#in fact it may make things even more confusing considering you’ll base your pick now off a video done pre meeting everyone where strategies

[mazojo]

The dumbest shit ever to choose to watch players videos of what they would do if they were the mole because it’s so??? Nothing ?? Like, strategies change so much once you’re actually there it tells you absolutely nothing and you lost 5k

[casuallyimagining]

Fix You (2)

hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader

Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal? Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 2,987 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

Notes: Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae​, and @hoebii​​ for editing this for me.

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When you woke up, the cat was nowhere to be found, and your pillow was missing. It was just your luck that the random cat you had saved would end up being a kleptomaniac. You sighed and began to get ready for your day. It wasn’t like you could do anything about it. The cat was probably scared and confused, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to be comfortable.

As you passed your TV stand, you bent down to peer underneath it. Copper eyes stared back at you. You greeted the cat and his tail swished back and forth against the floor, annoyed. So he wasn’t into mornings, then.

Heading into the kitchen, you quickly made yourself a cup of coffee. If the cat wasn’t a morning person, then you would probably get along. You were an early riser, but that was mostly due to insomnia, not because you actually enjoyed being awake.

You brought him the rest of the chicken you had cut up the night before, prepared with his morning dose of the antibiotics. Laying down on the floor, you pushed the plate under the TV stand for him.

He sniffed at the chicken, eyes not leaving your face as he started to eat. His canines were long and pointy, you noticed, and if you paid attention when his mouth was closed, you could barely see the tip of the right one poking out from his lips.

“I’m going to go shopping today to get you some stuff.” The cat didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. He was a cat. “I know you’re feeling better, but please try not to jump on stuff. You’ll hurt yourself more, and I really can’t afford another weekend trip to the vet.” His copper eyes seemed to soften at that for a moment before hardening back into a glare.

You weren’t sure what you did to make the cat constantly glare at you. Maybe he had a resting grouch face. Maybe he was just uncomfortable in his new surroundings. You hoped that, if nothing else, he would eventually warm up to you. All the pets you’d had in the past had opened up to you right away, although you supposed that was because they were babies when your family had adopted them. You’d never adopted an adult cat before.

“Eat up,” you told him before pushing yourself off the floor. “I’ll be back soon.”

The pet store was larger than you remembered it being. When you were a kid shopping with your mother for your pets, there were only a few departments in the store. There was, of course, sections for cats and dogs, as well as areas for fish, birds, reptiles, and small mammals. Now though, in addition to the old departments, there were additional sections for hybrids of all kinds--there was even a department dedicated to large and exotic hybrids like lions, panthers, giraffes, and elephants.

Hybrids weren’t a new species by any means, but it had only been in the past decade or so that people had fully started to embrace them in society. Before, shops that catered to hybrids were usually small and boutique--hybrids used to only be seen as pets or servants, and ones that lived without ownership were few and far between. But after fighting for and receiving the rights they deserved, hybrids had become more prevalent in society. There was even a hybrid serving in the president’s cabinet, and quite a few serving in other high-ranking government positions.

You wandered through the cat section of the pet store, unsure of what to buy. You had a couple toys in your cart--catnip mice and little springs and balls that had bells in them. You knew the cat was somehow going to act offended by them, but you reminded yourself that he’s a cat, and indoor cats needed something to stimulate their minds.

You also had put some cat shampoo in your cart. The cat was dirty, and you weren’t sure how much blood was going to be caked into his fur under the bandage, so you figured a bath was somewhere in his immediate future.

Sighing, you grabbed a bag of air-dried food. He would probably hate that, too, but you couldn’t keep feeding him raw chicken. For one thing, you couldn’t stand the feel of it, and the less you had to touch the raw meat, the better. But also, chicken was expensive, and while your job paid decently, you weren’t sure how well it could support an all-raw diet for the cat. This air-dried food was turkey and salmon, and would be the next closest thing to raw.

Eventually, you would probably end up getting the cat a cat tree, but you didn’t think it was a good idea right now. With his shoulder injury, he really shouldn’t be climbing or jumping, and a cat tree would only invite that more. So you left the aisle, even though they had a tree that had a little house you knew he would love to hide in.

Before checking out, you stopped by the little kiosk that sold ID tags and collars. You knew he would hate wearing a collar, but if he ever escaped, you wanted to know someone could return him to you. You would ask the vet about microchipping later, but for now, a collar would have to do. Looking at the options, you couldn’t help but laugh. Most of the plain collars were pink or had things like little butterflies on them. A few had bells, which you knew he would find absolutely repulsive, and a couple others had bowties. You considered a dark blue plaid one with a bowtie, but decided against it. As cute as he would look, you knew the cat would probably bite you if you went anywhere near him with it.

You settled on a collar covered in piano keys. It was the plainest one they had in stock that wasn’t bright pink. You grabbed a small, circular tag, too. He would hate it, but at least maybe if you picked the least offensive options, the cat would tolerate wearing a collar.

On the way home, you stopped and grabbed a coffee from the chain cafe down the street from your apartment. You were still a little tired, and when you got home, you were glad for the extra caffeine.

“I’m home, kitty!” you called into the seemingly empty apartment. You hadn’t really been expecting the cat to be anywhere out in the open, but a small part of you had hoped.

Walking into the kitchen, you deposited the couple bags from the pet store on the table. You couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Nothing was broken or in the wrong place that you could see from first glance, but the niggling feeling in the back of your mind wouldn’t go away. Something had been moved in your kitchen. Your mug from your coffee this morning was washed and sat in your drying rack, along with another cup that you had thought you put away and the dish from last night that you had used to feed the cat. You didn’t remember washing the dishes this morning, but you were still a little tired, so maybe you had and just forgot.

You didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary, so you let it go, choosing instead to go find your cat. As expected, you found him under the TV stand. He was panting as if he had just run under there from somewhere else in the house.

“You know you’re allowed to be in other rooms, right?” you asked him softly, pulling the empty plate out so you could take it to the kitchen. “You don’t have to run under here every time I come home.” Copper eyes met yours for a second, and you could see panic in them. Then you saw it. The bandage around his shoulder was gone.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped it securely. He must have really been running around the house to not only loosen it, but to dislodge the bandage entirely.

“What were you doing while I was gone, dude?” you questioned. The cat looked terrified. His eyes were large as saucers, his ears flat against his head. His mouth was open in a silent hiss, his long canine teeth on full display. “Are you hurt?” That seemed to catch him off guard. “Are you still bleeding? Can I see?” You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your phone. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to,” you said softly, waving your phone in the dark. “But can you at least turn so I can see?”

It took you a second to realize that, again, you were talking to a cat. He wasn’t going to listen to you, despite how human his reactions to you seemed to be. In the second that it took you to remind yourself that your cat is, in fact, a cat, his demeanor changed. His ears were still pressed back against his head, but he seemed less agitated, more resigned. He crawled toward you slowly, the limp almost entirely gone.

When he was out from under the TV stand, he stood fully. You pushed yourself up so you could sit and examine him. As you reached for him, he backed away slightly. His copper eyes met yours for the briefest of seconds before they flicked away, focusing on the floor. He stood still and allowed you to scoop him up into your lap.

“It’s okay,” you soothed, scratching his head gently. “Let me just look at your shoulder.”

You ran your hand over the joint and he froze. For a second, you thought maybe he was going to bolt back under the TV stand. But he sat there stiffly, allowing you to feel for the bite marks and anything that might still be bleeding.

You found nothing. Not even a scab. The only signs of the dog attack yesterday were a ring of indents--scars, you presumed--that ran from his shoulder blades down to his chest and onto his leg. There was no way he had healed that fast.

But you didn’t say that. Instead, you smiled at him. “If you don’t want to wear the bandage any more, you don’t have to,” you said soothingly, scratching at the base of his ear. His copper eyes met yours, and you pulled away at the apprehension in them.

He stepped out of your lap as soon as your hand was away from him. You nodded once, smiling at him. “I’m going to go do some work, kitty. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

You were a researcher. Always had been. When you were looking for apartments in the city, you had created spreadsheets and pro/con lists and had spent weeks researching neighborhoods. And when you decided on the right neighborhood, you had debated floor plans, after weeks of second-guessing finally settling on the single floor, three bedroom, two bathroom with the decent sized kitchen and living room.

You hadn’t done any research before taking in the cat. You loved cats, had had several growing up. You knew enough about them to not need to do any research before committing to taking home the stray living near your parents’ house.

Maybe you should have.

Although you weren’t exactly sure how researching could have possibly prevented anything. You pushed it out of your mind, though, choosing instead to focus on your next work project.

Except you couldn’t focus. Your client was a hybrid-owned cafe just outside the city, and you were trying to design their menus. Normally, it wouldn’t take you long at all. They were great clients, and they had given you all the information you needed, but your mind kept drifting to the cat in your living room. You assumed he had crawled back under the TV stand. He seemed to be comfortable enough under there, although clearly he felt comfortable leaving the shadows when you weren’t home.

And then there was the problem of his name. You had no idea what to call him, but you were sure he had a name. Though how you’d figure it out, you had no idea.

You had wanted to watch this movie for months. It had appeared on streaming services around Christmastime, but it was now April, and you still hadn’t had the chance to watch it. You curled up on your sectional in the living room to watch it, a bowl of popcorn sitting beside you. You had turned the lights off in the living room, so the only major source of light was what was coming from the TV, and it was a fairly dark movie.

Though you were invested in the plot, you still scrolled through your phone, your attention divided between social media and what was happening on the television.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a shadow moving under your TV stand. Your cat’s head poked out a second later, copper eyes watching you scroll through your social media. In another second, the rest of his body emerged from the shadows. You forced yourself to watch the movie. You didn’t want to freak him out by watching him. When you glanced back at where he had emerged, he was gone.

The movie was about halfway over when you noticed him again, slinking back into the living room from the hallway. Where he had gone, you had no idea. But he sat for a moment, staring at you from beside the wall. You had grabbed a blanket in the time that he had been gone. Your apartment tended to get chilly at night sometimes--it was old, and the insulation wasn’t the best--and you were a little cold.

Before you knew what was happening, he was up on the couch and in your lap, laying in the valley between your outstretched legs. He paused for a moment, copper eyes meeting yours as if gauging your reaction. In the dim light from the TV, you could see that hint of panic again, as if he was terrified you would shout or push him away. You smiled at him gently, resituating so more of your lap was available and going back to scrolling through your phone.

The cat was apparently satisfied with your reaction, because he readjusted himself, as well, curling up so he was taking up more real estate on your lap. You didn’t mind. His little body put off quite a lot of heat, and from what you could feel of him through the blanket, he was cold, too. Eventually, he settled in, his head rested against your leg beside your free hand, his tail flopped into the crook of your elbow, the tip flicking lightly back and forth.

After a moment, you felt him shift again, and you almost jumped when you felt his head press into your hand. It took you a second, and a few more tentative bumps from him, but you eventually opened your hand and allowed him to press his forehead into your palm. You rubbed your thumb gently over the soft fur of his cheek. He leaned into your touch and you could feel him relaxing. You heard the rumbles of a purr start to stutter in his chest. It wasn’t constant like other cats’--it sounded vaguely like popcorn, crackling and popping at random.

You sighed, resting one hand on his back and continuing to stroke his cheek. He stiffened for a moment and raised his head, wide eyes staring into your face, before he slowly started to relax again.

“I can’t keep calling you kitty,” you said softly when he was comfortable. He didn’t raise his head, but his ear swiveled in your direction to show he was paying attention. “And I’m terrible at names, so you’re going to have to figure out a way to tell me what yours is. Unless you want me to call you something ridiculous like Smudge or Shadow.” The cat grunted. Apparently he didn’t like those names, either. “I didn’t think so.”

Your attention returned to the movie, but you kept petting him. His stuttering purr resumed. He directed your hand by nudging it, up his head and down to his shoulder. He adjusted how he was laying so you could rub where the scars of yesterday’s bite marks were. You massaged the area gently, his purring increasing in volume.

His fur was soft and considerably less dirty than it had been that morning. If you concentrated, he smelled like your shampoo.

“I have to take some stuff back to the pet store tomorrow,” you said finally. “So you’ll have some time alone to do whatever.”

He froze, and despite the movie playing, it was quiet without his purring. His eyes were wide, and he hissed, but aside from his ears flattening, he didn’t move. He was scared--no, he was terrified.

It broke your heart.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You kept your voice soft and even. “You can stay here for as long as you’d like. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

You sighed. You still felt a little weird talking so seriously with a cat, but his reactions confirmed what your research had told you. You had questions, and you were a little concerned about the logistics of everything, but you had started to come to terms with it.

Him smelling like your shampoo. The dishes being done. The stolen pillow and blanket. The things that were moved ever so slightly. The oddly appropriate reactions to what you were saying. How fast he had healed. Maybe you’d always known. Maybe that’s why you still talked to him like he was a person.

He was a person, more or less.

Your cat was a hybrid.

As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!

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Taglist: @min-yus, @melindagrace31, @shrimpmsg, @ghostkat23, @demcreeps, @ggsmashgg, @findingourtreasure, @20emma0, @springbean​, @black-rose-29, @cuteipat, @agustneeds, @deeepvibes, @yzkyzkuniverse, @softbbyg0rl​

[broiunno]

License to Steal - Act IV

License to Steal

ACT IV

Act I // Act II // Act III // Act IV

---

summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 5.8k

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, BEWARE IN THIS ACT: graphic family abuse (father initiated verbal and physical assault- does not fade to black), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work.

-authors note: @chelsea-chee leading the au as usual. I love her the appreciate her as my love, writer, and my beta. Her works are *chefs kiss* Thank you again beautiful <3 PLEASE NOTE: I AM REALLY NOT EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT FEW ACTS. They deal with heavy subject matter and I don't fade to black at any point so please note my works are for mature audiences, warnings are there for a reason and in bold. You are an adult if you are reading this work (per the warnings) and you are responsible for the content you consume. Thank you. ILY all and I love asks about the characters. And that's all I have to say about that...I'm sorry for the wait. I've had covid. I'm back on a better schedule now.

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

You fumbled with your hair as you tried to rip your fingers through the still damp strands to assemble it back into a semi-presentable pony tail as the door slid open to your father’s office. You really did wish that you had been able to go upstairs and shower. Or at least change your clothes from the workout gear you currently felt sticking to your skin from the cooling sweat. As a breeze drifted from the vent as the air kicked on, you shivered violently, shaking your head and shooting a hateful stare in Yoongi’s direction as you stepped into the office. Appearances were everything in your family. They were the first level of protection to ensure threats stayed at a minimum. A show of strength and cohesiveness discouraged any hair-brained ideas from a weaker or less organized opposition.

Your father raised a dark, thick brow, turning from the man was speaking quietly to, his expression unreadable as you inclined your head slightly in greeting. “You asked to see me?” you said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast. Since Yoongi had mentioned your father was summoning you, you knew it couldn’t be anything positive. This soon after your arrival? Nothing good would come of this. You had just grabbed onto the distraction of Yoongi until you both stood in the office, feeling stripped bare, awaiting whatever admonishment was about to be delivered.

“You couldn’t make it a full forty-eight hours without causing me a migraine,” your father said sharply and you kept your eyes trained on the floor, as you replayed yesterday in your mind.

“Father, I don’t know what you-”

“Y/N, you weren’t even back a day and you spent how much?” he said, aggravation lacing his tone. “I had to call in Kim to look at your accounts immediately. You’re a fucking hassle.” He huffed and your eyes finally lifted to the stranger that stood next to your father, noting that he stepped away from your father and bowed quickly.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Kim Namjoon. I’ve been handling your accounts and will continue to do so.” You felt your lips part in a soft ‘oh’ as you studied the broad planes of his face, full lips and intense eyes. You felt like he was picking you apart in that moment as you took your time to absorb his ash blond hair in a relaxed, but carefully crafted style. His skin tone was golden; a contrast to Yoongi’s milk-like skin. He glowed, and you couldn’t tell if it from his melanin or the fact that he was radiating intelligence.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” you stammered and managed to close your mouth as he pushed up the rolled sleeves of his white button-down shirt. You swallowed hard and tried to claw through the mental fog that had overcome you. With the teasing from both Jungkook and Yoongi, being presented with another god-like man was the last thing you needed. “I will admit I’m a little confused; my spending was never a problem when I was away? I mean, it’s not like I bought a car.”

Your father barked a laugh and threw up his hands. “You have no grasp on what I do to make this money that you just piss away Y/N! And you COULD have bought a car with the amount you spent yesterday! Like I said: a god damn burden!” he hissed and you flushed slightly, taking a step back unconsciously as you watched his neck flush. Yoongi hadn’t said a word, but you knew you could still sense his dark presence in the corner of the room, not looking at him to notice his eyes narrowed slightly as the scene unfolded.

“Y/N, I’ve had an idea. You’re a daughter. I can’t do much with you. Your brother who I could actually have used is dead. Your mother-” He stopped as he watched your eyes bulge and he shook his head. “I can’t have more children. I’d consider it disrespectful to her memory,” he mused, a hand running along his chin and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you, but your jaw snapped shut audibly as your teeth clacked together after the noise passed your lips.

Your father’s eyes flared to life in challenge and he glanced at Namjoon, lip curling. “Did you calculate her estimated cost of living and monthly expenditures? Do you have solid numbers?” he said shortly and Namjoon just nodded, eyes flicking between the family members silently. “And did you adjust for a profit at the margin we discussed?”

“Yes sir,” came the deep steady voice, Namjoon’s eyes traveling your figure, his gaze not heavy with lust or desire, but full of curiosity. “The monthly amount that you should request for that profit is in the proposal if you would like to review it.” He finished and cleared his throat. “I can return if you want me to look over the contract,” he said softly, clearing fishing for a dismissal and your father granted it, offering his hand and you felt your mouth tighten in confusion.

“What contract?”

Namjoon grabbed a briefcase and inclined his head to you stiffly in farewell before his long legs carried him out the doorway. Your father’s gaze didn’t leave your eyes as he spoke. “Yoongi, see him out.” Yoongi nodded and started after the tall man in silence, not sparing you a second glance on his way out.

“I asked you what contract?” you said softly, struggling to keep your voice even as your father stepped closer to you.

“Well, you went out. Spent a lot of money that you’ve done nothing to earn, and caught someone’s eye in the process. Someone worth a lot of money and who would be an asset to have closer to the family at this point in his career.” Your father clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to close the distance between you, each step he made, you felt your heart plummet further.

“Father… what exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Y/N. I’m telling you. Someone’s made a bid for your hand, and it’s the only thing you’ll be good for at this point. The shopping sprees, your lifestyle. I can maintain them, but if someone else is willing to do so, and the marriage benefits me in my business, I’d be stupid not to pursue it. Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?” he said, voice getting dangerously quiet as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped the rapidly put-up ponytail behind your ear.

“You can’t sell me off like fucking cattle!-” you said, flinching away from his touch, and his large, calloused hand shot out to grab your chin tightly. He forced your face back towards his as you tried to jerk away, squeezing hard enough to make your eyes begin to water. Your heart thudded out a dangerous irregular rhythm as you breathed hard through your nose.

“I can’t? Y/N, you seem to be under the delusion that you are free from the responsibilities that come with being in this family. I suppose that may be my fault. I was too soft on you, pitied the losses I caused you to have. I always had your brother anyway; there was no harm in indulging you. But now, you’re the only one with my blood in your veins. You’re home to do a service for this family. Everyone else has given their lives in some way. Did you think you were special?” His words were measured and cold as he studied you, grip not loosening on your face. You would be bruised tomorrow as you felt the throb set in from the pressure he was applying.

“You may order me to do it, but I don’t have to go along with this,” you hissed, barely able to open your jaw, but clenching your teeth to get your words out, rage licking up and down your body. He had taken your entire life as a child, as an adolescent. Did he really think giving you a few years of freedom put you back in his debt so far that you owed him the rest of your life?!

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth you heard the sharp crack, and felt yourself stumbling backwards into the wall. You blinked quickly as you registered the pain in your head, immediately starting to pound as the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You barely had time to regain a semblance of your bearings before your father was upon you again, face chillingly blank as his ringed fingers gripped the base of your ponytail, ripping your head back at an awkward angle, a scream breaching your bloody lips. The noise was cut short by another blow, snapping your head to the side before he jerked your face back to center.

“Who do you think you are, you little bitch?” he said with a lilt to his tone as you choked out a sob, unable to keep it from escaping your lips. “You really thought you weren’t going to do shit to replace that money you spent?” When he finished speaking he gave your head a violent shake, as if to scramble your thoughts further. It was completely unnecessary, as your head felt as if it was splitting with the pain he had rocked through you with his blows and harsh grip. You felt the start of a purely hysterical giggle break through, spitting out the fresh rush of blood that ran in your mouth due to the cuts in your cheek from your teeth. You noticed a piece of the skin from inside your mouth flapping loosely that made you nauseated if you dwelled on it.

The laugh was probably the worst response you could have had.

You heard a soft hiss, and your father stepped into your space further, hands darting from your head to wrap themselves around your throat and squeezing. As your hands scrambled to scratch at his hand, his arm, his face, anything, you wished you were surprised at this. You wished you were hurt because you were shocked, but you weren’t. There was blood in the water and he was a shark. He built his life this way.

“You don’t have to go along with this…” he said softly, voice void of emotion, “but you also don’t have to keep living here either. How long will you make it without this family? You’d never make it out of the city.” He mused and continued to squeeze, your vision starting to spot as you tried to draw in any bit of air within the hold he had, the choking heaves under the weight of him making the blood that had pooled in your mouth from his blows spill over your chin grotesquely as it began to stream onto his hand. “So will you behave for once in your fucking life?”

You were hyper aware of the tears streaming down your face as you managed the smallest of nods. You supposed he was right; you had never imagined you would be used in the family in any way. Your entire life had been lonely, and even though you hated it, you had resigned yourself to it. His hands unwrapped themselves from your neck, letting you inhale a burning gasp of air as you slid down the wall, and onto the floor. You coughed and rocked forward onto all fours as the shaking of your body didn’t allow for much more than consciousness.

Your father pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the crimson of your blood off his hand before tossing it to you on the floor. You could barely recognize the quick but unhurried footsteps coming back down the hallway to the office before they stopped short.

“Yoongi, take her upstairs.”

==

The flush from hustling back to his boss’s office drained from Yoongi’s face as his eyes widened at your figure hunched forward onto your elbows on the floor. He watched you hack as your body tried to clear your airway. Yoongi stayed silent as he reached down, crouching next to you and attempting to offer you a hand so you could stand on your own, for which you were thankful. You felt the physical pain, but no emotions as your mind sluggishly screamed at you to just accept his hand and stand. You needed to walk out of here on your own. You knew you wouldn’t make it all the way to your room after the assault, but you didn’t need to. Just to the elevator.

You reached out your hand, shaking hard, as you clasped at his large palm and hoisted yourself up, letting him pull lightly as he stood with you, noting that he was still silent. You tried to ignore how your vision swam before you, willing your knees not to buckle. You couldn’t pinpoint if the unsteadiness was from the blows to your face, the lack of oxygen, or the tears that had thankfully stopped streaming down your face but still filled your eyes.

Yoongi seemed to read your mind, shifting his grip from your hand to your upper arm, nestling in your underarm and gently steered you to the door, but let you support most of your weight on the way out. You walked in silence as he didn’t rush you down the hallway, both of your eyes trained on the lift door as he typed in the code. As you waited for the door to open you felt your shaking legs betray you and start to bend. You glanced away from him, the movement of your eyes causing a piercing pain to shoot through your head. “Please,” was all you rasped wetly as you put more weight and started to sink, but the pressure holding you up immediately doubled, Yoongi’s support forcing you upright, even if it made your shoulder raise. It would be almost imperceptible from your father’s office if he was still looking in your direction, but you doubted he would. He had already received your submission; he didn’t need you for anything else.

Yoongi didn’t seem to want to take the chance that he was still watching, stepping into the elevator and continuing to only hold you in one place. His grip was still disguised as if he was walking you out in the same way he may escort an associate who was no longer welcome - in such a manner that would deter any further escalation. No one would be able to tell he was the only thing keeping you upright.

As the door slid shut to the elevator the facade crumbled, you lurching forward and gasping out a sob of pain, tilting your head down to let the blood that had been collecting in your mouth pour out onto the floor. You forgot how much mouth wounds bled. Yoongi was not bothered with the grotesque display as he swiftly adjusted his grip to wrap around your shoulders, his other arm sweeping at your feet as he lifted you with apparent ease. You shut your eyes as the tears began to flow once more, unable to restrain the moans and whimpers of pain that escaped between gasps as you cried. He still hadn’t said a word, even as you turned your face into his suit jacket, inhaling jaggedly as you tried to focus on the scent permeating from him, trying to place it through your snot-filled nose. The only thing you could recognize was the warm, woodsy scent of patchouli as you reached a shaking hand up to hold onto his jacket tightly. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it grounded you all the same.

You tried to slow your breathing, but failed as the elevator door opened and Yoongi strode quickly to your bedroom door, bending at the knees and somehow using his crook of his elbow and his body to turn the door knob, the only change in your positioning being that you tilted slightly as he spun it. He kicked the door with his foot gently as he stepped in, by-passing your bed as he carried you into your bathroom, carefully getting on his knees as he lowered you into your large bathtub as he placed you there. You continued to breath quickly, your gasps becoming sharper as your gentle shaking soon became uncontrollable. You released his jacket as he stood and you pulled your knees to your chest, shutting your eyes finally as you heard the tap briefly run before a cool rag brushed your chin, eyes flying open as you flinched away.

“Shh, I need to see your face. I have to get the blood off,” Yoongi whispered, and you finally looked at him, noting his face was still paler than normal. “Princess, I need you to take a slow, deep breath okay? Can you do that? Your lips are turning blue; you’re hyperventilating. You’re safe,” he murmured, brows pinching together in a pained expression you had never seen on his face as you tried to nod, attempting to take a long breath in but ended up gulping in air multiple times on the way, the blurring of your vision worsening as Yoongi grimaced, your breathing speeding up again, your shoulders shrugging with the effort to take in air. The last thing you heard was Yoongi’s tense exclamation of “Shit!” before you blacked out.

==

When you awoke, you were under the covers of your large bed. You sat up quickly before groaning from the ache in your head, then realizing that opening your mouth made you want to scream from pain. Between the squeeze on your jaw and the cuts inside your mouth, it was safe to say you would be saying very little for a while. You glanced towards the window, noting it was inky black outside.

“How long has he hit you?” came a cool voice from beside your bedside and you turned to face the source, seeing a figure standing beside the small table, casting a shadow with the aid of a lamp. Had he even left? Yoongi had shed his stained suit jacket, but still wore the white shirt and same suit pants. You only knew it was the same shirt due to the blood stain from where your mouth must have painted him. Instead of attempting to speak, you shrugged in an attempt to get his gaze off of you. It was piercing and unnerving. You felt as if this was the beginning of an interrogation, and you didn’t fail to notice the color had still not returned to his normally pale face. Now that your mind was a bit clearer you were able to recognize why it registered so deeply with you. He was the embodiment of white with fury. “How. Long?” he said again with such harshness you swallowed hard, ignoring the fire that licked down your throat as you did so.

“That’s a joke right? He’s always been like that. I just normally am better at avoiding it,” you forced out; your words were almost incoherent as you tried to move your jaw as little as possible as you spoke. That was bearable. Good. Not that you had expected it to be, but at least your jaw wasn’t broken; that would have been a pain in the ass. “What time is it?”

“It’s three am,” Yoongi hissed as his eyes glimmered in the near darkness, pushing off the wall and grabbing a glass of water off the table and sweeping a few pills into his hand. “Take these.” You took his offering and a small sip of the water before carefully throwing the pills to the back of your throat and washing them down, sighing softly. “They’re pain pills. They’ll help and you’ll be able to go back to sleep in a bit.”

You didn’t answer but pulled back the cover of your bed and slid out, noting that your bloody shirt had been changed but you still had on your sports bra and leggings. And your ponytail had been taken down, which was probably a good thing since your scalp was still aching from the hold your father had you in.

“Y/N… don’t.” Came Yoongi’s voice, still unemotional but a bit gentler than his earlier tone. You didn’t turn back to him but stopped your path to your vanity, obviously trying to look at your reflection in the mirror to assess the damage.

“Is it that bad?” you grumbled, turning to him and you watched him shrug.

“It’s not good. Don’t worry about it tonight. No bones are broken from what I can tell. I wiped you down the best I could. Just change once I leave and get back into bed.”

You let out a deep breath but finally stepped towards your closet instead to grab an oversized t-shirt. You could work the bra off under it and slip your pants off once you had it on. “Why did you even stay?” you said softly as you set to work, your muscles aching as you attempted to change modestly. You don’t know why it even mattered, but in this moment it did.

“I needed to know if he had done this before. I needed to know if this was the first time. When we were kids, you weren’t around all the time. Sometimes, I’d go months without seeing you. I didn’t know if this was a part of it,” he spat out, visibly tensing as he took a loud steadying breath.

You shrugged as you pulled off your leggings, successful in stripping your bra off under the shirt, and padded back to your bed. “There were a few reasons he kept me separated from everyone. It wasn’t all because he thought I was too precious to see any of this.” You climbed back into bed and tried to settle back into the plushness. Yoongi took a step closer to you, his mouth slightly open as he watched you try to get comfortable, seemingly unable to stop himself.

“Y/N…” he said softly and reached a hand towards you and you stiffened, eyes narrowing, and he took note, dropping his hand slowly.

“Yoongi, I never asked for your fucking pity.”

“I know, and it makes me want to help you even more.”

You blinked and tried to register what he was implying. “Help me?” you repeated, shaking your head as you felt the same hysterical laugh bubble up that had made your assault that much worse in your father’s office. “No one can help me!” You laughed, eyes widening as the smile twisted your features. “This is my life, this is what I was born into. This is what all those shiny things cost, Yoongi! I always knew it but I forgot.” You watched as the pained expression from earlier slid back over his features, and you raised your eyebrows in response. “I appreciate it, but unless you’re willing to put a bullet in my fucking head there’s no saving anything.”

“Who says it has to be your head, Princess?” he said gently and you swear you felt the world stop.

“Don’t say shit like that Min,” you hissed, baring your teeth and shaking your head. “Even if we don’t always get along, I don’t want you dead too.”

“Whatever you say Princess,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright to sleep? You don’t feel like you’re going to vomit?” he asked seriously, watching as you shook your head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you grumbled but as you watched him smirk and go to grab his jacket you felt your heart speed up. “Yoongi- w-wait.” He immediately stopped, as if he was anticipating your words. “Can you stay here the rest of the night? I know he won’t do anything but I-”

“Let me go change my clothes. Is that okay Princess?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to be-”

“It’s fine Y/N. I’ll be right back.” You stayed sitting up, watching him as he dismissed your attempts at explanations and justification as he walked out.

You sighed, leaning against the leather headboard and let your breathing even out, even as your heart still raced. The pain began to slowly ebb as the medication took effect; what had you even taken? It had to be something strong as a comfortable fog began to cloud your thoughts.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to have him here. Did you even need to explain? He was technically your bodyguard. You had known each other most of your lives. You had just suffered through an assault; staying with you was reasonable. Even if the assailant wasn’t unknown, nor were the motives. At the end of the day, Yoongi’s presence made breathing a bit easier. His presence made you feel safe.

The door opened again and you sucked in a breath as Yoongi re-entered your bedroom, one hand carrying his gun and holster, the other a hanger with a clean pressed suit. “I’ll wake up before you,” was all he said in response to your surprised expression as he studied you. He mistook the shock on your face as being accredited to the suit. He was an idiot if he thought you cared about the fact he would dress here. You were too busy drinking in the sight of his lean figure in low-slung grey sweatpants. You tried to rip your gaze back to his face but you got caught on the black ribbed tank top and the swirling black tattoos covering his shoulder and chest before disappearing under the material.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” you choked out, feeling your face flush and mentally slapping yourself. He may look like sex on legs, but you looked like you just had the shit beat out of you. Which to be fair to yourself, you actually just had the shit beat out of you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, a small smirk tilting his lip up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He draped his suit over the chair to your vanity and carried his gun with him towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room.

“The bed is big enough Min. I won’t touch you,” you said breathlessly, trying to force away the blush that was deepening across your face. He seemed to freeze and take a few steadying breaths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Princess.” His voice was controlled but quiet.

“Please Yoongi…” you said just as quietly. “It’s just for tonight. I won’t feel safe if you’re all the way over there.”

It was definitely an over exaggeration. You hadn’t really expected him to even agree to stay in your room with you. The chair was the reasonable option. You knew you were pushing it.

“Princess, I-” He breathed, the airiness of his tone making your belly somersault and it gave you a tiny shiver.

“Yoongi, please. I need you next to me. Just tonight.” You shouldn’t be so worried about getting this man into bed with you, but now that he was here in front of you and it was so close to happening, you felt you might cry if he denied you.

You watched his back muscles rippled as he tensed and tried to relax. He turned wordlessly and walked to the opposite side of the bed, setting his holster down and climbing into the king-sized bed with you. “Go to sleep Princess.”

The drugs had to be prescriptions, not that you really expected a member of an organized crime family to just take a regular aspirin when they were in pain. “Is the oxy working yet? It should start soon if it hasn’t.” You hummed your assent as you squirmed down into the bed and tried to keep the smile from your face as you reached over and turned out the lamp. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, savoring the heat that quickly built from having two bodies under the covers of your bed, ignoring the slightly annoyed sigh from the other side of the bed.

“Be quiet Min, I’m trying to rest,” you said softly and a soft dry chuckle cut through the silence as you let sleep take you.

==

Yoongi’s POV

Yoongi listened to the soft sounds of your breathing as they lengthened and deepened, the pain pills having done their job perfectly. If only he could have done his job in such a manner. He had been given a job: to keep you safe, and he took it seriously. Even if the one assigning his work was an abusive piece of shit. Yoongi let out a sigh, glancing over at your figure in the dark to make sure his huff hadn’t disturbed your slumber. It didn’t. You were still laying there, eyes closed and unaware, your face turned towards him to afford him a view of what exactly your father had done in his absence.

He felt his teeth grind against each other as even in the dark, he could make out the near black bruises covering your neck in the clear shape of hands, a bloom crossing your smooth cheek as well. Even your chin and jaw were dark from bruising; evidence that your father had held your face to force submission. It had worked. He opened his mouth and stretched his own jaw to try and stop himself from continuing to grind his molars down to nothing in rage. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget how you looked and how he felt when he entered the office, watching the blood drip onto the floor. How he wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his gun and lodge a bullet into your father’s knee before proceeding to swing the butt of his gun down onto him until he shattered every bone in the pig’s disgusting face.

Until he begged him to stop. Until he begged his daughter to tell Yoongi to stop.

The daydream made Yoongi smile a full gummy smile and chuckle for the first time today. He would stop when you told him to. If you told him to. Now that he knew your father had put his hands on you before this, he wondered if you would just let him continue until his mania at seeing what had been done to you was sated. He knew it wouldn’t be until he heard your father’s death rattle, knowing it had been at his own hands.

You stirred slightly to readjust in your sleep, drawing his attention back to the present as you moved closer to him in the bed and he sucked in a breath. Even beaten and bruised you affected him. Even carrying you in that elevator down the hall as you clutched onto him. He had been spiraling down into violence but as soon as you grabbed his jacket, he knew you wouldn’t withstand even him raising his voice to anyone without shattering. You were normally so fierce and seeing you broken made him want to tear apart this entire society you both lived in, even if it was all either of you had ever known.

It was then he had decided he would be what you were asking of him with your sobs and how you clutched onto him; he would be as gentle as could be and give you whatever you needed tonight. Tomorrow he would begin the undertaking of dismantling your father piece by fucking piece.

He had watched over you after you passed out; you had woken up briefly for him to get you to take pain medicine once before you actually were able to speak to him. Before you asked him to stay with you. He wanted to pretend it didn’t make his icy heart crack, the way you tried to explain and justify his presence. He would never ask you to in this kind of situation. When Yoongi returned to his room, he attempted to steel himself for a night of sitting in that uncomfortable chair, and a sleepless day tomorrow. He had gone more than twenty-four hours without sleep before.

But when your eyes, even if they had started to become glossy and dilated from the drugs, began to run over him, he had to try and think of every unsexy thing he could fathom. You had just been fucking violated and just with one look he felt the blood travel away from his brain and pool below his waist. Why did he think he would be able to wear sweatpants while staying with you? You destroyed every semblance of self control he had. He still hadn’t forgotten your teasing in the elevator prior to this shit show.

Then your soft drowsy voice had called out to him just as he had regained his mental fortitude and continued to the chair. You would be the fucking death of him and he didn’t think he would really mind. Now, as he laid here in bed with you trying to ignore the fact that you were shifting closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth, he closed his eyes. He had anticipated the pure fury of tonight keeping him awake, but instead it was the fact that he could feel your breath on his neck, that if he turned his head back to you he could still make out your absolutely gorgeous feminine form from under the blankets. The dip in your waist and the curve of your hips, sloping into your soft thigh. Yoongi’s eyes shot open as he let out a soft hiss as he felt his member stiffen in his sweats, one large hand reaching down to palm himself, and he willed his hard-on to disappear.

He dropped his eyes again, confident he would get his bulge to go down without waking you, and as he tended to it, a soft small hand reached across his middle, making his forehead furrow. He tried to take a steadying breath, and tried to not imagine that the events of last night weren’t the reason he was in your bed. That you had just invited him to bed because you wanted him there, not for security but because you wanted him as a man to share your bed and body. That he could roll over to face you, slip his own hand up that oversized shirt and rub soft circles into your skin before slipping his hand down in-between your thighs.

Yoongi felt his cock twitch and himself harden further, forcing another deep breath in and out as he circled back to try and think of grotesque things to make his longing subside. You at least had stopped wriggling in the bed in an attempt to get closer; he was thankful for that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to calm his heart and regulate his breath to make it possible for him to drift off.

This was going to be a long night.

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

Fighter (Lover)

Call me fighter, I'll mop the floor with you

Call me lover, I'll take you for a drink or two

You'll get older, and maybe then you'll feel some control...

-

HOO longest thing i've ever written lads :V hope y'all enjoy! title/description based on fighter by jack stauber bc i thought it was very fitting lol

-

Engie let out a strangled yell as he finally managed to land a solid hit on RED's Spy with his wrench, the familiar sound of crunching bone and the squelches of blood that accompanied it filling the air and splattering his overalls in French flavored crimson.

Not a very pretty way to die, and he almost felt bad for the fella, knowing from.... rather painful experience how excruciating it was to go through respawn after having your skull caved in. But almost was the keyword here, especially considering the fact that the bastard had unfortunately managed to sap both his dispenser and his sentry in the process, leaving him not only vulnerable to his fellow REDs but without the resources to actually get things up and running again.

What was extra unfortunate was that before he could get to either of them, they'd both managed to practically destroy both affected buildings, causing his dispenser to spark and sputter to a halt and his sentry to explode, sending components and pieces of shrapnel flying everywhere and barely giving Engie a chance to shield himself while hanging on to less than half of his health points.

Great. Just great.

He let out an annoyed grumble, anger rising in himself as he began to at least attempt damage control by basically tearing the sapper off of his dispenser with his bare hand. He didn't even care about all the little metal bits in his skin that tore through his shirt and were starting to make blood ooze out, staining his already sullied uniform. What he cared about was making sure that RED didn't take their final point and not having sentry up, even if it was just a level 1, was going to make that exceedingly difficult.

That being said, if he made it out of this alive, he was gonna have a field day getting all these stains out he mused to himself as his pried open the side panel of his dispenser. He reached for his toolbox, rummaging around for his wire cutters, twist on connectors, and a new set of wires to replace the ones the sapper had fried as he heard a chorus of bullets being fired from somewhere around the next point over.

He frowned. Those were much closer than they were 15 minutes ago. Better pick up the pace.

With a deft hand, he pulled out the wires and snipped out all the unsalvageable ones, tossing them in his toolbox to properly dispose of later. Twist on connectors wasn't exactly a Good fix to all the problems he knew that damn shock box had caused, but it would be good enough to last him until the end of the round.

...He hoped, at least.

After making quick work of the internals and closing the panel back up, he flipped the switch back on, waiting a few agonizing moments before the dispenser beeped at him a few times and whirred back to life.

Engie let out a weary sigh of relief as it slowly started healing his wounds, giving it a couple whacks with his wrench to get it into somewhat working order. It may have been knocked back down to level 1, but hey, at least it actually started up again! Finally, he had one thing was working in his favor!...

...But only the one thing. Now was the issue of getting his sentry back up, and with his dispenser back at level 1, just waiting around for metal wasn't exactly going to be an option this time.

After scanning the battlefield a few times, a disgruntled noise escaped him. Pyro was nowhere to be found. Just his luck. He grumbled to himself more as he picked his dispenser up and moved it to where he thought it would be at least a little less visible so he could go search for an ammo kit himself, keeping a hand on his pistol and his wits about him as he ventured into a nearby building.

He hated to leave any of his buildings unattended without Pyro around to cover for him (usually in return for a joyride into town the following weekend along with the sugariest fruit flavored item they could get from the local candy store), but he really didn't have the time to sit around and hope for the Chance that they'd 1). be in his field of view and 2). not be too busy to play guard dog for 5 or so minutes (5 minutes they could very understandably use to set some REDs running for the hills. or a fire extinguisher).

And as much as he would love to just waltz into BLU's resupply and pick up all the things he needed with little to no effort, he was currently stationed at second to last and the time it would take him to get there and back would be more than enough time for the REDs to not only destroy BLU's hopes and dreams but also to give way for his teammates to complain about how he hadn't been there to defend them.

(As if he wasn't doing enough for this damn team already.)

So taking a gamble with getting an ammo box was objectively his best bet at the moment. Was he happy about it in any metric? Absolutely not. Sure, he knew his way around the place and he actually knew that the building he was currently in housed the largest ammo kit you could find out in the field, but he also knew that other people knew that too. And that meant that there was a very real chance of running into one of them and not only failing to defend BLU's points and having to put up with his teammates' negging but also dying and gettin sent through respawn in the process.

But that's as if anything was really going his way today.

He hopped up the wooden stairs two at a time, knowing that the ammo kit was somewhere up on the top floor. He'd actually passed by the Medkit on the first and as tempted as he was to heal himself up a little, he also knew that any more time he wasted in there was time that could be used getting a sentry back up.

When he'd reached the second floor, the ammo box was just where he expected it to be, sitting next to a window that looked out over the battlefield, giving him a front and center view of BLU's second to last point. He could just about see a sliver of his dispenser, silently relieved that it was still there. From what he could see, RED and BLU were still fighting it out over the mid point, both teams having captured and then recaptured it several times already, only for the other to take it back.

Currently, it was still BLU's but something told him that if he didn't hurry, that was going to change soon.

He quickly scooped up the ammo box, eyebrows furrowing when the top of it came off with relative ease. Odd. You usually need to do at least a little prying with these suckers to get the tops to pop off. He then rummaged around in it to make sure it had what he needed, confusion deepening when he realized that there weren't any syringe cartridges in the box.

And that's when he heard a slight rustling from somewhere just out of his peripheral vision.

He immediately dropped the box, bullets and miscellaneous parts spilling everywhere as he turned around and reached for his pistol.

However, he ended up getting a spray of syringes to the arm, letting out a strained cry as he instead grabbed his pistol with his other hand and randomly fired it in the direction of where the syringes had come from.

His guesswork was pleasantly met with a very loud "FUCK", his eyes finally focusing on a very irritated looking RED Medic who now sported a bullet wound in his non dominant shoulder.

"You wanna dance? Let's fuckin' tango, buddy," Engie muttered mainly to himself, only just about bearing the pain as he tore anywhere from 4-7 syringes out of his arm and dropped them to the floor.

He tried to shoot his newfound opponent again but his bullets made splinters rather than punctured flesh, Engie fully aware that his normally serviceable aim was probably off thanks to the searing pain in his... well, everything, cursing under his breath regardless.

However, before he could even process what to do next, the enemy Medic made a dive for him, the two of them tussling to the floor and struggling with each other for the right to end someone's life.

Engie was able to momentarily able to wiggle his arm out of the other's grasp, managing a solid hit on RED Medic's face that he was pretty sure ended up breaking his nose.

That really only seemed to make him angrier though, the two of them continuing to wrestle it out until Medic finally managed to come out on top, having practically straddled Engie's chest as he pinned down both of his arms to the ground. The both of them struggled to take in air, Engie still making feeble attempts to escape his captivity with little success.

If this weren't a life or death situation, he probably would've told RED Medic that he was rather handsome, even with a broken nose and blood dripping out his mouth and onto Engie's shirt. Truth be told, Engie had always thought him attractive and if the two of them weren't enemies by uniform color, he probably would've asked him if he wanted to go out for a drink some time.

But even if life or death prevented him from attempting to woo the man who he'd just shot, Engie couldn't help but be immensely frustrated with himself, eventually just letting out a wheeze of defeat as he gave out from exhaustion.

"Just- just fucking do it please, I'm really not goddamn having it right now," He growled out, causing RED Medic to squint and tilt his head at him. After all, it wasn't every day that your enemy practically begged you to off them after they (quite understandably) just tried to strangle you.

"Hey, Stitches, you hear me? Just cut my head off or steal my organs or whatever, make my godawful day into an even more godawful one," He reiterated, Medic unable to suppress a chuckle despite how tired he was.

"Sorry- steal your organs? Do you really think I'm going to do that?" He grinned incredulously.

"Dunno. You just seem like the type," Engie said dryly, Medic letting out a cackle.

"Well just because you made me laugh, I'll make this quick. You don't seem particularly happy right now," Medic vocalized, shifting so that he could pin both of Engie's arms down with one hand and reach for Engie's pistol that had gotten knocked out of his grasp in their scuffle with the other.

Stronger than he looks. Engie couldn't tell if his heart beating faster because he was literally about to die or because an item was added to the list of "reasons why I want to take my enemy out to dinner."

...Might be both.

"Golly gee, what gave that away?" Engie deadpanned, feeling the muzzle of his own pistol pushing against his forehead. RED Medic chuckled again.

"No hard feelings, right my friend?" he smiled at him, almost apologetically. At least Engie thinks it's apologetically. Kinda hard to tell with all the blood that wasn't in his body.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself.

"Nah. None at all."

...

BANG!

...And not even 20 seconds later, he suddenly materialized in BLU's main respawn room, immediately grimacing from the skull splitting headache he was saddled with; the unfortunate side effects of being shot in the head. Respawn could only do so much, after all.

He moved to open the resupply cabinet to just get what he needed and get the hell out of there before he was startled by the intercom crackling to life, Engie's stomach sinking when he heard the very familiar "YOU FAILED" accompanied by almost comically sad music.

Had he really been gone that long? He didn't even hear the Admin announcing that mid had been capped, let alone second to last, and surely he would've heard it even if he was being held up by RED's local handsome devil.

But his teammates slowly filing in with various injuries seemed to confirm their defeat, Engie sighing as he reached into the cabinet for a bottle of aspirin instead of a case of bullets.

"Hrr Mrnrph!" Pyro mumbled out as they made their way in, Scout with his arm around their shoulders for support as he hobbled in as well.

"Yo, Engie, where the hell were you?" Scout frowned, clearly peeved about losing that day's round.

"Yeah, maggot, we thought you were on second to last! Their damn Scout somehow slipped by us and ended up capping both of ours after RED capped mid again," Soldier added, Engie sighing. Of course this was going to be blamed on him.

"Sorry, fellas. Spy managed to sap both my sentry and my dispenser and their Medic got me when I was tryin' to get supplies. I was hoping y'all would be able to hold mid long enough for me to get back but that. Obviously did not happen."

"Oh, so it's our fault now?"

"Hey, I'm not sayin' it's anyone's fault, I'm just sayin' that they got the best of us today. We'll give it another go tomorrow, like we always do."

Scout obviously seemed unhappy by the notion but decided it best to shut his trap when Demo gave him A Look because even Scout knew that Demo was not one to fuck with. Engie knew he didn't actually intend real harm, he just tended to run his mouth with things he didn't necessarily mean. Didn't make his life any easier, though.

"Listen, I think we've all had a long day. Let's just get patched up an' relax before tomorrow," Demo interjected, the rest of the team making various sounds of agreement as the final members of their menagerie made their way in.

As he walked past, Medic gave him a conciliatory look that Engie could only give him a knowing smile in return for. They both knew what it was like for the entire team's failure to be blamed on their shoulders alone. Usually it was Medic who received the brunt of it, especially when he'd just been transferred in, but Engie was no stranger to complaints on his off days about how he should've been better or how could've done more.

It made him want to tear his own ears off. Not only because it was annoying as all hell because you didn't see him out here blaming the entire team's loss on one damn person's slip up, but because it was the kind of shit that he told himself when he was younger and it brought him back to times he didn't necessarily want to remember.

He was suddenly brought out of his brooding by Pyro walking up to him, Scout seemingly having limped his way back into base on his own.

"Mrr rrhrrh hrrph phr nrr rphmm hrr rr phrrhrrk phr rrr," They mumbled out sadly, holding their arms out to offer an apology hug and very much looking like a kicked puppy. Engie let off a soft "aw."

"Shucks, Firefly, it ain't your fault. Can't expect ya to baby me all the time, can I?" He joked, pulling them in anyways. Only a monster could refuse Pyro hugs, after all.

Pyro squeezed him tightly, nearly lifting him off the ground despite the fact that they were only a couple inches taller than he was as Engie was momentarily overwhelmed with the familiar scent of kerosene and singed rubber.

When they finally let go, Engie gave them a gentle pat on the head.l

"You go inside now, hey? I gotta check if my dispenser's still out there and you probably got your own injuries you should have Doc look at," He told them, Pyro nodding at him and giving him an affirmatory wheeze. They then gave him another quick squeeze before waddling their way inside, boots squeaking every so often.

Engie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Oh well. Nothing he could do now but prep for tomorrow.

He sat in respawn for a little while waiting for the aspirin to kick in and only decide it was time to get going when he finally felt like his brain wasn't trying to squeeze itself down his spinal cord.

After making the trek to second to last, he was pleasantly surprised to see that his dispenser was still on. And also there at all.

(To be fair, RED and BLU had been fighting over mid for so long that RED's Scout probably hadn't bothered to destroy what wasn't shooting at him in a desperate attempt to end the godforsaken match already. He couldn't say that he'd blame him.)

He was also surprised, though not as pleasantly, to see someone waiting for him. Specifically, someone in glasses and a tie that, even though it was covered in blood, had a face that was both painfully smug and oddly endearing.

Though they were technically now in ceasefire until battle tomorrow, he still instinctively reached for his pistol, blinking and looking down when he realized his holster was empty.

"I believe you're looking for this?" RED Medic asked as he picked said pistol up off of his dispenser, Engie nodding cautiously.

"Relax, dummkopf, I'm not going to shoot you. The bullet that was in your head was actually the last one in the magazine anyways," Medic snorted, demonstrating by pulling the trigger while pointing the weapon to the ground and coming up with nothing but empty clicks.

Regardless, he still offered it to Engie butt first, Engie himself still wary but a little less hesitant as he took a few more steps forward and took it in his hand.

"Apologies. I actually meant to put it back into your holster before you went through respawn but I didn't have adequate time. You pack quite a punch," Medic smirked lightly, Engie's attention suddenly being drawn to his still broken nose.

He grinned sheepishly.

"Heheh, yeah, mama taught me well... No hard feelin's though, yeah?" Engie sticking his pistol in its place and his hand out to the doctor, Medic letting out an amused huff at his own words being used against him.

"No hard feelings," He assured, shaking Engie's hand.

"I should probably be off now, I can practically hear my gaggle of idiots begging me to heal their boo boos from all the way out here," He then snorted, Engie letting out a chuckle.

"All good. I should prolly get the ol' girl back to the workshop. Damn sappers always do a number on the internals," He grimaced, thinking about all proper rewiring and circuit board replacement he was going to have to do, not to mention normal maintenance and cleanup.

"As I've heard. Our own Engineer has some particularly... colorful words on what he thinks of your Spy."

"Bit of a wily bastard, that one. Can't say I blame him," Engie shrugged, leaning against his dispenser for support and suddenly feeling face flush as Medic did the same, the two of them now so close that their elbows touched in the middle.

If Medic noticed, he didn't immediately let on, merely smiling at him.

"That we can all agree on, I think. What is it with Spies and deciding to be bastards? Is it a profession thing, does it just come naturally to them?" He said mirthfully, leaning in close enough that their noses were close to touching.

...Never mind, he absolutely noticed.

"'s gotta be, right? I mean, it's the only explanation for why they're all so dickish. That or the ones we've been in contact with just happen to be persnickety lil fucks," Engie grinned, Medic laughing loudly in response.

It only made him grin even wider. Medic's laugh had to be in a class of its own. Borderline obnoxious in nature but somehow brash and unapologetic while still being absolutely ridiculous.

Man, was it just something to die for (which he.. technically supposed he did).

"Ah, look at me, babbling about. I really should get going before I waste any more of your time," he said when giggles finally stoped threatening to rise out of his throat, Engie feeling a sudden pang of disappointment in his chest. He merely waved him off with a soft "shucks, weren't nothin'" as he tipped his hat, Medic giving him a firm pat on the shoulder.

"It was nice talking with you, Herr Engineer. Perhaps we can meet again some time," He smiled before turning to make his leave.

Engie closed his eyes. This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea, don't do it, don't do it Dell, don't FUCKING do it-

"Hey, uh. Stitches."

Medic paused before turning around again.

"Are you... free this weekend?"

An amused glint suddenly appeared in Medic's eyes.

"Well seeing as we all have weekends off, yes, I should be. Why do you ask?"

"You, uh. You wanna grab a drink with me, this Saturday, maybe? I know this pretty good place not too far out and uh. I dunno, 'd be fun to uh. See ya again outside of work, I guess," Engie stumbled out, putting a hand on the back of his neck.

"...I'd like that. I'd like that a lot," Medic smiled, Engie's face lighting up.

"Great! Uhm. I uh, I guess. Meet me on y'all's second to last at about 6? I know how to avoid all the cameras, so," Engie offered, Medic raising an eyebrow at him.

"...Hey, when you live out your days fighting people to the death for an old dinosaur who would skin you alive and turn you into the coat given the chance, finding out where her cameras and all their blindspots are isn't that much of a hassle. We're actually in one right now. Wouldn't've asked you out otherwise," He shrugged, Medic holding his hands up in response.

"I'm not one to judge. Whatever gets me out of playing team mama for the night. I'll just tell them I joined a book club or whatever. And if they don't believe me... well I think a saw to the skull might convince them," Medic said, suddenly pulling out his Ubersaw with a malicious grin.

Engie had to physically restrain himself from saying "hot" in response.

"Heheh, yeah, I bet it might. I'll uh. See you later then," He coughed out, moving to put his dispenser into compact mode and pack it back into his toolbox.

When he stood up with it resting on his shoulder, however, Medic was standing right in front of him, nearly causing it to slip out of his hands.

Medic barely stifled a laugh at his shock, gently removing his hardhat and leaning down to give him a kiss on the forehead.

"It's a date then," He hummed cheerily before putting Engie's hardhat back on his head and making his return to RED, leaving Engie with his hat slightly askew and his face moderately flushed.

And that's when if hit him. A date. He had just asked his actual, literal enemy who had shot him in the head about 30 minutes ago, on a date. And he said yes.

He didn't know if he wanted to scream, punch something, or throw himself off a bridge. Probably all three, if he was honest.

Despite all that, he practically forced himself to turn around and begin making his way back to BLU, readjusting his tool box every so often so it wouldn't slip out of his hands. What the hell was he doing, breaking contract like this? He means sure, he wasn't particularly one for rules anyhow, he's pretty sure he's committed more than a few atrocities against the heavens in his lifetime, and the Admin wasn't always on his case for every little infraction he'd ever made anyways. But between her and God, it was the Admin he feared more and he knew that if there was one rule that the she enforced, it was that cross faction relations were NOT tolerated and were more than a warrant for termination.

Termination of contract or termination of your life? Depended on how nice she was feeling that day.

Needless to say, he was very frustrated with himself.

But then he remembered how drop dead (haha) gorgeous Medic was even when he was bleeding all over Engie's shirt and the way hearing his laugh had made him felt and the way that glint made it look like he had stars in his eyes and...

...Aw hell, if he was going to get fired (or die! both was very possible) for this he might as well go down after having had a good time.

Now all he had to do was make it to Saturday. While also not giving anything away.

Piece of fucking cake.

[skellebonez]

You write Tang and Red's dynamic so well! Could I ask for more Tang being a wholesome dad to Red with 7 please?

Tang and TLT Red are really interesting to write like this, I could write 500 prompts of them interacting! I decided to go slightly farther back in the timeline for this one. Like. VERY far back in the timeline. So far back this is how Tang decided he was dad now back.

I am apparently incapable of not writing things that are nearly full length fics right now. This is as long as a chapter of SFAUT.

“Do you need anything else?”

The new routine... or was it a habit? Both? Whatever it was,Tang had decided it was alright, despite the fact it had first started out of a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. How could it not have, with one of the first and most stubbornly determined enemies that had been fighting MK showed up at Pigsy’s Noodle’s after hours with two Bull Clones holding onto the side of his truck, haphazardly packed with boxes they could see through the windows and holding an injured arm?

“As of 6 hours ago I am no longer assisting my parents” was the explanation Red Son had given, short and to the point, when they had all raised their weapons (makeshift in the case of himself and Pigsy) at the sight. No one had believed him at the time, but apparently something made MK stop the demon when he made to leave without another word.

----------

“What do you mean? Why the boxes?” MK asked, gripping onto the back of the demon’s coat. He let go and shrunk his staff when he tugged at it and Red Son took in a sharp breathe of pain. Clearly he didn’t think Red Son was a threat with his injury, “What happened to your arm?”

“My shoulder was dislocated,” Red Son explained in shocking honesty at the last question, turning to look at the group once again in only slight hesitation. Tang realized that he looked... tired. His eyes were red and irritated, it reminded him of how MK’s eyes looked when Pigsy first taught him how to cook and he got a face full of hot broth steam in them. “There was a... complication with some demons that wished to do business with my parents. They have been dealt with.” Tang did not miss how MK’s eyes widened in realization. He must have known was Red was referring to.

“Shouldn’t that be in a sling?” Tang asked without thinking, earning a tight glare from Pigsy and Mei as he lowered the bowl he was brandishing back to the countertop. “What? It’s what you’re supposed to do!” Something was... off. Tang didn’t know what, but something didn’t feel right about this. And not in a ‘this is secretly a trap’ kind of way.

Red Son looked at him oddly, then back down as the arm he cradled in his uninjured one before addressing MK again with an aggravated sigh. “I supposed you’ll find out eventually, you’re persistent like that. I have a... safe house, I suppose you’d call it, hidden away in the mountains far outside the city. Not even my parents know about it. I’m going to stay there. I suppose you could consider me defected to your side from now on, should a large enough problem arise.”

“Did something happen with your parents?” Tang asked, taking a step forward with a raised eyebrow and ignoring the yells of “what are you doin have you lost your marbles!?” from Pigsy and the shocked look from Mei.

The odd look was back on Red’s face, mixed with surprise and anger this time. “NO.”

“Because people usually don’t run off to a safe house their family doesn’t know about and defect to the other side of a conflict unless something happened.” Tang emphasized each of the most important parts of his accusation carefully, hoping that at least MK would pick up on what he was hinting at. The silence behind him told him Pigsy seemed to. “Especially with not a truck packed with what looks like everything they own, and double especially when they take the time to stop to visit someone they hate to tell them goodbye.”

“It-!” Red started to snap, a shaky sigh leaving him as he calmed himself. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Did your parents hurt you?” MK asked softly, a smattering of horror under-toning his words and tang could head Mei choke back a noise behind them. It wasn’t an angry one, and definitely wasn’t happy. Pigsy remained quiet.

“NO!” Red snapped  with his hair ablaze as he turned back to MK, hissing in pain as he jostled his arm. “They wouldn’t-! They-! Not... not like that.” His temper and and hair and voice fizzled out like someone dumping a bucket of water on a campfire and Tang did not miss the implications of those words, whether Red had meant to let them slip past or not.

“You need medical attention,” Tang stated, putting his hand on Red Son’s good shoulder gently. Red Son tensed under his touch. “I cannot in good conscious let you leave without that at least, especially not if you’re telling the truth about not fighting us anymore.”

“Why?” Red asked, odd look back. Tang realized it was confusion. “I know I just said I’m not your enemy, but why are you offering to help me?”

“Because I want to.”

----------

Exactly WHY that managed to work, Tang still didn’t know. But for some reason his words seemed to have struck a chord with Red Son and he agreed to have his Bull Clone driver follow them (them being MK, Mei, and Tang as Pigsy still had to manage the Noodle Shop) to the secret base (or the Sea-Crate HQ) at Sandy’s.

Sandy was shockingly understanding, welcoming him onto his boat for treatment with just the barest explanation. It probably helped that half of Sandy’s cats immediately flocked to the fire demon to run against his legs and his only reaction to them was a hesitant look down as he tried not to step on them.

Red was unusually quiet the entire time, as if he was trying to understand what exactly was happening around him. Mei tried to make snide remarks to get a rise out of him, to just growls and glowers. MK tried to talk to him about anything, mostly Monkey King related questions, but again he got the same reaction. Mei eventually changed her tactic to talking about tech and that got at least some responses from Red. Eventually they just watched as Sandy patched the demon up and all of his cats piled on top of him to the confusion and amusement to everyone.

It wasn’t until Sandy had properly patched Red up that Tang suggested he just stay at the base for the night instead of heading out that everyone not named Red Son seemed to realize what Tang’s real plan was.

Keep Red Son close just in case. Tang did not think Red was lying, not in the slightest. He was acting too off for this to be an act. But he knew that not everyone on Team MK would agree with him. After all, it was easier to keep an eye on your enemy if he was right next to you. But Tang did not think he was lying. Tang thought he needed help.

He seemed at least somewhat impressed by the base but didn’t really say much. Sandy had brought up the important question of “what if DBK and PIF find out you are here?”, to which Red explained that if they discovered he was there they wouldn’t just storm the place and drag him home given demon customs and the like. Using the safe house instead of his penthouse (and wasn’t it a trip to learn he had a penthouse) was more for him to not have to deal with their attempts for as long as possible.

MK and Mei had jokingly told him he owed them for letting him stay and while their reaction to him agreeing to pay them back whatever they liked was amusing, it made Tang wonder exactly what kind of situations Red Son was used to. Where he would have to pay everything done for him back. He seemed to accept their rebuttal that he just needed to promise not to light anything on fire easily enough.

“Do you need anything else?” was his final question to Red before they left him be, trusting the security system and Sandy (and the ocean) to handle anything that may come up. He placed a hesitant hand on Red’s head, something he did for MK and something he hoped would not offend Red Son. He felt the heat of the fire that would flare up his hair. He could feel it fluctuate, heating and cooling and heating again in response to something. Fascination couldn’t be erased from Tang’s face.

Red looked at him with that odd confused look again and said. “No... but... thank you?”

Red Son announced in the morning that he would be staying and would join Team MK.

----------

“Do you need anything else?” Tang asked, placing his hand on Red’s head. This had become... something. Something he just did whenever he could. A way to gauge how Red was feeling and a way to show him he trusted him given how easily his hair flared up. As well as a way to show he did care. They ended the day the same way every time, the question and the gesture one after the other.

“No, but thank you,” was the reflexive response from the fire demon. It was said so much easier now, so much more honestly. Sometimes he would answer with an affirmative, long ago hesitant but now just as easy as saying the sky was blue.

Tang couldn’t have been more proud of Red Son. He was still the proud and loud and showoff-y and fiery tempered demon he always was, but he was also trying to show he wanted to change. Wanted to be a hero now. Red was still unsure of a lot, but he seemed to be molding himself into the entire team well. Even Pigsy had quickly taken a shine to him after he offered to fix his kitchen appliances!

Tang also did not miss how he was starting to forget to call him Mr. Tang now, at very rare times. Whether it was because of MK calling him something else or just how Red Son felt, the scholar wasn’t sure. But hearing Red Son stop and correct himself with a “thanks d-MR. tANG!” was also something. Tang had decided that was alright as well.

DBK, on the other hand, didn’t seem to think it was given his reaction in that last fight when that happened. But Tang couldn’t rightly care what he had to say about it.

[ravs6709]

Of Distant Dreams (That Can't Come True)- Lee Jihye/Na Bori

Read on ao3 here

Spoilers for the epilogue! Takes place throughout the group regression. We barely get to see any of Na Bori in canon, but I still have a lot of feels for Jihye's relationship with her. So many feels in fact, that I actually wrote something that isn't mainly fluff

It's a little messy, but it's not my usual style, so I'm still pretty proud of it

Warnings: Angst, unhappy ending (just to be clear, NBR doesn't die again, but the two of them separate), NBR's death is mentioned a lot (so choking warning), nightmares, mention of skipping meals, ask for other warnings

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Jihye-yah!" The door to Taepung Girls' broadcasting studio slammed open.

Na Bori ran through the entrance, panting. "Jihye-yah, what's going on?" Then she froze, her gaze falling on Han Sooyoung. "Who is this person?"

Lee Jihye noticed that Han Sooyoung looked back and forth between the two girls. Then she stared at Na Bori, and Lee Jihye wondered if she knew who Na Bori was. She could, considering that she'd read the beginning of Ways of Survival. Han Sooyoung may not have known much, but based on the way her eyes widened, she must have known enough. She told Lee Jihye that she'd move on ahead to the other areas, along with some instructions.

"Bori-yah, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the classroom?" Lee Jihye tried to keep her voice neutral, but the overwhelming relief she felt caused her to sound breathy instead. She knew that Na Bori would survive this time, she'd made sure of it, but actually seeing her friend alive … she wanted to cry. She did it. Na Bori didn't die this time.

"I should be asking you that question," Na Bori said, too overwhelmed by what was going on to notice the look on Lee Jihye's face. "Everything that's been going on… the dokkaebi, all the insect eggs, coins and some kind of scenario. You know how that apocalyptist Selena Kim said there was going to be an apocalypse, is this it? And then you came up to me and you…" she took the box out of her pocket. "You gave me this. Jihye, what's going on?"

Lee Jihye didn't know what to say. How was she supposed to tell her that the Lee Jihye she knew no longer existed? That she was from a different worldline, and that she'd killed Na Bori in order to survive? That she has come to this worldline so she could save someone? Sometimes it was a struggle to even look at her, when all she could see was the person that she'd choked to death.

"Bori-yah, it'll be alright," she said, before wincing.

⸢"Jihye-yah, it'll be alright,"⸥ Na Bori had told her.

She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. Then she did it again. "I'll explain everything to you later." How was Master able to do this? How was he able to regress and then look into the eyes of the people he'd cared for, and pretend that everything was okay? How was he able to do this for every regression that he'd lived? "I'll make sure you'll be okay."

Na Bori was not a person who was easily scared, she was probably one of the most fearless people that Lee Jihye knew. But at that moment, she looked terrified. She wanted to hold her tight and whisper assurances, but she couldn't do that. 

"Jihye… please tell me what's going on. You've been acting weird for the past month, and now all this is happening. I'll help you with whatever you're doing. Please crybaby, just tell me."

Lee Jihye wiped her eyes, not realizing that she'd been crying. "That scenario that everyone received earlier," she began. "It's the beginning of something awful. But me and many of the others, we're going to help everyone and clear the scenarios. It'll be okay."

"Was that unnie who left one of the people you know?"

She nodded.

"Will you be staying here?"

She froze. "I'll be here for a little bit, but I'll be gone in a few hours."

She wanted to stay with Na Bori, hold her in her arms while Na Bori would lovingly call her 'crybaby', but she couldn't. She had the scenarios to clear, and this wasn't her Na Bori. The Na Bori from your regression is dead, she reminded herself. It was a painful thought, but enough to get her to concentrate on what was important.

The two of them stayed in the broadcasting room as Lee Jihye awaited the second scenario. She gave out more instructions, advising them to not act rashly, and that everything would be okay. Na Bori sat there silently, and she could feel her gaze on her  but she wasn't able to look back.

After she was finished, she picked up her bag and sword.

"Are you leaving now?" Na Bori asked.

She nodded. "I have to go meet up with the others."

"Okay." And that was it. Except Na Bori walked closer and closer , and Lee Jihye closed her eyes, unable to look at her. A pair of lips pressed against her cheek. "Come back soon, okay?"

The next few seconds were a blur. She had no idea if she'd spoken or merely nodded, before exiting the room. What she did know was that Na Bori had whispered 'I love you, Jihye-yah' and then Lee Jihye was running. Her footsteps were loud, her eyes burning, breaths heavy, and heart pounding. Even then, those four words continuously echoed in her mind, unable to be drowned out.

Once she was no longer able to keep on running, she fell to her knees and cried.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Lee Jihye pulled out a piece of paper to write on. As she wrote, she rested her other hand against her mouth to hide her smile. She reached over to her side and passed the note to Na Bori, careful to make sure that the teacher wouldn't see. Pretending to pay attention to the lesson, she looked at Na Bori, who was reading the note.

Na Bori smiled softly, her eyes sparkling in the evening light. Lee Jihye couldn't help but stare, because she was so beautiful. It'd only been recently since she'd realized that her feelings for her friend were romantic, and ever since, she'd been finding herself staring a lot more often. It probably wasn't a good idea to be staring so much. But every time she saw Na Bori smile at her, the way that their fingers would brush against each other more often, she couldn't help but wonder if her feelings might actually be reciprocated.

A finger tapped her arm, and Lee Jihye blinked, not realizing that Na Bori had already written back. 

'Hey, let's go to the movies tomorrow for lunch,' the note read.

Lee Jihye wrote a reply, then passed the note back. The smile on Na Bori's face was even wider now, and-

There was a flash of light. When it faded, there was a ball of fluff the size of her head with cute black eyes and a mischievous smile. A dokkaebi.

No. Lee Jihye rose to her feet, her chair slamming into the desk behind her. She knew what this was. No. No no no. Not this again.

She ignored the dokkaebi as it spoke, and stood next to Na Bori. "I'll protect you this time," she whispered. "I won't let you die."

She grabbed her arm and the two of them were running around the classroom, ignoring the protests from her teacher. The dokkaebi seemed confused, but it continued on with its speech. She just needed to find something, anything that would allow for the two of them to survive. Hadn't there been an ant problem in the classroom recently? She just needed to find two of them, so they could kill them and clear the first scenario. She already knew how this scenario was going to end, she'd gone through it dozens of times in her head. This time, things would be different.

Except… there were no insects in the classroom, not a single one.

"Jihye!"

She whirled around and saw Na Bori in front of her, gripping a chair that one of her classmates was now using as a weapon. Right. Most of her classmates would try to escape the classroom, only to find a barrier that prevented them from leaving. They'd pound on the doors and hope for a miracle. Some would return to their seats because the teacher instructed it, the teacher would try and assure everyone that everything would be fine, except it wouldn't be. However, some would panic after reading the clear conditions, and they'd try and kill someone so they could live. In the end though, all of them would die, even Na Bori.

This time, we'll survive together, Bori-yah .

Lee Jihye helped Na Bori, and with their combined strength, they shoved the student back, and set the chair down.

"Stay back!" She warned.

The student's eyes were filled with fear, but slowly, she began to back away. Lee Jihye scanned the classroom again, but there was nothing. The countdown was almost up. What was she supposed to do? She could murder one of her classmates, they'd die anyway. She'd ruthlessly killed other people in the later scenarios without hesitation. But still, the thought made her nauseous, maybe it was because these people were ones that she knew . She'd been friends with some of them.

Warm hands gripped her own, and guided them to wrap around a neck.

"Kill me, Jihye-yah," Na Bori said calmly, as the head of one of her classmates' exploded.

"No," she replied. "No! I won't! I won't do it!" She tried to move her hands, but Na Bori pressed down harder, drawing out a cough.

"Jihye-yah, it'll be alright," she rasped. "You must live."

No. No no nonono no! She was stronger now, she could get through this, she would take her hands off of Na Bori's neck and they'd find a way to live, even as more and more of the bodies around her fell, blood gushing.

"You should be allowed to live too!" She screamed, her eyes burned with tears. "You shouldn't have to be the one to make this sacrifice!"

"Please crybaby, live." Somehow, Na Bori pressed down even harder.

Why couldn't she… Why couldn't she find the strength to overpower her? Why couldn't she save her friend just one time? (Distantly, she knew that if she didn't make the kill, she'd die too).

Then, with the last of her breath, she rasped out those haunting words. "I love you, Jihye-yah."

Her body went limp in her hands.

Lee Jihye jolted awake. She wasn't in Taepung Girls' High School, but was underground in a subway station. It was just another nightmare. That same damned memory replayed over and over again.

But why did it always feel so real? Her hands were in front of her, fingers and wrist bent as if she'd actually been choking someone. And she could see the face of Na Bori, her eyes red as she choked. Her hands trembled, but were unable to move.

She knew that this wasn't real, but it still took at least five minutes until the image of Na Bori disappeared, and the phantom weight on her hands was released.

[The constellation 'Maritime War God' would like to assure you that your friend is safe.]

"Thanks, General-nim," she murmured.

It might not have meant that much, but it eased the urge to run back to Na Bori and make sure that she was alright. But she was safe, she was alive.

Lee Jihye stood up and began to walk around through the tunnels. She wanted to run, but it was late at night and she didn't want to wake up other people who were sleeping. She aimlessly wandered, before she saw a man with a black coat sitting against a wall, tending to his sword.

"You should be sleeping, Lee Jihye," Yoo Joonghyuk said, not looking up at her.

"I know, Master," she replied, before sitting down next to him. She stared at the wall in front of her. "How do you do this every regression?"

In this regression, she hadn't opened up to him that much, but he knew her in the previous ones, so he knew what she was referring to. 

"I kept my distance from the people I cared about," he said. "If I didn't become too close to them, then their deaths wouldn't bother me as much."

Lee Jihye knew that. When he'd first met her, he rescued her, gave her a sword, then told her to join him. He helped her survive, but they didn't spend that much time talking, unless it was about the upcoming scenario. He wasn't completely closed off, he often helped her train her skills. But he'd locked his heart away and pretended that he didn't know her.

But she knew that she couldn't do that. She couldn't just pretend that nothing had happened, and it was even harder to do when she was with Na Bori.

"It's difficult, and it doesn't become easier," he continued. "I was only able to look forward. My only goal was clearing the scenarios, that was all I focused on. I'm sorry that I can't tell you something more useful than that."

His hand rested on her back, gently rubbing circles. The parental gesture felt a little odd, coming from him. While she'd heard from Kim Dokja that he'd had a child in the past (meaning, he knew how to be a parent), Master rarely ever acted this gently except to his sister, Yoo Mia. He might not have much advice for her, but he understood her pain, he tried to help, and it did help, even if only a little bit.

She shifted to lay down. She knew she wouldn't fall back asleep easily, but it was better than getting no rest. Master said nothing, he just wordlessly took off his jacket and draped it over her. Sleep didn't come easy, but she didn't have any more nightmares for the remainder of the night.

•~•~•~•~•~•

With all the knowledge that their group had, the scenarios were cleared rapidly. The dokkaebi weren't prepared, so they had more downtime while they waited for the next scenario to be prepared. Often, Lee Jihye went to check on Na Bori, who had joined together with the rest of her classmates. They'd talked a few times, but since they were always in a group, they weren't able to talk about certain subjects. (She could see that Na Bori really wanted to ask her for answers. But she wasn't ready to give them to her just yet, not when looking at her was still so painful).

Of course, Lee Jihye couldn't hold off on having that conversation forever. She'd been going on one of her runs when a second pair of footsteps joined her. She turned to see who it was, surprised to see that it was Na Bori.

"It's been a while since we were able to run like this, Jihye-yah," she said, voice calm, but Lee Jihye could sense something dangerous in her tone.

"It has," she agreed, not knowing what else to say. 

"You know, you could have told me that you were one of those regressors, right? I would've kept it a secret if you needed me to."

She sounded too calm about it, as if she didn't fully grasp what it meant to regress.

Lee Jihye took a deep breath. She had to tell her now. "I'm not the Lee Jihye that you know. She won't ever be coming back."

As she expected, Na Bori froze mid-step, stumbling. Lee Jihye instinctively moved to catch her, but once she noticed their proximity, she backed away.

"Isn't regression like time travel?" Na Bori asked, not saying anything about Lee Jihye suddenly moving away. "It's obvious that you've gone through the scenarios before, and then something bad must have happened, so you and all those people you were with time traveled back to fix everything."

"That's not how it works."

"Then tell me how it works, Lee Jihye! How am I supposed to understand if you don't explain?"

"This world is just one of thousands- maybe millions or billions. Regression is like time travel, but it's not. I'm not from this worldline, my consciousness has just been transported here. The Lee Jihye you know won't be coming back."

Na Bori looked up at her, serious. "And how long have you been here?"

"A month before the scenarios."

"Were your childhood memories different from mine? In your worldline, were we not best friends? Were we not on the track team together? Did I not ever call you a crybaby?"

"All those things did happen. Bu-"

"Then you're still the same person that I know and love. You've changed, but I'm willing to get to know those parts of you. You're always going to be you." Na Bori was shorter than Lee Jihye, but at that moment, she stood so much taller. 

It was like when Lee Jihye was teased for crying when she was younger, and Na Bori told the others off. She was physically weaker, but she had always been stronger. Lee Jihye couldn't handle it.

"When I'm done saving this world, I'm leaving!" She blurted. "I'll be going back to my worldline and you'll never be able to see me again!"

She was crying again , she'd been doing a lot of that recently. Na Bori looked almost broken from her words, her lips trembling, skin pale, and eyes wide. She took a step closer, and Lee Jihye was too shocked to step back. Na Bori cupped her face and wiped away her tears.

"Tell me, crybaby, did something happen to me in your worldline? You're not good at hiding your emotions, did you think I wouldn't notice that ever since you've come here, you flinch every time you look into my eyes or I call you crybaby? Is that why you refuse to skip class with me? Is that why even now, you're still trying to run away?"

Yes! She wanted to scream. "In my worldline, you died in the first scenario," she whispered. "I killed you. I had to live without you for years, and I don't know what to do with myself now that you're right here in front of me."

"I don't blame you for what you've done," Na Bori said, even though she looked almost horrified. "You saved my life this time."

Of course you don't blame me, you told me to kill you. I saved you here, but I couldn't save you in my world.

"When the scenarios are over, before you leave, I want the two of us to have a full day to ourselves, okay?" Na Bori said. "A good day for you to remember. I'm sure she'd want that for you, a day for you to relax and just live ."

⸢"You must live, "⸥ Na Bori had told her on that day.

Lee Jihye slowly nodded. "She would want that."

Na Bori's hand moved from her face to her hand, and squeezed it gently. For once, Lee Jihye allowed for that little bit of physical contact again, and squeezed back.

•~•~•~•~•~•

While the scenarios were a lot easier compared to the first time, it didn't mean that they weren't difficult. Lives were still lost, and there were several close calls for the members of Kim Dokja's Company. As the difficulty began to ramp up more and more, Lee Jihye began to have nightmares that were slightly different from the ones that she'd normally get.

Each one started off differently. Sometimes she was sitting with Na Bori, before one of the dokkaebi created a sub-scenario that was difficult to clear. Sometimes she was fighting with her family, and an outer god would be summoned. Other times, she'd go to Taepung Girls' High School, and would receive the bad news from one of the people in Na Bori's group.

Each one of those nightmares had one thing in common: Na Bori's death. Lee Jihye had managed to save her from dying in the first scenario, but what if she died a different way? What if Lee Jihye wasn't there to protect her? What if she was, but still wasn't strong enough to save her?

Her hands would tremble not unlike they had when she was the one to kill her friend. On one of those nights, when the imagery was particularly graphic, she got up and sought out Na Bori. Her sponsor told her that Na Bori was safe, and realistically, she knew that, but she needed to see that she was okay. Just to see her once, even if it was just her sleeping figure.

As she entered the building where their group was staying, Lee Jihye enabled Ghost Walk so she wouldn't wake anyone up. It didn't take long to find Na Bori. She stood there and watched the rise and fall of her chest, each breath grounding her to reality. She was alive, she was safe.

After a few minutes, Lee Jihye realized what exactly she'd been doing. She turned to leave, then noticed Na Bori shifting, before sitting up.

"Jihye, is that you?" She whispered.

Lee Jihye paused, embarrassed at getting caught. "Y-yeah."

"Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," she lied. "I'll leave now."

"Wait. You've come all the way here, let's go outside for a little bit."

Lee Jihye opened her mouth to say no, that it was fine, but Na Bori was already getting up. She took her hand and led her outside so they could sit down.

"Crybaby," Na Bori murmured. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Lee Jihye nodded slowly. To anyone else, she might not have said anything. But Na Bori had already seen her when she was weak, so she knew she could tell her. "I dreamed that you died again."

"Well, I'm right here. So there's no reason to cry."

Lee Jihye looked down. Na Bori was here, but when it was time to go back to her own worldline, she'd no longer be there.

"Do you want to hold my hand or something? Something to ground you?"

What she wanted was to hold her tight, hide away from all the scenarios. But was it right? It was Na Bori, but not her Na Bori. Her intention was to save Na Bori, that was all she had to do. She couldn't let herself get too close. It was too dangerous, she'd lose sight of everything that she'd been living for over four years.

"I can't. I…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say. In so many worldlines, the two of them were never able to get together because of the first scenario. In this one, they finally managed to both survive, except even now, they'd never be able to have a happy ending together.

"You loved her, didn't you?" she asked. "The same way I love you."

Lee Jihye loved her so much, it hurt. "...I still do." Even years after her death, Lee Jihye continued to love her just as fiercely as she did in the past.

"I know that you said that you'll leave eventually, but shouldn't we make the time we have left memorable? If you need me, I'll help, I want to help you." Her hand moved, and rested next to Lee Jihye's- close but not enough to touch.

It was a deliberate movement, one that gave Lee Jihye the choice of whether she would accept the contact or not? It'd help, it'd relieve some of her stress, knowing that Na Bori was here. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay just this once…

Before she could back down, Lee Jihye rested her hand on top of Na Bori's. She layed down and closed her eyes, hoping to commit the feel of the warm hand to memory.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Lee Jihye thought that the end of this regression would end more happily. They'd managed to save the world once more, but they were unable to save Kim Dokja- the one who they'd all wanted to save.

His soul had scattered across thousands- countless worldlines, and Lee Jihye had no idea what to do. The days that went by were a blur, she hardly ate or slept. All she could think about was Kim Dokja's frail body, just laying there.

"Jihye-yah."

Since they failed, what was going to happen now?

"Jihye-yah."

Was that all? Was it over?

"Lee Jihye!" Na Bori's panicked voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, Bori-yah, were you saying something?"

"Jihye please, you need to take care of yourself. You've skipping meals, haven't you?"

"I'm not hungry," Lee Jihye said. 

"I know I don't understand everything about the guy you wanted to save, only that he meant a lot to you. But would he want you to be like this?"

"It's not like I ever wanted him to sacrifice his f*cking life over and over again! I didn't ask for anyone to sacrifice their life for me!" 

Her throat was hoarse from the lack of use, and the screaming didn't help at all. But what was she supposed to do? Not one, but two people decided that they'd sacrifice their lives. Kim Dokja, and Na Bori from her regression. But all Lee Jihye wanted was to live the rest of her life with the people she loved. Why were they the ones who had to make all the sacrifices?

Na Bori didn't say anything, and while she hadn't done anything, she looked a little guilty.

"I know it wasn't you who did what she did. You're her, but you're still different from her. It's just…" Lee Jihye trailed off.

"Stupid," Na Bori muttered. "I'm here to comfort you and you're comforting me. And I think that… nevermind. You're leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah…" In just one day, she'd be leaving and she'd be going back to her own worldline. She'd be going back to a world where she wouldn't be able to see Kim Dokja, but she also wouldn't be able to see Na Bori again.

But maybe it was for the better. This Na Bori had her own life to live, just like Lee Jihye had hers. She'd love to stay with this Na Bori, but how much of it was to stay with her best friend, compared to the idea of having a Na Bori? She was Na Bori, with all the same memories that the one that she knew had, but they weren't the same, no matter how much she wanted to think otherwise. Not for the first time, she reminded herself that the Na Bori she knew was dead.

"Jihye-yah." 

Lee Jihye blinked, and saw that Na Bori had food with her. She recognized that it was her favourite- and it'd been a long time since she'd last been able to have it. Maybe she was a little hungry, though she wasn't sure if she'd be able to eat so much.

She opened her mouth to say something about that, but was surprised when a spoon was put into her mouth.

"Remember when I got sick, and you insisted on feeding me soup even though I refused, and then eventually you just fed me while I was in the middle of arguing?" Na Bori asked with a smile.

"I remember that." Lee Jihye smiled back at her. It was strange, speaking about memories that happened with a different version of the person. It made her feel a little guilty, it felt wrong to be doing this. "The way you gaped at me was hilarious."

Her smile must have seemed a little fake (it wasn't, but it was), because Na Bori didn't say anything after that. The two of them sat in silence, Lee Jihye not in the mood to say much, and Na Bori having recognized it. She just wordlessly continued to feed her, until she could no longer eat anymore.

"Is there anywhere you want to go?" Na Bori asked.

She tried to think of a place, but couldn't think of any. But knowing that this was the last day she could spend with Na Bori, she suggested, "Let's just take a walk."

She nodded, and they went outside and walked around the streets of Seoul. Lee Jihye was still used to the sight of destruction, but in this regression, the damage wasn't so bad. With the huge failure looming, it was vaguely reassuring to see that at least this time, they were able to save thousands and millions of lives.

They passed by a PC Bang, and Na Bori suggested that they go inside. Out of the two of them, it was Lee Jihye who played more video games, though Na Bori could get quite competitive. Lee Jihye won more games, but that was because she had more experience. It felt almost like the days before the scenarios, and she wasn't sure how to feel about that. After that, they walked around some more before going to watch a movie. Lee Jihye already cried easily when it came to movies, but with everything that went on, it was impossible to hold them back.

Na Bori turned to her, a teasing smile on her face, similar to the moment when Lee Jihye had realized her feelings. Lee Jihye had been crying, Na Bori lovingly teased her, and then she had the realization that oh, she truly wished that she could live the rest of her life like this, with her.

But now, it was a dream that was so far out of reach. In one day, she was going to leave the world behind. Even after the movie was over, she couldn't stop crying. Na Bori turned to her, her hand instinctively moving towards her face, before she realized what was going on and instead taking out a tissue.

"The movie wasn't that sad, crybaby. The one we watched right before the scenarios was way more emotional."

It wasn't just the movie that left her so emotional, it was everything else. But there was another thing that bothered her. 

"I'm not… I'm not the Lee Jihye you know," she said. "I'm not her."

"What are you talking about? Jihye-yah is Jihye-yah."

"But I'm not her. You keep treating me as if we're the same person. Stop treating me like her. I'm not a replacement."

It was projection, and her being unable to deal with her own feelings that were causing her to lash out, she knew that. Lee Jihye had to constantly remind herself that the two Na Boris she knew weren't the same, even if it was easy to fall back into their old dynamic. She had to remind herself not to get too attached, because she was going to leave. She had to remind herself that they weren't the same, because doing so would betray the memories of the Na Bori that she knew. And Lee Jihye was frustrated.

There was so much that she wanted to say, but she couldn't figure out what to say. She wanted to scream and shout, letting everything that had been building up for all this time loose. "You're not going to have her back, ever. The two of us… the two of us aren't destined to be with the one we love." Na Bori looked upset at that, and opened her mouth, but Lee Jihye didn't think she was able to take what would be said next.

"Sorry Bori," Lee Jihye said. "It was fun being with you, but I'm not feeling well."

They were still supposed to go eat dinner together, but she lost her appetite. She started to leave, only to feel her arm tugged as she spun around.

"Listen Jihye," Na Bori said, looking up at her. "I understand that looking at me reminds you of her. And maybe you are right, you're not the Lee Jihye who has been with me for sixteen years. You're someone who learned to fight with a sword, and you're brilliant with it. But does that really mean that you're a completely different person? The Lee Jihye I knew always loved swords, whenever we played fighting games, she always gravitated to playing any woman who owned a sword. So is it that surprising that you now own a sword too?

"You've experienced so many things that have changed you, but in the end, you're still Lee Jihye . You're strong and sweet, you hate showing weaknesses but you're a huge crybaby. I haven't known you for sixteen years, but I've known you long enough to know that you're Lee Jihye. And if even that much had changed, I'm wi- I would be willing to get to know you. I know it's worse for you, because you had to kill her, and now see her face and hear her voice from me. But things have gone differently this round compared to the other rounds, right? I'm different. With time, you'd eventually have been able to treat me differently, and accept that I am her, but still get to know the differences.

"Jihye-yah. If we… if we were given the opportunity, if we weren't going to leave each other, would you have given us a chance?"

Lee Jihye blinked. She knew that Na Bori would have something to say, but she didn't expect this much. "I think… I think that I would have liked to."

She'd been coming to terms that saving Na Bori this time wouldn't erase what had happened in the past. But she didn't have to erase it, that memory was something that would never be erased. Instead, she could have created new ones. It was so unfortunate that all those possibilities wouldn't be able to happen in this world.

Lee Jihye looked up at the evening sky, and hoped that in at least one of the other worldlines, there was a Lee Jihye and Na Bori who could have their happy ending.

•~•~•~•~•~•

And then finally, the day had come for her and the others to leave. The Ark was set up for them to board, and many of the people who had joined the Group Regression had already climbed on board. She'd already told Na Bori goodbye, because she didn't think she'd be able to say goodbye at the last moment. But still, she couldn't help but look back and seek her out, to take in the sight of figure one last time.

With a deep breath, she turned and started going towards the Ark again. When she took a step, she heard a cry for her name.

"Jihye, wait!"

Lee Jihye stopped and turned around, and Na Bori nearly crashed into her.

"I'm sorry, this is selfish, but do you really have to go back? Can't you stay?"

She did want to stay, it would have been nice to stay with Na Bori and live out the rest of her life in this worldline. But she had a family that she'd chosen, and she'd already decided that she was going to stay with them. She remembered that a little while ago, Jung Heewon had told her that she was allowed to stay, if she wished, but Lee Jihye knew that there was no point.

"I asked you what you'd do if we were given an opportunity, but this could be it," Na Bori continued, her voice almost frantic. Her bright eyes gleamed with tears. "Or, I could come with you. I don't want to force you to leave your family behind. I could get to know them, and we could all live our lives toge-"

"Bori-yah," Lee Jihye interrupted, placing her hands on her friend's cheeks. "You have your own life to live here. Bori-yah, it'll be alright, okay?"

"Then let me… let me kiss you, I want to be able to know how it feels, even if just once."

It took a second to process the words, and Na Bori looked at her, waiting to see her reaction. With her hands on Na Bori, all she had to do was lean forward for their lips to meet. Lee Jihye had imagined this moment a lot, she'd wished that before Na Bori had died, that she'd mustered the courage to confess. Sometimes in her nightmares, she imagined the feeling of lips on hers, before the body in front of her would end unable to breathe and then fall over.

The kiss was slow and tight and desperate, their arms wrapped around each other and squeezed, both unwilling to let go, so they could let this moment last just a little longer. It was only until Na Bori had gasped for a breath that Lee Jihye backed away, half out of fear that the kiss was just another one of her nightmares. But Na Bori was still standing there, breathing in and out, her lips pink, and Lee Jihye could feel her own lips tingling.

"I love you, Bori-yah," she whispered.

"I love you too, Jihye-yah," came the reply.

"Please live on for me, okay?" She asked, taking Na Bori's hand in between hers.

"Okay. I'll do it for you."

Lee Jihye stared at her for the last time, she stared until she could see the image of her when she closed her eyes. She imagined the feel of her, the sound of her voice, her scent and even her taste, she committed it all to memory.

"Goodbye." Their hands separated, and Lee Jihye once again started walking towards the Ark.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she already knew that this moment would be added to her nightmares, of having Na Bori and still managing to lose her again.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Orv taglist- @subrosasteath

If you wanna be added/removed from the taglist, just let me know

[frogtanii]

Wind anon has a test tomorrow so she is gonna be studying for a bit—but it should be okay! (Actually, seeing and reading not only the PF updates but also all the comments from fans give me energy and motivation. It’s really good at cheering me up, so I greatly appreciate how I was able to stumble upon such a community.) Anyway, might as well get to the reaction!

First, starting off with Iwaizumi... every time I see an Iwaizumi start I get a bit anxious like “oh no, it’s him again” type of feeling. Makes me all twisty. But I was like “hm? Why’s he asking where they all are? He drove them to the venue?” So I was like “aaaaa” but softly

And YN with Suga and Akaashi! Soft boys. Very very nice. Suga mentioned reading books as a suggestion to Bokuto before didn’t he? Book crew~ also, I like that there’s a bench by the restrooms of the place. Very conveniently placed, isn’t it? Though the mention that it’s secluded is very fitting with YN needing to recharge the social battery. Some days I need to recharge my battery myself, and I just completely lose the desire to talk once it’s low. I hope YN gets lots and lots of self care days where she doesn’t have to do anything but love being herself. She deserves it.

Kuroo being with Bokuto :D! I like how he’s still sticking by even when he has no clue what they are talking about. It’s wonderful.

And Kenma :0. Same restroom as the one where YN, Akaashi, and Suga are? Because then they all went together. Cute cute cute. A group of introverts.

Sakusa and Atsumu by the snack table. That’s good, that’s good, hope that they had some good food.

Osamu talking to a kid about how he cooks his ramen! Very nice very nice, I feel like there hasn’t been enough chances to show Osamu’s desire and love for food. I mean, there was that one time Meiko got him to cook food for her even when he was tired and I’m still a bit grumpy about that, but it’s nice that he’s getting a chance to socialize to people like this.

Daichi, starting off with saying he was indisposed—my immediate reaction was to zone in and be like “Meiko” but no. It wasn’t her this time. By this point I was like “but...where is she...?” But also, Daichi is being real polite with the way he’s talking. Curious, but not bad. Just interesting to me.

And here we see Iwaizumi doing the classic “I hold the power. I demand answers” I know that he’ll have his redemption arc but I am just very...at odds with him right now and wind anon disapproves. It’s upsetting to see him actually. I can only imagine how YN feels... (oh, I’ve been thinking of what’d it be like to take the place of Meiko. Not right now because that’s asking for wind anon to wake up to animosity and chaos—scary. But like, if wind anon was from the start... platonic cuddling with YN and no drama...)

But Daichi taking care of the wardrobe malfunction. That’s a cool choice. Though I suppose it makes sense. He’s the steady type. Less impulsive and emotion driven compared to Iwaizumi, but still able to get there. Though, considering the amount of stress Iwaizumi has been under, was it really not a thing to ask for help from one of the members, or to request another person from management? There’s...13 members altogether, so 12 people he’s trying to manage right now. I don’t think there would be much loss having 2 managers to care for 6 main members at a time. Might be more efficient, and they could always try a rotational schedule and collaborate if they want more full house content.

I like how Iwaizumi asked “who and where” and when Daichi replied with only The Who, everyone still moved on. Just shows how frazzled and frantic Iwaizumi is under that calm facade.

Iwaizumi commanding them to leave :0! I was really puzzled at this point. Like the rest of the members, I didn’t understand why he was so adamant considering he had made them go to the event to network. And him forgetting Oikawa...

But moving down to the part where Iwaizumi blows up and tells them to get in the limo (because wind anon doesn’t want her reaction to drag too long), it’s very much like Iwaizumi. First there is the message about “there will be another event where you get to pretend you’re relevant for a couple of hours” oh, wind anon is focusing on that line. Obviously, the fact that they are all preoccupied right now is not a concern to him—but this was very emotionally charged and blunt—he didn’t have the patience to frame his thoughts to something prettier and more logical—this is truly what he thinks. “There will be another event” shows that he believes that there definitely will be one—he’s not trying to cover his words so the fact he mentioned there’s another event means it’s not trying to placate them in a sense. I mean, if he’s trying to placate them, rage is not the way to go about it anyway so it would have been a fail even without this, but he specified the event when he could’ve not said a thing about a future event so, yeah. “Where you get to pretend to be relevant for a few hours” oh my gosh. How to go about analyzing this portion? The content, the emotion, the execution, it’s all so...vivid. (10/10 job as always fr0ggy) the fact that he says pretend to be relevant shows how he views the house. Obviously they like the content they create. They care about the content they create. And sure they may not all be big, but relevant? They’re definitely relevant in your career choice Iwaizumi. They got nominated for an award and it’s not as if they were around for a super long time. It’s impressive. You’ll get attention and more of a fan base. Their relevance will definitely grow. The words by themselves are an attack of sorts to the members, showing his belief that they are shallow and fake and trying to get famous and seem big. Makes him seem like he has an inferiority complex of sorts, the way he’s acting. Take everything I say with a grain of salt though. I’m not a doctor.

Okay, next. We have Daichi, who is more reliable and asks for logic! Thank the lords of the PF universe, I literally wouldn’t be able to take too much emotional charge. And then Meiko’s name pops up. The last time I was writing an ask, I was redesigning Meiko’s entire look, and purely the look. I wasn’t doing a character analysis and I didn’t put anything besides my opinions on a better dress but I saw this and the complete blankness my mind went was astonishing.

“She’s a grown woman Tsumu. I left her alone for a few hours, she can handle that.” Y’know, for a cook, he really didn’t realize that was a recipe for disaster. (B-dum tsss. I do like puns) but she’s been shown to not be able to take care of herself and also have a bad personality on top of that so it really was an explosion in the making. I’m the spectrum of not taking care of myself (skipping meals to do schoolwork...skipping meals to sleep...yeah, no) but I think my personality is decent. But Meiko? I actually thought she might be decent with networking. I mean, she picks up guys quite easily doesn’t she? So I was fascinated with what she could’ve possibly done.

Liquor :0 !! I was never interested in drinking liquor that much (though they are pretty a lot of the times...the colors and bottles and glasses are really nice art subjects). Seeing Meiko makes me want to avoid alcohol even more. She started drinking...gosh, she is...a hot mess. Not even kids would be as bad...

Her being “plastered”? Considering that one time where she started drinking a ton before going to a club and...forcing herself on Suga, and how she managed to leave the bathroom completely composed and such, I was mesmerized at the fact she actually managed to drink enough to get completely wasted. And champagne? She must’ve just stuck around and made a whole group of glasses where she was. Also, she didn’t try to get any guys? Wow. Wind anon is staring at her like she’s a particularly weird specimen. She is so...baffling. Confusing.

She insulted and slapped someone :0!!!!!! The amount of exclamation marks show how intense my reaction is. Violent, violent, and such an idiot Meiko is. I hope management steps in. I can’t stand looking at her. But I mean...once she wakes up, like the morning after, would anyone be willing to look and care for her? Such a mess...

I pity the people in management who would have to smooth this over. Gosh, they need a raise and a fruit basket. Like those fancy ones with the fruit cut into shapes on skewers and such. As well as a box of chocolates.

But yeah, I’ll end it here. Been a while since I have a long reaction. I’m pretty sure I got a bit of the analysis wrong and also rambled a bit too much at times, hmmm.

Okay, headcanon time... imagine YN making make up by breaking all of Meiko’s and she just names the mix “Meiko” because it’s a streaky mess. She packages it and gives it to fans for free. It would be fun :D. Only the eyeshadows and stuff though. I do not trust any thing that would directly touch Meiko...like her lipsticks. Bleh.

Sakusa, Akaashi, Suga, Tooru, and YN being eyeliner group. Just imagine Akaashi tilting your head up with the lightest fingers under your chin, while Sakusa braids your hair and folds in some dark silk flowers with pearl centers into it. YN smiling at them after she comes out, with pomegranate lip tint and a leather jacket. Be dangerous YN. Kill us all. YN supremacy <3.

YN and Atsumu would be the two to have the popsicles that you break apart.

Kenma wears red eyeliner once for a dare or a gift to fans or something and all of his fans decide to pass out.

Osamu and Bokuto doing stuff together to promote healthy living.

Okay, gonna end here. I very much appreciate all the support here. Much love towards those who favorite my asks and such too. I’m super glad you all like hearing from me. I mean, we’re all fans of PF and fr0ggy so I hope that everyone is enjoying all of this as much as I am. You all make me very very happy. Much appreciation to all the anons and ask senders and submissions because everyone is super cool.

Take care fr0ggy! Much hearts to you!

oh geez i hope ur test goes well!!!!!!! i don’t have much to say cs ur incredibly eloquent (as usual) but i rlly like the idea of bokuto n osamu promoting healthy living!!!! that rlly hits cs my family is VERY much into healthy living so that just made me happy hehe ILY I HOPE U HAVE A LOVELY DAY KITH KITH <3333

[nanapandaz]

Cognitive Impairment in Schizophrenia

Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional, I can’t diagnose you. If you think you have a mental illness please reach out to your doctor or a mental health professional.

For schizophrenics like myself, some of the most stigmatized, and sensationalized symptoms are the positive ones, meaning delusions, hallucinations, and movement disorders to some extent. You see them in textbooks and in the media; seeing, hearing, smelling or feeling things that aren’t real. Believing strange ideas, and this is my own example, like that the alien government lizard people are coming after you. These draw the most attention from the public eye, and I can’t blame them, alien government lizard people is pretty out there. But what about the less talked about symptoms such as negative and cognitive symptoms? Well, this essay will examine the cognitive side of a schizophrenia diagnosis.

According to Columbia University (2016), “many people with [Schizophrenia] also have cognitive deficits, including problems with short- and long-term memory.” They go on to say that cognitive factors can be the most disabling for people, leading to difficulty holding down a job and maintaining social relationships. They don’t have many answers as to the cause or cure for memory problems. Sucks to be us I guess. I personally have a plethora of issues with memory, short term and long term. I find myself lost when the dialogue of TV shows gets even slightly complicated because I immediately forget what was said, maybe that’s just me but it takes a toll on my self-esteem when I can't follow slightly complicated dialogue. But anyway, back to memory. Apparently when a group of healthy controls were compared to a group with schizophrenia, the healthy group, unsurprisingly, did better at memory tasks. In fact the health control groups brains showed increased brain activity the tests got harder and decreased activity when it got easier while the people with schizophrenia showed significantly weaker activity across the board.

According to Bowie and Harvey (2006) cognitive symptoms are the central feature of schizophrenia. As well as that these impairments may even present before the emergence of positive symptoms. They also found that there were “moderate deficits in attention, verbal fluency, working memory, and processing speed, with superimposed severe deficits in declarative verbal memory and executive functioning.” What is executive functioning? Well to quote Goodman (2021), “[e]xecutive functioning skills help you get things done. These skills are controlled by an area of the brain called the frontal lobe.” Things executive functioning helps you do is “manage time, pay attention, switch focus, plan and organize, remember details, avoid saying or doing the wrong thing, do things based on your experience, and multitask” (Goodman, 2021).

I’ll cover some ways to deal with executive dysfunction in a later essay.

Most people with schizophrenia will show some kind of cognitive impairment, but the severity will vary across different people. One interesting thing about these cognitive impairments is that they will remain relatively stable over time. There are some different types of impairments that I will summarize.

General Intelligence

I take some offence at the description that all people with schizophrenia have lower IQ’s, I mean there are/were some very smart people with it, like John Nash, or the people Cernis, Vassos, Brebion, McKenna, Murray, David & MacCabe (2015) studied, finding that there is “a high-IQ variant of schizophrenia that is associated with markedly fewer negative symptoms than typical schizophrenia” However the science seems to be overwhelmingly favourable in the direction that people with it have lower IQ’s as a group. On the other hand, I don’t know what kind of people they picked for their healthy control group, because if they were all university grads then it’s not really fair. So take this with a grain of salt. While the tests say that we are as a group, less intelligent than the “general” population it doesn’t mean you specifically are not intelligent. We can be just as successful as anyone else.

Attention

This one is simple, people with schizophrenia have a deficit in their ability to maintain their attention, this occurs even before the first psychotic episode.

Working memory

I have a terrible working memory, bad enough for it to be considered a learning disability. However I’m not alone in this, many people with schizophrenia have some kind of dysfunction in working memory, and apparently specifically verbal working memory. Bowie and Harvey (2006) state that “Working memory can be conceptualized as the ability to maintain and manipulate informative stimuli.” This is in contrast to attention span, with working memory being more cognitively challenging and attention span being more simple. In working memory, “The information must be held online for processing, but does not necessarily transfer to long-term storage, unlike episodic memory” (Bowie and Harvey, 2006). And poor memory can even affect social and interpersonal relationships because of the inability to pay attention to “multiple streams of information” Bowie and Harvey, 2006).

Verbal fluency

People like us sometimes find it rather difficult to speak in a coherent fashion, I remember many instances where I’ve tried to speak only for word salad to spill out of my mouth, and the looks of confusion and worry on other peoples faces is just great, really what I wanted to happen, not embarrassing at all. This inability to speak is due to “poor storage of verbal information as well as inefficient retrieval of information from semantic network” (Bowie and Harvey, 2006). Furthermore, "information that is stored is not always retrieved as a result of this inability to properly access semantic networks” (Bowie and Harvey, 2006).

Verbal and learning memory

A main impairment of schizophrenia is the difficulty of retaining verbal information. From what I understand, recognition memory seems to be able to work well in most cases, but “the pattern of deficits in schizophrenia tends to be reduced rates of learning over multiple exposure trials and poor recall of learned information” (Bowie and Harvey, 2006). So basically it takes a while for us to learn something but once we do we have good recognition memory. Now, recognition memory is the ability to recall something when you’ve seen it before, so I think what happens is if you’re able to process the information into long term memory you’ll be able to recall when you encounter that information again. Maybe I’m totally wrong, I don’t know.

Executive functioning

Now most schizophrenics have difficulties with most of all of the processes involved with executive dysfunction. Bowie and Harvey (2006) say that “schizophrenia patients have trouble adapting to changes in the environment that require different behavioral responses” which is directly due to issues with executive dysfunction. Furthermore, this “inflexibility” is highly associated with what Bowie and Harvey call “occupational difficulties.” This makes sense, when someone can’t plan, practice self-care, engage in social and interpersonal matters or participate in community functions, it’s gonna take a toll on your work life.

Treatment

Atypical antipsychotics seem to be the best treatment for cognitive impairments, though the results are sorta weak, Bowie and Harvey (2006) admit that “they have had very limited, if any, success in producing cognitive improvements. However, the search for new compounds designed specifically for cognitive enhancement in schizophrenia continues to be a promising area for future research.”

However there is also behavioural treatments, but there isn’t a lot of research on this topic. On the other hand, what little research there is, is very promising. “These strategies include training on computerized tasks similar to existing cognitive tests, teaching new learning strategies, training on novel tasks, and/or performing tasks repetitively” (Bowie and Harvey, 2006).

In the end, it seems that a combination of medication and therapy is the key. On the other hand, research by Everding (2005) states that “memory problems in schizophrenia can indeed be reduced and suggests that helping people use the right memorization strategy is critical to success.” The right strategies seem to be to remember more ‘deeply’ or according to Jantzi, Mengi, Serfaty, et al., (2019) to engage in retrieval practice, also Antzi, Mengi, Serfaty, et al.’s (2019) study is “the first to demonstrate that retrieval practice is also superior to restudy in improving later recall in patients with schizophrenia presenting with episodic memory impairment.” This is great news for us because it presents a real way of improving our memories, which apparently most of us need.

REFERENCES

Study finds brain marker of poor memory in schizophrenia patients: possible key to understanding and treating cognitive symptoms of the disease, (2016). Columbia University. Retrieved from https://www.cuimc.columbia.edu/news/study-finds-brain-marker-poor-memory-schizophrenia-patients

Bowie, C. R., & Harvey, P. D. (2006). Cognitive deficits and functional outcome in schizophrenia. Neuropsychiatric disease and treatment, 2(4), 531–536. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2671937/

Černis ,E,. Vassos, E,. Brébion, G,. McKenna, PJ,. Murray, RM,. David, AS,. MacCabe, JH. (2015). Schizophrenia patients with high intelligence: A clinically distinct sub-type of schizophrenia? Eur Psychiatry. (5):628-32. Retrieved from https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/25752725/

Gerry Everding (2005). Memory study shows brain function in schizophrenia can improve with support, holds promise for cognitive rehabilitation: need cues, memory aids. Washington University. Retrieved from https://source.wustl.edu/2005/07/memory-study-shows-brain-function-in-schizophrenia-can-improve-with-support-holds-promise-for-cognitive-rehabilitation/

Jantzi, C., Mengin, A., Serfaty, D. et al. (2019). Retrieval practice improves memory in patients with schizophrenia: new perspectives for cognitive remediation. BMC Psychiatry 19, 355. Retrieved from https://bmcpsychiatry.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/s12888-019-2341-y#citeas

Goodman, B. (2021). Executive function and executive dysfunction disorders. WebMD. Retrieved from https://www.webmd.com/add-adhd/executive-function

[my-imagines-moonlight53]

Red Tallies || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: This AU is based on an idea from an old prompt in which people have tally marks to represent how many times they have fallen in love. Peter has fallen in love a couple times, but never been loved back. Peter is college age, would say around 21-23, and so is reader and company.

Author’s Note: This has honestly been something that I’ve been wanting to write for a while, and finally found the time to sit down and write it. Though still testing the waters, so please let me know. Would most likely try to be a slow burn, like definitely be more than four parts.

Word Count: 2K

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

“Ned, I told you, she isn’t in love with me,” Peter repeated for the eighth time in this same phone conversation, but that didn’t mean that it hurt any less.

“Are you sure? I mean it could just take a while for hers to show up soon?”

“Ned, I really don’t want to say this but she did have a red mark, but it wasn’t for me,” he finally caved and explained the one fact he has kept thus far, “I didn’t think she would pull something like this, that’s why she can’t love me…because she loves someone else,” he sighed almost feeling the tally mark was burning his skin.

“Oh, I’m sorry dude,” he said after a long pause.

“I know but it’s not something you should apologize for,” he sighed, trying not to remember the events that occurred that morning.

“You can always come with me and Betty to the movies tonight, we can invite a few more people so you don’t feel like third wheel,” wanting to switch topics to hopefully cheer his friend up.

Peter knew that his friend was really trying to help but he really couldn’t think of leaving his apartment. He really needed to process the whole situation rather than distract himself from it, because he knew when he was alone, he would feel this low again. He looked down at his wrist seeing nothing but black tallies on his wrist, and let out a long sigh.

“Pete, you still there?” pulling him out from his thoughts.

“Yea just thinking about the offer,” even though he already knew that he had the answer.

“How about you think about it and let me know. I don’t want you to feel pressured,” always the supportive friend. “I would cancel on Betty but…“

“Thanks Ned,  don’t think Betty deserves that,” smiling knowing that Ned will always be his ride or die. “Think I’m a sit this one out,” his eyes still focused on his wrist.

“Offer will stands till seven, but if not, I’ll stop by tomorrow with food and can talk about it,” wanting Peter to know that he’ll be there through thick and thin.

“Yea tomorrow would be nice, I’ll text you if anything happens,” affirming that he wasn’t going out tonight, “have a great date Ned.”

“Thanks Pete. Hope to see you soon then,” he said.

Both said their goodbyes, leaving Peter  to let out a long groan of frustration. The palms of his hands pressed against his eyes hoping to keep the tears in that he kept in the whole day. Another black tally mark etched on his skin, great another failed attempted at love.

It was at times like these that wished he never learned about the tally marks, but it’s something unavoidable. He remembers days in which his Aunt May would sit down and talk to him about the tally marks that would one day appear across his wrist and tried to do her best to explain it.

“Alright Peter, so one when you find someone you really love, you’ll one day see a black tally appear right here,” pointing out her own single red tally on her wrist.

“But yours is red,” child Peter pointing out the obvious.

“I know, but if the person you love, loves you back, then it will turn red. Just like mine, yours can start off black, only depending who falls for who first. I can tell you first hand that mine showed up a month before your Aunt May’s did,” puling Peter’s attention from his aunt to his see his uncle setting down his stuff. Ben walked over to the two ruffling Peter’s hair to distract him from giving May a quick kiss.

“Hey it’s not my fault that you fell in love sooner than I did,” she joked.

“Uh, yea it is, you didn’t make it easy for me,” he smiled, “So what is this tally mark talk about?”

“Just curious,” Peter responded, “besides our teacher was going to go over it soon and wanted a head start.”

Peter smiled his tears gaining a bittersweet taste to them but figured that he may as well let out any tears at this moment. He looked at his wrist, nothing but black tallies and he would be lying to himself if he said that it didn’t hurt him. He really didn’t get the idea of what was so difficult about loving him, but then again, it’s not like he can force someone to love him. But still he just felt like a below the belt when he saw his now ex-girlfriend, if she even considered herself that, sport a red tally that clearly wasn’t his. Peter let out a loud sigh, thinking it was just to just scour his social media and start to unfollow her but couldn’t force himself to delete old pictures of themselves.

Just a few moments later and Peter heard a large crash outside his door. Peter quickly got up and walked over to the door hearing already someone cussing from the other end.

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

You didn’t know whether to be mad at the carpet lining the floor or yourself for thinking it was a good idea to carry more than you actually could  because you really took a dive just now.  You were glad that the boxes you decided to carry were filled with things that wouldn’t break, but you couldn’t help the burn on your cheeks from embarrassment and hope that no one saw your fall.

You started to stack a few things to try to somewhat organize things, and decided now was a good time as any to open your door. You decided to take a few things with you hoping to prevent anyone from seeing your mishap. By the time you went back to your stuff, someone was already organizing your fallen mess.

“Hey, sorry about the mess in front of your door, just give me a couple minutes and it’ll be totally clear,” walking over to said mess.

“it’s no worry at all,” seeing the stranger get up and face you.

Your heart jumped to your chest seeing the face that although you have forgotten about over time, you could never truly forget. “Peter?” knowing full well that there was no doubt about it.

“uh do I know you?” his face really confused because he really couldn’t place your face to a name.

“It’s been a while, but remember me from middle school,” trying not to act like you weren’t even more embarrassed then just a moment before.

You could visually see his mind thinking back to middle school, and finally put the pieces together, “(Y/N)! Oh god, I’m sorry I didn’t remember, trust me have a few things on my mind,” and although you haven’t seen peter in years, you figured he still was the same bashful boy you hadn’t seen in years.

“no worries, I mean what are the odds, that your old middle school friend moves down the hall much less spill most of her stuff in front of your door,” trying not to  make anything more uncomfortable.

“yea guess so,” already sensing things slowly ease, “So you took over the empty loft, I think I heard about someone filling that room,” quickly picking up a few boxes, “ how about I help you out.”

Judging by him carrying boxes you knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, “sure guess we can catch up, plus definitely need the extra set of hands,” you said.

You didn’t know what it was about Peter but he really had a way to become instant friends with just about anyone that he met. You really were glad that he still was the same as the Peter you left behind at the end of middle school. It was almost easy being with Peter that it almost made it seem like you guys hadn’t seen each other in years but can already tell that moving in here was a great choice. You found out that he was still friends with Ned and kept in touch with Michelle, which he was already mentioning that he couldn’t wait to tell the others.  you really were glad that he already wanted to plan things out with you.

You would be lying to yourself if you couldn’t deny that although you could recognize Peter, he really had matured into someone very attractive, especially by your standards. The once round cheeks chiseled out into strong edges, small chucky arms and hands became defined and strong by the easiness that he carried large boxes. however, some traits didn’t change at all, his doe brown eyes still had the same glee and his smile still captured the room, at least it did in your opinion. But now with this stance and physique, he really could capture the room.

“So, you moving in all by yourself?” Peter asked bringing in heavier objects. You

“ Yea, just me though if its gets too pricey may ask one of my friends to move in with me,” you replied already seeing that more than half of your stuff was already moved in thanks to Peter’s help, “pretty sure she will like the space as well.”

You looked over at Peter seeing that he was staring at his phone, his default cheery attitude replaced by a saddened look.

“Peter, you alright buddy?”.

“Uh yea, just some,” not knowing the right words to say, or better yet not know the right words that didn’t make him want to cry again.

“Girl trouble,” you finished, doubting someone like him couldn’t be with anyone or have someone he’s interest in.

“Um, something like that,” figured that he didn’t know how to phrase it.

“You don’t have to talk about it, I mean we technically just met,” not wanting to push his limits, because you figured that he would tell you just to be nice.

“It’s not that, I just don’t want one of our few first conversations to be about how my girlfriend got a red tally,”  the words sounding so sour, “my bad I think I don’t think she was my girlfriend to begin with.”

“Red tally, then isn’t that a good thing?” not really understanding the problem.

“Yeah her and whoever she’s interested in, but definitely not for me,” lifting the side of his wrist and showing his black tallies., “just figured she’d be the first you know,” he said melancholy as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Hey her loss and their loss too, because I can already tell you that you have already been one of my better random male encounters in a while,” trying to cheer him up, though you figured you were failing at it.

Peter let out a small chuckle, “very funny but think I’m going to head out. Ned's meeting me tomorrow for food, you’re more than welcomed to come,” he said trying to switch to lighter topics, “I’ll knock, see if you’re free ok”

“yea, sounds like a plan and really thanks for the help couldn’t do it without you.”

Peter said a small goodbye and walked out leaving you to finally press your hand against your chest. Your heart was racing, you knew that of course spending time with someone attractive like Peter was going to make you react but it was more. You knew that although you were glad to have met up with peter, but you weren’t sure if it was such a good idea in the long run. You finally decided to look down on your wrist, your eyes locking on your first tally mark. Your fingers traced over the black tally, knowing full well that the person who this tally represents is none other than your new neighbor, Peter Parker.

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

End Author’s Note: So that was part 1, please let me know how it is. Still in debate if i should include peter being Spiderman, that is the other main opinion I would want, since I am really on the fence. Once again this is planned out to be a somewhat slowburn.

[bellesque]

Sweet Dreams (Loki x Reader)

Part 7: Sight

Read on AO3.

Spotify playlist here.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings/Tags: Mirror Sex, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Bondage, Masturbation, basic filth y’all know, and some Angst gasp

A/N: This was a beast to write. Can’t believe there’s only one chapter left after this. Thanks for being along this filthy ride.

* * *

“HEY. SEX EYES.”

Your attention snaps up immediately. “Hm?”

She gives you a look. Shit. Busted. You plaster on a look of feigned obliviousness.

Isla sips her margarita, eyebrows lifted, and then takes extra interest in setting it down. Guilt gnaws at you. Did you pay attention to anything she just said? No. Are you going to let her know? Not if you can get away with it.

You don’t, though. Barely anything slips past Isla, from information to a change in energy. The prolonged pause makes you nervous, but you do your best not to show it.

“Sex eyes,” she says simply, examining her nails. Her gray irises flit to you, and she cocks her head to the side. “You’ve got the sex eyes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You’re thinking about a good lay. Or getting laid. You literally just zoned out because you were thinking about sex!”

“Isla!” you shush her quickly, before the elderly couple a few tables down has a chance to throw you a dirty look. Your cheeks burn, and Isla’s eyes widen as she realizes she wasn’t off the mark.

“Oh my gosh. Wait, I was like, half-kidding.” Her face splits into a grin and she slaps your leg under the table. “I knew it!” she hisses.

“Isla!”

“So who is he?”

It’s a little amusing to see her cool, calculated façade crumble as soon as she discovers you’ve been seeing someone—well, you’re using the term loosely here. But. Still.

She doesn’t even let you speak before she barrels on. “He’s gotta be like. A total hunk since you turned down Jake for him, right? Right? Holy shit, woman, tell me!”

Tell her what, exactly? That you’re “seeing” someone who only comes at midnight, specifically when you’re asleep?

“It… he’s a… secret,” you mumble.

“Secret?” Isla lets out an exaggerated gasp. “No way. Nuh uh. No secrets between us.”

“He’s a little… bashful,” you try, shrugging your shoulders. Is it hot out here? You specifically picked a table with good shade, but you’re heating up. You grab your drink in the hopes of cooling off a bit.

“Doesn’t mean you have to be,” she pouts childishly, crossing her arms as she leans back against the wicker lawn chair. “Fine.”

A pause.

“Is the sex good?”

“Isla!”

“What? Can’t blame me for trying. For all I know you’re a kinky bitch under all that office wear.” She wags her eyebrows at you suggestively. You roll your eyes in response. Another sip. Another hope that she won’t notice that she, once again, has hit the nail right on the head.

“He is real, right? You’re not just messing with me?”

“Of course,” you reply instantly, a thin wall of defensiveness going up. “What makes you think he isn’t?”

“You’re literally telling me nothing.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Yeah, but I tell you everything!”

“Even the things I don’t want to know,” you mutter. Isla pouts again.

“Fine. It’s fine. My best friend knows that she can tell me when she feels ready. And I, as her best friend, will be just as welcoming and accepting as I always am. Unless of course. He’s a troll or something. Then we can hide his body together. But one day, my best friend will tell me. Every little kinky, pornstar-worthy detail.” She wrinkles her nose in afterthought. “Ew. Okay maybe not every kinky, porny detail. But you get it!”

You manage a weak beam, but your lunch date with Isla goes on with a rock in the pit of your stomach. It’s only on your way back to work that you acknowledge and confront the feelings you’ve been suppressing for the longest time. Not the ones that surfaced because of Isla’s prying—but the ones that have been swimming just beneath the surface, opening up into a vortex of heavy thoughts.

It’s like you’ve grown… attached. There’s an emotion somewhere, one whose name comes closest to yearning, and it’s tearing you apart. On the one hand: he’s an incubus. He’s somewhere between fact and fiction, and obviously having the hots for a something rather than a someone proves to have its issues… but what if?

What if he were real, more than just a sex demon? More human, more capable of emotions other than lust and desire?

Damn. Get it together. No need to get all soft. It’s just sex.

(But it lingers: what if it could be more than that?)

 --

The silk ties are gone.

The corner where they usually sit is bare. You don’t consider yourself an overly observant person by any means, but you’ve gotten so used to seeing the smooth shine out of the corner of your eye that it feels just the slightest bit off when it’s not calling out to your subconscious.

Where… where did they go?

A sharp shiver runs down your shoulders when you realize it could be because you won’t be needing them tonight. You’ll be seeing him.

How is he going to go about it? Surely as teasing and drawn out as he always is, but where would he even begin? Would he ask you to undress for him, peel off each garment layer by layer? Would he be the one to do so?

Tonight feels like such an occasion that part of you wants to prepare somehow. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten excited to get ready for something.

Ah, fuck, if you’re too excited again, does that mean you’re not going to sleep?

It’s whatever. You’ll deal with it later.

Along with the possible emotional repercussions you dread will arise.

-- -- --

Surprisingly, you’re out like a light. The lightest shifting of your duvet is what wakes you.

“Just as I suspected.” Loki’s silky voice is right by your ear. “You really are a vixen, sleeping naked like this.”

Your eyelids flutter open to see Loki kneeling over you, a seductive smirk on his face. His green eyes rake over your figure hungrily, flitting from the duvet that covers your lower half to the halo of hair around your head. He trails his fingers along the curve of your jaw. “What were you planning to do, pet?” he murmurs. “Seduce me into your bed before I’d had my fun?”

You give him a sleepy smile, sleep-hooded eyes fixated on his mouth. “I’m the fun,” you counter boldly, slowly pushing your bare breasts towards him.

“That you are.” He trails his hand down to your breast now, giving it a gentle squeeze and a tug. “But. It’s so much fun to play with you, sweet.”

Your breathing shallows, eyelids dipping to where his fingertip lingers on your peaked nipple. It’s so easy. So natural for you to slip into this hypnotized, seduced state, willing and wanting for lack of a better description.

His touch ghosts back up over your neck, skimming lightly over your jaw as he leans towards you. “Are you ready?” he asks, his head tipping to one side. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his nose against the hollow of your cheekbone. “At long last.”

You crane your neck to the side, back arching, rising up to feel the length of his body closer to you. You will have him skin-to-skin tonight, eyes open through all of it, and a fiery bolt of excitement floods your core.

His silk suit has never felt more irksome than it does now. A barrier between you that you wish you could just rip away and have him then and there. He’s made you wait long enough, damn it. You need his cock, now.

But Loki loves to leave you in that state of anticipation, it seems. His fingers dip beneath the duvet and trail all over your naked flesh, purposefully avoiding your sopping cunt, but stimulating you just enough to make your chest rise and fall faster.

And fuck, if his expression isn’t intoxicating as it is. The way he studies you so intently—the darkness in his eyes, the way his tongue darts out when he sees how hard your nipples are. He’s barely even begun, and he’s already ruining you.

“I’d like to kiss you now,” he says lowly, darkened eyes flicking up to meet your own. “May I?”

Your answer is an urgent pressing of your mouth against his, warm and desperate and longing.

And Loki doesn’t kiss you—whatever he’s doing now, calling it mere kissing would be a disservice. It’s dizzying, consuming, possessive, every bite on your lip and suck on your tongue. There’s no way you can hold it in when you moan into his mouth.

Loki pulls away, his grip tightening around the base of your neck—fuck, when did his hand end up there?—and breathlessly he mutters into you, “Do that again. Moan for me.”

His mouth captures yours in another earth-stopping kiss, and you oblige him.

And he moans too.

By the time he pulls away, finishing with open-mouthed pecks and his tongue swiping against your mouth, you’re positive your lips are swollen and flushed the deepest shade of red. The look in his eyes tells you plainly tonight has just begun.

You reach out for him, eager for another kiss, maybe two—

The bloody fucker has restrained you. Both hands, tied to the headboard.

You say his name in what is supposed to be mild confusion, but it comes out more breathy and wanton. Damn him.

“I want you to watch me.”

Oh, fuck.

Loki gets off the bed, transfixed on your naked form all the while, and… and, well, begins stripping.

“Watch me,” Loki says sharply when he sees your eyes nearly roll back when you shudder.

And so you do. Maybe it’s because your breasts rise and fall in your periphery while you’re fucking tied up—which is somehow super fucking erotic—or because he’s watching you watch him with such a burning intensity, but even without showing an inch of skin, Loki has you, a whimpering mess, in the palm of his hand.

And then finally—fucking finally—you see him in all his bare glory.

Your jaw drops when you see his cock: swollen with blood, erect and leaking copious amounts of precum it’s obscene.

“I want you… to watch…”

His fingers clasp around his shaft, stroking himself in long, languid pumps. Your mouth waters, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

Wet. It’s what you are, it’s what Loki’s dick is. Somehow you don’t know where to look—into his eyes that seem to fuck you, or at his mouth that’s slowly parting and moving soundlessly from his restrained groans, or at his flushed and leaking cock that hangs heavy in his hand. You squirm, your cunt fluttering in need.

Your attention eventually focuses on his ministrations, the mesmerizing way he touches and strokes himself. Loki drags his hand over his shaft at an excruciatingly slow pace and keeps it up for a good while before he starts speeding up, his quiet breaths growing more labored and his abdomen visibly tensing as he ruts more firmly into his fist.

“Fuck,” you say softly, your core muscles rhythmically clenching now as you imagine it’s your cunt. Have you been clenching all the while Loki pleasures himself in front of you—for you?

“I would love to,” he husks. Loki advances, radiating pure sex.

And then he cums—hard. Spurt after spurt of white rope splattering warmth over your bare stomach, and it’s only when he rubs over the head of his cock do you realize your breathing through an open mouth.

“Did you want it in your mouth, sweet?” Loki smirks, caressing your cum-smattered stomach, drawing a line between the valley of your breasts. He holds out his finger in front of you, and suddenly it’s like his cum and your mouth are the only thing in existence. “Do you want it?”

Words don’t come easily to you; instead you battle the restraints, uncaring of the wanton way your tongue stretches out of your mouth, desperate to taste him. Loki pulls his finger away for you to huff in need, until he’s decided he’s had enough torturing you and shoves his thumb into your mouth.

You suck on it greedily, tongue swirling around him, keeping your eyes locked on his. Eye contact. You want him to want you. You want him to see how much you want him.

Almost reluctantly, his finger leaves the warmth of your mouth, dragging your lower lip down subtly before he brings the pad of his thumb back over his slit. Loki hisses, eyes snapping shut as he thumbs his hard cockhead.

Fuck.

“I cannot wait,” he says hoarsely, fingers rubbing his head, “I must have you now.”

The anticipation within you is almost like an out of body experience. Your limbs move of their own accord as soon as they’re let out of their restraints, and fuck when your bare bodies touch, it’s fucking fire. Your blood is fire, your skin is fire.

And the best part is, you can see him. Through the haze of your eyelashes as you kiss his mouth fiercely, it’s evident he’s enjoying this just as much—if not more—as you are. Eyes shut, cock hard, hands needy. So fucking needy.

Loki starts necking you, bringing you flush against his (completely and deliciously naked) skin with a hand kneading your ass. And there it is, that stimulation—the way he palms the flesh and smacks it to deliver the most sensual and near illicit shockwaves to your clit.

You’re panting pretty heavily now, hands fisted tight in Loki’s dark waves. The moment you tug on it unconsciously is when he seems to break from whatever spell he’s under. He kisses the bruise that’s now forming on your neck, thumbing your nipples as he smolders up at you.

“Turn around,” he rasps, and the breathiness in his voice makes you a little proud.

Being on your knees, it doesn’t take very long for you to do a 180. At least, it shouldn’t. But the sex-crazed part of you puts on a show for him: a subtle jut of your ass, an arch of your back to let your breasts bounce enticingly for him. And it works, sort of—the corner of Loki’s mouth lifts up in a challenged smirk and he pulls your hips, your back colliding with his chest.

“Look at you,” he says, nose brushing the helix of your ear. “At us.”

At first, you aren’t sure what he means… until you see the mirror on the side of the room, reflecting your flushed and naked body pulled against his. It stretches from the ceiling all the way to the floor, displaying in crystal clear quality, you and Loki entwined in a tangle of sweat-sheened limbs.

Loki straddles you from behind, his head angled intently towards you as he strokes the sides of your breasts. “Open those legs, sweet, and eyes on that delicious cunt.”

You spread your knees wider, half-kneeling, half-saddled against Loki’s lap, inching apart until the flushed rosy pink of your cunt peeks between your legs. Instead of embarrassment flooding you as you thought it would, you’re simply turned on.

“Would you like to touch yourself?” Loki nips at your neck in the reflection, eyes shut as his lips brush against you, barely pulling away when he speaks. His voice is nothing more than a deep resonance in your chest. “Or shall I?”

“Please,” you whisper, entranced at the vision of Loki sucking another bruise into your neck, that sweet spot that makes your legs turn to jelly.

His hands begin to toy with your breasts, and you shudder, folding into his touch. “Please what?”

“Touch me.”

Loki says nothing. At this point, you just want to cum. From his cock or his fingers, right now it doesn’t matter—all you crave is release that comes from his doing. After being blindfolded for so long, you finally get the chance to memorize this moment, imprint it into your consciousness forever.

His hands roll and tease your nipples until you let out an impatient whine, to which Loki punishes (or rewards?) you with a sharp squeeze at your breast. And then his palm slides down, down, centimeter by centimeter, your knees fruitlessly trying to get even further apart.

You’re on the verge of babbling sexual pleas, you’re sure of it. Close to begging for his fingers, his touch; his tongue, his cock. Loki chuckles—shit, did you say all that out loud?

Without so much as a warning, Loki slips a finger inside you. Entirely finesse, like it’s the most natural response to babble in the world. Like it’s the only way to shut you up—which, probably, if your moan is any indication, it is.

It becomes increasingly difficult for you to keep your eyes open; they insist on rolling back whenever his fingers brush against your clit. But it’s so hot, so fucking hot, to be riding—when did your hips start moving?—his fingers, watching how they disappear into your cunt with a soft squelch.

And then his fingers curl into your G-spot, and you convulse involuntarily.

“Stay,” Loki orders roughly, mouth closing around the index finger of his free hand. He stimulates your clit further with the heel of the hand that fingers you, and rolls your nipple in his spit-covered fingers.

The crescendo of pleasure in your body is barely containable; your moan is throaty as you buck onto his hand, and Loki rewards you with another pleasurable squeeze. So hot. Your body is consumed by the wildfire of pleasure, chasing the white hot flame of release.

“Loki—” you can’t help it, you tilt your head and give him a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, “—Loki, fuck, I’m gonna cum like this—”

“Then cum, sweet.” Loki’s fingers pump you deeper, curling inside you. His breath is so warm, so hot against your neck. “Cum for me.”

And you do. Shockingly fast, and strong, your body spasming so much that Loki has to hold you close. You watch, dissociated from yourself, as your body jolts with the aftershocks of pleasure. Like the image that’s in front of you isn’t actually you—spent and panting and wanton, pussy dark red and fluttering and proud.

Loki kisses you as you ride out your high, just barely moving his fingers inside you. It’s never been like this. Multiple orgasms are achievable, but with Loki… oh, mercy. How is he able to keep you in such a constant state of arousal, hungry even when you should be sated?

And then… then you register it. You don’t, not at first, too blissfully unaware of whatever else is happening outside your mouth slotting against his, his lips suctioning around the tip of your tongue—but when it happens, you freeze. You can’t believe—is it happening, you really ask yourself, as Loki shifts behind you and positions the head of his cock at your sopping entrance.

Fuck, his precum mingles with your cum, and it’s the fucking hottest thing you’ve ever felt, your body buzzing in preparation for what you’ve been daydreaming about for the longest time.

Your eyes are hyperfocused on the shadow of where your sexes meet, mouth hanging open as you watch in rapture the way he disappears into your folds.

It’s only when he bottoms out, does the way he stretches and fills you so perfectly actually register in your mind and body.

Fucking full is what you are.

Loki’s face is buried in the crook of your neck, breathing heavy as his cock fucking twitches inside you. You stay that way, both of you still as a statue, until Loki commands in a hungry whisper, “Ride me.”

And you do, all the while watching your body and the way it molds against his. His cock disappearing inside you, your walls fitting and dragging against the contour and ridges of every part of him. It’s fucking hypnotizing. Up. His cock glistens with your mingled juices. Down. Your pussy swallows him inch by inch. Up. You clench as you rise, particularly unforgiving when you’re around just his cockhead. Down. You add a little swivel to your hips as Loki bottoms out.

He growls a curse underneath his breath.

I want to make you cum. You gyrate more forcefully now, movements losing whatever elegance they held before. I want you to cum inside me.

“Keep thinking that, and I just might,” Loki groans, fingers rubbing tight, short circles your clit.

“Then do it,” you whisper, clenching as you caress the side of his face. Loki lets out a guttural noise, and then he does something you don’t expect—he shoves you.

Not off of him. Thank fuck he doesn’t. But he forces you forward, firm and dominant, and you fall on your chest with a soft oomph.

“On your hands and knees, pet.” Loki's ceased all movements inside you, save for the brush of his fingers at your hips. But for some reason, you’re sure you can cum like this. Simply wrapped around him, snug and warm, tightening your muscles as the way to release.

As if he’s read your thoughts, Loki pulls out of you and then buries himself to the hilt. You cry out, Loki’s pace now a battering, brutally delicious fucking from behind.

You could stay like this. Face down on your bed that smells like sex, mouth hanging open, being fucked so good you’re fucking drooling. You close your eyes, focused on the sensation of his cock gliding, massaging, pounding into your walls at a speed you can only describe as ungodly.

Your hair is yanked up, not too hard to be considered anything more than pleasurable pain.

“Look at yourself,” Loki spits out, a restrained grunt following after. Your eyes flutter open, and you’re thoroughly turned on by the sight that greets you. Loki’s beautiful face contorted in a sex-crazed snarl, hips slamming into yours. Your ass jiggles with every thrust, and your breasts sway back and forth while you’re barely propped up on your elbows. Your mouth still hangs open, as if awaiting Loki’s next load. Shit. You want that. His cum down your throat.

Loki gives another tug at your hair. “Look at you, my little cock slut. All your dirty desires, all your fantasies and sex—brought to the surface. Here, with me.” Loki groans again, speeding up his thrusts. Slap. Slap. Slap. “Do you like how I fuck you? Hmm? Answer me.”

Loki spanks you. A short, pleasurable sting that pushes you closer to release. Your eyebrows crease together—fuck, you won’t last long, not with the way his hand rubs soothing circles over where he slaps you. “Yes,” is your breathy answer.

Another slap. Another caress. “Louder, pet. Do you like—” he rolls his hips deeper into you, his cock riding just right along your G-spot, shit, “—how I fuck you?”

Fuuuuuck. The pleasure builds, and builds, and you buck against him as you moan another yes.

“Then cum,” he orders. Slapslapslapslap—Loki grunts, plowing into you at a such a precise speed, you can barely keep up. “Cum now, for me. Only for me.”

With a wail of his name and your head falling forward against the mattress, you cum, whole body convulsing as you pant loudly through an open mouth. So good. You clench around him as you come down from your high, and his cock sliding in and out of you in a deliciously lazy rhythm sends you into the precipice of release once more.

“Loki—” you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, but you grind against his hardening length, “—I’m gonna cum again.”

“Wait for me.” He grunts, his chest falling on your back as his hands find and knead your breasts. “I’m close.”

Somehow. Something in those two words—or maybe in the way that he says it—makes you pause in your movements. He doesn’t stop, not in the slightest, chasing his own release while you stave off yours. But… there’s something that strikes a chord in you. One that unravels a thread of thoughts and emotions wound tight, tucked away in some deep corner of your mind in favor of enjoyable, no-strings-attached sex.

But you want strings.

You want him to be more than just a sex machine. More than just a dream. Someone who actually fucking exists and hopefully, has a heart that loves as well as he fucks. But the reality is—this isn’t. This isn’t your reality, just some dream-sexcapade for a week.

You’re not gonna cry. Fuck it, you’re not going to. You’re going to enjoy every bit of tonight, damn it, have as many orgasms as you can, and you’re going to feel nothing but lust and pleasure and wake up with the glow of sex.

Loki slaps your ass again, jolting you back to his steady fucking behind you. Your hands gripping sheets, knuckles white, you say in a surprisingly steady voice, “Fuck me harder.”

His breathing hitches, and he spreads your legs further apart, bending you so it’s just your ass in the air meeting him thrust for thrust.

And fuck, does he thrust.

He’s muttering, quiet affirmations, dirty nothings, hands traveling up and down your spine—and when you clench, the first ropes of his seed sear a blaze of fire within your walls, making it easy for you to follow in release.

Before he can pull out completely, though, you summon your strength, and push Loki on his back while you swivel on his cock—earning another groan from his end—plant your hands on his chest, and look at him.

Memorizing.

Burning it into memory.

You bend forward to kiss him, hips circling over his still-hard cock.

One more night.

Just tonight.

Tonight, you’ll have the sweetest fucking dream you’ve ever had.

* * *

Masterlist

Consider buying me a coffee?

Sweet Dreams Tag List (OPEN): @shiningloki @imnotrevealingmyname @wolfsmom1 @hanyasnape @cheriesugarr @toozmanykids @rorybutnotgilmore @myraiswack @green-valkyrie @hiddlesgoddess

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Damn, Kohga has clearly been fucked by A LOT of men (like damn, his ass doesn't even need prep) And Sooga is clearly possessive AS FUCK. Consider: Kohga tying down/ordering Sooga to sit still while Kohga jacks it/fingers himself, while telling Sooga FILTHY stories of his past dalliances until Sooga can't handle it anymore.

Ooooh this is a GOOD idea. Sooga maybe bottom, but he's a possessive bottom, and we STAN that energy. 

Kohga was horny as SHIT. Nothing new in that sentence, but what was different was the fact that it was caused by Sooga's possessiveness. It started off innocently enough; Kohga wanting to spank his big, juicy ass. Simple enough. Then he got into it. Hard, fierce spanking across his ass. And what caused it? That classic territorial nature of all blade masters. Kohga so much as MENTIONED bringing one in, and he just slapped his ass six ways from sunday. Hell, he needed to sit on a pillow for a few days after that. He even recalled how Sooga apologized for that, but Kohga would have none of it. Sooga was an ANIMAL. He just had to take the beast out of the cage.

"But how…."

He asked himself, rolling over to his stomach. He sent Sooga out on some scavenger hunt (he did this whenever he needed Sooga out of the base for a while), and was left to his own devices. He needed time to think about just how he was gonna get a rise out of Sooga. Poking the beast, so to speak. He couldn’t bring another guy in to watch, they'd start beating the shit out of each other (though them fighting was ALWAYS hot). Sooga wouldn’t even let them be near their DOOR when they did it. It was ridiculous. Other guy's Kohga fucked was not this complicated. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. He nearly bolted out of bed, completely astounded by his own brilliance.

"Kohga! You're not only a hunk, you're a GENIUS!"

Kohga knew just what to do.

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

"Master Kohga, I have returned."

Kohga nearly bounced in place upon hearing his voice. He was SO ready for his pretty boy to come home. He opened his door, nearly yanking Sooga inside his room, and pulling him into a hug. Sooga sputtered in surprise, before chuckling and returning the affection.

"I was not expecting such a warm welcome for my arrival."

"Well, shame on you! Been waiting for you to come back! You like that mushy couple bullshit, so you'll love this!"

He looked up at Sooga, who cocked his head to the side.

"I do. But you don't."

"One, shut up. Two, I love YOU. So! We're gonna do something...interesting."

He pulled up a chair for Sooga (aka the good chair he got from Kingy), while he sat on his bed. Sooga was clearly not understanding what was happening, but he was going along with it, especially given Kohga’s excitement. He had drinks, snacks (mainly slices of nut cake and fruit), and even candles. It was sweet, honestly. Kohga patted his hand, clearly excited.

"So, Traysi recommends this for couples who are VERY serious about each other."

"The woman who runs the rumor mill? Should we be following-"

Kohga flicked his mask, huffing.

"We do not disrespect Traysi here. And yes, we're doing this. So you're ready?"

"If you are, absolutely."

"Good, you're going to go first. Now, tell me about EVERYONE you've been with before."

Sooga seemed confused by this. But, it was not only a command from Kohga, but Kohga actually and honestly trying to bond with him. Who could say no to that? Sooga thought about it for a moment.

"Let's see...when I was five, I married my neighbor's daughter. We had a mud cake and everything."

He chuckled. It wasn’t at all a serious answer, but it was just. So odd, recalling his past relationships, especially since they seemed so redundant now. He rubbed his chin a bit.

"Then there was Nabooru. I dated her when I was about fourteen. Lovely girl."

Kohga cocked his head to the side.

"You ACTUALLY dated girls?"

"In my teen years. When I was seventeen we broke up, started to date a stable boy. Shad. He was...a bit of a bookworm. I really liked him."

"What happened to you guys?"

Sooga hesitated, opening his mouth then closing it again.

"Father didn't....what I mean to say is...uhm, If I may skip, Master Kohga."

Oof, rough territory. Kohga waved his hand, letting him know to press on. Sooga shook the thought out of his head, happy to no longer be thinking about it.

"Then there were the occasional hookups. Nothing serious, a few men to share a bed with for the night. Chudly, Benja, and Vilia. Then it was you."

Kohga blinked. Wow. Could buy a piece of bread with that body count.

"That's...it? Only FIVE people? And one was a WOMAN? That’s ALL the people you’ve been with?!”

“Yes. Though, I wouldn’t fully include the first one, in all honesty.”

Sooga rubbed the back of his neck shyly, clearly a bit embarrassed from how little that seemed to be. Kohga just couldn’t fathom that. Five people, in his entire life. Sooga was a young stud, he could get plenty of his ass, just on his walk home. Kohga couldn’t fathom that. Sooga seemed to shrink a bit under his clearly bewildered look.

“Is that...too few?”

Kohga realized he was making Sooga feel self conscious. He was aiming for jealousy, not this. He raised his hands up a bit, shaking his head.

“No! No, any number is fine, even none. I’m just saying, I expected a LOT more. I mean, LOOK at you!”

Sooga chuckled, blushing like crazy underneath his mask like the cute guy he was. 

“Well, thank you, Master Kohga. But no, I have not been with anyone else. Just those, and I haven’t missed one. You know, I can actually see the merit in this piece of advice. It feels good, getting that off my chest. Is it your turn?”

Kohga almost wanted to cuddle his big, dumb face. Thankfully, he was too horny to bail on his plans. Kohga nodded.

“It is, actually. BUT. I have one order to give you, got it?”

“I...suppose.”

“You have to stay put in that chair. No matter what. Understand?”

Sooga looked confused, but he nodded.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. But, an order is an order. I will stay seated.”

“Good. Good.”

Kohga grabbed his box of fun stuff, placing it right next to him, then laid on his back. He hoisted one leg over the other, arms behind his head.

“Okay, get comfy. Now, the first guy I dated was when I was...seventeen or so? I wanted to date earlier, but dad said to wait. Anyway, he was a merchant that’d come by every once and while. He was SUPER cute, and honestly? Not too bad of a kisser. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only guy he was seeing, but...well, I couldn’t complain, he was super cute. Nice hair. Always dated guys with nice hair.”

Kohga remembered those early years. Back when he didn’t know shit. Back when kissing was new and exciting to him. Sooga looked confused.

“I thought you said no one but you and your father saw your face.”

“Oh no, I NEVER took this off. A wise man caught nude will cover his face, not his privates.”

That made Sooga chuckle.

“A rather clever, yet lewd saying. Please, do continue.”

“Gladly.”

Kohga twiddled with his fingers as he recalled. Is he supposed to go in order? Or just whatever crossed his mind? He thought about it, before he thought about it.

“Oooh, then there was another one of my boyfriends. He was going through like, this weird hair phase? His hair was red, he had it up, and he was just. Big. Big, buff, and honestly he was just. Stupid. Let me tell you, I could grab onto his arm, and he could lift me up with absolutely no issues. We didn’t last long though, he thought he was hot shit. He GENUINELY said ‘babe, you’re pretty, but I’m prettier’. Can you imagine that? Ugh. Dude fucked good though, he REALLY did. He’d get all hot and sweaty after his work outs, and then. Well, dude fucked good. Real good.”

Kohga stripped himself free of his pants, and held his finger up when Sooga clearly wanted to ask questions. He stripped himself free, before getting comfy again, just stroking at his thighs.

“I remember once, when he got back from his trip across seas, he ended up fucking me right in the bar. We got just, so drunk, and he couldn’t keep himself off of me. He railed me in front of all his men, the barkeep, and pretty much who seemed to be paying attention. I was a young thing back then, a thick dick was all it took. I remember, I tried to give him his beer after he came in me, and I just, dumped it all over his chest by accident. He was a good sport about it, all I had to do was clean him up. Only, I didn’t have a rag, so...I had to improvise. Licked that dude like a lollipop.”

Sooga not so gracefully, grabbed a bottle of his favorite oil, and used it to rub along his thighs, just for a bit of a show, before sticking two fingers into his ass. Been a while since he touched himself like this, much less in front of someone else, and it felt GOOD, watching his greedy eyes upon him.

“It wasn’t a long relationship, but it was a fun one. Let's see, who else was there...ooh, there was that one guy. Dad HATED him, and I think there was a huge appeal in that. He was in charge of fixing trains and stuff. Big, muscle guy. Cute scar, tattoos, big hands. He wasn’t as rebellious as the other guy. We lasted a bit longer, but not by much. Super sweet. I remember he'd pick me out of nowhere, just because he could. That dude was the sorta romance then in your pants dance type. But he was KINKY. Dude really liked holding me down and giving it to me. I remember, we got REAL rough with it one time, he tied my hands up, tied me up in his workshop, and just railed my ass. Swore we almost got caught by a client once!"

Kohga laughed, really digging and stretching his ass.

"He taught me how to do this. Taught me how to get my nice, oily fingers inside of me. Taught me how to get nice and ready for the cocks he knew I wanted. In a way...he was my first.”

He snuck a glance at Sooga’s eyes, and he saw it. The little sparkles of jealousy. He knew he wasn’t his first, but knowing the details really got under his skin. Kohga introduced three fingers now, really arching his back as he felt himself be a little bit stretched. Sooga wasn’t goosey loosey down there, but he could take three fingers, knuckle deep, before he felt that familiar longing inside of him.

“Then...Then there was this other guy. Up until I started the clan, he was my partner in crime. Long hair, always kept in a ponytail. Nice, strong hands, and his eyes were something else. They were so...intense. Should’ve seen me the first time I caught those eyes, I was on him like a stack of bananas. He was the more...aloof than most of the guys I dated. He’d pop in and out, constantly looking for ways to get stronger. Never really got that guy. We would just..somehow end up in bed together. Sometimes it would be in a bed over some stable, sometimes it’d be some random, abandoned spot in the mountains. Either way, he’d fuck me, and be gone by morning. Hell, I don’t even think I caught his name. I just remembered we REALLY, REALLY liked each other.”

Kohga had to admit, recalling all of his past lovers was very, very fun. Recalling how many big, strong men wanted him, how each one fucked him differently, it was thrilling. He pulled his fingers out of himself, letting Sooga take a gander at his oiled, willing ass. The same ass that knew many, many men, and started to pump his cock. He would go on with his other boyfriends, but he didn’t want to wait longer. He wanted to hit Sooga right in that weak spot.

“Then the clan started. Those other blade masters...well. Let’s just say there’s a reason they’re so high in the ranks.”

He saw Sooga’s fingers grip onto the seats. He was already fuming from his past lovers, but his own peers? Oh, that was a way to get under a blade master’s hide. He was getting ANGRY. Not at Kohga of course, just the motion that ANYONE touched his precious Kohga.

“I remember once, a couple of them snuck into my room. They thought I was dead asleep, but I was very much awake. I felt them grope me, felt them pull at my clothes till it came off. Next thing I knew I had two in my ass, and two in my hands. Course I had that one guy in my mouth two, and the other three watching...oh who really knows? Once one was done, another guy took over. They pumped me full of cum, sucked and toyed with my cock. And I remembered I’d bark at them not to cum until I did, so they fucked me HARDER. Let me tell you, I have NEVER been that full of cum. Was practically swimming in it, and that was just how I liked it. I remembered them all tuckered out, asking if they pleased me.”

Kohga lifted his head up to look at his eyes. So angry, so jealous and furious, as if he was going to kill them for an absolute injustice.

“This...was the only case of them, yes?”

“Ooooh no. No. Not at all. Until you fell into the mix, I’d have a select few fuck me a few times a week. I still remember my favorite one. Big, strong guy. He’d tie my hands up in rope, nice and tight, and he’d just hold me down when he fucked me. He’d lean into my ear and whispered words dirty enough to make me shake. He was my favor-”

That was enough. Suddenly Sooga was on top of him, slamming his palm over Kohga’s mouth. Kohga was expecting something angry, something a bit kinky. But no. Sooga was FURIOUS. There was no stammering, no sweet talking, not even him asking as sweetly as he usually would. He just stuffed his cock in his eager, oiled ass, and fucked him. Fucked him with enough force that the head board kept knocking against the wall, that his hips ached from such a big, heavy body putting so much force into him.

"Stop it. Stop it. You're doing this to get a rise out of me. You want me to fuck you so badly, Master Kohga? I'll do that. I'll fuck you. I'LL be your favorite. No one else. Just me. Look at me."

And Kohga was LOOKING. Sooga had his legs wrapped around his own, keeping him in place so he had no choice but to take that nice, hard cock, right against that good fucking spot. Kohga tugged and clawed at his hand, as if he was trying to get Sooga off. Thank god Sooga knew better. Kohga just liked to thrash a bit, really MAKE his partner fuck his shit up. And Sooga was LOVING it. Kohga managed to move his mouth away a bit, trying not to grin too wildly.

"That's it, FUCK ME Sooga! Fuck my oiled ass, make me think of only YOUR cock!"

Kohga reached up to grab fistfulls of his uniform, yanking him to his face. Fuck that beautiful, panting face.

"Fuck me nice and proper, Sooga. Make me cum. Be my favorite boy, make my exes look like fucking LOSERS!"

Sooga may be pounding his ass like dough, but Kohga’s demands were still Kohga's. Sooga obeyed, shoving his fingers into Kohga’s pretty mouth, nearly making him gag as he continued to pound into him. Kohga knew he did that because he liked his dirty talk. Knew that he would cum if he listened to his pleading Master anymore, and he really, really wanted to be a good boy. Unfortunately, Sooga was so weak for his master. His fingers peeled out of his mouth, Sooga quickly becoming un done by not only his words, but his nice, tight body. Not that Kohga minded a small break from the rather large fingers. He was happy to sit there, moaning and grumbling, just absolutely so close to that edge.

“You LIKE fucking your Master Kohga, don’t you big guy?”

For a moment, they looked each other in the face, and Kohga only saw lust and competition. Exactly what he deserved to see in those big, pretty eyes of his. Sooga seemed to feel the exact same, as he leaned down, and pressed his forehead against his. For a moment, he was calm, still.

“I love you. More than anything. As such...I refuse to let your heart, or your loins, long for another.”

Translation? ‘Your ass is fucking mine’. This was right before Sooga put one hand on his chest, and the other on the headboard, continuing to slam his hips against Kohga. He couldn’t stop him (well he was strong enough to, but who the fuck would stop a BEAST like this?), and that’s how he liked it. He liked the force of his thrusts, liked the way the bed seemed to complain from the force, and loved, absolutely loved the feeling as hot seed was pumped into his insides. Kohga greedily raked his fingers down his back, finding himself cumming almost completely on time with Sooga. It had been SO long since that had happened, and it made poor Kohga’s body tremble. He sat there for a moment, letting Sooga finish emptying his balls right into him. It took a lot out of poor Sooga, given his panting, but his hips didn’t completely stop, instead settling for a nice, slow roll into Kohga.

“M...master Kohga? I’m...sorry.”

“Fucking hell Sooga, don’t you DARE apologize here, you ANIMAL.”

Kohga chuckled, wiping his face underneath his mask, finding himself drenched in sweat. Sooga shook his head.

“You don’t understand. I uh, do believe I broke the bed frame.”

Kohga was a bit too buzzed to fully understand, before it clicked. He leaned over a bit, and sure enough, Sooga broke three out of the four legs underneath his bed. What a feat. Kohga tossed his head back as he laughed, pushing into his shoulder.

“Oh, you were NOT kidding! Damn Sooga, look at you! Though you’re a big boy, shoot for all four next time.”

Sooga lightly shook his head, sighing. He could tell he was amused in his exhaustion.

“You’re relentless, Master Kohga, truly.”

Sooga’s finger danced up his chest, before he flicked his chin.

“The other Blade Master could do it.”

Sooga’s firm hand pushed onto his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of Kohga.

“You enjoy me putting me through trials, Master Kohga. You really, really do.”

“Oh, bite me, big boy.”

Sooga’s voice got nice and low, making Kohga nearly swoon underneath him.

“Is that a challenge?”

Something told Kohga, that Sooga was ready to prove himself as the best of the best.

Even if it took many, many more attempts.

[petes-peonies]

Tallies (1) || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: This AU is based on an idea from an old prompt in which people have tally marks to represent how many times they have fallen in love. 

Peter has fallen in love a couple times, but never been loved back, and thats where you come in. Peter is in college, would say around 21-23, and so is reader and company.

Author’s Note: This has honestly been something that I’ve been wanting to write for a while, and finally found the time to sit down and write it. Though still testing the waters, so please let me know. Would most likely try to be a slow burn, like definitely be more than four parts.

Word Count: 2K

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

“Ned, I told you, she isn’t in love with me,” Peter repeated for the eighth time in this same phone conversation, but that didn’t mean that it hurt any less.

“Are you sure? I mean it could just take a while for hers to show up soon?”

“Ned, I really don’t want to say this but she did have a red mark, but it wasn’t for me,” he finally caved and explained the one fact he has kept thus far, “I didn’t think she would pull something like this, that’s why she can’t love me…because she loves someone else,” he sighed almost feeling the tally mark was burning his skin.

“Oh, I’m sorry dude,” he said after a long pause.

“I know but it’s not something you should apologize for,” he sighed, trying not to remember the events that occurred that morning.

“You can always come with me and Betty to the movies tonight, we can invite a few more people so you don’t feel like third wheel,” wanting to switch topics to hopefully cheer his friend up.

Peter knew that his friend was really trying to help but he really couldn’t think of leaving his apartment. He really needed to process the whole situation rather than distract himself from it, because he knew when he was alone, he would feel this low again. He looked down at his wrist seeing nothing but black tallies on his wrist, and let out a long sigh.

“Pete, you still there?” pulling him out from his thoughts.

“Yea just thinking about the offer,” even though he already knew that he had the answer.

“How about you think about it and let me know. I don’t want you to feel pressured,” always the supportive friend. “I would cancel on Betty but…“

“Thanks Ned,  don’t think Betty deserves that,” smiling knowing that Ned will always be his ride or die. “Think I’m a sit this one out,” his eyes still focused on his wrist.

“Offer will stands till seven, but if not, I’ll stop by tomorrow with food and can talk about it,” wanting Peter to know that he’ll be there through thick and thin.

“Yea tomorrow would be nice, I’ll text you if anything happens,” affirming that he wasn’t going out tonight, “have a great date Ned.”

“Thanks Pete. Hope to see you soon then,” he said.

Both said their goodbyes, leaving Peter  to let out a long groan of frustration. The palms of his hands pressed against his eyes hoping to keep the tears in that he kept in the whole day. Another black tally mark etched on his skin, great another failed attempted at love.

It was at times like these that wished he never learned about the tally marks, but it’s something unavoidable. He remembers days in which his Aunt May would sit down and talk to him about the tally marks that would one day appear across his wrist and tried to do her best to explain it.

“Alright Peter, so one when you find someone you really love, you’ll one day see a black tally appear right here,” pointing out her own single red tally on her wrist.

“But yours is red,” child Peter pointing out the obvious.

“I know, but if the person you love, loves you back, then it will turn red. Just like mine, yours can start off black, only depending who falls for who first. I can tell you first hand that mine showed up a month before your Aunt May’s did,” puling Peter’s attention from his aunt to his see his uncle setting down his stuff. Ben walked over to the two ruffling Peter’s hair to distract him from giving May a quick kiss.

“Hey it’s not my fault that you fell in love sooner than I did,” she joked.

“Uh, yea it is, you didn’t make it easy for me,” he smiled, “So what is this tally mark talk about?”

“Just curious,” Peter responded, “besides our teacher was going to go over it soon and wanted a head start.”

Peter smiled his tears gaining a bittersweet taste to them but figured that he may as well let out any tears at this moment. He looked at his wrist, nothing but black tallies and he would be lying to himself if he said that it didn’t hurt him. He really didn’t get the idea of what was so difficult about loving him, but then again, it’s not like he can force someone to love him. But still he just felt like a below the belt when he saw his now ex-girlfriend, if she even considered herself that, sport a red tally that clearly wasn’t his. Peter let out a loud sigh, thinking it was just to just scour his social media and start to unfollow her but couldn’t force himself to delete old pictures of themselves.

Just a few moments later and Peter heard a large crash outside his door. Peter quickly got up and walked over to the door hearing already someone cussing from the other end.

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

You didn’t know whether to be mad at the carpet lining the floor or yourself for thinking it was a good idea to carry more than you actually could  because you really took a dive just now.  You were glad that the boxes you decided to carry were filled with things that wouldn’t break, but you couldn’t help the burn on your cheeks from embarrassment and hope that no one saw your fall.

You started to stack a few things to try to somewhat organize things, and decided now was a good time as any to open your door. You decided to take a few things with you hoping to prevent anyone from seeing your mishap. By the time you went back to your stuff, someone was already organizing your fallen mess.

“Hey, sorry about the mess in front of your door, just give me a couple minutes and it’ll be totally clear,” walking over to said mess.

“it’s no worry at all,” seeing the stranger get up and face you.

Your heart jumped to your chest seeing the face that although you have forgotten about over time, you could never truly forget. “Peter?” knowing full well that there was no doubt about it.

“uh do I know you?” his face really confused because he really couldn’t place your face to a name.

“It’s been a while, but remember me from middle school,” trying not to act like you weren’t even more embarrassed then just a moment before.

You could visually see his mind thinking back to middle school, and finally put the pieces together, “(Y/N)! Oh god, I’m sorry I didn’t remember, trust me have a few things on my mind,” and although you haven’t seen peter in years, you figured he still was the same bashful boy you hadn’t seen in years.

“no worries, I mean what are the odds, that your old middle school friend moves down the hall much less spill most of her stuff in front of your door,” trying not to  make anything more uncomfortable.

“yea guess so,” already sensing things slowly ease, “So you took over the empty loft, I think I heard about someone filling that room,” quickly picking up a few boxes, “ how about I help you out.”

Judging by him carrying boxes you knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, “sure guess we can catch up, plus definitely need the extra set of hands,” you said.

You didn’t know what it was about Peter but he really had a way to become instant friends with just about anyone that he met. You really were glad that he still was the same as the Peter you left behind at the end of middle school. It was almost easy being with Peter that it almost made it seem like you guys hadn’t seen each other in years but can already tell that moving in here was a great choice. You found out that he was still friends with Ned and kept in touch with Michelle, which he was already mentioning that he couldn’t wait to tell the others.  you really were glad that he already wanted to plan things out with you.

You would be lying to yourself if you couldn’t deny that although you could recognize Peter, he really had matured into someone very attractive, especially by your standards. The once round cheeks chiseled out into strong edges, small chucky arms and hands became defined and strong by the easiness that he carried large boxes. however, some traits didn’t change at all, his doe brown eyes still had the same glee and his smile still captured the room, at least it did in your opinion. But now with this stance and physique, he really could capture the room.

“So, you moving in all by yourself?” Peter asked bringing in heavier objects. You

“ Yea, just me though if its gets too pricey may ask one of my friends to move in with me,” you replied already seeing that more than half of your stuff was already moved in thanks to Peter’s help, “pretty sure she will like the space as well.”

You looked over at Peter seeing that he was staring at his phone, his default cheery attitude replaced by a saddened look.

“Peter, you alright buddy?”.

“Uh yea, just some,” not knowing the right words to say, or better yet not know the right words that didn’t make him want to cry again.

“Girl trouble,” you finished, doubting someone like him couldn’t be with anyone or have someone he’s interest in.

“Um, something like that,” figured that he didn’t know how to phrase it.

“You don’t have to talk about it, I mean we technically just met,” not wanting to push his limits, because you figured that he would tell you just to be nice.

“It’s not that, I just don’t want one of our few first conversations to be about how my girlfriend got a red tally,”  the words sounding so sour, “my bad I think I don’t think she was my girlfriend to begin with.”

“Red tally, then isn’t that a good thing?” not really understanding the problem.

“Yeah her and whoever she’s interested in, but definitely not for me,” lifting the side of his wrist and showing his black tallies., “just figured she’d be the first you know,” he said melancholy as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Hey her loss and their loss too, because I can already tell you that you have already been one of my better random male encounters in a while,” trying to cheer him up, though you figured you were failing at it.

Peter let out a small chuckle, “very funny but think I’m going to head out. Ned's meeting me tomorrow for food, you’re more than welcomed to come,” he said trying to switch to lighter topics, “I’ll knock, see if you’re free ok”

“yea, sounds like a plan and really thanks for the help couldn’t do it without you.”

Peter said a small goodbye and walked out leaving you to finally press your hand against your chest. Your heart was racing, you knew that of course spending time with someone attractive like Peter was going to make you react but it was more. You knew that although you were glad to have met up with peter, but you weren’t sure if it was such a good idea in the long run. You finally decided to look down on your wrist, your eyes locking on your first tally mark. Your fingers traced over the black tally, knowing full well that the person who this tally represents is none other than your new neighbor, Peter Parker.

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

End Author’s Note: So that was part 1, please let me know how it is. Still in debate if i should include peter being Spiderman, that is the other main opinion I would want, since I am really on the fence. Once again this is planned out to be a somewhat slowburn. 

Suggestions? Taglists

Currently posted this on another blog, in the process of moving URLs

[captainjimothycarter]

So if you've seen AOS, you've seen Whitehall/Werner Reinhardt who tore apart a woman Peggy saved to turn himself young. I propose the AU image where he kidnaps and deages a 93 year old Peggy because it's no fun gloating to/winning over an old lady, and the Avengers show up in time to help her kick his ass. Peggy who was 93 and is now outraged to be like 22 again so she matches the age she screwed Werner over.

holy shit this is 1.3k words??? nonny what did you do to me

I don’t think Peggy saved her but I could be wrong? I don't’ remember the seasons well. I binged all 6 seasons in 2 months to get ready for S7. So my brain was friiiied. Also I apologize for not getting right back to you, long day.

--

Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. Steve never thought he would be begging the images on the monitor to be wrong before but here he was. 

He tried to ignore apparently a not-dead Coulson and Agent May’s looks. His hand gripped the shield tightly and tried to steady his breathing, his eyes never pulling from the screen until Fitz had switched it off.

“Captain Ro-“ Coulson began, a limit timid.

“Steve.”

“Steve. I know what you’re thinking, what you want to happen but we’ve been over these images a hundred times, and a hundred times more with the best people we have at our disposal, these images are real.”

“They can’t be!” Steve wasn’t aware of the anger rising in him until he was clenching his fist, looking between the two head agents.

“And why the hell not?” May asked, giving Steve a firm look. “I think you out of all people should know the mysterious circumstances of things and how the world works. We wouldn’t have called you here if we didn’t think they were real, Captain Rogers.”

Steve didn’t correct her, honestly, he didn’t even hear her. All he felt was the pain of his fist going through Coulson’s wooden desk. They ignored the fluttering of files and clutter of items collapsing to the floor. His knuckles were most likely broken but at this point, the pain was a welcome distraction.

“Because there’s no way in hell Peggy would agree under any circumstances to work with that bastard. She put him away for good! I read her records, we all have. She wouldn’t use him to-to deage. That’s not Peggy.”

“People change,” Hunter mused, shrugging his shoulders. Steve hadn’t even seen the man come in, his hands held up when Steve whirled on him and took three strides closer. There was a good foot height difference between them. “She’s dying and when people start to go, they get desperate. Look, Cap no ones blaming her if she did but the evidence says she’s working for Whitehall and if that’s so, then-“

Steve’s hand closed around Hunter’s neck before he could stop himself, seeing nothing but red. He didn’t choke the man or lift him from the floor, much as he wanted to. He just stared straight into his eyes, aware that May had pulled her gun on him.

“If you’re saying that Hunter, then you never truly knew Peggy. You have no damn idea what the hell she and I have been through during that war so you can sit here and serve Shield and not Schmidt. What the hell the both of I have lost. Agent Carter is a better person than I will ever be. She has morals and ideas that I can never match.”

Coulson’s hand laid over May’s arm, giving a shake of his head. They watched Steve stalk out of the room, the other agents scurrying out of the way.

“What the hell was that for?” Hunter groaned, rubbing at his neck.

“You perfectly insulted his ex-fiance,” Coulson replied, picking up the model of Lola from the floor. “If you ask me, Cap let you off easy.”

--

Clint and Natasha were not happy to have been lied to. Tony says he wasn’t surprised, Bruce was just more relieved than any of them. Thor said in a sheepish tone that he already knew thanks to Lady Sif, then came another whole term of arguments between them until things settled. And for the most part, Steve sat away from them, listening to the debate about Coulson and the very fact Peggy Carter was not only alive but young and working with Hydra.

“That’s not her,” Steve muttered to Natasha when she sat beside him, throwing her feet up on the table.

“I know.” Simply put. She knew.

“That can’t be her. Peggy would rather die than work with Hydra. Not Whitehall, not of all people. She-she can’t.”

“Regardless of the story, Steve, we’ll understand it. Fully.”

--

It was two full days later before Fitz was able to determine a location based on the photos. An underground base through a history of ownership dated back to Schmidt. That makes sense. Just hearing that name made Steve’s blood boil. He could barely listen to Coulson and his plan. All he could think of was Peggy and what the hell Whitehall could be doing to her.

The plan was quickly forgotten about when Steve heard Peggy’s whimpering pain. He threw his shoulder into the door, holding his shield tightly in his hand.

There she was, just as the photos had dictated. Laid out on a gurney, strapped down with blood pumping through her system.

This wasn’t the same Peggy as before. She was younger, much younger and despite the lack of gray hair and wrinkles, her eyes were just as sharp. They fell to Steve and she gritted her teeth, tugging on the bonds.

“Take another step towards me, soldier and you’ll find the reason Whitehall strapped me here.” Steve couldn’t help but to smirk at Peggy’s smart comment. That was her. “Who are you and why in the hell are you wearing Captain Rogers’ face?”

“Peggy, it’s me,” Steve said slowly, calmly, not letting go of the Shield. “It’s you. God, its really you.” He was trying not to cry, to be sedimental but he couldn’t. Tears burned in his eyes as he reached slowly to pull out his dented dog tags.

“Cap, we gotta go,” Tony warned.

She gritted her teeth, that machine, whatever the hell it was, was causing her pain. He couldn’t destroy it, couldn’t get near it without hurting her. “F-fine!” She snapped. “Prove to me you’re Captain Rogers then. Tell me one thing only he would know.”

“July 4th,” Steve said simply, knowing he wasn’t helping Peggy believe him. “1944. You went out of your way to buy me a birthday cake from a lady in town. It was…terrible. God, it was terrible. It tasted like charcoal. Seeing you take a bite, you almost spat it back out but I choked it down for both our sakes because you went through so much trouble.” He paused, trying to think if it was enough. And in the off chance.

“You got sick one winter. Really sick, to the point Phillips considered sending you back to London so you could see a real doctor, not be in the midst of the cold weather. You refused. You were delirious with a fever and so cold. He let me take you to a room you rented and take care of you. I had to nurse you back to health with my ma’s recipes and limited cooking skills. That’s the first time you told me you loved me.”

There it was, that look in her eyes. She believed him without saying a word. Steve rushed forward and undid the needles from her arm, being careful not to tear a vein. “Later,” Peggy whispered to Steve’s worried looks as he picked her up and threw her on his back, leaving his hands free for the shield. “How did you find me?”

“Sleepy and Dopey,” Steve mused despite Peggy’s confused look thrown at the back of his head. “Coulson, Stark?”

“Come on!” The shouting order from Clint and Bobbi at the end of the hall lead Steve to run straight to them. One ahead, one behind is how they made it to ground level and just in time for the warehouse to collapse in on itself, causing a giant sinkhole right in the middle of a large field in God knows where in this arctic.

Coulson shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around Peggy’s shoulders, letting Mack and Hunter take her straight to the Quin Jet. “Director Carter,” he mused with a polite smile, turning to look at Steve. “We’ll have to keep her for questioning. Make sure –“

“I’m staying,” Steve said firmly, daring the man to say otherwise.

Instead, Coulson smiled and patted Steve’s arm. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

[lan-xichens]

wait no i also want to recognise that everything you said about wwx is super valid like i feel there's less of a debate there but!! oh shit wait maybe wwx does also have rejection sensitive dysphoria (an emotional sensitivity and pain triggered by the perception that a person has been rejected or criticized by important people in their life. It may also be triggered by a sense of falling short—failing to meet their own high standards or others’ expectations.)

sorry for the complete spam but the rejection sensitive dysphoria can also lead to outbursts when you externalize it, ie in anger etc.- but it can also lead you to become like a people's pleaser (like i kinda do feel this sounds more like wwx) as for the like- starting something and not wanting to stop, i think it's a hyperfocus thing, bc you start something and you get in the flow and then you're afraid to stop bc when you pick it up again you won't feel the same (nd then you overwork yourself)

No no not spam at all! Sorry I couldn’t get to it the other day, but thanks for elaborating on this. But rejection sure is a theme amongst Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng like, oof.

But I definitely see how you brought that up for Jiang Cheng because, his entire life and story seem to revolve around him trying to earn his place and win the respect of those he cares about, but both intentionally and unintentionally, he keeps being sidelined.

First, by his parents:

And, both Jiang Cheng’s looks and personality took after his mother. He hadn’t ever been to Jiang FengMian’s liking. Since birth, he taught him in many ways, yet he still couldn’t change, which was why Jiang FengMian had always seemed as though he didn’t favor him too much.

Jiang Cheng pulled Wei WuXian’s hand away and stood up, letting out his anger, “I know! I know that I don’t have the personality he likes, that I’m not the heir he wants. He thinks that I don’t deserve to be Sect Leader, that I don’t understand the motto of the Jiang Sect, that I don’t have the air of the Jiang Sect in me at all! Those are all true!” - GDC chapter 56

How do you compete for the affection and approval of your parents if one of them rejects your entire being based on your personality? Jiang Fengmian’s favouritism towards Wei Wuxian is one of the massive parts influencing how JC and WWX interact, because there must be so so so much jealousy involved on Jiang Cheng’s part.

But even his mother never pulls her punches in criticising him, and adds fuel to this fire.

Jiang Cheng sat still as he looked up at her, “Mom.”

Madam Yu stood up and mocked, “What do you want me to do? Like your father, you want me to hold my tongue? You really are an idiot. I’ve told you long ago that you’ll never in your whole life be able to surpass the one sitting beside you. Not over cultivation, not over night-hunting, even over shooting kites, you can’t surpass him! It can’t be helped. Who could change the fact that your mom is worse than another’s? Worse it is, then. Your mom feels injustice for you, tells you countless times not to fool around with him, yet you’re still defending him. Just how did I give birth to a son like you?!” - GDC chapter 51

So between the two of his parents, there’s no pleasing either, no matter how hard Jiang Cheng tries to win their approval and live up to their expectations. I feel this is why Wei Wuxian attributes a competitive nature to him, but he misconstrues that; I don’t think Jiang Cheng seeks competition so much as he seeks approval, understanding the expectations of him as the future sect leader. He’s not trying to out-do Wei Wuxian’s cultivation because he wants to be better, necessarily, he just wants to prove to both his parents that he’s not... lesser than him. But he wouldn’t have had to do it if they hadn’t been the ones to constantly pit him against his brother in the first place!

But even with the situation being like that (and while we can address it in meta, I know this is probably not something Jiang Cheng could ever admit to himself or to any close to him lest he insults his parents), but even then, he seems to be able to take it in stride so long as Wei Wuxian doesn’t turn his back on him.

And that’s the unintentional part, because this does sadly happen, at least on the surface.

Their conversation at the Burial Mounds is one I’ve wanted to scream about for so long, because the miscommunications there run so deep you couldn’t see the bottom of it. But focussed on rejection, it’s this:

A while later, Jiang Cheng spoke, “Wei WuXian, have you still not realized what the situation at hand is like? Do you really need me to say it out loud? If you insist on protecting them, then I won’t be able to protect you.”

Wei WuXian, “There’s no need to protect me. Just let go.”

Jiang Cheng’s face twisted. - GDC chapter 73

As some super helpful posts have already pointed out, Wei Wuxian’s defection from the Jiang clan is a disloyal thing to do, regardless of his reasons. But I also think that, to some extent, Jiang Cheng feels it as a personal rejection as well.

CQL adds two very painful exchanges here:

JC: They turn out to be a group of the old, young, and weak. All useless! WWX: All useless? Can’t you speak in a good manner?

Jiang Cheng means they are no threat, so the sect leaders are wrong. Wei Wuxian hears him dismiss the lives of those he must consider worthless. This leads up to:

JC: What on earth are you doing this for? WWX: Jiang Cheng, I’ll tell you honestly. Even if it weren’t for Wen Qing and her brother, or for anyone else, I’d make the exact same choice.

Jiang Cheng asks why he would turn his back on the Jiang clan, Wei Wuxian hears him challenge his righteousness and his reason for protecting the innocent. Wei Wuxian explains he would do the right thing for anyone, Jiang Cheng hears he would always choose to reject the Jiang clan, and by extension himself, no matter for who it was.

This comes back at the Guanyin Temple:

On the other hand, Jiang Cheng refused to give up, shouting, “Wei WuXian, who was the one who broke his promise and betrayed the Jiang Sect first? Tell me. That I’d be the sect leader and you’d be my subordinate, that you’d help me your whole life, that so long as the GusuLan Sect had its Two Jades, the YunmengJiang Sect would have its Two Prides, that you’d never betray me or betray the Jiang Sect—who was the one that said these?! I’m asking you—who was the one that said all these?! Did you eat all your fucking words?!”

He got more agitated as he ranted on, “And in the end? You go and protect outsiders, haha! The Wen Sect’s people, even. How much of their rice did you eat?! Defecting with such resolution! What did you take our sect to be?! - GDC chapter 102

Actually, while I love rewatching this scene as so many things keep jumping out at me, it’s even better to reread this part in the novel. I’d forgotten how much extra background we get on just how far this misunderstanding goes.

Why does Wei Wuxian tell him to let things go, and not to keep this matter in his heart?

Wei WuXian pressed his temples, “Forget it. It’s all in the past now. Let’s not mention it again.”

It wasn’t something he liked to reminisce about. He didn’t want to be reminded again and again of what it felt like when his core was cut out or what price he had to pay. If this were exposed in the past, he’d most likely laugh and comfort Jiang Cheng, ‘It’s not that big of a deal anyways. Look at me all these years. Without the core, I still managed to come through, didn’t I? Beating everyone I wanted to beat, killing everyone I wanted to kill.’ But now, he indeed didn’t have the strength left to put up such a confident, nonchalant pretense. - GDC chapter 103

Maybe I was the one who misintrepreted this line in my head, but CQL makes it seem so much like Wei Wuxian is fully at peace with giving up his core, and he wants to impress on Jiang Cheng to find his peace with it as well. But in truth, it’s exactly the opposite, because Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to admit to how difficult it was and still is for him, but he doesn’t want to show him that his decision haunts him.

Which just smacks of a conversation they still need to have.

And also begs the question why CQL went for the second bolded line; why have Wei Wuxian smile and comfort him and try to soothe things over? It was an incredibly sweet moment, sure, but the words were so confusing to me, and now I see why. His heart shouldn’t have been in it at all.

None of this addresses Wei Wuxian’s relationship with rejection at all - how he always struggles to find his place and to solidify his standing with certain people, but how it’s always on loose screws. But the way he treats himself as disposable, especially towards the Jiang clan, was still the whole catalyst for this situation in the first place.

[jeonggukingdom]

splinters of love • day II [ksj]

pairing  ⟶ kim seokjin x fem!Reader

summary  ⟶ a collection of drabbles (one for each day of April) based on prompts by an online prompts’ generator site. Specifically  ⟶  • day II  ↳ in which you are too sore from working out to lift your arms so your boyfriend volunteers to help you but you quickly realize it was just an excuse to tickle you to the point of tears.

genre  ⟶ fluff rating  ⟶ PG-17 word count  ⟶ 1.230 words

warnings  ⟶ none except for a whole lot of cuteness, silliness, loving kisses and light allusions to sex.

series masterlist  ⟶ here  (links on mobile may not work, if you’re looking for all the works in this series, you can click on the “!splintersoflove” tag and you’ll find them all there!)

They said go to the gym, it’ll be fun. They said you’re going to feel better after, you’re going to feel so energized. And you believed them.

Nobody had mentioned, though, the pain you were going to be after. Especially your gym-enthusiast boyfriend.

Most importantly, everyone had failed to tell you that the day after wasn’t going to be the worst, oh no, the day after that would be an absolute challenge.

Fast forward to now and the defeated look on your face as you stare at yourself in the mirror after a long day at work with absolutely no will to try and undress yourself.

Getting in and out of clothes had been a challenge all in itself since your first workout in, well, forever, and now the sole idea of lifting your arms up makes you shudder.

You’re considering the idea of sleeping like this, in your work clothes, and just call it a day when your boyfriend enters the room, a little teasing smile already plastered on his plump lips.

A pout forms on yours, instead, as you turn around towards him with a pleading gaze.

“I can’t lift my arms right,” you whine, silently asking him to help you which, much to your surprise, he quickly volunteers for.

You fail to notice the little wicked grin that twists his lips as soon as he grasps the hem of your shirt though, your thoughts already fixed on the sensation of his warm digits brushing against your skin.

You hum at the familiar comfort of his touch, your head tilts a little backward as you relish in the sweet gesture of him lifting up your shirt for you, inch after inch, and then… you jolt in surprise, a scream of utter horror leaving your parted lips as his fingers turn from pleasuring to tormenting.

Here’s the thing, ever since you were a kid, you had been ticklish. No joke, all it took from friends and family was to even hint at the fact that they were going to tickle you and you were running away already laughing at the idea of feeling their hands on your skin.

Neck, armpits, stomach, sides, feet, you name it. Everything in your body is ticklish and Seokjin knows this very well and as you open your eyes to fix them on him you realize that it was no accident at all.

He is laughing at you, mirth shining in his eyes as he inches his fingers up enough to catch the exact spot where your sides are the most sensitive and then, he begins his attack.

In a matter of seconds, you are laughing, pleading him to let you go, squirming under his warm torturing touch until you are practically out of breath, running away from him.

Seokjin laughs at you, his laugh so bright and clear as he chases you through the bedroom until you are both falling on the mattress and he is pinning you down to torture you to his own volition.

You look up at him then, tears shining in your eyes from laughing too much and you beg for peace, you try to surrender to him completely, promising you’ll do whatever he asks of you and for a moment, he seems to consider this but then, his hands go under your shirt once more and they pick up where they left from.

Your giggles mix with his laughter until you are both crying, panting and he is finally releasing you from his grasp.

“You are so mean!” You say with a pout on your lips and Seokjin chuckles at that, inches forward enough for your foreheads to touch.

“Maybe… but I know you secretly love it.”

Next thing you know, his lips are on top of yours, savouring you, claiming you, melting you like butter under the sun until you’re not sure anymore where he ends and you begin.

You lose yourself inside the kiss, your eyes firmly shut and thoughts rendered inconsequential already by the deep bliss of having him like this.

Goosebumps gather on your flesh seconds after his digits find their way back under your shirt but this time, it is not to tease and torment but rather to caress and cherish.

You shiver into him and he smiles on top of your lips knowing oh-too-well how much you love his touch, how much you desire to feel him like this, to be owned by him in every little way possible.

Silently, he finally frees you from your shirt, his eyes travelling from your face to your chest in an instant, lust filling his gaze for a brief second before he turns his attention away, fixes it on the hem of your pants as he slowly drags them down your legs.

You shiver once more, this time not only due to his gaze but to the cold air hitting your naked skin.

There is no hiding how much you desire him, how much you’d love to let him do anything to you right about now and Seokjin, almost reading your thoughts, shakes his head no a couple of times.

He kisses your temple instead and then reaches under your cushion to grab your pyjamas and delicately pull it over you.

You smile in pure gratefulness at him as he kisses the top of your nose before pulling you into him so that you can rest your head atop his broad chest.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He asks in a whisper, his eyes fixed on the ceiling because despite him being a confident little ass most of the times, he’s actually incredibly shy when it comes down to his most true and raw emotions.

You hum, tilting your head upwards to seek his gaze, pull it towards you so that you can drown inside his loving onyx gaze.

“Enough to give up on amazing sex because I’m too sore to function?” You ask, chuckling at your own words as he snorts, shaking his head but pulling you into him more, his fingers tracing your shoulder in an automatic gesture that makes you feel all warm and giddy inside.

“I love you too,” you murmur then, inching yourself up just enough to place a tender kiss on top of his lips and bask in the way he smiles at you then, humming in response to your words as he closes his eyes.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he says then, his voice barely above a whisper as his body relaxes next to yours, “You’ll need the energy for tomorrow.”

Your eyebrows knit together for a second in confusion, your lips protruding slightly forward.

He hums again, slowly opening his eyes to fix them back on you.

“I have every intention to give you that amazing sex session you just mentioned first thing in the morning,” his allusive words and the serious gaze that follows make you giggle, slap his chest jokingly until he’s laughing too.

He’s such a dork sometimes but damn, do you love everything about him.

So you fall asleep like this, in his embrace, feeling giddy and expectant for the morning to come so that you can feel more of his hands on you, more of his lips, more of his sex pressed hard against yours until you are screaming each other’s name for everyone to hear.

Copyright © 2020 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. Do not repost, do not steal, do not translate without consent.

[divinationcentral]

Pick-A-Card: Love & Romance What’s next?

Choose: Left to Right - 1, 2, 3. 

Reveal: 

#1. The Hanged Man - Sacrifice. Bonding. A strong bond, even if platonic; magic action against impediments and impotence. 

Right now you may be considering how you can break this barrier between you and another person. Likely there is something very important holding the two of you together... like say a relationship you’ve come to build over time. You may be friends with this person already, and you may not be certain how to move into a more favorable relationship with them, say, one where there is intimacy involved. 

You, yourself may be afraid of these intimate acts. Not because they’re scary, but because there is an element of how good you will perform in bed lets say, that kind of keeps you uncertain of moving towards that next step. I think if you need to, try and find a way to balance your desires with your respect for this person, and concern yourself with sex after the fact: in which you’ve already established a strong and committed partnership/relationship with them (so you are more comfortable being open about the subject matter). That way the intimate aspect of the relationship can be explored, later, together, with no shame attached to it. 

Continue doing what you are doing. You are building up to that moment. Right now it’s just a period of creating the atmosphere for it, if you will... 

You want to ask them. There is a right time and place, and you will come to recognize it with some patience. This person will surrender to you in a very intimate way, if you can savor the commitment at it’s finest: which is here in the present. And you can have that moment just a little while longer. 

#2. The Page of Pentacles - Arousal. The Magic of the Wine Goblet. Transgression leads to excitement, but neither one nor the other can last without some moderation. 

You may have to draw a line between “transgression” & “excitement” haha... A transgression is doing something that you’re not supposed to. Excitement is self explanatory... You may be doing something with someone that you find exciting, but isn’t your norm/ not your usual, or may even be a little frowned upon (like maybe you shouldn’t be having sex with this individual at all, but you want to? or be involved in some way). BUT, this could range from anything like: sex on the first date, to trying something new with an already established partnership (like: kinks, or just, different - could be kissing on the first date for all I know, lol, doesn’t have to be all that crude). 

Anyway... Whatever it is. I think it excites you to get to know someone new (or this side of someone is incredibly new to you). Maybe someone who isn’t your type. They stir up feelings within you that you may not understand all that well at this moment in time (which I admit, could cause confusion within you), but you do know it’s something like this: they desire you. That... for lack of a better word - excites you! It turns you on! 

Remember to distinguish between what is exciting you, vs. what it is that this person can actually offer you (and what is actually good for you). :) And base that comparison to what you are looking for in this partner (or a partner in general). Do they match up? And do you maybe just need to take it a little slow with them instead? 

It will help you achieve long term success with someone. Not just a moment of passion. (Unless that’s what you were gunning for lol - I don’t judge - I just don’t recommend it if you’re the I WANT A BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND/LONG TERM PARTNERSHIP type, because you’re just gonna hurt yourself again, even if you happen to be the fuckboi reading this - and yes, I mean to use that as in all inclusive term). 

Have your priorities straight: what is this person bringing to the table. Do you want it? Would you like to go through with it? If it’s something you’ve done before, would you like to do it again? Is it a one time thing? Can you handle it? Is it going to satisfy you in the end? 

I feel like this pile is a variety bag hahaha, you have to pull from the bag of paper clippings and see what fortune you get. Maybe a lot of people chose this... Just know it doesn’t indicate something bad. It just means that you need to tone it down, whatever you are currently doing within your partnership. It’s driving somebody mad hahahahaha (that could be a good or a bad thing - you get to decide in the end). 

You may just be someone who’s very different, and they don’t know how to handle it. They don’t know how to handle you. “One minute you’re this way, one minute you’re that...” Well damn, catch up then lol. Anyway! 

You’ll have to decide how much longer you want to play this game, because in the end, it really is one or the other without some moderation to it.

Are you friends? Are you partners? Is she your girlfriend/boyfriend? Is it just sex? None of those answers are wrong, because I am not here to shame. 

That’s it. :) Have your priorities straight! In the end, it’s all about you baby, and what you want from it (what you stand to gain).  🌹

#3. Two of Swords - Inviting. The Magic of the Black Chicken. Empathy and understanding are born of promising the right things and then keeping one’s own promises. 

I think right now you may have to evaluate how much you are willing to give to a person you are dealing with. You can only truly fulfill someone’s wishes, if they are... kind of like your own. 

When we care about someone, we care because we understand what kind of love we wish to receive in that moment (say we are down, or we want to celebrate an achievement, etc)... so we are able to pay it forward, and then receive it in turn, because we’ve received this love in the past (it’s a form of reciprocity that knows compassion, compromise, understanding and forgiveness with one another). 

In love it’s much the same: we give what we can take (or even what we’ve learned to take). If you want to make a promise to someone, or make a commitment to them, make sure this is something you can and want to follow through with. Otherwise, you will be disingenuous, and that can truthfully hurt the person you claim to care for so much in this moment.  

Hold back. Think about what you are making promises with, and to whom. If it’s fair, and you are balanced - then this person just expects you to remain that way. 

Honest, sincere, helpful, and kind. Be that way. It’s who you are, no matter what stage of the relationship you are in. 

That said: if someone has recently promised you something, like say a commitment, you expect them to follow through with it. 

Even if it’s something like them saying they’re going to marry you, “boo you up,” lol... You expect this. See them follow through with it. Hold them to it. 

“Promising the right things” is also a deeper statement: you can’t just promise whatever thing to this person. There is something they care about, very clearly, and you need to know what that is. And vice-versa. This person can’t just promise you any little thing. They need to follow through with something that is actually important to you, something that matters to you. They can’t just make the statement that they will. 

If you value marriage - then it’s marriage that they need to be able to offer you. If it’s little random dates - then it is that. If it’s a promise ring - then it’s a promise ring. If it’s staying with you through thick and thin (say hardship in general) - then is that, and they can’t just flake when things get hard. That’s when it most is important to you. 

You also need to learn this about your partner. What is important to them? Have you made a promise recently? Keep it. Keep it if you care.