents and siblings who are very much capable--rely on me. And the only time they remember I exist is when they need or want something, despite being the least favorite." A flicker of recognition crosses Changbin's eyes as you speak. You're oversharing more than you intend. With your level of exhaustion, you're unable to properly filter your words and prevent further word vomit from spewing out of your mouth.

As you speak the words that have been dwelling inside you for months--years even--they linger in the air, somehow heavier than they were before as they suck the oxygen out of the room and weigh down on you. Thick and heavy, your thoughts force you back into your own head, almost as if building a wall between you and Changbin. You don't notice, how much closer Changbin is than he was before. He didn't even notice at first how he seemed to inch closer to you the more you talked. Or how much his hand twitches while resting at his side, unsure of its own actions.

You rub your eyes aggressively once more--so hard you see little stars. You don't register how wet your hand is as you pull your hand away. You do, however, feel a dry lump in your throat as you try to breathe. Finally feeling pin pricks on the back of your eyes, your good arm covers your eyes as you try to choke back the sob threatening to escape your lips. You try to take one deep breath to calm yourself down to no avail. Unable to keep it together any longer, a choked cry escapes you. And then another, and another until you're full-on sobbing.

"I-I'm just so fucking tired," You gasp between sobs, barely able to catch the breath needed for the next.

Changbin's hands hover uncertainly before they gently graze your good arm, softly urging you to put it down. When you refuse, protecting whatever shred of dignity you have left, he places a firm grip on your wrist and slowly pulls your arm down. You're forced to make direct eye contact with Changbin, who is now staring at you with such tenderness that it hurts. His gaze studies you carefully, almost like he's trying to read you before his arms wrap around you.

Being mindful of your broken arm, his grip around you is firm. The scent of his cologne fills your nose, giving you a warm sense of comfort as your face is pressed against his chest. You can't help but cry harder as he murmurs soft words of comfort into your ear while his hands move in small, unconscious gestures of comfort on your back and head.

"It's okay, noona," He mumbles quietly.

"Bin, I told you to stop talking to her," Chan's panicked voice comes up behind you.

"I did," Changbin breathes, "This is about something else, hyung."

You grip Changbin's shirt and bury your face deeper into his chest. It's bad enough he has to see you like this, you're not going to let anyone else.

"You're fine, noona," He whispers to you. "She just needs some rest. She's had a long day."

"Let's get her to her room," Chan says quickly. Changbin's grip around you tightens again as Chan approaches the two of you.

"I got her, hyung. Can you just open her door? Her key is on the floor."

Chan presses his lips together before grabbing your room key from the floor. A weight is physically lifted from your shoulder as Chan grabs your backpack and slings it over his shoulder. He stumbles for a moment, caught off guard by how heavy your backpack is, before grabbing your carry suitcase and walking down the hall to find your room.

Changbin loosens his grip on you, allowing some air to go to your lungs. The atmosphere around you feels a bit lighter, having been absorbed by Changbin and his hug it appears. The heavy words slowly but surely dissipate from the air the more you stand there, listening to Changbin's strong, steady heartbeat. He pulls your head off his chest and watches you for a moment. His hand slides forward from the back of your head, resting on your cheek for a moment before the pad of his thumb breaks the flow of now-silent tears falling from your eyes.

"I got you, Y/n,"

—

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—

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[yandere-kokeshi]

Hi can you write headcanons With Nikolai , Alex , Farah , Ale and rudy with Darling who have scoliosis and need to wear this brace thing to sleep?

— Yandere Nikolai, Alex, Farah, and Rudy with a GN! Darling, who has scoliosis

Warnings: Yandere behavior, details of surgery, back chronic pain, and PT.

A/N: I honestly hope you enjoy this, I did my best with my research! Please message me if anything is remotely incorrect. Happy holidays!

Edit: spelling mistakes is expected! I apologize.

Nikolai:

Nikolai has heard of scoliosis, though he doesn’t know the full extent of how extreme it can be. It can be fatal if left untreated, as he comes to understand in depth, and he really begins to frown at the times when he cannot help but rather play the waiting game.

Chronic back pain isn’t avoidable, which he finds out pretty quickly. Even lying down or walking causes you to be in some form of discomfort, and Nikolai hates coming to terms with it. He deeply tries to help you when he sees you in pain, offering to rub your tight muscles and placing a heating pad or cold press to let you sleep comfortably. Stroking your arms and waist, kissing you deeply, and rubbing your scalp to help calm your mind when it’s too much.

When heading to doctor appointments, Nikolai is always accompanying you. He understands it can be rather scary—the thought of doing more treatment or having a doctor being a prick and not believing you is incredibly nerve-wracking. But having him there, with his hand in yours and wearing his warm jacket, undoubtedly helps at times.

The corrective braces that you wear, he finds, are gorgeous, oddly enough. Despite how often you have to wear them and, at times, unsuccessfully working. Nikolai can’t help but admire how they just form your back intimately. He finds them breathtaking on you, and he never stops telling you that, whispering it in your ear each time he comes up behind you, his hands whisking around your hips to pull you closer to his form.

If correction surgery is ever needed, Nikolai will definitely feel defeated. He will sympathize with your exhaustion and most frustration. It’s something that was mostly avoided, but sometimes it’s needed. The recovery is difficult, and he’s worried about what it will do to you mentally. However, he’s there every step of the way, and if you decide to do it, he’s proud of you. In no way are you a burden, and having this surgery isn’t making you less of his spouse. He doesn’t mind caring for you—if anything, he prefers it. It allows him to understand your tolerances better and, at times, take over when you overexert yourself.

Alex Keller:

Though Alex knows and is aware of scoliosis, he doesn’t understand it as much as a whole. He understands the growing signs and the slight complications of it—but that’s mostly all. So, when you confide in him ahead of time, he’s a bit clueless. However, he does do some research on his own time to understand it better. And more importantly, how to care for and support you.

Chronic pain is something that he’s very aware of, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling awful. He loathes to see you in pain, and not just because he feels uncomfortable from it, but watching you grip your back, trying to relieve the pain but yet cry out, wants him to sob himself. It worries him deeply if the pain is too overboard, and he often talks to you about other options and if surgery is one.

Back braces suck. It’s one of the first few things he learned that’s dreadful about having your condition, but above all, he understands that they are more than a nuisance. His prosthetic is similar—it’s needed, quite annoying, but it’s there to support you.

Alex deeply sympathizes with the dreadful feeling when putting it on, so to help with your moodiness, he suggests decorating the brace. Adding stickers, making it a fun date night where the two of you draw and add symbols and all types of fabric adhesives to make you feel better. He’d even go as far as printing a picture of his face, adding you should make him a sticker and put it on, so he’s “always there for your back.”

His tight hugs and cuddles really make up for his long missions with Farah. Every time he’s home from them, his hands and arms are wrapped around you in some way—kissing your shoulders and making his way down to your back, highlighting how gorgeous you are to make you feel gorgeous.

Farah Karim:

Farah caught your condition pretty early on, understanding from watching you from afar, her “cat-like abilities” making connections. When she properly gets an answer from you, she quickly frets and worries herself by researching your symptoms and, moreover, how to support you as her sweet s/o.

In a way, she adores being attentive to you; your reliance on her is comforting to her. Despite her being a commander and being busy, you always come first. If everything is overwhelming with all the fatigue, migraines, and chronic pain, she’s right beside you. Anytime she’s at home, you can bet Farah will offer to rub your back, getting deep into your digits and letting you control where she rubs. She’ll bring pain prescriptions for easy access and come to you with homemade food she’s made, kissing your face and placing an ice or hot pack down your back brace. Hell, she’s even carried you to the couch or bathroom a few times, not minding one bit.

While she is away, your phone is often buzzing from her. She sends all types of things, especially random dogs she finds or pictures of flowers she comes across, the caption being, “Reminded me of you.” She regularly sends you funny voice clips or videos with her and Alex, without a doubt making you laugh.

Farah will definitely help you put on your back braces, tightening the straps when you struggle to do it yourself. To lighten the mood, as back braces suck, she’ll kiss your face, telling you lame jokes (she stole from Alex), and fixate on the two of you taking a walk together. But, if the pain does become too much, and the doctors do suggest surgery, she makes it your decision. She trusts you enough to make your own call, and if they persist, she shuts them up.

On days when self-consciousness and shame hit you harder, Farah will assure you over and over again that you’re stunning. In bed, she’s behind you, copying the curvatures of your back—her blunt nails following your arches like a painting because it is. It’s one of the many things that makes her have heart-eyes pupils whilst staring at you, just admiring you. She truly loves you and hates seeing you feel self-hating. To let you know you’re not alone, she’ll share her own insecurities.

Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra:

Rodolfo understands what scoliosis is—at least the top bare of it. He’s never known someone affected by it; therefore, he’s never had to learn nor properly research it. But, when you come into his life, he almost becomes a mother hen, studying the best treatments and systems for you, even going ahead to ask questions about your condition.

He constantly reminds you that your spine deformity shouldn’t limit you or stop you from doing what you want. It’s just a slightly bigger challenge, and he’s with you every step of the way, cheering you on in whatever hobby, goal, or career you want to succeed in. Your happiness is his happiness, so if you achieve something, he’s celebrating it with you.

Rodolfo is really on top of helping you stretch, doing some yoga with you, and helping you with your back braces. He has schedules set in the mornings and evenings to do together, and if you feel you are not up to it, he won’t push you, knowing you’re aware of what is best for your body. But sometimes, you have to push through the discomfort—and if he needs to push you to help you regain a bit of flexibility back, Rudy will do so gently, reminding you he’s right beside you the whole way.

Discomfort and being unable to move because of your own soreness leave him pinned. It’s not new for you, but it is for him—it’s uncomfortable and awkward, leaving him unsure how to properly help you. But sometimes, the best he can do is just be beside you. Helping you with items, hoping to have you get some type of joy out of snacks and rest beside you. Not having the expectancy of doing anything, just entangled limbs in bed as he traces your goosebumps, his lips pressing against your temple. He tells you what he and Alejandro did for duty that day, recounting some specific details and future plans by the two of you. Kissing your skin and reminding you that you’re his entire world.

Much like Alex above, Rodolfo heavily suggests decorating your back binder, making it more you-styled if you haven’t already done it. He understands they are bland and with no color; it doesn’t help your mood. So, he makes it a promise to help you decorate, adding some personal decorations, even if they end up bad. It’s the idea that comes in handy, and if the two of you laugh during it, it’s a start of something positive.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[dp-marvel94]

Real -Chapter 4

Summary:

While hiding from his parents in Gotham, an ill-timed encounter with his neighbor, Jason, has Danny pretending to be his own twin. Fortunately for Danny, the more he pretends the easier it gets. Until he is not pretending at all. Or: Danny names a duplicate and via ghost logic, said duplicate ends up becoming real.

First->Previous

Also on AO3

Note: So... my the chapter count went up from 4 to 6. Blushes sheepishly This story keeps growing beyond my control!

“Jamie.” Danny smiles softly up at his brother.

The other boy grumbles sleepily, slowly drawing his head up from his pillow. “What?”

“You lasted through the night.”

In a blink, Jamie sits up. His mouth falls open, his hands raising to his face. “Still… here?” He stares at his palms like he had never seen them before.

“Yeah buddy.” Danny sits up, grinning. “You’re still here.”

The clone stares disbelievingly for a few more moments. Finally, slowly, a hesitant smile blooms on his face. “Still here.” He stands from the couch, lowering himself to kneel beside Danny on the mattress. “Thank you.” Jamie spreads his arms, hugging the half ghost.

Gladly Danny returns the embrace. “I’m the dummy who forgot I had ectodejcto.” He shakes his head, chuckles more than a hint self-deprecating.

Still…. The chest pressed against his breaths slowly, warmth radiating from it.

He pulls back, fixing hopefully eyes on his twin. “How do you feel? Any different?”

Jamie raises a hand to his chest, brow furrowed in thought. “Kinda. Feel stronger. But…” The boy hesitates.

“But…” Danny gently prods.

“The heartbeat…. Feels different from yours.” The clone rubs fingers over his heart.

“Of course it does.” The older brother smiles encouragingly. “It’s your heart, not mine. That’s your body, completely yours.”

Jamie blinks once, his brow furrowing. “Guess it is.” Still, his hand rubs his chest.

Danny’s own brow furrows, puzzled. He had figured Jamie would be more excited at this development. The two are finally separate! But something is still bothering his twin.

After a pause, Jamie looks up, worried eyes fixing on the hastily wrapped cut on Danny’s bicep. “Is your arm better?”

“Oh yeah.” The half ghost casually turns to look. He pulls up end of the bandaging, peering at the thin scabbed line. “It’s fine.”

His twin’s frown just deepened. “It’s not fine. You got hurt and… and it’s Jamie’s fault.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not your fault.” Danny tries to reassure. “Spectra’s the one who decided to attack you when you were down.”

“And Spectra?” Fear flickers across Jamie’s face. “Where is she?”

“In the thermos.” Danny pulls the device out of the floor where he’d stashed it before going to sleep. “She’s not getting out anytime soon.”

His twin eyes the device. “And you’re planning to bury her in the park…” He bit his lip. “What if she gets out? Or a rogue finds her? One of the Bats? They could get curious.”

“Jamie, Jamie.” The older brother cuts into the anxious ramble. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. I’ll keep the thermos on me until I think of something better than burying it. I won’t let anything happen to it. Or to us. I’ll protect both of us.”

Doubt still flickers in the clone’s eyes but… “We’ll be okay?“ Round eyes plead his older brother for reassurance.

“Yes. We’ll be okay. You are going to be okay.” Danny smiles soothingly. “And you’ve finally got your own body! That’s incredible. If we could figure that out, we can figure out anything else that comes our way.”

Jamie finally exhales, tensed shoulders relaxing somewhat. Still, he says nothing about his new stability, just standing with a non-committal hum. He takes a few steps to the kitchen, opening the cupboard to pull out a box of cereal.

“You hungry?” Danny also stands. His lips quirk, pleased with the question.

“Yes.” The clone blinks once, staring at the box. His brow wrinkles. “That’s new.”

Danny laughs at the puzzled look. Still, he does not tease his brother too much. The two eat breakfast, mostly in companionable silence; even with his independent personality truly developed, Jamie is a person of few words.

As he’s cleaning his bowl in the sink, the clone cuts in. “Do you have work today?”

“Ugh. Yes.” Danny groans. Then he blinks, realizing. “I guess you’re staying here today?”

Jamie had visited him at work in the past, before the twins act became real. On their last longest foray apart – from when Danny woke up to when his body forced him to sleep at 36 hours – the clone had hidden away in the nearby library during Danny’s six-hour shift. Most of the time though, Jamie slept, his cold spark nested close to Danny’s own core. But hopefully now, their days of sharing a body are over.

“Yeah.” The other boy nods, pointing to the stack of books they’d picked up at the library. “Gonna try and get through The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks.”

“Have fun.” The older quipped, more than a hint of tease.

The book is a mix of history, biography and biology that Danny himself would never have picked up. But at the library, he had watched as Jamie’s eyes lit up with excitement when spotting it. Oh, how Danny’s brightly own eyes had sparked at that excitement, sharing a measure of his brother’s joy.

Danny prepares for work, phasing the thermos into his side to keep it safe; no way was he leaving it here, alone with his brother. The half ghost dresses. He rides the bus across town. Takes orders, makes coffee, cleans the floor. A typical shift all around until….

Just as he is clocking out, a twinge of his twin’s fear ripples through their ever-present bond.

Danny heart pounds, a surge of panic in response. Is Jamie okay? What’s-

“Hey, Jamie. Danny’s not here?” Jason stands at the door.

The scene blooms in his mind, as clear as the coffee shop’s floor at his feet.

“No. At work.” Jamie’s voice answers.  “He should be clocking out about now though.”

“Alright.” Their neighbor smiles softly. “Do you want to help me surprise him with some cookies?”

“Uh… sure?” The tentative reply.

Jason lets himself in and Danny finally notices through Jamie’s eyes the large canvas bag he holds in either hand.

Through Jamie’s eyes… he must be seeing what his twin is.

“These are gonna be really great.” The man starts. “Not as good as my Gramps’. His start wars just as much as they end them.” He chuckles. “But he did try to teach me.”

The vision ends and Danny is left staring at the peg where he had been hanging his apron. One of his coworkers gives him an odd look and he hurries out of the store and towards the bus stop.

While Danny walks, words from outside himself poke at his core. It’s alright. Wanted to show you what was happening. No need to hurry.

Jamie soothes him and the half ghost gives a shaky sigh of relief. This is new, Jamie being able to sent him images through their bond. And words from so far away? His twin never ceases to surprise him.

Clumsily, Danny tries to reply back. Waiting for the bus. I’ll be home soon.

A mild confusion ripples down the line. Waiting? Home? Didn’t get all that. Need to focus on Jason though. Later.

The half ghost huffs. Well, that wasn’t the most successful. He feels the emotional communication trickle to a stop, his link to Jamie quiet and still.

Soon enough, the bus arrives. Danny rides back. He tries not to anxiously tap his foot, tries not to project that feeling to Jamie. As much as he likes Jason, he can’t help but share his brother’s worry. This is Jamie’s first time interacting with Jason by himself. And he still doesn’t know what he’ll do if the truth about his twin’s origin comes out to their neighbor.

Danny gets off the bus. He walks the few blocks back to their apartment, nervousness swirling in his gut all the while.

But as he approaches the door, hearing Jamie laugh at something Jason said, the familiar ease he’s started to feel with the neighbor slides right into place.

“Hey Jason.” Danny opens the door, giving the man a cheery wave. “Are the cookies ready?”

“What cookies?” Jason asks, innocently stepping in front of the oven.

“The one’s your Gramps makes,” The boy raises an eyebrow. “That apparently start and end wars.”

“How do you know about that?” The neighbor blinks once, raising his own eyebrow teasingly.

“Twin telepathy.” Danny grins cheekily.

Jason laughs. Then… he pauses a look a realization flickering across his face. “You’re not kidding, are you? Is that you two’s meta ability?”

A flash of panic. The older brother trades a look with the younger who just shrugs. “Yeah. We’ve got this… empathic bond, I guess. It’s feelings most of the time.”

“But can be words or pictures.” Jamie adds.

Jason nods in understanding. But he doesn’t press, doesn’t ask anymore questions. The three eat cookies and talk about the book Jamie picked out at the library.

As he’s leaving, the neighbor eyes the bandage on Danny’s shoulder. “What happened there?”

“I wasn’t watching where I was going running to catch the bus yesterday and run into a light post.” The boy shrugs, casual with the lie.

For a second, a dubious look crosses Jason’s face. Then a flicker of worry. “How’d it manage to scratch you? I hope you’re up on your tetanus shot.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Danny brushes him off. “I’m up to date.”

Still, Jason looks dubious. And yet still, he does not press.

At the same time, Jamie pales, trying to his best to hide the significant look he’s giving Danny.

Danny’s head tilts, brow furrowing as Jason leaves. The door closes. A second passes, two, ten. Then…

“Jason is the Red Hood.” Jamie blurts out.

The proclamation feels like a blow to the head. “What?!” In the next second, Danny slams hands over his mouth, trying to muffle the shout. “What? How? Are you sure?”

The clone nods vigorously. “Sure. He noticed this ankle isn’t twisted.” He flexes the previously injured joint. “Tried to look like he didn’t, like he wasn’t surprised. But saw that he was.”

“Okay.” Danny takes a breath, trying to calm the flash of panic.  “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

But…. The way Jason asked about the cut on his arm, the way he reacted to the answer was strange and…

“Jason’s death aura….” Jamie cuts in. “It feels the same as Hood’s.”

The older boy’s protesting mouth snaps shut. “It… does.” He feels very foolish right now. “How… how didn’t I notice?”

His twin frowns biting his lip. “It was stronger yesterday when he was fighting.” He raises his hands to his head, tugging at his hair. “Why would we think our normal neighbor’s a vigilante?”

That is a fair point. He has had no reason to suspect before now. Except Jason always disappeared to work during rogue attacks. And Damian climbed up the fire escape and threatened to stab him. Is Jason’s family the other Bats?

“He… he saw everything.” Jamie stutters, cutting into Danny’s thoughts. “Spectra and you as Phantom and….” His eyes flicker back to Danny’s bandage. “Spectra’s scratch.” His eyes pop wide, fixing on Danny. “You told him we’re related.”

“Yes. I did.” Now it’s Danny’s turn to bite his lip.

“Does he know about us being ghosts?” And finally, now a jolt of anxiety buzzes from his twin

“He might…” The older half ghost frowns. “We could confront him. If he doesn’t know for sure now, he’ll work it out-“

“No!” Jamie interrupts forcefully. “We can’t… we can’t tell him!”

“Jamie-“

“He might not know.” The clone continues. “But we know his secret. We have the advantage. But… if he knows, he’ll tell the other Bats. And they might kick us out and-”

“Jamie, It’s okay.” Danny places a hand on his twins’. This worryingly sounds like their conversation from last night. “They’re not going to kick us out. Jason likes us. Besides, maybe they can help us, maybe better than the Meta Human Foundation can.” He bits his lip, at the same time guilt pricks at his heart; with everything that happened last night, he forgot to tell Jamie about his talk with Duke.

“That… maybe that’s true. Jason is nice; he cares about us.” The younger boy vigorously shakes his head. “But… but…”

“But what?” Danny gently prods.

Jamie looks down, biting his lip in hesitation.

“I know that you’re scared.” Danny sighs. “I am too. But we can’t do nothing. Either we confront Jason now, or he confronts us. Or knowing my luck, something happens and we don’t have a choice but to tell him. It’s better to do it now, on our terms.” The older boy’s brow furrow in gentle question. “Do you understand?”

“Ye…yes. But… we can’t.” Still, his twin insists. “Just… we can’t.”

“Jamie…” Danny sucks in a breath, feeling annoyance start to clash with his worry. “You can’t keep-“

“I…I can’t.” Jamie interrupts, voice trembling with desperation. “I can’t.”

The older’s eyes widen, any annoyance evaporating at that desperation, at the magnitude of it. It echoes back to just weeks ago, when Jamie plead that the twins having each other was not a lie. When his brother begged to be allowed to exist.

“Not… not ready.” The clone continues. “I’m not… not ready for Jason to know the truth.”

“Okay.” Again, just like that, Danny gives. “Okay.”

After everything — their fight last night, Spectra, Jamie finally gaining his own body – Jamie needs to lead. His twin needs to feel safe, stable, secure.

“We won’t to go talk to him tonight. And I won’t push you until you’re ready.”

Jamie lets out a breath, just a hint of relief. “Thanks.”

“Not be fast.” Danny points, giving his brother a serious, though still kind look. “We’re not putting this off forever. What do you need to be ready to talk to Jason?”

The clone’s frown deepens, shoulders rising. “Don’t… don’t know.”

“Maybe we could practice? I could help you rehearse how you want to explain things.” Danny offers. “Or you could write it down?”

Jamie perks up at that. “Like a letter?”

“Yeah. You could write what you want to tell Jason.”

With a nod, the clone agrees.

The two settle for bed and again, Jamie lasts through the night.

In the morning, the twins head to the corner shop. Danny buys breakfast while Jamie picks out notebooks and pens. The older half ghost goes to work while the younger stays home.

“See you later.” Danny waves, leaving his twin lying on the floor with his new writing supplies.

Stupid letter. The words occasionally echo across his link to Jamie, with twinges of annoyance.

The older half ghost returns home to find the apartment covered with balled up paper.

“It’s too hard.” Jamie groans, sinking his head against one last half-scratched sheet.

“You’ll figure it out.” Danny encourages. He reaches for a piece of paper, unballing it. “Maybe I can help-“

“Not yours.” His twin sits up with a hiss. He swipes the paper out of Danny’s hand.

“Alright.” The older puts his hands up disarmingly.

Danny does not press, despite his worry. Instead… “Let’s make some food. I bet you’re starving. I definitely am.”

“Hungry too.” Jamie agrees with a nod.

The two put on music while cooking. Danny grabs a large pot and a box of pasta from the cabinets, setting the water to boil. Jamie finds the cutting board and knife to cut up carrots for a salad.

Danny hums along to the music, dropping the noodles into the boiling water. A shocked gasp sounds behind him, the clatter of a knife dropping.

“What happened?” Danny turns rapidly, anxious eyes on Jamie.

“It’s fine.” The clone cuts in quickly, covering his finger. “I’m fine.”

“Did you cut yourself?” The older boy steps forward, reaching for the finger suspiciously cradled in Jamie’s left hand.

“I’m fine.” Again, the younger insists.

Still, with Danny’s pleading look, Jamie reluctantly hands over the injured hand. Neon green wells on the middle finger.

Danny frowns. “Let’s get this wrapped up.”

He retrieves a bandage for Jamie, returning to the kitchen to find his twin washing the area before grabbing and holding a paper towel over it.

“Here you go.” The older boy offers the bandage.

Jamie takes it, lifting the paper.

“Is that even a cut?” Danny chuckles to cut the tension, barely catching sight of the tiny break in the skin. He shakes his head amusedly. “We need to keep you away from knives.”

The clone rolls his eyes. “Jamie is fine with knives.”

The older half ghost’s lips twitch into a frown. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?” Jamie’s brow wrinkles, turning back to his cutting board.

“You used first person. ‘I’m fine.’ Then you went back to just saying Jamie.”

“Yeah. So?” The younger boy shrugs, forcibly casual.

“So?” Danny furrows his brow at the question. “Jamie is you, not some…” He waves his hands vaguely, trying to put together the words. “Not some other person other person you’re speaking for. You can use the first person.”

There is a pause. Then… Jamie turns to looks at him, sighing. “It’s not that easy. It’s…it’s...” The clone blows out a breath, shaking his head. “It’s… Jamie is easy, farther away. I.. me is hard. It’s close. It’s… scary.”

Danny’s eyes soft, round with worry. “Why is it scary?”

Before Jamie can answer, the pasta is boiling over and the smoke alarm is going off. The conversation is lost in the bustle of opening the windows and salvaging dinner.

Later when Danny is taking out the trash, he sees Jason in the hall. The two meet eyes and the half ghost knows. Jason knows that he is the ghost boy from that night. Just the subtlest raise of the vigilante’s eyebrow… does Jason know that the twins know about Red Hood as well?

“Danny, here.” Jamie opens the door, holding out a tied-closed shopping bag. “You forgot the bathroom.”

“Oh, thanks.” Danny takes the bag.

A tentative look between his brother and their neighbor. Jamie’s No is audible in his head, despite the clone’s even expression.

With a sigh, the older half ghost walks to the stairs, passed a vaguely questioning looking Jason.

The encounters with the neighbor over the next few days are much the same, an awkward dance of who knows what truth and whether either will speak. Danny debates what he’ll do if Jason finally presses the issue. At the same time, he tries his best to balance the need for action and for patience with his brother.

Another difficult conversation between the brothers and Jamie tentatively agrees to meet with someone from the Meta Human Foundation by the end of the next week. But stubbornly, on the question of confronting Jason…

“Not until the letter is done.” Jamie crosses his arms petulantly.

Over the past several days, Jamie had continued trying to write his letter while Danny was at work. Their trashcan overflows with drafts, ink staining the clone’s fingers.

“You could let me help.” Danny again offers. “What are you trying to figure out how to say?”

“No.” Again, Jamie refuses. “Can do it by myself.”

As proud as he is with the first-person pronoun… The older half ghost sighs. “This isn’t actually about getting the right words, is it?”

The clone averts his eyes, a green blush starting to rise.

“What about talking to Jason is worrying you?” Danny asks, leaning closer. “Is it a ghost thing?” He remembers Jamie’s surprise and guilt when he realized that his original was human and he wasn’t. The clone’s humanity has grown a lot since then, even if he still bleeds green, but… “I don’t care if you’re more ghost than human. And I don’t think Jason will either. With that death aura, I won’t be surprised if he’s a little ghostly himself.”

“No, it’s not that.” Jamie shook his head, biting his lip.

Danny’s brow furrows. “If it’s not a ghost thing bothering you, then…is it a clone thing?”

A long, heavy pause. Jamie’s fingers dig into the couch’s arm rest… and the older half ghost suspects he hit the nail on the head.

“Jamie, listen to me.” The older boy takes in a breath, letting earnestness fill his words. “If Jason has a problem with that, or any of the other Bats, I will personally beat them up for you. You’re my family, no matter what and-“

“No. That’s not it.” Jamie interrupts, hissing through his teeth. “That’s not…” Another hissing breath. “That’s part of it. But Jamie isn’t just some clone. There’s… more. More history. More…” He shakes his head vigorously. “It doesn’t matter.”

Danny blinks. “Of course it matters.”

“No, it doesn’t.” The clone’s arm cross, turning away. “Don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Jamie-“

His brother’s nostrils flare; for just a second, Danny wonders if he actually does see smoke. “Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It.”

Danny’s own nostrils flare, wanting to return the sudden anger in kind but…. The image of opening that bathroom door to find Jamie gone hits him. Any response dies in his throat, replaced by a grieved, fearful thickness.

Ever since Jamie stabilized in his own body, they’ve been going in circles. His brother is fearful, closed off to him. And… and Danny doesn’t know what to do. He wishes Jazz was here, that it was safe to call her. She would know to say, how to get the younger boy to open up.

The older half ghost heaves out a breath. Yet another reason they need to talk to Jason. With the Bats help, maybe they can find a way to safely talk to Jazz and Sam and Tucker. A familiar grief pricks him. He misses his friends and sister so much. And… the three don’t even know about his new little brother. That will be an interesting conversation.

Danny rubs his brow, at a loss.

In the meantime, the clone goes back to his paper. More ink stains his fingers, this time green. After a moment, the boy hisses, the paper’s edge raising a bead of ectoplasm on his thumb.

Dutifully, Danny rises for a bandage. Again, he helps his brother apply it.

Again, he wonders. What is he going to do?

Note: Rest assured, the confrontation with Jason is coming very soon! The build up just kept getting longer and longer so I decided to end the chapter here and put that in the next one. I hope you enjoyed!