#like he thinks I don’t have any choice in the matter

[dustisus]

I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again:

Jean doing things for himself is what healing would look like for him.

He should be able to make his own choices, even if those choices are stupid or thought to be the wrong ones. He gets to mess up, and not be punished for it. He should get carded and no one makes too much of a fuss about it. He should be allowed to eat what he wants, when he wants, whether it’s the healthy things he’s used to or an unfamiliar treat, and it’s a balance he should be allowed to control. He should say no to things. Anything. Just because he needs to know that nothing bad will happen when he does so. He should be allowed to break off all contact with Kevin if he wants to, or try to rebuild whatever they had on a more even ground. But his relationship with Kevin is not be what saves or dooms him anymore, and that is what matters. He should be violent, because it is all that he knows, and not be met with violence in turn, but instead some softness he can learn from.

Jeremy, Cat, and the rest of the Trojans are a safety net where he can observe and learn that he has choices, and that he is safe, but I don’t think they should be making choices for him. I understand that they want to protect him, but did it to Jean not seem like the Ravens’ actions were well-meant, or at least deserved, as well? Jean has been beaten into not standing up for himself, put on a tight leash and starved for agency. Why would a softer hand acting from love feel any different, when it is still not his own hand? Would that hand not do better in leading Jean to freedom? The beaten dog cowers for the fist and the hand that wishes to pet all the same. Jean has never gotten indepence. He has always been reliant on someone else’s decisions, someone else’s mercy, someone else’s reign. He should not be put in a situation where he feels dependent on someone else’s strength, or kindness, or pity in turn.

Jean Moreau will endure. Jean Moreau will endure, but he should not only have to endure the situations he is put in. He should get to be the subject, and not the subjected, in the story about him.

[thesoobfiles]

a dance of two swords – l. haechan (m)

word count: 6.4k

summary: boy meets girl. boy falls in love with girl. girl happens to be an assassin sent to take care of boy. yk, classic love story.

prompt: “all that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes!”

tagging: @kookthief @honajoong

a/n: thank you so much to everyone who voted and helped me decide to make this one part! this is my first time writing for an idol, so I hope this doesn’t go terribly wrong! but it’s an AU (heir!Haechan x assassin!reader) so I think there’s room for a few OOC moments ☝️ also, i never give the voice behind the comms a name so feel free to imagine it as any NCT member or idol of your choice! most importantly, this is NSFW! if you’re a minor, please don’t interact!

Thursday, Sept. 1, 20XX

“Whoever chose this bright ass yellow as the school-issued uniform needs to be studied…” You mumbled under your breath as you begrudgingly put your arms through the blazer of your school uniform. Smoothing out the wrinkles in a frustrated fashion, you looked over your appearance in the bathroom mirror before a voice rings out through your comms.

“(Y/N), relax. Remember, everyone else is wearing the same uniform, so it’s easier to blend in… Besides, isn’t it nice to wear an official high school uniform? Or have a real first day of school? You know, experience a normal childhood?”

Let’s rewind, shall we? You aren’t necessarily your run of the mill senior high school student. No no, you’re an assassin. Born and raised in the confines of an underground facility your home country swore they didn’t have anymore. Extensively trained in hand-to-hand combat as well as quite skilled in a few close-range weapons such as the sword, the nunchucks and your personal favorite, the dagger.

You were flown out to South Korea so you could handle a special issue that your Korean counterparts were unsuccessful with: taking care of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, often called “Haechan” by friends, is the son of an incredibly successful man. Lee’s father runs Spade Inc. It’s like if you were to take Google, Samsung and Apple, roll them into one company, and put one man in charge. Obviously, this means that Lee and his entire family are worth tons of money; however, no one has been successful in tapping into this gold mine.

You were about to change all that.

“Short skirts were never really all that desirable to me, in all honesty. God, i’d be flashing the entire student body if I were to bend over and tie my shoes…” you replied with distaste as you returned to your reflection in the mirror, spinning around so that you could fix your bow.

“Besides, it’s much easier to kick ass in my polyester.” You say, walking out of the bathroom with your bag slung over shoulder.

“If you say so…look alive, target is approaching.”

You look up just in time to see the man of the hour: Lee Donghyuck.

He’s walking straight for you, or at least it looked like he was. He makes a sharp turn as soon as you open your mouth, and it feels like he walks past you in slow motion. You turn your head in his direction with your mouth still slightly agape, he looks at you from the corner of his eye and he smirks as he walks into the men’s bathroom.

You close your mouth, clear your throat, and pretend that wasn’t the tiniest bit embarrassing.

“Or not… my bad…”

“Yeah, it IS your bad…” you whisper with a bite as you check your watch.

“12:20… lunch period is almost over…” you sigh as you walk away from the bathrooms and toward your final class. Luckily, you share this class with Donghyuck, so you’ll see him later. You actually share 3 out of 4 classes with him, but you can’t really take Sex Ed III with him since each block is separated by gender. A precaution taken by the school to avoid unnecessary ruckus in the classrooms. No matter how old they get, boys will be boys.

You push the door of the classroom open and scan the room for potential threats. Unless two girls giggling in the front left corner counted as a threat, you were in the clear. You settle into a seat in the back corner and whip out your laptop. The seat is by a window and it’s in the very last row, the best seat for emergency exits and observing your target. No matter where Donghyuck sits, you’ll have the perfect visual of him.

As soon as the warning bell rings, you feel someone plop into the seat next to you. You turn your head to your right and suddenly, you’re seeing the visuals of Lee Donghyuck a LOT closer than you initially expected. You mask your surprise the best you can, blink twice, and return your focus to your laptop.

Boy, the photos do him no justice whatsoever. This man is nothing short of drop dead gorgeous.

“Not even a hello, darling?” you hear from your right.

You furrow your eyebrows and whip your head towards the voice, “Excuse me, do we know each other?” you ask incredulously.

“Not yet. I’ve seen you in a few of my classes and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Lee Donghyuck, but you can call me Haechan.” He flashes you a smile with his right hand extended in your direction.

At the same time, a familiar voice rings out through your comms.

“Damn, could you sound any more enthusiastic?”

You roll your eyes in response and take his hand. You’ve read plenty of documents about Donghyuck and his personality, so you know that he likes it when they play hard to get. You extend your hand in his direction and introduce yourself.

“Kim Suji.” You lie through your teeth as you watch him tenderly grab your hand and kiss the back of it. You’d be a liar if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

“A Korean name?” he asks curiously. Which is entirely fair because you don’t look like you have a single Korean bone in your body.

“From my mother’s side.” You immediately respond.

“아 그럼 수지씨의 한국어를 어때요? (Ah, then how is your Korean?)” Haechan asks with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“나쁘지 않아요, 동혁씨. (Not bad, Donghyuck.)” you reply with a smile as you retract your hand and face your laptop.

“Wow, he really tried you like that… Good thing you took those Korean classes over the Japanese ones…”

You chuckle as the final bell rings.

“Good afternoon, class. My name is Professor Ryu and welcome to Advanced Song Writing!”

You can feel Donghyuck still looking at you, but he looks way when the teacher starts calling names for attendance.

You get through the class with no issues. You focus on paying attention and before you know it, there’s only 5 minutes left of class.

“Alright class, thank you for bearing with me through the first day formalities. At the end of the semester, you’ll have to turn in a song that follows the criteria in the rubric I mentioned earlier. I’ll post it for everyone’s convenience.”

The teacher pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, looking at the clock on the back wall of the classroom.

“Alright, there’s only a minute left. Everyone, look at your desk mate. This person will be your partner for the end of semester project. Please take good care of each other and let’s get along! That’s it for today's class! See everyone tomorrow!”

The bell rings seconds after her ending comment and the classroom erupts in noise. Friends high fiving, acquaintances exchanging numbers and peers introducing themselves to each other.

“Alright, Donghyuck. It looks like we’re part-.” You stop short as you turn your head to find an empty seat.

“What the…” you look down at his desk to find a note.

Sorry Suji... Needed to slip out for a business meeting as soon as class was over, but here’s my number ~

010 – XXXX - 0606

- Haechan <3

“Wow, writing love letters already?”

“Oh, zip it. You already know he’s a huge flirt. He must’ve slipped out when the bell rang…” you say to the empty classroom as you place your belongings in your bag and make your way out of the room.

“Donghyuck getting past YOUR senses? Oh, someone alert the press…”

“He’s clearly a challenge… I mean, you wouldn’t fly out a foreign operative for kicks and giggles…” you reply matter-of-factly as you put your wireless earphones in, so people don’t think you’re talking to yourself on your walk home.

“Alright, you got me there. I’m waving the white flag of surrender. No need to so sound defensive…”

You roll your eyes for what feels like the 10th time today and hit up the convenience store on your way home. If there’s anything you love about Korea, it’s the super easy meals sold at the CU. You grab a few triangle kimbap and bring them to the counter. You give the cashier a couple bills and bow before taking your leave.

A short walk leads you to the front door to your “home.” You unlock it and scan the room for any signs of tampering. Not that there’s much that can be tampered with. Staying in an apartment used only for short term missions, there isn’t that much to see. One room. A foldable table and chair, a mini fridge and a really crappy couch. Being met with no signs of tampering or potential threats, you put down your bag, store the food in the fridge and sign off on comms.

“Talk to you tomorrow, (Y/N). Stay safe.”

“You too.” You remove your earrings and put it in the special box given to you when you were first given this assignment. You place the bow with the hidden camera right next to it, lense face down.

You plug in your laptop and hit the showers. After your shower, you sit down at the dinner table with your kimbap and look at the note Donghyuck left you.

“Referring to himself as Haechan when we aren’t even well acquainted… what a forward guy…” you scoff as you enter his number into your phone.

To: 010-XXXX-0606

“Hey, it’s Suji. Is this Lee Donghyuck?”

You hit send and take a bite out of your kimbap.

“Not bad…” you utter to yourself when you already feel a vibration.

From: Lee Donghyuck

“No need to government name me… Aren’t we friends? ~”

You scoff. This boy is way too friendly for his own good.

Suji: “We just met today and you’d consider us friends?”

Donghyuck: “That’s how you get closer to people you want to get to know better ~”

Suji: “Aren’t you supposed to be in a business meeting?”

Donghyuck: “We just wrapped everything up… Your timing was quite perfect actually…”

Suji: “When and where do you want to meet?”

Donghyuck: “Aw, do you miss me already? ~”

You needed a moment to pause and let the audacity of this man sink in. You couldn’t help but laugh because in all your years of performing missions, never have you met someone who has come off as strong as Donghuck. Well, you know you’re a beautiful girl. That’s normally why you’re assigned to cases where the target is male. They more often than not fall for your looks, which sooner or later leads to their demise.

Suji: “For the project, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck: “You’re no fun </3 We can meet tomorrow after class. My place, unless you don’t feel comfortable enough?”

Huh, even when he’s flirting, his manners are still intact. You’re reminded of your first meeting with Donghyuck, when he grabbed your hand and tenderly placed his lips to the back of your hand… You didn’t show it, but it made you a bit nervous. This is the first mission you’ve been on where the target is not only in your age group, but he’s totally your style.

“Maybe in a different life, we could’ve been lovers…” you whisper as you draft up your next text.

Suji: “That’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”

Donghyuck: “See you tomorrow ~”

Friday, Sept. 2, 20XX

You walk into class with sunglasses on your head and a mask over your face. If you’re going to Donghyuck’s house today, it’s best to complete the mission as soon as possible. Obviously, you don’t want videos of you entering the premise on file, so you need a low-key kind of disguise. Honestly, you weren’t expecting to have the chance so soon, but the sooner the better.

The classes zoom by and before you know it, you’re in your last class. Your butt just met the chair when you hear a concerned and already rather familiar voice.

“I didn’t have the opportunity to ask, but are you feeling sick today? We can meet at a later date if you aren’t feeling well…” Donghyuck.

“It’s just a precaution. My allergies normally act up around this time.” You brush off his concern as you lower your mask in the classroom. You offer him a smile and he immediately brightens up.

Unlike the other classes, this one doesn’t breeze by so easy. It’s possible that the only reason they went by so quickly was because you had no one to distract you, but this is the only class where you and Donghyuck sit next to each other. It was hard to pay attention to the teacher talk about the importance of bridges when there was a face that you know inspired hymns right next to you.

You put your laptop to sleep. Why? So you can stare at Donghyuck’s reflection on the empty screen. It’s not like you cared about your grades here anyway. You weren’t staying for long, but wow he truly is a stunning individual. His tan skin that was completely free of blemishes, his focused face that still managed to hold a softness despite his well-defined features, his fluffy brown hair that fell into his eyes, but gently caressed the top of his blazer…

It isn’t until Donghyuck looks down to type on his own laptop that you’re snapped back to reality. You quickly jot down some notes on your laptop, so it looks like you were paying attention and not like you spent the last few minutes spacing out to Donghyuck’s face.

Closing your laptop, you decide to whip out your notebook instead. At least you can’t stare at him that way…

The class is beginning to wrap up when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn to Donghyuck and raise your eyebrows curiously.

“I can drive us to my place after class if you aren’t busy.” He offers sweetly.

“Sounds great.” You smile, pulling your mask back up.

You walk out together and head to the senior lot. You know Donghyuck drives a sixth-generation Mercedes-Benz SL, but he doesn’t know you know, so you just follow behind him. You reach his car and he opens the door for you and guides you in.

“What a gentleman.” You muse as you sit in the passenger seat. He smiles and walks to the driver side.

“I’ve been told girls like being the passenger princess.” He chuckles.

“You’ve been told? It’s not first hand experience?” You joke.

“Well, I don’t normally drive girls around haha…” he replies as he starts the engine.

You were about to make another quip when he rests his hand on the back of your headrest. Good thing your mask is still up because the speed in which your jaw snapped shut is equivalent to that of a mouse trap. The reason? You’re currently looking at Donghyuck reverse out of the student lot, one hand on the wheel and his neck turned towards the rear windshield.

Your eyes travel from his face down to the veins on his neck, only to land on his left hand that rests so nicely on the material of the steering wheel. You could imagine a few more places where his hands could rest just as nicely…

You snap your head towards the windshield and close your eyes. You don’t remember acting this horny even as a pre-pubescent teen during your formative years. What the hell is wrong with you??

“The drive isn’t that long, but it isn’t short either, so you can put on some music if you’d like.” He offers.

Donghyuck’s house is far too nice to be located in Seoul. His family lives in the same house they’ve lived in since he was born, which is in Goyang. Roughly a half hour drive from SOPA, nothing crazy.

“Thanks…” you reply softly. Picking up his phone from the console, you type in a song you know he’ll love.

Girl, close your eyes Let the rhythm get into you Don’t try to fight it There ain’t nothing that you can do

“You like Michael Jackson??” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Of course. His songs are nothing short of legendary.” You reply with pride as you queue a few more songs and return his phone to the console.

He laughs in disbelief and starts singing along.

“I wanna rock with you. All night ~”

Your eyes widen at the sound of his voice. You knew he could sing but boy, is he a damn good singer…

You’re learning so much about Haechan that the files can’t teach you… All you had to go off of were a few recent pictures and pages of facts about him. It’s easy remembering the fact that he’s a Junior Black Belt holder or that he has a passion for music, but hearing him sing in real time is something akin to an out of body experience.

Haechan serenades you all the way to his house and all you can say is that calling it a “house” is a grave understatement. He lived in nothing less of a castle. It was clearly passed down from generation to generation as you couldn’t possibly imagine a building of this stature being built in today’s day and age.

He pulls up to the front door of his not-so-humble abode and parks. Exiting the vehicle, he walks over to your side and opens your door once more. This time, extending his hand towards you so he can help you out.

“Wow, this dude must’ve had some serious etiquette classes drilled into his brain. I cannot imagine a normal guy doing all this jazz for you…”

You can’t help but mentally agree. Unfortunately, the men of today are so incredibly uncultured, it’s past the point of humor.

“Welcome home, Young Master Donghyuck.” You hear an aged voice say as soon as the door swings open.

“Good afternoon, Hajoon.” He replies with a soft smile on his face.

“Welcome to the Lee residence, Miss Suji.” Hajoon turns to you and does a 90 degree bow.

“Thank you for having me.” You reply, returning his bow.

“Cameras are down.”

You smile weakly as you walk through the front door of the Lee residence. You adjust the sunglasses on your head and lower your mask while slipping off your outside shoes and replacing them with the guest slippers provided by Hajoon.

“Young Master Donghyuck, Miss Suji, would you care for a freshly squeezed beverage?”

Before you can even open your mouth, Haechan speaks for the both of you.

“That would be lovely, Hajoon.”

Hajoon bows and turns to a doorway that you assume leads to the kitchen.

Haechan begins walking to the foot of a spiral staircase, probably leading you to a room where you can work. He turns to you with a smile.

“You MUST try Hajoon’s fresh lemonade. It’s the best you’ll ever have.” He winks at you as he proceeds walking up the staircase.

You stand there at the bottom, doe eyed.

“…i-if you say so…” you stutter.

“Did you just stutter?? (Y/N), you do remember that this dude flirts with anyone and everyone, right?”

You give the side eye to no one in particular, but you know who it’s for. Of course you knew that, but you were just a girl after all. No matter how well trained you were, is it so crazy to believe that a little attention from a hot guy could have this effect on you?

“Do NOT let your personal feelings get in the way of the mission.”

Good thing Haechan is a good few steps in front of you, so you reply a bit snappily.

“Please, I’m not 5. I’m perfectly capable of following instructions.” You mumble under your breath. Although, you weren’t really as determined to end his bloodline as you were in helping him further it…

You reach the top of the staircase and follow Haechan down the hall to a room with double doors. He pushes them open, and you’re met with a very large and beautifully decorated room. Bookshelves lining the walls, paintings adorning the walls without, a wooden table in the center of the room with one larger-than-average couch and a tray of snacks in the center.

Haechan spins around with his arms wide open in a “ta-da” like manner. You raise your eyebrows and nod in amazement. You almost forgot that his parents are incredibly well off and have the funds to buy 50 more houses like the one you’re currently standing in.

“Hajoon will bring the drinks up when he’s done.” He states as we walks over to the couch, urging you to sit first.

You smile at him and take a seat. You on the right-hand side and Haechan on the left-hand side. He immediately reaches for a cracker on the tray and offers it to you. How nice. You move to grab it and he quickly yanks it out of your grasp. You furrow your eyebrows and try again only for it to be moved just out of your reach.

You squint your eyes at Haechan, and he chuckles. He’s holding the cracker in his left hand, dangling his arm over the couch, taunting you. With every inch towards Haechan, his back reclines further and further into the couch until his head lies on the armrest. You put your left hand on the back of the couch for leverage and stretch out your arm once again in an attempt to grab the snack.

He giggles and it all happens so fast. Your left arm slips, he drops the cracker and you face-plant right into his chest.

“Shit, is your physical trainer a brick wall??” you ask as you prop yourself up with your left hand once again. Your right hand flies to your nose and rubs it for some sort of relief.

Your eyes are still squeezed shut in pain as your right hand hovers over your nose. Haechan is silent even after you pose your question. You open your eyes and you see that you’re only a few inches from his face.

You freeze in place, right hand still over your nose as you lock eyes with the man you were tasked to kill.

His eyes bore into yours and they sparkle as they do.

“Hi gorgeous.” He whispers as he smiles at you.

You grab a pillow from beside you and smoosh it over his face and no, it has nothing to do with your heart racing a mile a minute. Death by asphyxiation. You can work with that.

Well, you could’ve worked with it until there was a knock at the door. Even though it was slightly ajar, you assume it’s protocol to knock before entering.

You roll your eyes and remove the pillow from Haechan’s face, allowing him to sit up and fix his appearance. Although, he misses his hair because it still looks an absolute mess. But you have to admit, he looks quite cute with his hair all ruffled… Hajoon enters shortly after his knock on the door and he sets the lemonade down onto the table. He bows and takes his leave, shutting the door as he does.

All of a sudden, you hear static. That’s not good. There must be some kind of frequency blocker in the door and now there’s no way for you to communicate. That’s fine. You don’t need him to complete your mission.

You finally remove your right hand from your face only to see blood covering your palm. Your eyes widen, but Haechan is the first to speak.

“Oh dear…” He hurriedly grabs a napkin from the snack tray and hands it to you. You grab the napkin from Haechan, and you retrieve a hand mirror from your bag. Assessing the damage, you carefully wet the napkin with the condensation from the pitcher of lemonade and gently wipe at your face. It’s really quiet, which is unusually for Haechan, so you look up only to see him already staring at you.

“All that blood looks good on you… It really brings out your eyes!” he awkwardly compliments you.

He has fear in his eyes and yet you burst out laughing.

You’re too busy laughing to respond. It isn’t until you’ve got all the giggles, laughs and chuckles out of the way when you speak up.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you were so funny…” you trail off as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye.

His chuckles are unsure, but his nerves give you confidence. So, you put a hand on his thigh, and his breath hitches.

“A compliment is hardly the first thing that comes out of the mouths of people who’ve made me bleed…” you say cryptically with a sly smile on your face.

He blinks at you with wide eyes,

“What? Has no one ever flirted back with you?” you ask, turning your body so you’re facing him. You inch closer and closer and he inches further and further until his head lays on the arm rest once again.

“Or are you frightened about what happens to people who’ve made me bleed?” you smugly inquire as you place your knees on either side of Haechan’s pelvis, his legs straightening onto the couch cushions in response.

You rest your right hand on Haechan’s cheek and it’s hot to the touch.

“What’s the matter, Haechan?” you pout and rub his cheek with your thumb.

“In all the times we’ve talked, you’ve never been this quiet. Tell me… what’s on your mind?” you say as you continue to caress his cheek.

He stares up at you, in an almost awestruck manner.

“You called me Haechan…” he whispers.

You break out laughing for the second time in the last 10 minutes because truly Lee Donghyuck must be one of the funniest creatures on Earth.

“Oh Haechan… regardless of the ambiguous nature of this conversation, you’re surprised that I called you ‘Haechan’? You are such an interesting creature…” you decide as you retract your hand from his cheek and put your full weight on Haechan’s hips.

You reach over to the table so you can grab a cracker, since you were robbed of it earlier. You hear him inhale and release a shaky exhale. You return your eyes to him and see that his eyebrows are knitted, and his eyes are closed.

“You are so incredibly pretty, Haechan. As anyone ever told you that?” you question, and he whimpers in response.

“You talk a big game for someone who folds so easily…” you note as you fiddled with your shoe.

“No one’s ever taken charge before…” he breathes out.

You quickly release the dagger stored in the sole of your shoe and swiftly press the cool metal to the flesh on Haechan’s neck.

His eyes flutter open and never has a man looked more attractive in your eyes.

“Even in the face of danger, you are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on.” You say in amazement as you slowly return to sitting on Haechan’s pelvis, keeping the blade close to his throat.

“Oh my god…” he groans, bucking his hips into yours.

You tilt your head to the side. You can’t tell if it’s the thrill of having his life in the hands of others or if it’s the praise that gets him, but you’re determined to find out.

“Is that what you like to hear? You like hearing about how pretty you are?” you ask and he hurriedly nods his head, eyes still closed.

“Let me see those beautiful eyes, baby. Talk to me.” you purr, moving his bangs to the side and he slowly opens his eyes. They’re a bit glossy but they sparkle like they house the stars of a thousand galaxies. You can’t help but hold eye contact with the boy. It’s almost as if you’re stuck in a trance, until his voice breaks you out of it.

“Please…” he whispers, giving you the most sincere pair of puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Please?” you ask, encouraging Haechan to use his words.

“Please do something. Anything.” He pouts and he begs and you can’t help but mentally decide you would give Haechan absolutely everything he ever wanted. Although, it shouldn’t be too much given he probably already has everything he wants.

“My sweet boy…” you start, diligently removing the dagger from his throat and placing it on the table. You place your hand on his chest, right where his heart his, and you can feel it going a mile a minute. You smile, tracing shapes over the fabric of his sweater vest with your fingernail.

“It’s yours.” You finish and close the distance, placing a sweet kiss to Haechan’s pouty lips. He reacts immediately and his hands fly up to hold your cheeks and deepen the kiss. You flatten your hand on his chest and run your other through his soft locks. You lightly grasp at the roots and he moans into the kiss. You gently bite his bottom lip and he opens up immediately. It’s like playing a game. Everything you do has Haechan reacting like no tomorrow.

You pull apart to catch your breath and you see a string of saliva stretch between you and Haechan. He gazes up at you with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that…” you whine as you push him away and cover his eyes.

“Someone seems a little shy.” He teases with a smirk.

Honestly, as a girl who was raised and trained to be an assassin, you don’t have much sexual experience. Which isn’t crazy to acknowledge because you’re a killer. You bring pain, not pleasure; but there’s something about Haechan that makes you feel emotions you’ve never experienced. All you know is that you wanna take care of him. You take a deep breath to steady your racing heart.

You stay like this for a few breaths until you lift your hands to peek at Haechan and find that he’s already looking back at you with those big, beautiful doe eyes. He smiles up at you and gently holds your wrists.

“Sweetheart, what do you wanna do? If you want to take charge, I’ll follow your lead, but if you don’t know what to do, I’ll happily take the reigns.” He offers supportively as he turns his head and kisses your palm.

“I… I want to have control, I just don’t know… how...” You cast your eyes down, deep in thought.

“But I want to try.” You say, determined. Haechan smiles at you, with… pride? You don’t analyze it too much. You remove your hands from his eyes and lower them so that you hold his face in your hands. You come face-to-face with your target and state your mission.

“Lee Haechan, I’m going to take care of you….” You bring his face mere centimeters from yours and place a quick kiss on his lips, “…my way.”

Your hands slide down from his cheeks, over his neck and land on his chest. You open up his blazer and stare at his sweater vest.

“First, we need to get rid of this…” you note. In the blink of an eye, you retrieve your dagger and with one swift move, Haechan’s sweater vest is torn right down the middle. His eyes widen, looking between you and his ripped sweater vest. His cheeks start to warm. You look down and note that his white button up doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Perfect.” You smile to yourself as you open his shredded vest the same way you did his blazer. Compared to the aggressive way you tore his vest to shreds; you slowly unbutton his shirt all the way down to the last button that stops right below his navel. You hear Haechan’s breathing start to get a little heavier. You smirk as you place your hands on his abs. He gasps at the contrast your cold hands offer to his warm abdomen.

Putting your hands on either side of his waist, you lean forward. You start with his cheeks. You kiss the beauty mark right above the corner of his mouth, moving to the mark near the junction between his jawline and his neck and you couldn’t miss the mole right over his Adam’s Apple. With every kiss you leave, Haechan hums in response.

You travel down from his neck to his chest. You slide your hands up his chest and your fingers rolls over his nipples, drawing a high-pitched moan from him. You pinch them and roll them between your fingers, each action pulling a delicious sound from Haechan. He mewls, and moans, and gasps, and every noise is like music to your ears. When you’re done, you leave a delicate kiss to each nipple, which has Haechan’s back arching.

Once again, you use your fingernails and slowly rake them down his abdomen, causing a shudder to rise up Haechan’s spine.

Tapping your nails against the metal of his belt buckle, you look up towards Haechan and like every other time, he’s already looking at you. His eyes are so glassy that you think a tear might fall if he were to blink.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll put you out of your misery now.” You promise, already working on taking his belt off. As you work to remove his belt and unbutton his pants, he’s already raising his hips. You smile as you slide his pants down his legs and toss them to the side, leaving him in his boxers. Well, his boxers and the top half of his school uniform.

There’s a wet patch on his boxers and it doesn’t take a genius to understand why. You rub your pointer finger over the patch and Haechan groans in response. He looks down at you with a pout on his face.

“Sorry, sorry.” You apologize, lowering his boxers to his thighs. Freeing his erection, you’re met with the sound of it slapping against his stomach and Haechan gasps.

“It’s so unfair that every part of you is so pretty…” you say, gathering the pre-cum from his tip and rubbing it down his shaft.

“Oh my god…” he whispers. With every movement that your wrist makes, he becomes more and more vocal. But it’s not enough. Gathering a small pool of saliva in your mouth, you let it drip out of your mouth and onto his cock. He hisses at the contact, gripping the head of the couch with his hand. You place a tender kiss to the tip of his angry cock, drawing out noises Haechan didn’t even know he was capable of producing.

Since you’ve successfully managed to lubricate him, you get to work. You rub your thumb over the tip and start pumping your hand up and down. His moans truly sounded like heaven on Earth.

“Oh, just like that… please please please…” he pleads. You smile because clearly you’re doing something right. You move a bit faster, making sure you give the occasional squeeze to the base of his cock. Haechan starts writhing.

“I thought you said… I thought… you didn’t know…” he starts losing the ability to speak in full sentences.

“I don’t.” you say, understanding what he wanted to say, “but I appreciate the ego boost.” You quip, beginning to massage his balls with your other hand.

“Ohhhhh yessss…” he drawls. Keeping a consistent pace, you see that his stomach starts to contract, and his breathing gets quicker.

“I’m gonna cum!” he shouts just in time for the ropes of cum to shoot onto his stomach. Your hand stills, unsure of what to do or where to put it so you just continue holding him until he stops cumming. Haechan’s breathing is still heavy but it starts to slow as he comes down. He raises his head and looks at you with hooded eyes.

“You… are a liar…” he huffs out and drops his head again. You start giggling because, who doesn’t like to get praised? You stare at the milky substance on Haechan’s stomach and curiosity gets the best of you. You bring his softening cock to your lips and lick at his tip, collecting any leftover cum with your tongue.

“AH!” he exclaims as his hips buck up towards your face. His head shoots up from the couch and he finds you with a thoughtful expression on your face.

“Sweet… but a little salty…” you note, smiling at him. He lets out a scoff of disbelief as he puts his weight onto his elbows. You let go of him and reach for the napkins on the table to clean him up. He watches you work diligently to wipe the cum off of his stomach. When you’ve got most of it off, you grab another napkin and gather the condensation from the lemonade pitcher, similar to what you did when you were cleaning your bloody nose. You’re almost done when Haechan raises his hand and pats your head. You pause and look up at him with wide eyes, which prompts him to speak.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly as he starts gently caressing your hair.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that?” you laugh and finish up by putting the used napkins in the little trash bin by the couch. He playfully rolls his eyes.

“I’d be a bit better if someone didn’t mangle my sweater.” He smirks as an expression of guilt crosses your features. You awkwardly chuckle, looking down at his abdomen to see his mangled sweater hanging open. He ruffles your hair, causing you to close your eyes.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.” He jokes, removing his hand from your hair. Haechan shrugs off his blazer and sweater vest, leaving him in his unbuttoned, white button up. You sit up, wanting to give him space.

He drapes his outerwear over the back of the couch and faces you. There’s a look in his eyes, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Haechan puts his hands out in front of him, flipping them so that his palms face upwards. You look down at his hands and then up to his face. He smiles, he briefly glances down at his hands and returns his gaze to you. Getting the message, you rest your hands in his. He closes his hands in response and gently caresses your hand.

It’s nice, but then in the blink of an eye, he has you on your back and your hands pinned above your head. You stare up at him, surprised by this turn of events. He smirks and comes close to your ear, his hair tickling your nose.

“Now… it’s my turn to take care of you ~”

[moonlightdreamzz]

late nights — bang chan, hyunjin, wooyoung, and niki. ♡

it feels so good to be seen and loved, especially after an exhausting day.

bang chan

truthfully, you don’t even know how you made it here in one piece—here, being chris’ studio. utterly exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it, but the day is finally over, and you’re holding onto that small grace. not like you have much of a choice, right?

your eyes flutter shut for just a second as you lean against the door, the light thud startling you back to the moment. you laugh quietly at yourself, embarrassed by how ready your body was to believe this was the end of the day, before finally pushing the door open.

you and chris share the same curse: you work too hard, and far too much. so, it doesn’t surprise you to see him exactly as you left him this morning—headphones on, hunched over his computer, eyes flickering across the screen. even from the doorway, you can hear the bass pumping loud enough to feel it in your chest.

you weren’t planning on saying anything. the couch beside his desk had your name written all over it, and all you wanted was to curl up and let sleep take over until he was ready to leave. but somehow, you find enough strength to call out to him.

“baby.”

it’s almost immediate, the way his head snaps toward you, his eyes softening as soon as they land on yours. it’s like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. his headphones are off in seconds, tossed carelessly onto the desk. that alone tells you everything—he must think you look even worse than you feel.

he doesn’t say anything, just opens his arms wide, inviting you in. and how could you ever say no to him? you drag your feet across the room, collapsing into his lap without a second thought. his arms wrap around you tightly, and for the first time all day, you feel like you can finally exhale.

“you had a long day, didn’t you?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear before pressing a soft kiss there.

all you can do is nod, burying yourself deeper into his neck. he smells just like he did this morning, warm and familiar, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. neither of you moves for what feels like forever, but it’s the kind of forever you could get used to. his touch says everything words can’t—how much he missed you, how much he hates seeing you this tired, how much he loves you.

you want to tell him you should go home, that you need a proper bed, but you can’t. you know how important his work is, and you’d never forgive yourself for making him feel guilty about staying.

but then his voice breaks the silence, low and soft. “i think i’m done for the night.”

your head snaps up, searching his face for any sign he’s joking. “no, baby. i’m fine. keep working,” you say quickly, even as your body betrays you and leans back into his chest. the guilt creeps up before you can stop it.

his thumb brushes your cheek, and his eyes lock on yours with so much tenderness it nearly knocks the wind out of you. “the only thing i want to do is go home, run you a bath, and hold you while you fall asleep. this can wait until tomorrow. you’re the most important thing to me, and i need you to know that.”

he kisses you softly, and when he pulls back, there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “besides,” he adds with a wink, “if i don’t take care of you, who’s going to remind me to take care of myself?”

hyunjin

you and your man were both terribly sleepy babies. no matter how hard you tried to stay awake for each other on late nights, one of you always gave in first. it was a routine by now: a simple “i love you” text signaling surrender to the pull of a memory foam mattress or an irresistibly soft couch. there was never any guilt, just understanding.

but this month? this month has been unrelenting. you’ve been in full girl boss mode, pushing through deadlines and back-to-back meetings, while hyunjin has been caught up in the chaos of a comeback. you can’t even remember the last time you sat down together for dinner, watched a show, or just existed in the same moment. you miss it. you miss him.

when his schedule was calmer, hyunjin stayed with you as much as he could. but now, the dorm has him locked down. as you punch in your door code, you sigh, already feeling the emptiness of your apartment. you wish he were here—even if it meant finding him passed out on the couch, mouth slightly open, barely coherent as you whispered him awake and tugged him to bed

tonight, though, there’s no detour. no lingering in the kitchen or collapsing on the couch. you head straight to your room, already peeling off your jacket as you close the door behind you. exhaustion weighs heavy on you, but something feels… off.

your heart stutters. someone’s here.

you freeze. open your eyes, idiot, you scold yourself. slowly, you do, and your breath catches in your throat

there, glowing like a dream, stands hyunjin. a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, his smile stretching so wide his eyes crinkle shut. he’s radiant, like he stepped out of your imagination, but he’s real.

“baby,” you whisper, your voice trembling with disbelief. “what… how are you here? i thought—”

you don’t get the words out, too stunned to string them together. he steps closer, slow and steady, placing the roses and wine into your hands before cupping your face and kissing you, soft and sure. his lips feel like coming home

“i missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm against your ear. “it’s been hell not being able to see you, touch you, hold you. i’ve been trying so hard to wait, but when i called you this morning and heard how tired you sounded… i had to be here. i couldn’t let you come home to an empty apartment tonight.

you melt into his arms, burying your face in his chest as his words sink in. “i knew it,” you say suddenly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, a teasing smirk spreading across your face. “you really can’t stay away from me. i’m irresistible, huh?”

he bursts out laughing, the sound warm and rich, making his whole body shake as he leans his forehead against yours. “shut up,” he grins, but his eyes are so full of love you can feel it in your bones.

The he cups your face again, pressing his lips back to yours in a kiss that feels like a promise. this one is different—hungrier, deeper, filled with everything he’s been holding back. his right hand gently takes the flowers and wine from you, tossing them onto the couch as if they’re the least important thing in the world.

“you’ve been stressed too, baby,” you murmur between kisses, your hands sliding up his chest as he pulls you closer. “you want me to make it better? take your mind off everything?”

“please,” he breathes, the single word trembling with desperation.

and that’s all it takes for the two of you to let go of everything else—the stress, the distance, the long days apart. tonight, it’s just you and him.

wooyoung

i know that the last conversation we had didn’t end on a good note. and i know you’re still trying to process everything going on with us and probably don’t want to see me. but I can’t help but feel like you’re exhausted and need something to take your mind off of everything you have going on right now. regardless of what we’re going through rn, i love you and I’ll always be here to make things better.

your heart aches as you read wooyoung’s text.

i’m outside. take your time. i’ll wait for you.

you didn’t think you’d hear from him tonight—not after the way your last conversation had ended. but that’s wooyoung, always showing up when you need him most, even when things between you feel fragile and uncertain.

you grab your jacket and step outside, the chill in the air catching you off guard. but then you see him, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, his hair a little messy, his expression soft despite the exhaustion etched into it.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world stills.

without a word, he opens the car door for you. as you slide into the passenger seat, you feel the familiar warmth of his presence settle over you like a blanket. he gets in, shutting the door gently, and the two of you sit there, bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights.

“you didn’t have to come,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

he turns to you, his gaze steady, his hand already reaching for yours. “yes, i did.” his tone is quiet but firm, like he needs you to believe it

his thumb rubs gentle circles against your skin, and it’s enough to unravel the tight knot in your chest.

“i know it’s been rough lately,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “but no matter what we’re going through, i can’t stand the thought of you sitting at home feeling this way. you don’t have to go through this alone. i’m here. always.”

you close your eyes, his words sinking into the deepest parts of you.

he leans over, pulling you into his arms, and it’s like you’re a piece of a puzzle snapping into place. his embrace is so warm, so full of everything he can’t quite say, and you don’t realize how much you needed it until you’re here, breathing him in.

“you’re freezing,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “i should’ve brought a blanket.”

you let out a soft laugh, your breath brushing against his collarbone. “you’re the blanket.”

he smiles against your hair, holding you a little tighter. “good. then i’m not letting go.”

for a long time, you just sit there, his arms wrapped around you, his hand gently tracing soothing patterns along your back. it’s so quiet, but the silence is full of him—his love, his care, his determination to make sure you feel safe, even when things between you aren’t perfect.

“thank you for coming,” you whisper after a while, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i’ll always come,” he replies, his lips brushing against your forehead. “no matter what’s happening. you’re my person.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, it feels like everything might actually be okay. whatever else you have to figure out, whatever else you have to say, you can face it together.

for now, this is enough. this is everything.

niki

the studio was quiet now, the kind of quiet that made you feel how tired you really were. your body ached, your mind felt heavy, and the only thing keeping you upright was the cool press of the mirror at your back.

you closed your eyes, just for a second, and let out a sigh.

“you always look like you’re about to fall apart after practice,” a familiar voice teased, pulling you out of your thoughts.

your eyes snapped open, and when you saw him standing there in the doorway, you actually laughed out loud.

“niki?” you said, your voice pitching higher in disbelief. “what the—how did you even get in here?”

he grinned, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place, hands stuffed casually into his hoodie pockets. “i have my ways.”

“your ways?” you repeated, still laughing, though your exhaustion made it sound a little delirious. “what, did you sneak past security?”

he shrugged, his grin widening. “you’d be surprised what a little charm can do.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

niki stepped into the room then, pulling a takeout bag from behind his back like it was some big reveal. “anyway, i figured you might be hungry. you were going on and on about this the other day, so…”

you blinked at him, your chest tightening. “you remembered that?”

niki rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a blush creeping up his neck. “obviously. i’m not as clueless as you think.”

he walked over and sat down beside you, his legs stretching out across the floor. the bag landed in your lap, and the smell alone was enough to make your stomach growl.

“you didn’t have to,” you murmured, though you were already pulling the container out.

“yeah, well,” he said, leaning back against the mirror with a shrug, “i wanted to.”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you forgot how exhausted you were. his face was calm, but his eyes were soft, like he was seeing you in a way no one else ever had.

“thanks, niki,” you said quietly.

he waved it off like it was nothing, but the tips of his ears were pink, and you knew him well enough to know what that meant.

“you worked hard today,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “but you always do.”

you smiled, but it felt bittersweet. “sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.”

niki’s gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it is,” he said firmly. “you are.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you didn’t know what to say. so you didn’t. you just opened the container, took a bite, and let the warmth of the food—and his presence—melt away the edges of your day.

he didn’t say anything else, just stayed there beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed when one of you moved.

and maybe you were both too scared to say it out loud, too scared to ruin whatever this was, but in that moment, you knew: he was your safe place. and maybe, just maybe, you were his too.

[marsmaximoff]

🏛️ emperor caracalla ; headcanons ⋆₊𐕣˚𖤐 ݁｡☽

content warning: fem!reader. mentions of blood, killing and sickness, cheating, possessiveness, toxicity. idk if there’s anything else.

word count: 0.7k

author’s note: first time writing headcanons, so constructive criticism is welcomed. and english is my third language so please bear with me. i apologize for any mistake 🙏🏻 also, i’m unlocking a new obsession, so i needed to write for caracalla asap. i’m gonna write for other fred characters too because that man has me down bad. that’s it! enjoyyy! <3

emperor caracalla is a menace with an insane duality and you know that better than anyone

we have 1) mad ruler with an insatiable thirst for blood

you ALWAYS go to the games

he demands wants you there with him

(not like you have much choice being married to him)

but still, he loves to know you’re there. mostly because he actually enjoys sharing his passion and spending time with you. buuut, also because he REALLY likes to show you off. (you love seeing him all giggly clapping and yelling tho)

and let me tell you, he takes every opportunity to do so. to remind everyone that you’re his. and to brag in front of his pretty much unmarried brother.

i’m talking hand rubbing your thigh when sitting by his side (he does it absentmindedly, it’s genuinely cute), arm around your waist during feasts, sitting on his lap when watching combats, theatre or any sort of entertainment and a ton of PDA.

both of them are possessive, but he is more subtle, not as straightforward

regarding Geta, you two have an… odd relationship. he’s thankful there’s someone else to deal with his brother’s madness. but he’s suspicious of your intentions. tho jealous.

some would even say not only of the marriage itself…

caracalla knows, and absolutely feeds on it. he finally has something that belongs to him and only him

god forbid someone doesn’t get it

Dondus has grown to adore you. you’re like his other parent -he’s adopted you as such.

squeaks at you and happily climbs your arm to rest on your shoulder

loves using your braids as little ladders

and snuggling against your neck too

he’s just so cute can u tell i love him :3

anyways

and 2) sappy child

he follows you around like a puppy

you hate it when he gets overwhelmed, he tends to hide and isolate himself

you end up acting like his mother

gets insecure of his real face and keeps it from you

needs a lot of reassurance

the guards always look for you when he has an outburst

your touch and presence are the only things that ground him

LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling

clings to you like he needs you to breathe

good luck waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom 💀

play with his hair and he’s GONE

big on pet names

to you is always “my love” “my dear” “my darling” “my wife” “my empress”

emphasis on the “my”

everything’s fine with him but “sweet boy” makes him melt

and obviously “my emperor” cause it makes him feel powerful

and compliments too

spoils and pampers the shit out of you

jewels, clothes, animals, entertainers, you name it

absolutely whipped

loves kissing

now, it can’t all be a fairytale 😞

sometimes you feel like he loves Dondus more than you

and it seems that some men being forced to kill each other brings him more happiness than you ever could

he can switch from sad to angry in a matter of seconds and sometimes his sudden change of tone and expressions startles you

🚩 🚩🚩

being married to a sick man is hard

many palace servants and guards feel bad for you

paranoid

thinks you don’t love him anymore and are going to leave him quite often

obsessive

if you say something that feels ‘off’ to him get ready for an intense interrogation

possessive and extremely jealous

cause why the fuck where you laughing with some random man?

he’d threaten to kill him and would probably get rough with you

hates other people touching you

gets violent

has hurt you before during one of his fits

regrets it afterwards but has a hard time apologizing

would probably be unfaithful. i know, i hate it too 🥲

over all i think he wouldn’t be that bad of a husband, like it could be way worse

and i say he could genuinely love you, it just wouldn’t be the healthiest of loves

but you can try to fix him girl ✨✨

[silentheiss]

It takes a long time for Shen Qingqiu to fall asleep, and once he does, he wishes he didn’t.

He knows he’s dreaming right away, just as he knows that Luo Binghe’s not there to soften his dream. He’s likely still awake, working through reports he’s been sent earlier today. Usually, Shen Qingqiu would stay with him, but tonight he couldn’t- he just couldn’t. Sleep seemed like a safer choice. He was wrong.

In his dream, he sits in front of the mirror, staring at himself with confusion. At least that’s what he feels. His reflection, in turn, looks at him with such a cold disgust, that Shen Qingqiu knows instantly who he’s dreaming of.

“Congratulations,” Shen Jiu says, thin lips twitching into a haughty smile. “You managed to hurt him even worse than I did.”

“Fuck you.” Shen Qingqiu says. He knows in what detection this is going. He doesn’t like it one bit.

“I called him a dog, but you treat him like one.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh?” Shen Jiu leans closer. “Well, I suppose you’re right. At least dogs are under their owners protection. But he’s the one who protects you, now. You just let him follow you, serve you, tend to you, and what do you give him in return?”

“I- show him. In my own way.”

“Ah. Tell him he’s doing good, every once in a while? Pat his head for a second or two, before stepping away? Begrudgingly agree to physical intimacy after he’s begged enough? The last one is my favorite. Inventively humiliating. Tell me, are you ashamed of him?”

Shen Qingqiu swallows, feeling his eyes grow hot. He doesn’t know what to say, and yet he opens his mouth to argue.

“I care about him.”

Shen Jiu laughs.

“How romantic. How generous. Every devoted husband dreams of hearing he’s merely cared for by their spouse.”

“It’s not just that. I- Of course, I-”

“Can’t even say it to yourself, can you?”

“Binghe knows.” Shen Qingqiu whispers.

“Does he? Or does he think you married him because you’re afraid of what he might’ve done if you didn’t? Or, better yet, does he think you did it out of pity? And yet he’s grateful that you took him in, happy to get any scrap of your attention.”

“That’s not true.” Shen Qingqiu insists.

“Even I couldn’t destroy his self esteem as thoroughly. Great job, Shen Yuan. You rendered a mighty protagonist into a pathetic mutt who knows he’s unloved, but doesn’t have enough self respect to leave.”

“Binghe’s not like that. He’s not. He’s-”

“It’s not his fault.” Shen Jiu shrugs. “You raised him. You made him love you enough that it doesn’t matter if he’s loved in return. Exemplary husband, you are. Truly.”

Shen Qingqiu breaks the mirror.

He wakes up with a start.

“Shizun?” Luo Binghe calls from the other room. Shen Qingqiu hears a shuffle of papers and then soft steps, nearing their bedroom. “Shizun?”

He wants to answer, but he can’t- he can’t breathe.

Luo Binghe comes rushing to the bed, immediately gathering Shen Qingqiu into his arms, holding him close, whispering soft words into his hair.

Shen Qingqiu breaks.

“Binghe.” He gasps through sobs. “Binghe, I’m sorry.”

“Husband has nothing to apologize for.” Luo Binghe says, voice sure and steady.

“No.” Shen Qingqiu cries. “No, no, no. Binghe, this husband failed you.”

“Shizun, don’t say such nonsense.”

Shen Qingqiu raises his head. He has to look his husband in the eye when he says that.

“Binghe, I love you.” He fights to keep his voice steady. “This one loves you so, so much. So much, Binghe. You have to know. I’m sorry I never said. I will do better, I- you have to know.”

Luo Binghe frowns at him, wipes his teary cheeks with shaky hand.

“This one knows.” He says, sounding confused and maybe a little hurt. “Why would Shizun think otherwise?”

“Because I never told you? I rarely kiss you first, I never- I failed as a husband. Binghe’s been perfect, taking care of me, talking about his love for this one for the world to hear, and I failed him. I let him think that he’s not loved, but he is. He is.”

“Shizun.” Luo Binghe leans closer, looking at Shen Qingqiu as if he’s searching for some kind of an answer and if only Shen Qingqiu knew what the question was, he’d give it right away. He’d give him anything. “Husband. I know that you love me. This one knows.”

Shen Qingqiu shudders.

“Binghe does?”

“Of course.”

“But,” Shen Qingqiu whispers. “I never told you?”

“Shizun didn’t have to. This one made it his life mission to study every Shizun’s expression, every movement, every change in the tone of his beautiful voice. He knows his husband, maybe even better than his husband knows himself.”

“Still, I should have-”

“No.” Luo Binghe says. “Husband is doing enough. This one feels very loved, every minute of every day.”

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu whines.

“This Binghe is going to have a talk with disciples who planted such silly thoughts in my Shizun’s head.”

“Don’t. They were right, anyway. I should be telling Binghe I love him all the time.”

“You do, husband.” Luo Binghe smiles, soft and sweet. “When you read for me, when you brush my hair extra long, when you get me little presents for no reason at all, when you rant about your silly books. This one is very lucky. He is loved. He knows this.”

Shen Qingqiu crashes against his husband’s chest, feeling almost lightheaded with relief.

“Thank you.” He murmurs. “Thank you, for knowing me so well.”

“It’s this one’s honor to know Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu holds onto Luo Binghe tighter and doesn’t let go for the rest of the night.

It’s a calm evening. The weather is pleasant, if maybe a touch too warm, but Shen Qingqiu knows that as soon as the sun comes down fully it’ll get better. Luo Binghe and he are walking down the familiar path, taking their customary stroll before they start getting ready to bed. It’s quiet like that on Qing Jing Peak, their routine for when they stay on the mountain. Shen Qingqiu loves it.

As they walk past training ground, disciples’ voices reach them.

“—and once I’m done, Shizun will say I’m his favorite.” One of the younger ones is saying.

Luo Binghe snorts. Shen Qingqiu slows down and shushes him.

“You know he loves that Binghe man the most, A-Tao.”

Shen Qingqiu clears his throat, fighting the blush.

“Does he? He never said so, he just says he’s his favorite. I can be favorite!”

“He never said it in front of you! He’s probably saying it a-all the time when they’re home.”

Shen Qingqiu freezes completely, suddenly feeling uneasy and tense. He feels Luo Binghe go still, too.

“It’s all good, Shizun.” Luo Binghe says a moment later, placating as he always does. “This Binghe is getting tired. Let’s go home?”

They do. They go through their nightly routine, and the evening is still nice and calm, and Shen Qingqiu isn’t nervous, isn’t anxious, isn’t awkward. He’s all good.

He’s never said “I love you” to his husband, but it’s okay. Binghe knows.

He does, right?

[autumngracy]

Truly going insane watching my dad destroy expensive phones and laptops faster than I can fucking reorder them for him.

Doesn't matter how much help and advice I give him; my mans is just the clumsiest and stupidest motherfucker alive when it comes to electronics. Killed two phones the exact same way and two laptops the exact same way.

(Fucking up the phone charging ports by jamming the plug in unaligned. Spilling water on the laptops and then IMMEDIATELY trying to restart them. I mean. You'd think if you destroyed a multi hundred dollar device because of a certain really dumb and avoidable mistake you would, idk, remember to not make that mistake again ... fuck me).

Straight up lost a brand new cell phone replacement before even opening the box, and his memory is such shit I can't even tell if he even received it in the first place.

Meanwhile it takes me at least 4-5 years before needing to replace something, and usually it's because of shit like defective lithium ion batteries ...

"We're tight on money so I have to jack your rent up 3x," says man who goes through $500+ of tech every year because he has the memory, common sense, and manual dexterity of a garden slug.

It's not like phones and laptops are the only shit he goes through like this, either; we got lawnmowers, exercise equipment—appliances, you name it, he breaks it. Drives me fucking bananas.

[dykedvonte]

Ulysses obsession with the Courier is a special type of sad to me cause the Courier’s part was so important but so unwitting. They had no idea what was in the package they delivered and neither did he. Neither had an idea of what it could’ve done and the Courier was only caring out their job (mind you the Courier could be killed via notes in the express contract if they don’t). To them it was just another regular delivery to the divide and one that they likely thought would help, just like all the ones before.

It’s so tragic for Ulysses to hold so much ire to the Courier when it really was the case of it could’ve been anyone. Anyone could have delivered that package but they did and so he focused the blame on them and it destroys what he is trying to instill in the courier on a fundamental level.

[twinstxrs]

the gorgug-porter conversation is interesting to me because like. yea for the overwhelming majority of the conversation porter’s being shitty & trying to fit gorgug into a box that gorgug just does not fit into by trying to make gorgug’s relationship with his rage more focused on the aggression aspect of it. but then there’s also this specific thing that brennan brought up again in the ap, which is that gorgug’s relationship with his rage is wholly “this is a tool i use to protect my friends.” which isn’t a bad thing! but that’s his Whole relationship with it, & gorgug seems to place next to no value on his rage in relationship to himself. which is problematic, because it’s first & foremost his rage.

being raised in a household with a sort of toxic positivity largely meant that, whether or not it was his parents’ intention, gorgug internalized the message that more traditionally “negative” emotions such as anger are the wrong response to something. part of the reason he prioritizes his artificing is probably because it’s “fixing” things. in comparison to being a barbarian, which gorgug associates with “breaking” things. good vs. bad behavior, in his eyes.

it’s a totally unacceptable bar to measure a 16 y/o by, but i do think part of porter’s reasoning for not letting gorgug multiclass is him recognizing that gorgug generally does not value anger as a valid emotional response to something, at the very least for himself. & that directly conflicts with what being a barbarian is, because whether you like it or not, that rage is what fuels you. but again, barring a kid from pursuing something they deeply care about in part (not entirely, porter has a lot of more bullshit reasons) because of their fundamental values & world outlook is crazy.

so yes, 98% of porter’s reasoning is pretty shitty, immature, rife with a toxic view that there’s only one proper way to access rage, & generally not a good thing to do as a teacher, but also within that reasoning is the 2% of ‘there is a fundamental part of yourself that you only value if you can use it to take care of other people & you need to accept that as something that can take care of you, too.’ but that’s something to discuss with a therapist or a guidance counselor, not something that should hugely impact gorgug’s academic future.

[khazadspoon]

I just finished reading them so forgive me but I have to say something dkfbehaiaokabwoo

Roland is cursed with immortality/constant death and rebirth, mainly because he refuses to change and turn from whatever he has his sights on. But this time when he is in the desert he hears Gan speak and say it could be different. There is a choice now. If Roland chooses to change he can finally have rest and go to the clearing at the end of the path.

I don’t know if he lives his life up to the desert each time, I’m inclined to think not since he steps through the door and is just there, I think it’s the Tower offering him a sort of… a bonus item at the start of a DnD campaign.

I don’t think there are right choices, because the choices he makes lead to the next ones. Like letting Jake fall leads to catching Walter which leads to losing his fingers and finding the doors on the beach and his new ka-tet. This in turn leads to River Crossing, to Lud, to the Callas, Maine, Odd’s Lane and finally Can’-Ka No Rey.

The implication of the horn is that Roland’s choices differ this time. He might not let Jake fall and thus not catch Walter. He might not get to the Western Sea, might never see New York, or come to them another way. He might find another way to the Tower that doesn’t lead to the birth of Mordred. A thousand possibilities in a thousand different cycles.

He follows the beam every time but it’s what happens along the bath of the beam that matters.

Because it’s Stephen King, and that guy hates endings more than I hate soggy bread, we aren’t supposed to know. It might be his vision was that the journey to the Dark Tower never ends. But I agree that I desperately want it to finish someday and for Roland to get his rest, so I choose to believe that this time is different and Roland will choose to love and laugh sooner than he does in the last turn of the wheel.

I’m not sure any of this matters or makes sense but I love these books and their non-ending so much it makes my head hurt.

Can we please talk about the dark tower??? Like was the ending implying that this cycle is going to go on forever??? And if not, which I’m seriously hoping for, at what point does Roland do the right thing? Is there even a right thing to do in his situation?? Also, if he has the horn this time around, does that mean he relived his entire life up until that point every single time? And if that’s true, then he’s technically immortal, but also technically not?, because he’s essentially starting over without the knowledge that he’s been through everything already, so does that make him not immortal?

[techno-rat]

Im always thinking about the tubbo execution t.b.h.

coz like it sucked for EVERYONE but schlatt and wilbur, who orchestrated it. Techno realized his allies didn’t give a shit about him. Tubbo was killed traumatically. Tommy watched his best friend be murdered by a man who he thought was his ally. The crowd is various levels of shocked depending on their allegiance

[crossbackpoke-check]

re last answer: please don't stop, being very unhinged about these two pretty white boys is helping distract me from the sharks losing streak rn so bring it on

https://www.tumblr.com/bondedpairs/764566430180147200?source=share

(sideblog woes but there's the link for you) anyway in the vid they talk about going over to each other's houses to have dinner and things and while that is a delicious example of their codependence i love it bc through an rpf lens there is definitely some old man ******* going on. they can have the dilfs and each other.

(someone else mentioned kept boys which i could write an essay on but i fear being Perceived™️)

anyway if you have anything to add to this please do, if not ignore me and i will hide under a rock until the stress-related insanity has worn off and i am a functioning member of society once more 😂

- @bondedpairs

ty for the video!!! and please, WRITE THE KEPT BOYS ESSAYYYY i promise i will read it with my hands over my eyes if you don’t want to be perceived. do it scared!! do it anyway!! we’ll all love you for it!!!

[creative-robot]

I feel like one of the most important aspects of Life Series Grian’s character that gets missed sometimes is how integral his need for choice is, if he doesn’t feel like something is at least somewhat within his control, like he doesn’t have a say, he fights back against it regardless of any logic or history behind it. If he doesn’t get to outright choose his alliances or have a backup plan/trick for fights, he flounders, HARD. He’ll do what he has to to regain some control again. He will almost always choose survival over anything else he has in the games, since that’s the only thing he’s always able to depend on being his choice and his choice alone to choose. And if he chooses otherwise? It’s on his terms

[lesbianyosano]

god i hope after this arc is over the hunting dogs get disbanded and they all die bc of the lack of physical enhancement maintenance

[thatone-churro]

y’know just as soon as i start getting comfortable with the idea of being open/relying on my dad and him being more comfortable with my choices than i feared, i can essentially throw all that out the window with how vehemently he yelled at me at the thought of my getting my septum pierced (even though i never said i was yet. i said my side before i decide anything else). also making underhanded remarks of me never getting tattoos other than the one for my mom. like okay don’t ask me why i don’t tell you about anything or talk to you or anything. what the fuck.

[callixton]

i feel like i’m going to shit myself over the hamlet casting we just did and it’s definitely because we cast a man as gertrude and the last vestiges of my internalized transphobia that i didn’t realize i still have is tearing my confidence to shreds

[lilislegacy]

did anyone else ever find it odd how easily zeus offered percy godhood? and how it almost seemed like he secretly wanted percy to accept? well i did, and after thinking long and hard about it…

i don’t think percy understood what turning down godhood really meant

demigods do tasks for the gods because they don’t have to follow any rules. they aren’t controlled by anyone or anything. demigods are a strange hybrid - not god, not human. they are in between the laws of immortal and mortal. they are not supposed to exist. yet they do, which is what makes them so extraordinary.

percy is crazy powerful. of course, there’s the aspect of raw power. he has domain over air (storms/hurricanes), land (earthquakes and volcanic eruptions), and sea (monster waves, tsunamis, floods, basically anything that involves water.) he can control bodily fluids. he has super strength (with one hand, he held up an unconscious annabeth who was being pulled down by both arachne AND the forces of tartarus). he has super speed (he moves faster than bullets in TTC). no matter how badly you hurt him, he automatically heals and regenerates the second he touches water (an ability no other demigod has). he’s an extraordinary swordsman. very skilled in combat and warfare. he’s smart, and thinks of plans quickly. but he also has a great deal of social/poltcial power… i mean, he’s a leader and hero to both the greek and roman camps. if he says “attack,” all demigods, greek or roman, attack. no question. do you have any idea how threatening that is to the olympians? he’s also best friends and has an empathy link with the lord of the wild, which basically means all of nature is by his side too, including all land creatures. he’s also prince of horses, which means pegasi too (both of which are extremely useful in battle). and of course all sea creatures, including the mythical ones like krakens and leviathans. not to mention many of the gods really like him. hermes, hephaestus, athena, aphrodite, and dionysis have all gone out of their way to help him. artemis holds him in high regard, especially since he saved her. apollo literally considers him his friend! and poseidon - his dad, the god who is the biggest threat to zeus - is fiercely protective of him and cares about him a great deal. many minor gods also like him because he demanded them to be given more respect and for their kids to be welcomed at the camps.

percy unknowingly has more power, both physical and social/political, than anyone should ever have. he may have absolutely no idea, but it must scare the living daylights out of zeus. by accepting zeus’s offer to become a god, percy would have submitted himself to the control of zeus. zeus would be his king and ruler. zeus would then have complete control over him.

but percy said no. therefore, percy remains out of zeus’s control.

percy had no idea what he was doing. but thank the gods he made that choice. thank the gods he’s an incredible person. thank the gods percy jackson has no desire for power, because he has more of it than anyone should ever be able to have.