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irrealisms · 1 month ago

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svsss and sexual violence pt. 3: non-bingqiu sexual violence

standard disclaimer at the beginning: i am not saying that this is the Only thing svsss is about, or that other readings are invalid; i am not intending to character-bash most of the characters here (while i will freely admit to thinking e.g. old palace master or qiu jianluo are pretty one-dimensionally shitty, lots--probably most--of the characters in this series who i mention as perpetrating SA are characters who do have depths & who i in fact like a lot! despite this meta, or perhaps because of it, my second-favorite character is luo binghe, and i am in fact a bingqiu shipper!); and, obviously, huge fucking CW for sexual abuse and adjacent topics. this section is about 2k.

(also: shoutout to @rooses40stepskincareroutine for motivating me to actually write all this out!)

TABLE OF CONTENTS pt 1: shen yuan's realization of himself as a target pt 2: gender and homophobia pt 3: non-bingqiu sexual violence (you are here) pt 4: shen qingqiu's body pt 5: we live in a society

so, in parts 1 & 2 i talk a lot about bingqiu as a site of sexual violence & shen yuan as a victim. but to establish that this is a theme of the book as a whole i want to talk more about the sexual and sexualized violence done and experienced by other characters! this one will be broken into a few subparts lol

volume 3, chapter 16

one of the things i noticed is that a lot of this ramps up all in the same chapter--in chapter 16 of vol 3 (i'm working with the official translation; in the web novel this is chapters 59-63, and I don't know which parts are in the same vs different chapters), we get four different references to sexual abuse of/by different characters, of varying levels of explicitness. some of these, on their own, i wouldn't necessarily take as evidence of sexual abuse, and i don't necessarily stand behind all of these as definitive proof of sexual abuse for the characters on a fully watsonian level--but to have four references, all incredibly close together, after spending a lot of the book on scenes of sexual assault and sexualized violence, is not an accident of writing, either. this is supporting my take of svsss as broadly concerned with sexual violence, as a text.

the first two happen at the same time, and are the most explicit: old palace master.

No wonder the Old Palace Master had always been so good to Luo Binghe, to an almost unsettling extent. No wonder that Su Xiyan, despite being his most beloved disciple, had held absolutely no attachment to Huan Hua Palace and had readily betrayed her sect to run off with a demon youth without ever looking back. This “love” must not have been much different from molestation. And the Old Palace Master’s favorable interest in Luo Binghe was definitely founded in the shade of a former beloved disciple that the sect leader had seen in him. He had extended his perverse possessiveness of Su Xiyan to Luo Binghe, deluding himself into thinking he could groom Luo Binghe into an obedient darling child.

it is IMO explicit text from this (and from what we hear later of Old Palace Master, Su Xiyan, and Tianlang-jun) that Old Palace Master groomed, raped, and generally sexually abused Su Xiyan. It is also explicit text from this section and the section surrounding it, in which Old Palace Master looks at Luo Binghe like he would touch him if he had hands and talks about how he looks like his mother (there's feminization as a site of sexual abuse again!) and SQQ thinks about how OPM was unsettlingly doting on LBH and that he was "thinking he could groom Luo Binghe", that OPM wanted to sexually abuse LBH in the same way.

It is not canon whether he successfully did sexually abuse LBH in the same way, but, well... I observe that (a) Luo Binghe was part of Huan Hua Palace for a while post-abyss (b) after SQQ's death, Luo Binghe makes OPM into a human stick, which in PIDW he does to SQQ--his abuser (c) OPM comments on LBH looking most like SXY "when his eyes are closed", and it's not like he would have been lacking in access to asleep LBH while LBH was his ~beloved disciple~ at huan hua palace (d) SQQ, known Most Oblivious Man Alive who is terrible at identifying when people are sexually attracted to each other & thinks that LBH (both versions) is Immune To Abuse Probably, after, like, a page of seeing OPM interact with LBH (who isn't even conscious for it), is going "OPM groomed LBH". It's not conclusive, but it's really fucking suggestive. At the very least, he extremely textually really wanted to rape Luo Binghe. We've got some Unsettling Implications going on in there!!!

the third implication in this chapter is Qiu Haitang, witnessing Shen Jiu's past:

“It’s not possible… Not possible…” she said, her lips trembling. “It’s fake! It’s all fake! It wasn’t my brother. My brother didn’t do anything wrong—it couldn’t have been him! You’re lying!”

now, on its own this isn't obviously sexual, and whether the Qiu Jianluo-Shen Jiu relationship was sexually abusive at all is something that is left ambiguous through the end of the book, and which I will discuss further later in this post. But this is a major reference to that relationship, which is...well, whether it was sexually abusive was ambiguous, it's not an unambiguous "no" either. this is my weakest point of the four IMO but put next to the others i don't think it's nothing.

the last implication in this chapter is actually from Tianlang-jun, and it's one I haven't seen talked about at all:

“Peak Lord Shen, don’t forget, your immortal body was in our hands for no short amount of time,” Tianlang-Jun replied, his words quite suggestive and teasing both. “There’s really too much we could have done.”

this is in the context of having forced him to drink demon blood while he was unconscious--something that luo binghe did earlier in the book in a very sexualized manner, which was both emphasizing the threat of sexual assault and deliberately analogous to being sexual assault (it's a very literal, physical violation of autonomy). and TLJ is insinuating (suggestively!) that they could have done more, that they had SQQ's unconscious body for a long time, that they could have done anything with it. his words quite suggestive. again, i don't think we have an unambiguous "TLJ raped SQQ" here; i'm not sure if, on the watsonian level, I think that he did? but certainly we have strong implications and threat of sexual abuse. which, again, we are getting a LOT of. right in a row.

qiu jianluo & shen jiu

okay, i said i'd come back to them, right? it is...never stated that shen jiu was sexually abused. i have read and enjoyed interpretations where he isn't, even. but he was, very much, a slave--someone who has to do whatever their master tells them or get punished. someone who is not allowed to say no. the history of slavery, especially when you look at people who were slaves to families instead of companies/factories, is very obviously full of sexual abuse. one of the word choices i'm not sure if i'm reading too much into is that it refers to the slavers as "human traffickers"--which is a phrase that can be and is used for a lot of nonsexual slavery (construction and agriculture have huge human trafficking problems) but in english it does also have very sexualized connotations such that the first thing most people think of wrt human trafficking is specifically sex trafficking (and the implementation of "trafficking" as a word is very racialized, and the combination of these is such that I generally prefer avoiding it altogether and using "slavery", but that's a tangent). and shen jiu, who is a slave being abused by his master...kills all the men of the qiu household, is afraid of men, and only feels safe around women. his master tries to marry him off when he's fourteen and this is one of the inciting incidents of him snapping and killing everyone! can you read this as "he was, as we see onscreen, being physically abused by qiu jianluo, a man, who didn't physically hurt him when he was around qiu haitang, a girl"? sure, i guess. it's not definitive. but....again, they tried to marry him off when he was 14 and unable to say no; even if it didn't happen, that is enough for me to say that the threat of shen jiu being forced into sexual relationships is present in the QJL-SJ relationship. much like OPM and LBH, it's...certainly extremely suggestive, even if it's not onscreened, especially when paired with the novel's overall themes. i'd also like to draw attention to the following quote:

“Gege, he’s so much fun! No wonder you purchased him even though you’ve always hated bringing in outsiders. I rather like him.” Young Master Qiu smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I too like him very much.” Upon hearing the word “like,” Shen Jiu couldn’t help but shiver.

(there's also something to say about his relationship with how he's iirc somewhat afraid of men even before the Qiu family buys him, and how his position as a slave begging on the street was also a very high-risk one, and about how his relationship with Wu Yanshi is clearly pretty predatory on Wu Yanshi's part + Shen Jiu at that point has no other support system, but that's more speculative; and there's a quote that i think fits better with the point i make in the next part but which provides additional support for shen jiu as having been raped.)

@regicidal-optimism also drew my attention to another very specific word choice that i'm not sure if i'm reading too much into--

Having witnessed the incident in its entirety, Shen Qingqiu was stunned. Such a brutal first time!

and...this is about SJ's first time killing someone. but "a brutal first time" without specifying is...well, it's a very, very specific wording choice, which is (IMO) clearly evocative of the way people discuss sex.

bing-ge

man i have enough to say about bing-ge (mostly wrt svsss's themes of gender) that it could really be its own full post BUT most of that would be a ~tangent. i'm pretty sure "bing-ge is a violent serial rapist" is, like, uncontroversial and i don't need to get textual evidence there, but for exactly that reason i didn't want to fully leave him out of discussion about sexual violence? so instead in this section i mostly want to draw attention to something that @wolffyluna pointed out to me last month, which is a section from book 1:

The girl thought, “Since I’m about to die, I must leave behind some memories to ensure that my life won’t have been in vain. I don’t have many days left, after all, so I won’t suppress my feelings anymore.” Then, using her weak and fragile body, she pushed Luo Binghe down. Luo Binghe put up a brief show of resistance before telling himself “She did it all for my sake. I don’t have the heart to reject her final wish.” He yielded, still half-reluctant, and went along with it…

this is...not framed by Shen Yuan, or presumably by PIDW, as rape. but it is at the very least dubcon, and it's most likely rape. resisting someone who is pushing you down and trying to have sex with you before yielding, "still half-reluctant", is not. good consent. that's sexual coercion and assault at the very least. but because he's a man--the epitome of masculinity, even! the great stallion novel protagonist, bing-ge!--this is framed as him progressing, as him gaining a wife. which is...really, really horrifying, and once again Says Some Things about how Shen Yuan sees gender. i also recommend these posts which were linked to me today by @rooses40stepskincareroutine about bing-ge and sexual violence!

gender

this is another short section but: something i noticed while writing this up is that the primary unambiguous case of sexual abuse (other than, well, bingqiu, but bingqiu is more complicated for other reasons) is that of old palace master and su xiyan; and that, at the end, when a crowd is decrying su xiyan (for, in large part, having been abused by old palace master), misogyny is a major part of it, and (for obvious reasons) his attempt to coerce her into an abortion bc her child is by someone he sees as a romantic rival is ... a very historically female sort of abuse to experience. given how deliberate mxtx is with gender/feminization and its ties to sexual abuse in svsss, and on a less positive note how few female characters she has, i think the choice to make the one "this character was, unambiguously and repeatedly, molested/raped/sexually abused" a woman who is then subject to sexist victim blaming and entitlement to her body is probably a deliberate one.

#svsss #scum villain's self-saving system #meta #my writing

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gayvillainera · 2 years ago

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🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

— this, but in the sense that I would love to hear more about what you think about Rebecca as a character. You write her wonderfully mean, but does she have redeemable qualities for you?

OOOH yes okay. (Also buckle in, this got long.)

Part of what makes Rebecca so fun for me is that the only information we have of her is filtered through at least 2-3 unreliable narrators at any given time - we have the Narrator's feelings about what she's seeing and being told (insecurity, anxiety, awe) PLUS the feelings of whoever's telling her about Rebecca (obsession, rejection, anger, fear) AND what they want to accomplish in telling her about Rebecca (intimidate her, comfort her, relieve themselves of guilt). So very little about her is ever fully true, but no one seems to be (deliberately) lying about her either... which means there's so much room for interpretation.

I think ultimately, she's a selfish person. She doesn't do anything she doesn't see a point in doing, including things like staying monogamous to her husband, but I think she's incredibly socially astute. She wouldn't have been widely beloved by everyone if there wasn't something to like, so she was very charismatic, observant, and good at making friends - and most of the time, that comes from a genuine desire to like people and be liked. I think very few people are actually evil manipulative sociopaths who are only nice to people to control them.

She's clearly a very talented sportswoman, and that takes a lot of dedication, discipline, daring and ambition. I don't think she mindlessly indulges in vice, but she's going to do what she wants when she wants to, and I think she'd be up for trying anything once. She's also probably competitive and stubborn to a flaw.

She is also, I think, a very tightly controlled woman. She might act on impulse or do "illogical" things but I think she's always thinking about what's next and how to get to it, and always calculates her next moves based on a strong internal logic even if it's not obvious from the outside. (BUT - how much of that is influenced by Max's belief, which he shares with the Narrator, that Rebecca "purposefully goaded him into killing her", thus casting her as some all-powerful mastermind?? I'm not sure. I think it's also interesting to consider that she was just a woman who got dealt incredible hands until the day she didn't anymore.)

I think she can be incredibly mean, and that living with Maxim probably made her worse in that regard, but I don't think she's inherently cruel or evil. I'm writing her much further along that spectrum for Wenn der Abend Beginnt because, honestly, it's fun and kind of hot to explore that sort of attitude in fiction and it works to enhance the themes of monstrosity, perversion, and reciprocation that I'm exploring in the fic. But I think she was a person, and she was loved, and I want to reconcile that those things can be true AND that she can have done bad things AND that we never hear the full side of her story anyway. I want to explore all of it!

So yes, I absolutely think she has redeemable qualities, because the best characters do and in my opinion the best "villain" characters ESPECIALLY do, and du Maurier wrote some good damn characters.

#rebecca das musical #rebecca de winter #daphne du maurier #jon-withnoh #asks #thank you for reading this entire essay if you made it this far i love thinking about characterization aaaaaa #also: spoilers if you're still reading - in the next chapter of abend she actually has to reckon with having and expressing emotions #and i'm having so much fun writing it

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bokugaos · 4 years ago

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blessed is the man.

characters: konoha, bokuto

length: 2.3k

tw — incest, alcohol, aphrodisiacs, voyeurism, oral (m. receiving), nipple play, lactation

summary: konoha slips something in your sake and things don’t go as planned, however it looks more than either of you can handle.

Working for the Bokuto family is not all bad. They pay well. Coming from old money means they are rather influential as they have roots in most businesses and fields, guaranteeing that they stay in the top 5% of the country. Any illegal activities they do are actually rather negligible.

Most of the dirty work is still handled by the head of the clan and his son, leaving his grandchildren out of the misery of the business world domination. The two eldest granddaughters have been following the exact footsteps as they have come of age, each in charge of a different branch of the oligarchy.

The title of the future successor would eventually fall on the only grandson, who is actually a great authoritative figure when given the right moment and opportunity, granted, if there are no distractions around. One would argue that as the youngest of the family, you’re the one most neglected, unbound by any responsibilities and most family matters.

The empire’s grandchildren are a feat to be ogled—though that one is not necessarily described by the person who introduced Konoha to the job. Rather, it is a quiet perk that he comes to realize as soon as he steps foot in the estate, catching eyes full of you walking along the hallway with your kimono restricting wide movements, and he follows your shadow as you move rather eloquently under the moonlight.

He goes back to the same wing the following night, and the night after that, and after, but he doesn’t get to see you. Instead, what he has been getting is the sight of the grandson drunkenly stumbling in after a night in town, clothes hanging off of him sticky with spilled alcohol.

Bokuto is easy, open with affection, most often drunk and not caring as long as he gets to have fun with his friends or his bodyguards. Konoha doesn’t understand how the assigned right hand of his, Akaashi, he remembers his name, puts up with the young master. But Bokuto is actually bearable, he supposes, he is just ridiculously energetic and bubbly and up to anything that even remotely promises to take him away from handling his actual duties as the future heir.

His little sister, on the other hand…

Konoha can tell that you are just as slutty, but just more stingy about it. Under the second eldest daughter’s provision, your older sister who quite naturally drinks sake every night just because it’s her hobby—routine, as she calls it—you get drunk, too, but in the confines of your room where your kimono will slip deeper and deeper off your shoulders until it is hanging off of you sloppily and showing off the curves of your tits.

Sometimes you’ll stumble your way out into the gardens where you will lie in the wet grass, legs spread and giving anybody walking past a nice view of your luscious thighs because of course the youngest in the Bokuto empire is a raging slut that does not make a habit out of wearing underwear.

But—you’re as oblivious about those tender, smooth skin as you are about everything else in your goddamn life.

It is your own fault, really, what is happening to you. You’re forcing their hands on the issue—if only you had been more forthcoming with spreading your legs, and the staff wouldn’t have had to resort to such dire measures…

Only that’s not true. Not really. Of course they could have just let the issue lie and watch you come out of hiding; waiting until you’re in a drunken stupor so they can creep out and jerk off on you; maybe drape you around their shoulders like some perverse hunting trophy, showing your tight little ass off to a camera and spreading your cheeks wide so they can take pictures of the cunt you’re so stingy with.

The truth of the matter is, though, that Konoha doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be a lewd little fuck doll, head lolling and drooling onto your own tits. He wants you aware and needy, begging for his cock and whining for his cum, crying in despair when you’ve can’t have either of them because he’ll deny you as fucking long as he can before he’ll fuck your cunt loose and sloppy.

It’s absolutely, hilariously easy to do. He gets the substance on his errand out into the city, buying them from a seedy mechanic in between jobs of collecting extortion money and fixing spare parts.

Then he mixes them into the order of sake, preferring to make sure you will be too drunk to care about any taste that might be skewered by the added dose of a chemical cocktail.

Lucky for him, you’re actually drinking alone tonight, no patronizing older sister in sight. So he, finally, brings the bottle to you, already sitting with your legs spread wide, kimono rucked up on your thighs.

And then—he just has to wait for it to hit your bloodstream. For you to get squirmy and short of breath, hips fucking helplessly into the air and nipples hard and escaping from the heavy folds of your kimono.

He waits for you to get hot and needy, to call for someone to alleviate the heat surging in your little body, and then he will descend upon you like a vulture, urging your thighs apart and fucking you until your pretty cunt is a sloppy, gaping hole—

You do get restless. Your shoulders are trembling, and your nipples plump up into fat little nubs that beg for some sharp teeth to bite and pull at them—but when you start to sing, drunkenly crawling around the tatami mats of your floor on all fours, crying like a cat in heat, you do not call for a servant to alleviate your need.

You call for your brother.

And Bokuto Koutarou, dutiful now as Konoha has never quite seen elsewhere, comes running. He watches, dismayed, horrified and horny, as your brother takes the situation in and just… has at it.

In his eyes, you can’t be more than drunk; his slut of a sister that calls for a fuck once the alcohol has finally reached a threshold that makes your inhibitions slip like the heavy fabric of your kimono slides down your shoulders. He doesn’t know about the thing Konoha has slipped you; doesn’t know that the latter has primed you to spread your legs for him so he can pull you on his cock and make you piss yourself with how good you think you’re getting it.

So in Bokuto’s mind, he has to simply be a deviant that takes advantage of his drunk little sister—and Konoha wonders if that is even worse than what he has been planning to do to you.

“Imouto,” Bokuto croons, hands hovering over your naked shoulders as you become aware of your visitor and turn around, glassy eyes fixing on him with desperate intensity. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling for me?”

There’s a sweaty sheen crawling up down from your hairline and up from your collar, making you feel so stuffy that you can’t keep your eyes open fully—but Bokuto doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t even seem to take notice, because he has a goal; a mission—and that is to get in his little sister’s cunt, free and unhindered, no inhibition.

You are uncoordinated, but fuelled with hot, needy determination, you manage to grab at his pants and drag them down his thighs. Bokuto’s cock is nice and plump already, and fills easily enough as you croon at it, lipping sloppily at the shaft while leaning your head against his thigh.

It looks like the two of you have done this a million times. Bokuto’s hand falls into your hair, idly stroking through it and untangling the little tie from the ends so he can muss it properly. There is no hesitation; no awkwardness. Just Bokuto tilting his hips forward a little and using his grip on your hair to guide your mouth along his rapidly fattening cock.

Bokuto is using you like a whore he’s paid for the night. He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling you away far enough that he can start to pop just the tip of his cock between your plump lips, then pull it away from you again after just a few desperate suckles and uncoordinated lashes of your slippery tongue.

“Damn… you’re drooling so much today.” He whispers when he sees the steady drip down your chin. You just stare at him, looking brain dead and horny, whining when you paw the folds of your kimono aside and show him your pussy shyly, hoping he’d do something about how incredibly wet it has become.

It’s only then that Bokuto starts to pause and question the situation. Crooning at you and pushing you to lie on you back; asking you if you’re not feeling well, but also not stopping to touch you, gently slapping at your cheek to make you open your eyes and stare at him blearily as his other hand travels down and gropes your tits.

Apparently the young master has some standards that involve his hopelessly drunk play things not being absolutely comatose as he fucks them. You are gurgling breathlessly, mindlessly arching your tits into his hand, your hips grinding up happily from where the folds of your kimono are parted, dripping steadily and stickily.

Bokuto has taken to caging you between his knees, holding your jaw in a tight grip to make sure you keep staring at him while he pinches your nipples mean enough to make you cry out even in your drunken, aphrodisiac stupor.

He feels something warm and wet hit his chest, and he looks down in confusion, mouth dropping open on a soft, mesmerized ‘o’ as he sees the quite literally milky liquid slide down his pecs where it hit him. His eyes travel to his hand, thumb and forefinger still pinched around your swollen nipple.

Your wet swollen nipple.

“What the fuck, are you...?” Bokuto’s voice breaks, higher and a little panicked. He lets go of your jaw with his other hand, grabbing at your tits and squeezing until you’re whining and squirming. Milking you. Losing his goddamn mind as liquid starts rolling from your ripe teats as you sob and artlessly fuck the air.

“Niichan, please..!” Voice trembling, you defeatedly move one of your hands over his, placed over your swollen nipple, the area puffy and supple under his fingers.

Konoha wanted to curse; Bokuto’s hands grabbing at your tits were a big obstruction to his view enough, and now your hand just adds to his frustration. He watches closely as Bokuto pinches your nubs and you moan, open mouthed and filthy, your head tipping back as milk squirts onto his hand. The sweet scent intensifies and you shudder at the feel of warm liquid trickling down his arm.

Not even pausing to think about it, Bokuto brings his arm up to his face and licks the milk off, an acute sweetness exploding in his mouth. A choked grunt distracts him from his reverie and he looks up to meet your unfocused stare. It sounds very distant, yet very .. present at the same time.

Silently catching his breath, Konoha alternates between staring cautiously at Bokuto, and sending contemplating peeks at your swollen breasts. But it seems that the young master is equally as distracted by the puffy, shiny nipple right in his face. A single bead of white is gathering and it is so tempting, Konoha wants to cry from frustration.

The arousal is so potent and thick in the air, he can almost taste it in the back of his throat. He’s not sure what Bokuto wants to do to you, but with the way his cock is already so rigidly twitching, the outcome seems guaranteed.

Bokuto drags his tongue through the sticky mess on your chest, taking his time to circle your swollen nipples, his gaze steady on your face. Keening desperately, you thrust a hand into his hair and tug him closer. He wraps his lips around the raised peak, flicking the tip of his tongue over the sensitive flesh. More warm sweetness bursts into his mouth, judging by the way you cry out and start whimpering even louder.

Konoha nearly slams his fist to the door but settles with a string of curses beneath his breath, of how he’s supposed to be kneeling there, taking your nipples in his mouth, tasting the sweet milk your body is so eagerly offering.

Not that both Bokuto and you seem capable of noticing anything else right now. Your face is contorted in bliss, mouth open on a nearly endless moan and your hips keep stuttering against his knee—the one he’s using to keep your thighs apart—craving for more friction.

It only takes a minute of the combined sensation on your nipples, one being sucked so thoroughly, circled and flicked with his warm tongue, and the other being teased endlessly by Bokuto’s tireless fingers for you to arch up, screaming, body straining as you come hard under him, wetting his thighs with your slick.

Amazed, Bokuto shoves his already wet hand down to your pussy. He looks like he is floating, the euphoric taste of your sweet milk combined with the nectar from your cunt hitting his taste buds.

Konoha just has to sit and stare from the gap between the sliding doors, mouths softly gaping, cock hard at the knowledge that the chemicals he has mixed into your sake must have induced it; proving that he can quite make your body do more, just like how he’s made you lactate like a cow.

And Bokuto just laps it all up as if he has any right to it.

Life is so unfair sometimes.

#tw stepcest #tw aphrodisiac #tw alcohol #tw lactation #bokuto smut #.bokuto!#.konoha!#.fukurodani!#.fics!#konoha smut #konoha x reader smut #bokuto x reader smut

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tobeornottotc · 3 years ago

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Upcoming BL Analysis: Baker Boys; A Look at Antique Bakery:

Why is Antique (Korean) A BL

It’s odd for me how no one sees how romantically coded how Antique is like so much! Especially between the two ‘platonic’ bros Sunwoo and Jinhyuk, one believed to be fully straight by all and one out and proud. I think people don’t see how much the director was trying to show that this wasn’t as easy as that, instead the director tried to explore how they both loved each other romantically , like these two loved each other, and it is hinted secretly that as time goes on and Jinhyuk deals and gets healed with his trauma he’ll slowly become more accepting of Sunwoo as his soulmate/partner. But also he thinks he’s straight only because he’s terrifyingly homophobic because he thinks he was molested when he was a kid?

He misunderstands his mum’s reveal as a child does, and starts being traumatised by his own version/imagination of the narrative of his kidnap. Because a man did that to him he can’t accept touches from a guy romantically because he’s traumatized and doesn’t know how to get over that. Everything he says to Sunwoo from the moment they speak to each other stems from his pain, fear and trauma buried within. He doesn’t mean it, it actually frustrates him when he does it and he says/admits it later to the audience. It’s the opposite, he always cared about having Sunwoo near him, he also found himself without meaning to wanting to be protective of Sunwoo since highschool, he kept notice of him and never wanted to forget him because he never meant what he said to him, and even later he sees Sunwoo as someone meant to be by his side no matter the obstacle or frustration with different personalities and issues. He’s also shown to be jealous romantically may I add and admits that he links Sunwoo leaving him to his past lovers who left him, for him Sunwoo is who he couldn’t bare the thought of walking out on him. He wanted it to be Sunwoo no one else to stay by his side and help him get and capture the kidnapper he’s been haunted by for years. Sunwoo’s baking was going to be his answer, his salvation essentially, something they both would do to save many kids. He loved Sunwoo so much but couldn’t process it because of his trauma and it’s until the kidnapper storyline ends with him finding purpose and meaning after saving others like his past child self from another person, that’s when he starts to heal and he’s okay with going with Sunwoo to the gay bar, with finally touching Sunwoo. Still goanna take him time to be vulnerable because he’s used to always having a mask it’s Jinhyuk; he hates being vulnerable but with Sunwoo he understood that they are each other’s, doesn’t need any title they were set to stay with each other by each other’s side no matter what. And Sunwoo also understood that and proceeded at the end to start flirting once again with him.

Even when he doesn’t have to, hes the one who comforts and listens to Sunwoo real secret about the reason why he falls for abusive people, and it made both of them open up to each other deeper about their goals. self, pains, and scars. Gah there’s so much to break down about why Jinhyuk does have feelings for Sunwoo but yeah it’s odd people don’t notice how the director made sure and even admitted that he was exploring what they had and made it super obvious that they’re both broken people in their own way that needed to grow and find themselves before they could be together. They had scars, pain and self hate to get over and Jinhyuk really struggled with not understanding why his trauma made him refuse to let Sunwoo in his heart romantically he just couldn’t because he was automatically afraid of the idea when he associated it with perversion etc because of the misunderstanding that he was hurt by someone perverted (a word his mother used to describe the kidnapper) to him. And it’s understandable and it’s automatic/ psychological and painful to watch unfold and takes a while for him to understand and reveal the truth. But he does processs it all, and shows us all the flashbacks of why they both interlinked, with him showing protectiveness but also care instead of objectifying Sunwoo (he’s the only guy who doesn’t) it’s what makes Sunwoo although scared to do so/ normally afraid of love and always insecure about himself come to tell him how he feels and why Sunwoo stays in love with him even till the end as his boyfriend literally spelled out to him that it’s Jinhyuk he’s staying for no other excuses.Sunwoo from the start felt safe with Jinhyuk which is odd concerning how Jinhyuk acts with the mask. But again he felt seen, not objectified and affected by Jinhyuk in a way that made him actually grow and find himself. Listen to the dialogues people.

For Jinhyuk it showed that although he has his mask and his crass horrible attitude and trauma, Jinhyuk likes being with Sunwoo, he notices him, refuses to forget him, decides he’s the one he wants no matter what obstacles he brings to make him get his kidnapper, Jinhyuk finds himself automatically caring and wanting to keep Sunwoo by his side you could even argue though there’s the obvious jealousy with Sunwoo’s ex, that he’s also jealous in high school about others objectifying Sunwoo he doesn’t like the idea of it and he reacts and I think that’s another reason why we got that flashback at the end. The whole movie I could speak for hours of every scene and why it showcases their love even with obstacles

It’s like the movie Night flight it’s also a love story and both Jinhyuk and the main guy there showcase the same journey of finding their answer before realizing the truth about what/who they love. The other character takes a while to process his truth and his feelings before finally being vulnerable and having an open ending where he begs his partner to stay by his side as he’s tired of pushing him away. Same as Jinhyuk, same open ending, same understanding of what they mean to each other. Same vague answer that it’s not platonic at all and suggests like Antique that he loves the other. Both traumatized and determined to push people away and hide and not be vulnerable, both phobic because of fear connecting to trauma. For Night flight his fear of being beaten up and being kicked out and losing his power which if you watch that movie is just terrifying to do. Where in both their minds being bi/gay is terrifying because of the environmental mindset they have about their past or people who hurt them in the past.

Even the scene where he tries to say he’d sleep with Sunwoo everyone thinks that proved he was straight when noo aren’t people seeing the layers and the struggle? You can see him struggle, you see him panic because of his trauma of being touched etc you see him try to make Sunwoo stay by his side with the plea and reason of just because. Just because he wants him there, even when its hard for his mind to process the answer he knows he wants him by his side no matter what. Sunwoo walks away because he struggles to explain why, the reason though stays obvious from the start he asked him to be his baker even when he’s scared of girls (something Jinhyuk says is his excuse for why he wanted the bakery which is complete bull because he ends up giving up that idea because of Sunwoo’s phobia instead of just firing him and finding someone new, something the movie later proves he can do if he wanted to) just because he wants it to be Sunwoo. Once reunited he wants it to be Sunwoo by his side no questions asked. And although his mask makes us think he doesn’t care about people, or love or commitment at the start, we see as always he’s wearing a facade, he does, he wants love so much, he’s a caring boyfriend and devoted, he’s also protective of the people he loves but as exposed he tried to the straight thing to propose to several women he felt he had to do so to but they could see through his mask and some were turned off by his trauma affecting him in his nightmares. They couldn’t get through to him and so they left. Sunwoo was the one despite knowing his flaws, despite their past he never lef, and Jinhyuk wanted Sunwoo to stay no matter what and he understood that he was his family (christmas scene) , his hope to getting his answer and remove his trauma, his sidekick, his helper, the person who helped him start the bakery where he found his love for something again.

Sunwoo represents so much to Jinhyuk just as Jinhyuk also even when hurtful and problematic in his mask still pushes Sunwoo to growth and also represents so much to him! Gah I love this movie so much, I love it with such a passion and each time I watch it I just love them so much. Antique is one of those ones where it’s what I want from BL a plot that’s increasingly amazing and not connected to that, then a deep and surprising love story at the core between the two and then covered with humor and mystery and more genres. It’s a roller coaster of emotions, has incredible growth and character arcs, has found family, the discovery of self, healing of trauma and pain and a hopeful happy ending. It’s just everything. Extremely thought out adaptation, edited to Perfection and outstanding acting that won awards because it deserved it. That’s it. I just absolutely loved this so much. The Korean version tried so hard to be as romantic as possible in my opinion, every subtext points to it and it takes a few layers to break down to understand how, but the whole show is all about that emphasis on layers and uncovering masks and layers of every character! Gah. Please go watch it I can’t wait and will pray Thailand does better with Baker Boys. But I don’t know how they can surpass this.

#Thai bl #Korean bl #bl series #bl drama #reviews #analysis #antique #baker boys

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curly-bangtan · 5 years ago

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Heatwave Drabble #6: lovesick

(sorry i had to insert these gifs. if this isn’t the taehyung you’re imagining for heatwave, you’re unfortunately wrong.)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! :)

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: You fall feverishly ill one morning, and the responsibility of looking after you falls onto Taehyung’s lap. Of course, there wouldn’t be a problem with that at all if the both of you weren’t so confused about your feelings for each other.

Genre: drabble, fluff, crack, little angst, fwb au, roommate au, f2l

Warnings: tsundere!y/n being bratty as usual, boyfriend but not ur boyfriend!taehyung who all our hearts belong to, “I love you so much” (I feel like that should be a warning lol), maybe confession who knows

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: It’s been over a month holy shit. But VOILA! Enjoy the calm before the storm and try not to bust a lung from all these feelings running wild. (requested by my bb @taexxxiiaa.)

Taehyung should have known something was wrong with you when you didn’t protests against him slipping into your room last night and crawling beneath your covers.

Usually, you would at least act like you don’t want him there, complain about his invasion with that trademark eye roll of yours, before snuggling back to his warmth, ass conveniently wiggling onto his poorly-hidden boner. His hands would quickly find your hips, one of them creeping under your shirt to cup your breast, lips latched onto the cradle of your neck. And before either of you knew it, he would be inches deep inside you, both still dressed because impatience and neediness gave way, and shedding of clothing isn’t necessary during copulation anyway.

But last night, all you did was hum a pleasant sigh at his arrival, eyes not even opening as you pull his arm tighter around your waist. Taehyung fell asleep beside you within minutes.

You have been feeling slightly under the weather lately, sniffly nose and funky throat. Most do in the harsh winds of January where winter has still yet to defrost into the floral bloom of spring. But when Taehyung had so much as mentioned the possibility of you maybe having a wee bit of a cold, you had been passionately adamant that you - you - are not one of those commonfolk who catches colds from a slight breeze.

��Do I look like a peasant to you?” You had scoffed in utter dismay at his proposition. The audacity! “I don’t get sick this easily, certainly not before you do. My immune system is superior and that’s a fact.”

However, you are soon to be haunted by your own words because what is a fact is that you are currently shivering in bed beside Taehyung despite your immense radiation of heat, skin scalding to touch, groggy even after ample hours of sleep.

Taehyung is a lazy riser, but your state has spurred his eyes to fly open, springing upright and instantly wide awake. The sheets around you are absolutely drenched in your sweat. As you’re still in the foetal position you had fallen asleep in, he carefully turns you on your back, you hardly rousing from such commotion that would usually wake you up. You would look rather peaceful in your slumber if it weren’t for the perspiration coated all over, damp hair matted to your face, and brows occasionally drawing almost as if in pain. When he places his palm against your forehead, he curses. “Fucking shit.”

You have a fever. That’s just grand, isn’t it? You should have listened when he told you to wear more layers but no, apparently fashion matters so much more than your own health. Superior immune system his ass.

“Hey…” Taehyung nudges your shoulders gently. No response, still shivering in your sleep. “Y/N, wake up.” He prods a little harder this time but, again, to no avail. This isn’t looking good. You’re not even stirring, and he knows you’re much lighter sleeper than he is. Taking your face in his hand, he shakes your face side to side, your heat almost burning his fingers. “Baby, please…”

Nothing.

Cue the panic unleashing in his head.

You have a fucking fever, and you’re unconscious, and you’re shivering like you’re hypothermic, and your forehead feels like a fucking kettle. What the hell is Taehyung supposed to do? He doesn’t know. Of course he doesn’t fucking know. You’ve always been the one to look after him. What does he do now? Should he call the police? Wait no, the ambulance. Yes! The ambulance! This is a medical emergency for sure, it has to be!

He reaches for his phone on the bedside table.

But wait.

As his thumbs hover over his screen, he realises that he doesn’t know the number for the ambulance. Is it just the same number as the police? Holy fuck, what does he do? Why is he so incompetent, what the fuck?

“Taehug…” At the sound of your voice, soft and nasal from your blocked nose, he spins around to you, heart leaping out his chest in relief. With one eye barely open, you’ve lifted your head as much as you can, clammy hand reaching for his jumper to tug him to you.

“Oh my god, are you okay? What the fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” Wasting not a second, he dives back to your side, fingers interlocking yours in a motion that’s like second nature to him. Jeez, you’re sweaty. “How are you feeling?”

The pale absence of tint in your lips speaks for itself. Your eyes are still not fully open, or more like they can’t be. You regard Taehyung with a slightly confused expression. “Burning. My head is killing me.” It’s barely even a whisper. Taehyung’s heart aches. It aches more knowing just how much pain you must be in to forget your pride and admit your vulnerability out loud. You never do that. Not even that time you fell over on the ice-skating rink and broke your wrist, yet insisted it had hurt no more than a bruise, even though Taehyung had seen how much you were wincing when you thought he wasn’t looking.

“Ah, okay, fuck. I don’t know what to do, Y/N. What do you need? Water? Ice packs? Ibuprofen? Are you hungry? Do you want some cereal?” Taehyung is duly aware of how much he currently resembles a concerned mother fussing over her sick child, but he doesn’t care. He’ll be mother hen if he has to.

“Shh… Too loud, Taehub…” Laboriously lifting your arm as if it weighs two tonnes, you silence him with a finger to his mouth. And he shuts up immediately. He shouldn’t, given the circumstances, but he savours your touch as your finger slides down his bottom lip when your arm drops. “Water, please.”

And like that, Taehyung is sprinting to the kitchen for a cool glass of water for you, ignoring the cold that slaps at his bare feet. He has never looked after a sick person before, this is all very nerve-wracking and stressful for him. He is so fast that he arrives back to you with only half the contents of the glass still contained, the rest spilled during his hurried journey.

Taehyung finds you sat up, looking a little more awake than half a minute ago but no more alive. Your hair is tangled the way it always is in the morning, and your face is puffy the way fluffy pancakes rise - the same way that makes Taehyung want to kiss you all over and tell you how much he likes pancakes and he likes you. But god bless, you’re just sat there, spaced out, staring off at the sloth drawings of your bed sheets, you poor thing.

Something clenches in Taehyung from how you kind of light up when you notice his approach, eyes twinkling and corners of your mouth turning up ever so subtly.

“Here.” He breathes, now especially weary of his volume so not to disrupt you. You jump at the cold that’s pressed on your lips, and take the glass from him as he perches by the bed next to you. Not that there was much to begin with, but you down the water like you do with vodka shots during happy hour. “Better?”

With a great sigh, you shut your eyes and shake your head. “No. I feel like we’re in a furnace, and someone is hammering my head.” There is something very gentle about your voice that Taehyung does not recognise at all. It’s soft, shy even, the completely opposite from the way you normally speak. And from the babyish way your lips are jutted out…

Taehyung doesn’t for a second doubt that the fever is frying your brain. Because your mannerism would never be this mild and soft-spoken in your right mind. You haven’t even sworn once despite the condition you’re in; that’s how he knows with absolute certainty that you’re not yourself.

Just as he is about to suggest taking you to the doctor, you pinch the material of your top and begin peeling it off. It rides up your damp skin to reveal your glistening waist. Higher. Over your ribcage. Higher. The underside swells of your breasts peeking through.

All sensible thought vacates him.

Nowadays, not much can fluster Taehyung anymore, so the attack of heat rushing to his face feels rather foreign, strangely tickling his chest. The female body is a frequent sight for him, especially yours, so this really shouldn’t faze him at all. It’s perhaps the context of this situation, how you are hardly conscious, completely vulnerable and beside yourself.

“Stop.” He catches the material of your rising shirt in your hand. You look at him with a cocked head when you notice his prevention, cheeks red from the fever, confusion worn so genuinely that he chokes. “Fuck- Don’t look at me like that while taking your shirt off. Stop taking your shirt off, even.”

“Look at you like what?” Your voice is soft, its usual cockiness absent. Just pure innocence. It shouldn’t suit you given your typical boisterous character, but it strangely does.

“Lookingatmelikesomeinnocentfuckingkittengoddammit.” He mutters under his breath, staring at the wall to avoid that heart-ruining expression of yours as he tugs your top back down. It takes everything in him not to dwell on those perversions. God, what is wrong with him? This is so completely inappropriate.

“But it’s hot…”

At a moment of weakness, Taehyung takes a glimpse at your face and, lo and behold, immediately gets shot in the heart by your beseeching pout. Not to mention the way you’re whining…

Fuck. Taehyung is going to fucking melt.

“Okay, but don’t take off your shirt just like that. Warn me next time.” He grips onto your shirt as tightly as it takes to ground himself, fist rested on your hip. You’re his friend right now. Nothing more. Stop being a sopping melt.

“Okay, sorry. But can I at least change into new jammies? These are too stuffy.” Disgruntled, you plead, eyes wishfully wide.

Jammies? Jammies? Are you kidding him? Taehyung is this close to banging his head against the wall. Who is this person sitting in front of him right now? Because he has never, never, in his two and a half+ years of knowing you, witnessed you like this. Literally who are you?

“Um, er, okay, so- How about, I’ll let you change into some lighter clothes, then we’ll get you to the doctor. How does that sound?” He tucks your hair neatly behind your ears and pluck on your lobe endearingly.

“What? No, please, no!” You throw your hands up and groan, narrowly missing whacking him on the chin. Now, you’re infamous for your stubbornness against medical care, steadfast to your belief that one’s body is sufficient in recovering itself in most cases. No pain killers, no cough drops, no flu medicine. Taehyung theorises that you like to suffer, gives you a good boost of self esteem knowing that you can endure the pain. He knows what you’re like with your pride and ego.

But now is not the time. “Why not? You’re burning up. Don’t be so headstrong.”

“I don’t want to move.” Sniff.

“I’ll carry you.” That makes you pause.

“Taehyung, no! I don’t wanna go.” Tantrum on the brink of bubbling, as you bang your fists against the mattress and cross your arms, frowning in displeasure at him. Ah, there’s the Y/N he knows. “And you better keep your distance too, or else you’ll catch whatever I have.” Sniff.

“I’ll keep my distance if you let me take you to the doctor.” Two can play this game. Taehyung’s stubbornness isn’t to shabby himself. And though in your past arguments, he has usually always been the one to be lenient and back down, he won’t budge this time.

“Stop being fussy, or I won’t drink any water or take any medicine and-”

“Stop being a brat, or I’ll kiss you right now.”

You shut up right away. It’s hard to suppress the smirk of triumph that overcomes Taehyung. “W-What?” You stammer, visibly shying away from you.

“Did I stutter?” He dares to provoke, before swiftly leaning his face into yours.

“Dude!” Even in your sickly state, your reflexes are quick, hand immediately catching over his mouth before he could kiss you. His face stops, inches away from yours, the only barrier between you being your hand. In such proximity, he can feel the heat melting off you, radiating into his bones. Your eyes, wide and panicked. “Are you crazy? You’re going to get ill too.” Taehyung swears the heavy tint in your cheeks is only partially due to the fever. He smiles against your warm palm, making sure to pucker his lips for emphasis of his intention. You are so fun to fluster.

“Then go to the doctor.” His voice his muffled by your hand.

“You’re so stubborn, god!” Oh, the hypocrisy. “Look. The doctor can’t do anything except give me some medicine to decrease my temperature. But fever is good for the body anyway. It’s optimising the temperature for my immune cells to fight off the bugs. This is gonna pass. Stop worrying.”

Lightly, you shove his face away and slide down the bed until you’re buried neck-deep by the covers, mouth pursed in a tight, irritated pout that Taehyung finds adorable.

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem with me kissing you then, if it’s nothing to worry about.” Taehyung hovers over you, dangerously close, and you quickly cover your own mouth this time. This is a fun game, one that he knows he will win. If there is one thing that can overcome your stubbornness, it’s his own health in jeopardy. And Taehyung doesn’t even feel remotely bad for taking advantage of that.

It’s not that he wants to catch this sickness from you… But if that’s what it takes to threaten you to seek medical help, then he’ll do it a hundred times.

Plus, he misses your lips, okay? It’s a win-win situation for him: either he gets to kiss you, or you let him take you to the doctor. Genius.

For a moment, you just stare back at him, fury brewing in those eyes that are no longer hazy from the fever but ablaze with annoyance and displeasure. But he already knows what your answer will be.

“You’re a bully, Kim Taehyung, you’re a fucking bully. I’m not going to speak to you ever again.”

Taehyung chuckles and hauls you out of bed.

You sulk at the way to the hospital, not uttering a single word to Taehyung as you swore you would. He’s kind of impressed, actually. Anything he asks you, you would reply with a nod, shake, or shrug. He guesses it’s a combination of your anger and genuine fatigue and light-headedness.

When he tries to loop his arm around yours in the Uber, you let him, but look out the window as if he isn’t right beside you. Hmpf, so this is what he gets for looking after you. Fine, he can handle it.

“Are you just going to ignore my presence, baby?” The pet name is intentional, to tease you further and see if you would break your silence to tell him off.

You don’t fall for it.

Instead, you briefly turn to him, give him a daggered look that says I’ll never suck you off again, and turn back around, pretending to find the empty streets wildly interesting.

“Fine, baby girl. Suit yourself.” Taehyung catches the driver’s amused eyes in the rearview mirror. Something along the lines of: women, am I right? He smiles and rests his head on yours for the rest of the ride.

Upon arrival to the hospital, you silently storm out of the car and register at the reception. Taehyung doesn’t quite understand why you’re so mad, and what exactly you have against doctors that appears to be so personal, but he is finding this rather entertaining.

The two of you are ushered to the waiting room by a kind-looking nurse roughly of his mother’s age, the type of kind that makes you want to pour your heart out and entrust her with all your secrets.

Still not a peep from you. Though many sniffs.

“How are you feeling right now?” He asks as he sits himself down on the seat next to you. It could be wishful thinking but your eyes soften when you look at him. You throw him a thumbs down before returning to the form you are intently filling out.

You are startled when Taehyung takes your chin in his long fingers, pulls you slightly closer to him and plants his lips on your fever-heated cheek. “I’ll get you some water then.” He gets up before he can dwell too long on your reaction, the way you are completely frozen, pen nib pressed so hard on the paper that a blodge of ink has oozed out of the ballpoint. If he dwells too long, he thinks his heart might do a funny thing.

As he walks towards the water dispenser in the corner of the room, he passes the nurse again, who smiles knowingly at him as she heads towards where you are sitting, no doubt to check up on you. God, he wants to spill all his feelings to this nurse. She reminds him of his grandmother when he was young.

Taehyung returns with a cup of cool water, this one more full than the one he’d poured for you this morning. He finds you chatting quietly to the nurse, the face mask she had just handed you resting around your chin, oblivious to his approach.

“You are lucky to have such a great boyfriend, young lady. Trust me, he’s a keeper.” The nurse muses at her.

Taehyung fully expects you to scoff or choke on your own spit, stand up and yell at the clueless woman: WHAT THE FUCK, HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND. EW. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Because that has totally happened before; people tend to mistaken you two as a couple everywhere you go.

Except... You just blink at the nurse, rather blankly as if trying to comprehend her words. Then you nod.

Just nod.

The paper cup almost slips out of Taehyung’s hand.

“Love, the way he looks at you? Anyone would die to be looked at like that.” The nurse continues.

Taehyung rushes to your side before she can say more.

“Here. Water.” Clearing his throat, he hands you the cup without making any eye contact. He hopes he’s not blushing but the heat rushing to his face says otherwise. When he glances up at the nurse, she is smiling at him as if she knows exactly what is going on in his mind.

“Thanks.” You whisper.

Oh, so you’re back to speaking to him now. Is it because of what she said? When your eyes meet, something clicks. An emotional click that tells him that your annoyance towards him had been a mask for your genuine gratitude. Taehyung’s chest is fuzzy with relief.

Not long later, you are called to the doctor’s room. Taehyung sits waiting for you outside, silently pondering the nurse’s words and your lack of protest.

“Come on, Y/N, what’s the point of going to the doctors if you aren’t going to take the medicine they prescribe you?” Taehyung lets out a rumble of frustration. A bottle of water and a packet of pills clutched in one hand, he is this close to plucking his hair out.

“The point of going to the doctors was to get you not to kiss me and catch the same flu. The doctor said this virus is contagious, and could still be at this stage.” Your voice, nasal from your blocked nose, is stifled further by the face mask. Changed into a t-shirt and shorts so you don’t sweat through your clothes again - yes, the shorts, the heatwave shorts - you cross your arms and roll to the other side of the bed. Taehyung’s hand is itching to spank your ass pink.

“That means I’ll probably get ill anyway in the next few days. We literally kissed yesterday.” He points out, and it might be psychological but his head is beginning to hurt a little. Of course, he wouldn’t dare tell you or else you’d turn this around and be the one fussing over him. “Come here.”

Taehyung locks his fingers around your ankles and drags you back towards him, ignoring your feeble squeak. He gives in and smacks your butt lightly.

“Oi!” You twist around and kick the shackles of his grip off. “You dare hit the sick?! My head is killing me as it is.” Sniff.

“Oh, so you admit that you’re sick? Why don’t you take the medicine then?” Forcing you onto his lap, he wrestles your battling arms and hold them in place behind your body. In any other situation, he would be awfully turned on right now. Something about your brattiness is a kink to him.

With the rest of your face covered by the mask, your eyes are fiercely emanating your obstinate defiance. It should be a scary look, your death glare, but after this long, anything you do in Taehyung’s eyes has been reduced to animated cuteness. He feels like he’s the only one who could go up against you like this without cowering. You’ve stopped struggling against his grip now, rather sulking as you’re perched on his thighs. He doesn’t hesitate that you’re unconsciously pouting behind that mask.

“Because I promise I’m going to feel better. Medicine is for the weak. The doctor said herself that the fever will subside tomorrow! Then what’s the point of administering these extra chemicals into my body if I’m recovering on my own?” You whine.

“To help you recover better!”

“Flu medicine is a scam. You’re too gullible-”

“Do you love or care about me at all?”

You tense at his abrupt question that appears out of the blue. “Well... yeah. You-You’re my best friend. Which is why I don’t want you falling sick too, so just shoo.” You’re squirming, trying to brush off your initial surprise at his question which is all the more accentuating your bashfulness. Taehyung just wants to kiss, god dammit.

“Then don’t you know that it’s killing me to see you in pain like this? To see my best friend burning up with a fever and refusing to let me look after her? Are you seriously that cold-hearted to let me suffer like this if you claim to love and care about me?”

Yes, Taehyung is playing this game. Emotional manipulation? Yes. Probably a little bit of a dick move? Yes. But does he care as long as it does the trick? No.

“Bro, you can’t use this against me. Just let me suffer, I like to suffer, this fever feels fucking fantastic.” When he lets your wrists go, you punch his arm lightly, frowning, though he can see the tiniest spark of amusement in your pupils. Not to mention the rise in your cheeks that indicates your attempt in hiding a smile.

“Shut up and be a good girl, or I’ll kiss you right now.” Hands running up your bare legs, he tugs you closer by the hip before resting his arms around your waist. Though you’re arching away, he sees your cheeks rise even higher.

“Stop trying to kiss me.” You groan overdramatically and try to wriggle away; you would think he’s the one with the illness from how much you’re trying to get away from him. When you proceed to clamp both hands over your masked mouth, Taehyung knows he’d sooner receive the ball of your foot to his temple than be able to feel your lips at this rate.

Okay fine, different approach. “I’ll cut my hair off.”

“What? No-nO. Dude that’s not fair, what the fuck?” Your whole body falls limp in defeat in his arms as you wail. Taehyung can’t help but laugh. “Okay I will take the stupid medicine. Please don’t cut your hair.”

“Okay, good girl.” Humming against your neck, he tries to hide the smug grin of his victory. “On one more condition though.”

“Wow, you’re literally using my love for your hair as blackmail, you dick. Spit it out.” He feels your fingers sink through his long untamed curls, tips massaging his scalp like your lover. Taehyung sometimes feels like you love his hair as if it is a completely separate entity from him, like if you could marry his hair, you would.

“Let me kiss your mouth.” He looks up at you, craned neck and sheepish smile. He knows he’s being unfairly demanding, especially of someone who is ill. But it’s been over 12 hours since you have last kissed. 12 hours. Come on. He’s only human.

“Taehyung, I swear to G-” If your legs weren’t straddled around him, he knows his chest would be met with your foot.

“And I swear to God I’ll get a buzz cut.” Not even bluffing. Every other guy goes through a crisis at some point in their life and gets a god awful buzz cut. Nothing special.

“OH MY GOD- NO. BUZZCUT? NO. Okay, okay, quickly kiss me over the mask, then I’ll take the fucking meds.” The utter horror and mortification that detonates across your face has Taehyung cackling. In the back of his mind, he wonders if you’d still like him with no hair. He’s sometimes afraid that you wouldn’t. But then again, he has vomited on your face before, yet you still like him. So there’s that.

“Wait over the mask?” It just registers with him what you said.

“I’m all gross. You don’t want to kiss me on the lips anyway.” Your gaze falls as you sniffle for probably the thousandth time today, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck but dropping it right away when you realise that it’s a nervous tick.

Taehyung sighs. “Over the mask is better than no kiss. I’ll take it.”

As his face approaches yours, he is keenly aware that you’re unwilling to meet his eyes. Cute. Soon, your eyes are level with each other, yet you only dare peer at his nose. He boops his nose to yours, breath separated only by the thin material of the mask, waiting for you to lean in.

But when you make no move to initiate it, Taehyung smiles. God, since when did you become so shy. He knows he tends to have this effect on people but since when did he turn you into a blushing, eye-avoiding mess?

He doesn’t expect much when he places his mouth over yours. The gauzy material of the mask grazes his lips, smelling like the overly-sanitised stench of hospital. So he is surprised to find something in him tingle slightly, even despite such physical obstruction of intimacy. The white fabric folds over the curve of your lips to mould with his. He feels a rush of cool from the sharp inhale through your nose.

He pulls away sooner than you want. Your expression is confused by the short duration of the kiss, so not what you expected and is used to.

“I’m sorry, that’s not going to do it for me.” Taehyung rasps. And with that, he pinches the mask down and presses fully onto your lips.

Your heat that greets him sends a surge down his spine. Jeez, you are burning. But he’s pretty sure he is too, from the way he can hear his blood pounding in his ear. You are completely static at first, frozen in place from shock of his boldness. He can wager what exactly is going on in your head. This boy. This boy has some fucking nerve.

And that is correct, he does have some fucking nerve.

But soon, you are kissing him back, probably not out of your own free will but simply from the natural instinct that overrides you when met with his lips. Nowadays, kissing each other feels like sinking into your bed after a long day at college. Comfortable, heart-warming. Kissing other people doesn’t feel half as nice, just like how no bed ever feels like your bed.

Taehyung can sense how much you’ve been longing for this as well from the low gentle vibrations of your throat as you purr. Your entire face is a few degrees hotter than it normally is, and worry is gnawing at the back of his brain almost irrationally. Because he knows that as much as you are bickering with him and acting playful, your head must be hammering. The last time he’d checked, your temperature was still 39˚C.

He has to be the one to pull away again. “You’re burning.” He watches your eyes linger on his glistening lips before glancing up. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine…” You whisper, leaning up to peck his lips several more times. There are moments where Taehyung’s heart completely clenches, like seizes. You say you don’t want to kiss him for his own good, yet here you are savouring his taste like you can’t get enough. Fuck. Taehyung is feeling things.

“Are you sure? Here, take this.” He passes you the bottle of water and packet of medication that were carelessly tossed to the side when he was busy holding you. Without protest, out of fear for the fate of Taehyung’s hair no doubt, you pop a pill out of its foil bubble. “Two pills at once, three times a day.”

“Yes, dad.” You roll your eyes and put them in your mouth, swallowing without so much of a gag.

Taehyung sucks in. “Don’t say the d-word.”

“Wh- I purposely said dad, not daddy.” Flabbergasted by his implication, you scoff and remove yourself from his lap, rolling back under the covers until no more than a burrito with your face peeking out. “I can’t believe you are even thinking about that, nympho.” Sniff again, though you make no effort to put your mask back up.

“Hey, I’ve been so good, I was just warning you! That’s a triggering word for me.” Taehyung joins you under the cool duvet. “You have absolutely zero right to call me a nympho. Do I have to remind you of the time you called me out of my lecture so we could fuck in the toilets in the middle of a school day? Or that time in the library-”

“Shhh. I’m ill, my memory is a little hazy.” You smile, rather wholesomely, at him.

Sometimes, when he looks at you, he can look through the narrow windows of your ego and view the persona that lie within. Just a girl who loves kisses and cuddles and making bad decisions at 3am.

And maybe a girl who loves him.

You fall asleep fairly quickly after the medication. One would have thought that would give Taehyung plenty of time to make use of his day, maybe start an abstract painting or finish his coursework due in a week and a half. But nope.

Taehyung has discovered that he has an extremely irrational fear of you being sick. He simply couldn’t stop himself from going into your room every 15 minutes, making sure that you’re still breathing and placing cold towels on your sweat-beaded forehead to help your temperature drop. You are in deep sleep, shallow breaths, no eye movement. He may have snuck in a few cheek kisses just to check if you’re really asleep, and you were. He still kissed you a bit more anyway.

After a whole evening of restlessness, he finally decides to give up and go to bed. He debates sleeping with you, just for his own peace of mind, but you probably want your own space anyway.

So, after brushing his teeth and changing into his so-called jammies - he will give you shit for that once you feel better - he quietly creeps into your room one last time with a fresh towel. With soundless steps, he perches lightly on the edge of your bed, eyes adjusting to the pitch darkness.

This time, you wince slightly at the cold wetness of the towel, rousing, but not completely conscious.

“Taehyung?” Your voice is incredibly hoarse, barely a croak, so he scrambles for your bottle of water and feeds it to you.

“Hey, it’s me.” He murmurs softly, and resumes wiping your forehead gently.

“Wh… are you do..g here?” Incoherent syllables indicate how you’re mostly still asleep.

“Looking after my baby. I’ll go to bed and leave you to rest soon.”

When your hand abruptly flies up and clamps around his, Taehyung jumps. You’re freezing. “No. Don’t go, please.”

His mind doesn’t know what to respond to first, your sudden cold sweats, or your request for him to stay. His chest squeezes. “I- H- You’re freezing, Y/N.”

“I know, but please stay.” In the dark, Taehyung can only barely make out the shape of your face and see that your eyes are still shut. Maybe you’re dreaming.

Please stay.

“Okay, don’t worry, of course I’ll stay. But just please tell me how you’re feeling?” He climbs in at the other side of the bed and presses his palm on your neck. Your temperature regulation is fucked up by this fever. Seeing you like this makes something in him crack.

“Finenowthatyou’rehere.” You snuggle up to his chest and mumble into his hoodie, already beginning to fall back into heavy slumber.

Chest squeeze, again.

Taehyung feels his own heart pounding. These words of endearment are rare from you; he’s going to hold on to them for as long as he can. He plants a kiss on your forehead. “Of course I’m here. I’m always here.”

He is such a sap, he knows, a hopeless fool. But you’re his missing part, he feels it in his bones. He hopes that he’s yours too.

Then you mutter something inaudible into his chest. The iciness of your touch flails his back as your hands reach beneath his hoodie to hold him tighter. There’s something about the way the scene is set, how you’re delirious from your fever, clinging onto him in complete darkness of your room. Taehyung’s emotions are flooding.

“What was that?”

“I love you so much, Taehyung.”

His brain short-circuits entirely. It just switches off.

Love

You

Much,

Taehyung.

Words that he’d never expected to hear from you, not tonight, not any time in the near future, and certainly not unprovoked like this, utterly at your own accord.

Then his brain turns itself back on again, and is instantly swept away by the chaos that breaks out. “W... What do you mean by that?” He needs to know that he’s interpreting this correctly and rather than hearing what he wants to hear.

“Mmmm...” You groan sleepily. Taehyung shouldn’t take this too seriously right? You’re not even in your right mind. Your head is still buried in him, inhaling his scent like he is your oxygen. “You know what I mean. I just mean I love you a lot more than I love myself.” Sniff. “I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.”

I love you a lot more than I love myself. I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.

Taehyung feels a sting in his eye, what the fuck.

He isn’t moving. He doesn’t think he can. And so you just lay there in each other’s arms, in complete silence, but also not silence because you had just declared your love for him and all his thoughts are screaming.

What the fuck is ‘I love you big and tall and wide’? He fucking loves you big and tall and wide too.

Okay. Okay. Let’s stay calm.

No. He loves you.

He has loved you for a very long time, and a part of him has always known. It’s you. It’s always you. The way you met. The way you found each other. The way everything fell in place in his life after you. It’s fate. It’s all fate. And it’s all you. Because Taehyung is not a violent person by any means, but he would kill for you, he would do anything for you. It scares him.

And that’s just the funny way that love works. A lot of the times, it is standing right there in front of you, waving its hands and shouting for you attention. And you dismiss it at first because you mistake it for friendship, even though there’s an inkling in you that has considered the possibility that it’s more than that. So you go about your life, day by day with this person who you love but don’t know you love yet, collecting your little moments together into a heart-shaped glass jar without realising it. Until one day you look at the jar and see that it’s completely full.

His heart is full. His heart is full of you.

He doesn’t know what to do or what that means. He isn’t even sure of his own feelings, whether it is a heat of the moment confusion, or a cauldron of bubbling emotions at the brim of spillage.

But no, he is sure.

He knows that he loves you. He knows it.

Because why else would nothing boil his blood more than the sight of you in the arms of someone else? Why else would nothing hurt more than seeing you in pain like this? Why else would nothing bring him more joy than simply sitting next to you, being able to touch you, making you laugh? And why else would it feel like he can spend the rest of forever just looking at you, memorising your details while you play with his hair that you love so much?

He loves you.

It is perhaps the darkness that gives him such courage, because he gathers himself and says, “I love you. So fucking much, I love you, Y/N. I thought I knew what love was before you, I thought I was happy and content with my life. But now, I can’t even remember what I was like without you. Because that guy wasn’t me. I’m not me without you. And I love you. I entirely belong to you. And I love you.

“I love you a lot more than I love myself. I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.”

And it’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest. His insides aren’t twisted into knots anymore. Suddenly, he can see with such clarity. In the dark, he only sees you.

He sees you fast asleep against his chest. Arms looped around his waist in a way that makes him never want to leave his bed.

Taehyung takes a deep breath and exhales. Maybe from relief.

You are asleep. You hadn’t heard.

Yes, he is definitely relieved. He doesn’t think he’s ready to face the consequences of his feelings yet if he had really just poured his heart out to you. You probably didn’t mean it that way anyway; he is overthinking.

But the ‘I love you so much, Taehyung.’ The heartfelt passion in your voice could not have been his imagination.

So, with a great sigh, he makes use of the fact that you’re asleep to rehearse it a few more times.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

02/02/19

@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams @camilaxpolanco @d-noona @haechanspudu @dawnispeaceshe

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tothedarkdarkseas · 3 years ago

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The way Vampire AU has taken off has really warmed my heart! So many great thoughts all round. I sent you some elaborations on my own personal headcanons for it as a submission, just for the fun of it. Enjoy!

Hi! I got your submission last night and read over it-- it's very elaborate, you've clearly put a lot of thought into fleshing this AU out and it sounds like a ton of fun. I know you mentioned at the end that you had no intentions of writing it because you're busy with other fandom projects, but I'm sure there are many who'd be interested in reading your ideas if you ever decided to make a sideblog for it. I'll post your submission for others to read below a cut here so that the post won't be too long on the dashboard, and I'll reply to some of the specifics underneath!

Yes! I have so many more thoughts on a vampire AU, I figured it would be easier to put them in a submission. Hope you don't mind.

The concept is just so fascinating to me, because so much of it lines up perfectly with the character dynamics we're given in the canon, and what doesn't has the potential to expand on and explore those dynamics in a really interesting way.

I agree 100 percent about the tone it would have to be written in. An actual brooding, dark prince Murdoc type of thing wouldn't work for me. (Murdoc would try to play up that persona, but in reality, he'd be far from it.) In my mind, the tone would be half What We Do In The Shadows and half Being Human UK. Four misfits living in a mouldering mansion somewhere, getting on each other's tits - but deep down they've got each other's backs. There's a bond, even if they can't quite explain what it is.

In my mind the bloodlust would function as an addiction. Murdoc is no Mother Theresa but he's not comfortable with indiscriminate murder either. (Guilt and self-loathing is not a good combination in Murdoc.) Knowing there is no in between for vampires - you can't have a sip here and there, it's abstinence or nightly slaughter - he stays teetotal from blood and tries to channel his desires into other addictions instead. Any and every addiction, really. Drugs, booze, sex, theft, you name it. Which is how he comes to be doing donuts in a stolen car in a Tesco car park, at the exact same time Stuart Pot is making a midnight run for condoms and Tango.

I picture Murdoc's turning of Stu would be this confusing moment that even he can't fully explain, so he's always switching his story about it. One day he'll say he didn't want to deal with the police, another day it'll be vampire enforcers he was afraid of - "total killjoys, they'll bung you in a blood-filled coffin for a hundred years over the TINIEST infraction". Other days he comes close to admitting he felt guilty, that he flipped out over the idea of killing someone after all, when he's dedicating all his energy to avoiding doing just that. Sometimes he just calls it a moment of madness.

But in every vampire movie, there's that moment. The moment where the newly-turned vamp rises from the grave as this beautiful unearthly creature of the night, and I mean . . . this absolutely would be Murdoc's experience of it. He's almost convinced himself there aren't real vampires like that, that it's all Hollywood bollocks, and then Stu rises up in front of him like some black-eyed, blue-haired god, and the part of Murdoc that isn't utterly gobsmacked by it can't help resenting the little sod for making it look so easy. Murdoc likes to take the piss out of him and claim he's like one of those Lost Boys California pretty boy vampires, but he's jealous really.

I imagine Murdoc would be similarly mercurial about how he was turned. There's always some hyperbolic story about it, designed to paint Murdoc in the best light. Sometimes he was the premier occultist of his day. Sometimes he sold his soul to the devil for immortality. Sometimes he was turned by a beautiful vampire seductress, who was bitter he broke her heart. It's all bollocks. The truth is definitely something less glamorous, and I would imagine actually much sadder as well? I'm not sure what, but I'm picturing something like Murdoc's father being some small-time occultist who sold his son to vampires, or maybe Murdoc was working some menial job and was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he was turned by some vampire who would have drunk him dry, if Murdoc hadn't fought him off. Or maybe it's a bit of mystery, like the mystery of his mother in canon. Someone did this to Murdoc, someone made him what he is, but he has no memory of it. And all the different stories are actually partly a coping mechanism for that, as he tries on different explanations for size. (It would also explain why he would refuse to abandon Stu after turning him. Because navigating this new reality alone is something he wouldn't wish on anyone, even some dumb kid.)

I think the supernatural element would also be a great way to expand on and deepen Murdoc's relationships with Russell and Noodle. In supernatural fiction there are always two types of beings that hate each other. Usually vampires and werewolves, but often vampires and ghosts too. As, obviously, vamps can't drain ghosts, and they spend their lives running from the guilt of all the people they've killed. Ghosts are a constant reminder of that - and of the afterlife they both fear, and resent that they were denied. I can picture Russell maybe helping Murdoc exorcise the ghost of Hannibal or Jacob, and that's how they meet. (And why he has more patience with Murdoc than most. He's seen him at his most vulnerable.) Noodle would be great as a vampire hunter too. Her dynamic with Murdoc would be fraught as on the one hand, she respects Russell and venerates him for his connection to the spirit world, so to a certain extent anything he says she'll try to respect. And Murdoc is supposedly reformed, and she has moments where she even almost quite likes him. But her instinct is not to trust him. Her instinct is to put him down, and they both know it. As much as he battles his bloodlust around her, she battles her urge to put a stake through his heart, Van Helsing style.

Finding out he turned someone would be a MAJOR ruck in their relationship. But I think Murdoc would use 2-D to convince her and Russell to stick around - because he turned him, but it wasn't like he was chowing down on the lad, it was practically an act of charity, really. Practically an act of atonement. And if they both leave now, Stu is only left with Mr Bad Influence Murdoc Niccals, to teach him how to be a vampire, and restrain his urges and whatnot. And Murdoc has never been much good at all that AA, 12 step stuff, so unless they WANT poor sweet Stuart Pot to wind up spending eternity as some kind of crackhead . . . it would be a kindness to him, really, to stick around.

I could not agree more about how Murdoc turning Stu would mirror their Phase Two dynamic, with Stu literally having become "the thing Murdoc turned him into", and resenting that. But also, having moments of perverse gratitude for it? Stu is vain, and vampire Stu would be gorgeous, which I reckon he'd love. And though I think he'd hate that his normal life of footy with the boys and Sunday dinner at his mum's was over, I can also imagine him feeling this whole new world has opened up in front of him, something most people aren't special enough to gain entry to. And he likes that.

I can even see the fame thing and the band happening. Music would be a great, healthier way to channel the urges he can't act on. And I can see Murdoc agreeing. Admitting that he's been playing in bands for years, because it's actually a great cover for a vampire lifestyle. Being nocturnal is practically a prerequisite, when you're a rock star, and you can get away with looking all kinds of weird when you're in a band, because people just chalk it up to the aesthetic. Still, until he met 2-D, none of the bands he'd been in were actually any GOOD. 2-D reawakens his love of music, the same way he is the turning point for Murdoc's career in the canon.

Vampirism would also be a great way to explore Stuart's flaws. His vanity is an obvious one, but I can also see him avoiding his family and not letting them know why he'd disappeared for years. Just too self-absorbed to appreciate the harm it's caused. I can also see the pill problem happening as he imitates Murdoc's habit of abusing substances to try and blunt his bloodlust. I can imagine him saying stupid stuff like "you never even took me to the hospital!" and convincing himself he experiences phantom headaches, because he doesn't want to admit he's becoming just like Murdoc, actually. He tells himself the pills are medicine and he really needs them, and it's not the same at all.

And I can see him getting too carried away with his lusts, and having several near misses or disastrous incidents where he brings girls home and loses control of himself. Where Murdoc jumps in and saves it from getting too out of hand, but at the same time exposes how he's basically been stalking Stu "for your own protection", with a side of decidedly voyeuristic intentions. Stu has . . . strong (and somewhat confused) feelings about this.

I think Murdoc would be the same trouble magnet in the vampire underworld that he was in the criminal one. Feelings about Murdoc range from "this unwashed oik should NEVER have been allowed to become one of us" to "I WILL STAKE MURDOC FAUST NICCALS IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO". Murdoc would definitely continue his streak of petty crime any time he entered the hallowed halls of the vampire hoi poloi. He'd be pilfering left and right. And I can't imagine he'd ever kowtow to the aristocracy, which, in a subculture as obsessed with class as vampires . . . yeah, he's insolent, to say the least. And they hate it. They just hate Murdoc, generally. I imagine 2-D might consider crossing over to the dark side to join them, to spite Murdoc, before eventually he realizes that - amazing as it sounds - even Murdoc has higher moral standards than these people. Maybe he's better off with the devil he knows.

I love what you said about Murdoc and Stuart being hung by the same rope, for all eternity. That's exactly the dynamic I think a vampire AU would bring about. I also think Murdoc being Stu's vampire sire would be interesting in the romantic sense, as part of them would always second guess if that was the reason for the bond they feel. Are they developing feelings, or is all of this just the blood bond? I can imagine Stuart hating his own inability to judge why he feels so drawn to Murdoc, and I can see Murdoc trying to convince himself any possessiveness or pride or protectiveness he feels over Stu is just what all vampires feel when they turn someone. (Even though it's not.) It would be a potent brew.

Anyway, this was long but I will never have the time to actually write this (I have five WIPs in other fandoms already) so I thought I'd let it out somehow. Thanks for giving me the space to talk this over!

(If anyone wants to run with this and make something of it, by the way, have at it! Just credit me somewhere for the idea. That'd be good.)

This was quite a ride! I love the idea of Stuart Pot's mortal life ending when he's mowed down in a Tesco car park buying condoms and Tango. It's cruel to say it's what he deserves and frankly the complete antithesis of the whole conflict I'm begging for, but... it's what he deserves. I'm also very intrigued by the angle of treating bloodlust as an addiction: it could theoretically be overcome, but practically speaking, rarely is. This makes it easy to see how Murdoc spins off into such a cartoonishly extreme life of debauchery. I love the bit about Murdoc changing his story of what happened, both the night he hit Stuart and his own origin-- the difference being that Stu does know what happened to him, whether he ever chooses to believe Murdoc's ever-shifting justifications for it or not, but no one can ever really know where Murdoc came from except himself. I definitely agree that the truth has to be less glamorous, less thrilling, less worthy of tales and legends. I like Stuart and Murdoc best when they are not men born into greatness nor men born for greatness, not inherently, and I love the private grappling with the belief that they are special and the fear that they probably aren't. Your explanation of the foil-like dynamic between vampires and spirits/ghosts is interesting, I don't know if that's an established piece of vampire lore or if that's your own invention, but I think it's a really solid one. I don't know if I've truly seen those two creatures explored in a world together with such a direct emphasis on that ghoulish ecosystem, so to speak.

And, well, I'm quite predictable but I'm ready to invest $5k in a full novel exploring Stu's estrangement from his family and friends following the transformation, the psychological toll it takes to choose-- though he may feel he has no other choice at all-- to abandon those relationships, how his own descent may mirror Murdoc's as he shelters himself in chalk-tablet excess and a vibrant, at times frightful carnal life to distract himself from the guilt. I'm dying to see how he could approach mending those fences again after years away. It isn't something one sweeps under the rug, isn't something that he can make amends for. This sort of thing shatters a family, and in my imagining of Rachel and David, it certainly shattered his. This kind of permanently-marred family drama really captivates me and is something I don't think we should shy away from in stories about addiction, and it would be fascinating to explore the human element of that against the metaphorical monstrous one.

I love what you mentioned about the "blood bond" and how it factors into the pull between them they're too unsettled to really name. This adds an extra layer of confusion, as you say, and better justifies why they find themselves orbiting each other, pretending there's a blood-coloured chain tethering them and ignoring the heavy weighted padlock in the middle that pulls them down, down, down. I've spoken a lot on this blog about why Stu is participatory in the relationship when he dislikes Murdoc in such a profound way, and while I absolutely never tire of the messy, bleak human weakness and ego of that, it would be quite special to explore that with something that almost feels like an excuse for Stu, a macabre justification entirely out of his hands; it gives him permission to be part of this broken spiral and absolves him of the responsibility of acknowledging his choice. I'd like to think he still lives with it, as Murdoc does too, but they may appreciate the safety of the smokescreen as much as they struggle to see through it.

Thanks for sending me your ideas, I hope other readers will enjoy seeing your elaborations, and if you're having fun thinking about these two goons I'd encourage you to consider making a blog. Sometimes you get lucky and draw in people who are incredibly kind!

(Lastly, unrelated fun fact about vampirism in my life: my first job was playing a vampire at a haunted amusement park. Our "Scare Zone" was designed as a junkyard taken over by a vampire gang, and I was the "queen" with a throne made of old tires. It was... a fun job and also not a fun job, haha.)

#anon au #thank you!

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uraharashouten · 4 years ago

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@mindinmuken said: Oct 16, 2020 · 4 months ago [[ about time I got around to this, lol ]]

[ Now it's my turn to send you a meta question about your muse and his zanpakuto: How is Kisuke's relationship with Benihime? Did he ever allow himself to be consumed with scientific endeavors to a point where their relationship was adversely impacted like Aizen and Kyoka Suigetsu, or does Kisuke understand and respect the significance of a bond between wielder and zanpakuto? He did invent that technique that allowed him to achieve bankai in three days, so I'm quite curious to the nature of their relationship for him to think about that! ]

Thank you for this meta question! It’s given me much to think about. I believe Benihime is actually fully his partner in research and development, despite his obvious (cough) consent issues.

Whether he invented the Tenshintai outright, or misappropriated Onmitsukidō technology for his own purpose (which honestly feels very in-character), the end result was the same: Urahara Kisuke forced his zanpakutou spirit to manifest without her consent.

Better minds than me have applied themselves to the implications of this as expressed in his shikai commands, which all have vaguely BDSM connotations, suggesting that what he did there was a perversion of the natural bonding that must take place between a Shinigami and their zanpakutō spirit, which in fact, it was.

But did it adversely affect his relationship with Benihime? I actually don’t believe it did. Urahara has demonstrated a very close and effective working relationship with his zanpakutō spirit, as evidenced not only by how he explains such relationships during his training of Ichigo, but insofar as he seems to be able to access her basic abilities even in her sealed form.

Benihime is all about reiatsu analysis and synthesis at the molecular level. We learn of these core abilities in the fight with Yammy:

This techniques, Tsuppane (突ッ撥), has (according to Bleach Official Character Book 3: Unmasked) the power to nullify any reishi attack. Tangent to this is the ability to restrict and deliver kinetic energy. These abilities are evidenced by the Chikasumi no Tate (血霞の盾) shield, which even repels Ichigo’s Getsuga Tenshō, and the restraining Shibari (縛り) Binding, which can then be enhanced with Hiasobi, Benihime, Juzutsunagi (火遊紅姫数珠繋) to deliver explosions to a bound opponent.

What’s interesting is that Urahara appears to have access to Benihime’s abilities even when she is in sealed form.

First, the restriction. Urahara uses a technique called Shitonegaeshi (褥返し) (according to Bleach Official Character Book 3: Unmasked) to pin Ichigo. Interesting that this technique is called Return, implying that it’s a sort of barrier technique, reflecting energy back and not permitting it to pass.

Ichigo can’t seem to move and is wholly intimidated, and Benihime is sealed.

I’ve discussed his ability to analyze reiatsu on contact in this piece, in which I observed that simply by bumping into Kurosaki Masaki, he was able to discern she had sustained a Hollow infection. We don’t see Benihime at all in this interaction, but we can presume she’s with him; he always seems to carry his shikomizue. But in any case, the fact that he’s able to do this analysis instantly only underscores the point that her innate abilities are simply an extension of his own. I believe that this ability is also alluded to in this panel from chapter 402, in which he observes that in the past, Aizen would not have touched him twice without some kind of plan. This indicates to me that Aizen was well aware of Urahara’s capabilities. The fact that Aizen is so confident in this encounter, likewise, signals to Urahara that he believes he is transcending beyond Urahara’s/Benihime’s power to affect him.

Finally, we’re given an example of how Urahara is able to use Benihime to transform reishi in sealed form, as seen in chapter 606 where he’s shown drawing a line on the ground with the end of his cane. This is later is revealed to be the bread-crumbs path Grimmjow was able to follow to the opening he’d left in Askin’s Gift Bereich.

These are just a few explicit cases in which Benihime’s powers seem available to him. Or perhaps, Benihime simply amplifies his own innate abilities. Either way, it’s clear that they’re close collaborators. I don’t know that he would have been able to perform the analytical research he does, or invent some of the things he does — particularly things like Soul-Object Integration, which has Benihime’s fingerprints all over it — without her partnership.

I believe the tone is set when we first meet her properly: in the sink-or-swim training in the underground dojo, in which Kisuke forces the first encounter between Ichigo and Zangetsu. He educates Ichigo about his own zanpakutō by introducing him to Benihime, calling her by name during his invocation of shikai (“Awaken, Benihime!”). He then explains that every zanpakutō has a name, and that is hers. The first time he presses an attack against Ichigo (chapter 66), he says 行くよ紅姫 (“Here we go, Benihime!”) and blasts the towering rock formation behind Ichigo.

In the official color manga, the attack is neutral-colored, not red, making it clear that this is not an invocation of her shikai abilities – she’s simply his partner in battle.

This is why, in my roleplay, I occasionally allude to his internal dialogue with her, because I do not believe he needs to go into a meditative trance to communicate with her. I imagine they are more present with each other than that, to the point where she will occasionally insert her snarky commentary. In canon, we never hear her speak, but I imagine she’s like him in terms of dry, sardonic humor — yet for him, she takes on an almost motherly role at times. To see her in bankai form, tenderly healing his eyes, was an absolute gift; for a zanpakutō with the terrifying abilities to separate reishi bonds at the molecular level and restructure anything it touches, it’s a good thing she is at her core a helpful entity.

#[[ headcanon ]]#[[ meta ]]#[[ to me the fact that it's hard to tell #where his powers end and Benihime's begin #really speaks for itself ]]#[[ the fact that Soul-Object Integration leaves the soul *unharmed* though--#*gestures toward the Goddess of Mercy* ]]#mindinmuken #long post cw

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thepandapopo · 4 years ago

Text

A Step Through Time - Chapter 1: Visitor

Me: Don’t do it

Brain:

Me: Don’t do it.

Brain:

Me: We haven’t even finished the other one yet-

Brain: HERE’S A SYLVIX IDEA THAT YOU NEED TO WRITE SINCE IT’S PREVENTED YOU FROM DOING ANY MEANINGFUL WORK ALL DAY.

Me: FUCK.

Pairings: Sylvain x Felix ; minor Claude x F!Byleth

Warnings: mentions of masturbation/sex; typical Felix swearing.

Synopsis:

When Felix agreed to go back into the past to make sure certain events during the war actually happen, he expected that he would be the only time traveler at the monastery for those three moons. What he did not expect was for his 6 year old daughter to send herself to the past 4 weeks after himself because she missed him.

The one where the post time-skip gang meets an older Felix Fraldarius from the future who tells them he’s there to help for a few battles for reasons he can’t explain and everyone’s dying to figure out who the hell he’s married to - wait, what the fuck he has a daughter?

Some notes:

Verdant Wind / Azure Moon route mash up. Basically the Golden Deer Route but then at the Battle of Gronder (Ch: Blood of the Eagle and Lion), Dimitri joins up with Claude.

Dedue is back. Dimitri isn’t crazy anymore. Rodrigue is unfortunately dead.

All characters are recruited (including Black Eagle students)

Next Chapter (coming soon!)

XxXxXxXxXxX

It takes roughly two weeks for the Resistance Army to fully wrap their heads around the fact that there are not one, but two Felix Hugo Fraldarius’s at the monastery.

It takes them another week on top of that to come to terms that the newest Felix to join their army is from the future. 12 years, to be exact.

The day that Future Felix - that’s what they’ve dubbed him and he thinks it’s ridiculous; who has time to say that mouthful? - arrives knocking on the monastery gates, the entire place goes into an uproar. Claude and Byleth aren’t entirely sure whether or not this is just some dark magicks that the Empire has cooked up in a sad attempt at espionage, or if something has gone so horribly wrong in the future that they send their prickliest general back in time to whip them into shape.

Claude insists on tying him up which Felix grudgingly accepts, because of course this all seems a little far fetched - no one has ever heard of time travel magic...at this point in time anyways. And like everything else Felix does, it just makes them even more suspicious of him because the Felix they know would be hissing and spitting at them with all the fury of an angry wyvern if they even tried to touch him, much less restrain him.

Funnily enough, it’s his past self that manages to convince them that he’s the real deal.

“This is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.” Younger Felix crosses his arms and glares at his future self, as if his stare alone could dispel any illusionary magic with its withering intensity.

It’s a bit weird to be on the listening end of his scathing remarks rather than saying them. But technically he is saying them... or at least the past him is, so really is it any different?

“Well, unless you have a better idea, I think this is the best we’ve got for now.” Claude shrugs and runs a hand through his tousled hair for the millionth time that day. “If he really is you, then he should know a secret you’ve never told anyone, and you can confirm it.”

Byleth nods from her place next to the Alliance leader, “We can’t wait until Lysithea and the others find an answer in the library. It could take weeks before they can confirm that any of this is possible through magic.”

More like years, Felix thinks to himself. In his timeline, time travel magic is still a completely new thing. In fact, the only people who know anything about it are a select few that Dimitri, Byleth, Claude and Linheartd trust with their lives. The only reason he’s here now is because the green haired mage had somehow stumbled upon a rift in the flow of time while conducting some experiments. Fearing that this small bump could have dire repercussions to the past, it was decided that they would send someone back to Harpstring moon of that year to help along the events that were yet to unfold.

Between the people who knew and who were available, it ended up coming down to Felix or Sylvain.

Unanimously, they all voted for Felix. (”Hey! I’m totally trustworthy!” “We know that, Sylvain, but with your reputation for having a silver tongue, none of them will believe you.”)

And now here he was 12 years in the past, tied up to a chair in the Knights hall in front of the fireplace, patience running dangerously thin at the bickering that has been going on for hours.

“Fine,” his younger self grouses with a scowl fierce enough to make a grown man cower. “But he’s writing it down and none of you are allowed to stand close enough to read it.”

It’s a smart idea, really. And if Felix knows himself, then he knows that the quickest way to get to the end of this whole fiasco is to write down a secret his younger counterpart is too embarrassed to admit out loud.

Thankfully, Felix has plenty of those from that time.

From before things become official with Sylvain.

From before he becomes Felix Hugo Fraldarius-Gautier.

A mercifully short moment later, his hands are free and he’s rubbing at the tender muscles where the rope bit into his skin.

A small inkwell, quill, and piece of parchment are placed in front of him by a silent but wary Dedue and Felix nods in thanks before his younger self more or less shoves everyone back a good distance so they cannot read his secrets.

It is silent other than the occasional pop and crackle from the low fire. Hard, piercing Amber meets warm liquid Amber, neither willing to look away, one gaze filled with distrust and jaded bitterness, while the other watches with silent empathy and understanding.

Blame it on his husband’s bad influence, but Felix can’t help the growing desire to tease his younger self. (Which he knows is absolutely hypocritical because he hates being teased but Sylvain was right when he said it is just so easy.)

“How much do you want me to reveal?” Felix dips the tip of the quill in ink and pauses, the tip hovering over the parchment ready to spill secrets only the two of them know.

“...I’ll tell you when to stop.”

It’s a free pass to go wild, is what Felix hears.

There are so many things that he could write. Ranging from the priceless family heirloom he accidentally broke and hid when he was child all the way to some of his more embarrassing training mishaps - one of which involved him falling and stabbing himself on his own goddamn sword - but despite all of the memories that flash through his head, one in particular stands out the most.

For the second time that day, Felix curses his husband and his perverse influence before scrawling out:

Bedside table. Second drawer. Third notch - press hard to release the fake bottom.

Images of a very familiar flask of oil that has seen many restless nights flash across Felix’s mind. And if the red flush on his younger self’s face is anything to go by, he would bet everything he owned that he was also thinking the same thing.

A beat of silence. “Not enough?”

Felix is honestly a little impressed. He was sure that his secret sex drawer would be enough to mortify his younger self into believing him.

Fine then. He could bring out the heavy artillery.

The first time we realize we are in love with Sylvain is when we are 15 and figure out that the burning rage we feel every time he talks about his latest girlfriend is actually jealousy.

He pauses for a moment to look up at younger Felix. Receiving no response, he continues writing.

The first time we realize how absolutely fucked we are is the morning after the training session where Sylvain takes off his shirt and we dream about -

Ink splatters on the table and over his gloves as the parchment is unceremoniously wrenched away from him and immediately tossed into the fire.

“He’s real” are the only words the new Duke of Fraldarius manages to sputter out between the fingers hiding his burning face. The poor boy looks like he wants to spontaneously combust and also let the floor swallow him whole.

Felix almost feels bad. Almost.

----

The days following can only be described as incredibly odd as Felix wanders the familiar - yet different - grounds of Garreg Mach. He helps where he can with the chores and spends the remaining time either at the Training Grounds like usual, or just simply chatting with his friends of old.

A few times a week he will accompany the troops and assist them in their various missions eliminating bandits or Demonic beasts that have wandered too close to their base. Though he is older now, Felix has never slacked off in his training regimen, not even after the war ends, and his current skill and mastery of swords and Reason are more than enough to deal with these minor nuisances.

All in all, Felix is enjoying himself.

...Except for how much everyone keeps pestering him to reveal things about the future.

“Ooooh, do Claude and the professor finally hook up?” Hilda is leaning across the dining hall table with the biggest shit eating grin on her face, the sausage breakfast in front of her completely forgotten in favor of even juicier gossip.

Felix sighs for the umpteenth time that morning and cuts into his own plate with a bit more force than intended. “Hilda. For the last time, I can’t tell you anything specific in case it fucks up the future.”

“But you’ve already told Annette that she goes on to teach at the School of Sorcery and Mercedes opens up an orphanage!”

“Yes, and that’s because I want to make sure those things actually happen.”

“So what, you don’t want Mr. Leader Man and the Professor to finally knock boots?!”

To his right, Dimitri chokes on his toast at the mental image Hilda conjures.

Much to his relief (or dismay), Dorothea chooses this time to slide into the seat to his left along with Petra.

“Are we interrogating Future Felix again?” The Songstress doesn’t even bother hiding her mischievous glee as she eyes Felix the same way a predator would prey.

“No, we are not.” He glares at the former opera star, cursing the fact that his friends have already figured out that the years have more or less mellowed out his bark and that he has a LOT more patience before he actually bites.

“Aww, come on. It’s basically a breakfast tradition now! Nothing like a side of future gossip with my tea to get me going in the mornings.” Dorothea winks at him before a flash of flaming red near the food line catches both her and Felix’s attention.

“Hey Sylvain! Felix! Come sit with us.” She waves them over and nudges Petra to scoot over to make room.

“Is there anything you guys want to know about the future?” the pink haired Great Knight asks as soon as the pair are seated.

“Oh tons,” Sylvain winks as he picks up his fork and twirls it loosely in his hands. “But the real question is if Future Fe over there will actually answer them.”

Felix lets out a humorless snort. As if he would.

He makes a point to actively avoid his younger self as much as possible because he isn’t sure if it will affect his timeline in any way. Unfortunately, that also means that he has to avoid Sylvain.

Seriously, how did he never realize that they were basically joined at the hip? Where one went, the other was never very far.

It was a fucking miracle that no one had figured out his lifelong crush on Sylvain considering how much time they spent in each other’s company.

But then again, considering everyone’s surprise at how many of them ended up paired off after the war... maybe they were all just that blind. Or stupid.

Thank the Goddess they were all blind and stupid.

Felix manages to fend off most of their prying inquiries, snapping only a few times at Hilda and Dorothea who don’t know when to stop, but everything truly goes to hell in a handbasket when Mercedes comes by asking the group if there is any equipment or armor that needs cleaning since she’s on duty this week.

“Oh, yes actually.” Felix seizes this opportunity and begins pulling off his gloves to hand to the Bishop. “I need the ink stains removed from my gloves. I never managed to find time to properly clean them since the first night I arrived.”

He isn’t aware that he has done anything wrong until the table goes silent and everyone is staring at him, or rather his hand, with a mixture of disbelief, shock, pleasant smugness, and overall general bewilderment.

“What are you all...” His question trails off when he realizes that his wedding ring - the one that he always wears under his gloves - is now out in the open, the plain obsidian band glittering innocently in the morning sunlight filtering through the windows.

“You’re... married?!”

Oh fuck.

----

“So who’s the lucky girl?”

You like Annie. Don’t murder Annie.

Felix swings his training sword against the practice dummy and lands a clean diagonal hit.

“Ohhh, I bet it’s some noble girl from the Kingdom.”

You like Thea’s opera shows. If you kill her now, you won’t be able to see them after the war.

Stab. Feint. Slash.

“No, Felix doesn’t care for dainty noble girls who don’t know how to fight...”

Thank the Goddess Ingrid is still reliable as ever.

“Maybe it’s a guy?”

Nevermind. Ingrid is the devil.

Duck. Side step into a zig zag pattern approach. Upwards slash.

“It’s... forgive me if I am overstepping, but I am happy that you have found happiness in the future, Felix.”

Don’t kill your king. Regicide is a crime.

Retreat backwards. Dash in for the final blow.

“Yeah! Congrats Felix on finally getting laid!”

It’s only when Felix snaps his training sword in half at the blue haired warrior’s comment that his sword training session turns into a brawl training session.

----

The Fraldarius Duke has never been more relieved to receive a call to action than when Byleth rushes in not long after Future Felix gives Caspar a shiny new black eye.

“Bandits. In the sealed forest. Civilian involved. Gates, now.” is all the warning they get before she is sweeping out the training room doors, no doubt going to retrieve her own equipment.

After 5 years of being at war, they are all seasoned soldiers and as such, it doesn’t take them very long before they are rushing towards the site of the battle.

They have foregone the usual battalions in favor of only deploying their former classmates, allowing them to move much quicker through the dense vegetation.

Up ahead, they can hear low voices talking and what sounds like muffled sobbing. Byleth signals them to slow down and get into position - it’s one of their usual strategies: approach undetected, surround the enemy, and then close in to eliminate.

It isn't until they get close enough to hear the sobbing more clearly that Felix feels his heart leap up his throat.

He knows that sound. He’s heard it a million times over the past 6 years at all times of the day.

Please Goddess, he prays as he creeps closer with more urgency, ignoring Claude’s alarmed look, let me be wrong.

Of course he isn’t.

Raw panic seizes his chest as he recognizes the little girl with an ornate sword strapped to her back cornered under the jagged overhang of a large rock, her long wavy hair a crimson beacon amongst a sea of green and brown, and Felix is running before he can even formulate a plan.

“Come on, little girl... just give us the sword and we’ll let you go,”

“N-no! Papa gave m-me this sword!”

“Well then I hope you’re ready to die-”

Electricity crackles through the air and his body falls to the ground before he can finish his threat.

“Sophie!”

Large, watery honey gold eyes lock onto his and suddenly the battlefield narrows. For one agonizingly long heartbeat, Felix watches the little delicate, red nose he loves so much scrunch up, and he can already hear the tearful wail that comes next.

“PAPA!”

Then, all hell breaks loose.

---

There were very few of them that could say they had the privilege of watching the Felix from the future fight prior to the current battle. Felix - the younger Felix of this timeline - is not one of them.

However, as he watches his older self weave through the bandits like liquid steel, mercilessly cutting them down with cold rage, he cannot help but compare it to his current skill level.

He wonders how many more battles he will have to go through before he reaches that level of deadly grace.

“Watch your left!” Sylvain shouts at him from somewhere to his right and Felix grunts as he parries a hard downward strike of an axe.

His feet flow through footwork long ingrained in his mind and in the next moment, he has slipped past the bandit’s strike range and shoves his sword through his chest.

A clean, quick kill.

Felix is actually rather grateful for the distraction of a battle. But despite the battle cries and sounds of metal on metal clashing around him, he still cannot silence the one thought he’s sure is going through everyone’s mind.

He has a daughter.

He has a daughter in the future. A freaking daughter.

A little girl whose hair is unmistakably the same obnoxiously beautiful colour as those of the Gautier lineage.

Who in the actual fuck does he marry?!

The question rings in his head over and over again as he fells enemy after enemy, and by the end of the battle, he still has not found reprieve from the shock that he is grappling with in his mind.

Felix is not aware that he is unconsciously searching for familiar golden brown eyes before the knot in his chest dissolves when he spots Sylvain cleaning his lance off to the side.

But just as quickly as that knot disappears, another one takes its place.

Because as much as he loves Sylvain with all his heart, there’s no way that even if by some miracle they get married in the future that they can have a child together.

Which means that either Felix has married a distant cousin of Sylvain’s or Sylvain has a daughter that Felix somehow ends up taking care of.

And since Felix knows that he would never be able to love or marry anyone other than his childhood best friend...

...that leaves him with a very bitter pill to swallow.

----

“Papa!”

Sophie is wearing her favourite teal dress with the little swords embroidered on the hem, and even though it is now caked entirely in mud, Felix cannot bring himself to care as he falls to his knees and cradles his daughter tightly to his chest.

“Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” Calloused fingers fruitlessly brush away the steady stream of tears on Sophie’s blotchy cheeks, the salt water clearing some of the mud away as Felix scans for any injuries.

She shakes her head twice and continues to sob into his chest and he continues to hold her while stroking her hair gently in gentle, calming caresses. Even after this whole fiasco, Sophie’s long waves somehow look as beautiful as ever and a distant part of Felix’s brain wonders if it’s just some inherited Gautier genetic to always looks good no matter what.

“Felix! Goddess, who is that? Is she okay?” Ashe runs up to him, Mercedes and Ingrid not far behind him with equal looks of concern in their expressions.

Felix shakes his head, “I’ll answer questions later. Mercie, can you take a look over her right now and make sure she has no injuries? she says she’s okay but she’s probably still high on adrenaline.”

It is the first time in Mercedes’ life that she has seen Felix look this concerned for another person’s well being and she’s already reaching out with warm white magic even as she nods, but as soon as her hand makes contact, Sophie flinches further into Felix as if burned.

“Sophie. Sophie, it’s alright. You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

It takes a little bit more coaxing before she pulls away far enough to look at him.

“Hey,” Felix nudges her temple gently with his nose. “It’s alright. You remember Auntie Mercie, don’t you? Auntie Mercie would never hurt you. She just wants to make sure you’re not hurt, okay?”

If Mercedes has any reaction to being called Auntie, Felix is thankful that she does not outwardly show it.

“It’s okay, Sophie.” The healer flashes her a soft smile. “I promise this won’t hurt a bit!”

It’s only when Mercedes manages to start her healing spell that Felix lets the tension and fear seep out of his body.

There are so many questions clamoring around in his head, like how in the world is she here in the past and where the hell is his husband who is supposed to be watching her in his absence, but all of that will have to wait until they return to the monastery.

And, if the matching strangled, heart-broken looks on his younger self and Sylvain are anything to go off of, he’s also going to have to reveal a little more than planned if he wants to make sure that he still gets to marry the love of his life.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Sorry that the ending seems a bit rushed. I’ve been working on this for 5 hours now and I just want to post it and go to bed (it’s 3AM). I promise I’ll come back to make some edits later!

Next Chapter

Masterlist

#sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #SylVix #felix x sylvain #fire emblem 3 houses #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #byleth eisner #dimitri blaiddyd #blue lions #golden deer #azure moon #verdant wind #AU #alternate universe #alternate timeline #time travel #future felix #original character

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onewomancitadel · 3 years ago

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Don’t know about the paired shipping tbh. Jaune only has a few possible ships by endgame

-Weiss

-Ruby

-Pyrrha (coming back somehow )

-Cinder

-Neo

These are the possible gals he’ll get. I’ve seen theories and claims for every single one of these, admittedly Cinder has the most subtext, Pyrrha is mostly a theory, Ruby is about how close they are, Neo is about how he can help her and both of them having lost their partners, and Weiss because he used to like her and could get comfort cause of the penny thing. (But no, Jaune didn’t unlock his semblance with Weiss. It was already unlocked, it was just fully realized with Weiss, XD)

For now we can’t really do anything. As for Jaune forgiving cinder; well everyone did forgive emerald in like a single fucking episode even though emerald literally killed penny, caused massive amounts of issues, etc. So If they can forgive emerald in one fucking episode and Neo will probably get redemption after all the shit she’s done- then Cinder getting redeemed over the course of a few episodes is 100000% without a shadow of the doubt possible if they wanted to do it lol. At this point if Cinder does get redeemed then I *do* think we will be getting Knightfall.

This is very true.

Out of all of them, Neo is the one I don't understand - I see it not so infrequently? I guess because Neo is ostensibly a cult favourite, not knocking on that. I'm just thankful there's a character who's also 4'10" so I know exaaaaaactly where my eye-line is with Cinder.

Pyrrha, too, though if she did come back it would be in a very perverse Oz-like scenario and it would have to be reverted.

Ruby and Jaune don't share enough intertextuality, and RG is also structurally obvious. Also, I think their friendship is too good - like it is sincerely just cute and involves support. It doesn't actually have any tangible chemistry, though.

Weiss is the only other character on this list I can see working, again. I mean, I hate it, I loathe it, and I don't find anything interesting about it and I swear to fucking God if I have to sit through ANOTHER friends to lovers ship I'm going to start gnawing on something---

not that I think I'm unique or special cuz I like ETL but if we have to retread the SAME ground of soft uwu frends realising their feelinges for each other--- anyway.

soz not soz but Jaune/Cinder is the best fucking ship and I'm tired of pretending it isn't.

On the note of forgiveness - forgiveness, or lack thereof, is a very important theme in the show, coming back from horrible things you've done - like Ironwood's descent is partly so tragic because he could have turned it around and people would have forgiven him. He WAS turning it around. Even as early as V2 when we were aware of his nature and Qrow being so critical of him in V3, everybody was certain well, he's a big military man who's very heroic so of course he'll do the right thing - people either overlooked what he did and said or were ready, anyway, for him to do the right thing. Even team RWBY were.

Emerald isn't really forgiven 'that' quickly - I mean, I personally held nothing against her the whole time she's been on the fucking show XDDDD - and she also commits a huge, huge amount to helping them. Like, they confront SALEM. She SAVES Oscar. She SAVES Penny! She literally appears to Ironwood as Penny, in a deeply ironic act which means PENNY CAN GO BE FREED. She helps people get to Vacuo! She will lead them through the desert! Girl is so fucking heroic I absolutely love her!

There will probably be personal questions explored in the series - how much do you really want this, do you really feel free with us, yeah you did bad things - but like, partly the reason Emerald was with the bad guys so long is because once she's free she is so good.

I absolutely adore Emerald, and I think people tend to assume if you like Cinder then you must not like Emerald for whatever reason? you can only have one naughty villain at a time? Nah no thank you I love Emerald.

So yeah, I guess you're right, Emerald's turncoat is pretty promising for Cinder. But I was also used to Cinder hate for a long time - even now - and people still being sad over Pyrrha's death, so who nose.

I do think it would be very, very powerful is Cinder joined the good guys and it was yeah, a little complicated, but also like - you're with us now. We won't turn you away or treat you poorly the way Salem's lot did. That would just be repeating their mistakes. Ruby's heart is big, even hurt.

Thanks again for your ask cuz this is very interesting to talk about and Knightfall is my OTP and I wish people talked to me about it all day lol. Well, allowing time to write fanfic, of course.

#seraphina's asks #user: redhoodhungergames #nonsense about other ships I don't like #you can use that to block when WK comes up #that being said Neo in frame with Jaune is funny because I'm like *sweats*#I have a crush on both Cinder and Jaune #sigh #stirring the pot

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it-will-not-last-the-night · 5 years ago

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PQ2-Persona 3 Characters

I play this game slowly for a number of reasons: (1) I like drawing games out because I enjoy them more that way and (2) I played it intermittently, put it down when FE3H came out, then picked it up again, then got DLC for TW3K and put it down again etc. etc. I find it an easy game to put down and get back into.

However, I am now at the end, only Enlil remains and the Velvet Rangers. Since I want to complete the game fully I’m now doing the monotonous and boring task of farming the Reaper to get to Lv 89 with Ren so I can Wild Growth my core party to his Level, get Huang Di, and finish off the Velvet Rangers. Seriously though, who thought I’d reach a point where I’m bullying the poor Reaper and getting bored of the fight? He doesn’t even get me halfway to a full level now!

Anyway. So, with the end approaching, I thought I’d do for the P3 cast what I did for the P4 cast. I decided in the end to actually not watch/read anything about P3 or P4 till I finish PQ2, to form opinions based around it purely from PQ2, then once I’m done with it I’ll go watch LP’s of P3 and P4 to see how wrong (or right!) I got things.

Without further ado my feelings towards the P3 cast solely as they are presented in PQ2:

Exceptions:

I’m starting us off with exceptions. What are exceptions? Exceptions are characters who, for whatever reason, I feel their are circumstances that make them difficult for me to really discuss as a fully-fleshed character. They aren’t necessarily bad, but something about them means I don’t really see them as a fully rounded or developed character like the rest.

P3 Protagonist: Like the P4 Protagonist and Ren I just struggle to form any feelings or attachments to this character. I’ve said before I *suck* at self-insertion. I just do. In FE3H my least favourite character is Byleth, wish I could get rid of them, as I find the relationships between characters with more detailed and fleshed out characteristics and dialogue far more interesting. The P3 Protagonist isn’t bad but, compared to the rest, just feels shallow and uninteresting. He also shares the same problem as all four Protagonists in that I am sick and tired of how much their own teams have to constantly shill them like they’re the greatest thing ever. Ugh. It’s the most annoying thing to me about these self-insert characters, everyone has to stop every ten minutes to remind the player how they’re better than everyone and worship the ground they walk on. I hate it. Anyway; so, yeah, ultimately I find the P3 Protagonist, like Ren and the P4 Protagonist, just not as fully developed or realized in PQ2, and so see them as an exception.

Koromaru: He’s a dog. He’s cute, fun, a great mascot, but he doesn’t have detailed characteristics or interesting personality and dynamics with the other members. But he’s a dog, so, that’s not strange. So I see this as an exception.

Favourite:

These are the P3 Characters who I enjoyed most of all in PQ2.

P3 Female Protagonist: So can someone explain to me why the creators decided to give the Female Protagonist alone a detailed personality and demeanour? Not to mention something like double the amount of spoken dialogue as the other protagonists? Unlike Ren and the other two male Protagonists who barely say much at all and are difficult to define personality-wise beyond ‘cool, loved by all, sometimes make sarcastic remarks’ the Female Protagonist is heavily fleshed out: she’s an energetic and over-enthusiastic type, the ‘charge in head’s first’ type who doesn’t show much in the way of the stoic ‘cool’ calm of the others, and is very effusive and evocative in her mannerisms. She’s dealing with an internal feeling of isolation and inferiority, which she tries to hide from others, and is highly sociable in her engagement with her peers. She was a lot of fun and makes a big impact early with her ‘let me dress up as a policewoman and then karate chop this guard out cold’ routine. Her interactions with Futaba early on are great, almost like an older siser, although sadly those do taper off. Junpei and Yukari have quite good interactions with her as well, the most consistent people involved in her ‘am I out of place’ feelings, and I enjoyed that. I was surprised how there is so little interaction between her and her male counterpart though, would have thought that would be a good well of inspiration.

Mitsuru: So what I love about Mitsuru is that she and Makoto are not just clones of each other. With Mitsuru also being a ‘older, colder, intelligent, authoritative’ figure I feared that the two would be very similar. But they aren’t. Mitsuru is vastly more secure in herself and confident than Makoto, who still has severe issues with her self-esteem. Indeed Mitsuru is actually kind of awesome in how confident she is. Similarly whilst Makoto is far more an advisor Mitsuru, quite honestly, comes across as if actually SHE leads the P3 cast and the protagonists are just their trump cards. Mitsuru almost always calls every shot for her team and makes the decisions, with their own respective protagonists usually just providing power. I do also enjoy that Mitsuru seems not to have the ‘I’m smart so the stupid member of our team I will always harass’ trait as her critiques of Junpei tend to purely focus on him not taking their situation to seriously and never go to the point of insulting his intelligence as Morganna does with Ryuji in the vanilla game and Royal. I also really liked Mitsuru’s interactions with Junpei. I know he has a girlfriend, he says so in the game, but I see nothing of her so I’d be lying if I didn’t say I somewhat ship the two after her nervousness inviting him to have tea with her and his desperation to protect her when he found out how hard she was trying to get along with him.

Junpei: Junpei has one thing that Ryuji and Yosuke do not have: confidence. Though Ryuji and Yosuke both front confidence it’s often incredibly easy to see the weak points in their facade and to deflate them. Junpei is able to far better stand his ground even when he’s being belittled. He is definitely more reckless than the two as a result, confidence is a double-edged sword, but he’s learned better than them the lesson of feeling good about himself. I do love how Ren can consistently support his ‘Greatest Detective Ever’ declaration and basically took every chance to do so. He luckily seems to lack any of the perversion tendencies, although as I’ve said in PQ2 the same is true of basically everyone, although I do sorta wish we got a bit more on his girlfriend if she’s so important to him. I get because she won’t appear and you won’t see her the game doesn’t want to waste time on a character we learn nothing about, but at certain points it felt off that Junpei doesn’t comment on her at all.

Interesting:

These are characters I found interesting, easily as interesting as the ones above, but for personal reasons just don’t like quite as much.

Yukari: Oh boy, Yukari. Let’s start with my problem with her before I move on to why I find her so interesting. Put simply Yukari is mean. Whilst with both Ryuji and Yosuke I was pleased to see that despite being the ‘bro’ characters, PQ2 avoided constantly haranguing on them. Not so for Yukari and Junpei, yeesh! Junpei can barely open his mouth without Yukari insulting him, sometimes really rather severely. My problem is that she often insults Junpei just cause he’s too boisterous, or confident. It just gets...well it gets like Ryuji in the vanilla game or Royal, it feels mean-spirited, particularly since Junpei never reacts by laughing or quipping back, but always by just deflating and sorta whimpering. I didn’t like it. With that said Yukari is still a very interesting character too me because she has an incredibly well-defined character. She is intelligent, emotionally so, perceptive to other’s feelings and has a very sharp wit and tongue, both to put down others and help them. Her interactions with the P3 Female Protagonist are interesting and she is often very insightful actually. I will also confess, to a slight extent, the sheer extent of her nastiness towards Junpei did make me, somewhat, feel as if the two must at least be close, they rarely ever say anything without the other chiming in, so I can see a bit of myself shipping it...but as a terrible mistake the two swear to never tell anyone else and eventually realize is just overall unhealthy for them.

Ken: Ken plays a pretty well-worn archetype and he plays it fine: the earnest young boy with an edge, wise-beyond-his-years in some senses, but wet-behind-the-ears in others, with a strong hero complex tainted by a bit of an extreme edge. Ken is interesting but less fun to me just because he is somewhat predictable in the role he fulfills, which just isn’t my personal preference. I think he has amazing chemistry, and potential, with Akechi and Futaba and wish he got to interact more with both. His interactions with Ryuji, Ann and Morganna in their Special Ticket together is also absolutely great and again I wish him and Ryuji had more consistent interaction over the course of the game. But a lot of Ken’s interactions come down to Koromaru, which is fine, just not exactly thrilling. I do think Ken is adorable though, he’s very well-meaning and clearly very hard-working, and I’m a bit surprised that some more of the compassionate PTs, such as Ann, don’t actually regularly comment on or find him endearing.

Aigis: So I feel like Aigis can come across to players of PQ2 as uncomplicated but that’s only at a surface glance. The thing with Aigis is that she clearly HAS already overcome her primary character conflict, her feelings about being an artificial construct and the meaning of her existence. Throughout the third dungeon she expounds heavily on the conclusions she’s already come too. For many a character completing their character arc becomes boring, but not for me. I found Aigis fascinating and LOVED a robot who, rather than repeating the old and tired song-and-dance of ‘do I feel? do I will?’ already has her answers and also avoids the cliche of ‘robots have no emotions’ by, in her own way, being very emotional.

Fuuka: I enjoyed Fuuka quite a bit, and find her character a nice counterpart to Rise’s and Futaba’s. Although on the surface she seems to be the ‘shy, shrinking violet’ style of character this isn’t really true. She’s soft-spoken, by comparison to most, yes, but she’s not really shy. What she is, is the more calm and analytical of the three Navigators, less prone to exuberant emotional outbursts, but at the same time clearly more innately compassionate than the other two who are more prone to teasing or mocking. I felt her established interest in technology and mechanisms wasn’t integrated as fully as it could have been, alas perhaps because Futaba seemed to occupy more of that role, but did find that, if you look closely, Fuuka actually does offer some of the best advice to Hikari, and is consistently, along with Ryuji and Futaba, Hikari’s most verbal and ardent supporter and defender.

Uninteresting:

First, note, this does not mean I dislike the characters, I like them all, but these are characters who, in PQ2, I found the least interesting.

Akihiko: I feel so bad for him. So PQ2 really does avoid, for the most part, reducing it’s characters just to gags but Akihiko, man, they really do that with him. He basically only ever says one of two things: (1) I want to fight X (2) Protein-joke. It gets...old. I feel sorry for him because I feel he has potential there but the game seems determined to never explore it. He does have a VERY fun interaction with Chie and Makoto, all three I enjoyed and I can easily see Akihiko as Chie’s mentor and teacher, the two blend together well and have fun chemistry. His interactions with Makoto are also nice since it reveals his deepest character, as he is the one who tells Makoto to acknowledge herself more and sometimes realize that there is more to existence than regimented preparation. I enjoyed his chaotic energy, despite seeming a bit like a leader and an authority figure he’s actually very chaotic and impulsive, living in a more ‘go as the current takes you’ way which makes him adaptable and reactive. Now if only they’d used that for more than protein-related jokes.

Shinjiro: Poor Shinjiro feels to me like he fell into the trap Kanji avoided. His main problem is just he spends so much time brooding and making tiny statements that we don’t get a feel for him. His other problem is that his most consistent dialogue partner is Akihiko and every single one of their conversations, almost, breaks down into: Akihiko says something about protein or fighting, Shinjiro calls him dumb, repeat. Shinjiro clearly has wisdom and common sense, but he seems to restrain himself from actually imparting it compared to the likes of Makoto, Haru, Ryuji, Naoto or Akechi. The result is he makes less of an impact because he’s the character of the main cast who most visibly feels like he’s withholding himself from the group. He’s like Akechi but more so. Akechi also, in the game, can come across as if he’s minimizing his interactions, but he doesn’t do it quite as much as Shinjiro.

#pq2 #persona 3

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girlmeetsliv3 · 5 years ago

Text

Inferno I

Kim Namjoon x reader ; Various other pairings

Warning: The following story contains mentions of violence, drugs, smut, anxiety, manipulation, abuse, and vivid descriptions of abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this series will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

Word Count: 4k

*Be warned the keep reading link isn't working, I'll try to fix it when I can*

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The sound of Justin Townes Earl voice bled through the cheap paper-thin walls in the motel's bathroom. It wasn’t the nicest place ever, but it was the only that did reservations in cash and didn’t ask for identification. Convenience always won over comfort. Boxes of hair dye, razors, and wax were scattered across the grimy tiled floor. Your hair was beginning to itch, eyes watering as the door and window were both closed; you sucked it up not wanting to risk it. When at last the bleach had settled you rinsed it off, conditioning it deeply to try and stop it from being totally ruined. Glancing in the mirror, you barely recognized yourself, but that was the entire point wasn’t it? To look so unrecognizable that no one would dare question that you are who you say you are, or that anyone would notice the similarities. A loud banging on the door startled you, instinctively you ran out the bathroom and lunged for the Ruger hidden underneath your bag, pointing it at the door. Cautiously, you approached the door making sure to check through the peephole to see who it could be. “Seriously?!” You let out a frustrated sigh, letting the gun drop to your side and ripping open the door. “What the fuck is your problem, Kun?” The lanky tall man walked quickly into the apartment, a slight bulge under his sweater which let you know he kept his promise. “I wanted to make sure you knew it was me or heard me considering your neighbor is blasting some god-awful music.” He looked around the room with clear disgust evident on his face, before turning back towards you. “Wait did you call me Kun? You know I fucking hate that name.” He sounded like a whiny child, one would never guess he was one of the tops in the game. “Bambam is a stupid name. I can’t believe people take you seriously with that name.” Checking once more to make sure, no one had seen him come in you shut the door.

“They take it more seriously than Kunpimook. Whatever, I’m not here for that. I’m here for this.” He reached under his shirt, pulling out a brown paper bag containing everything that you needed for this plan to work. Grabbing it, you ripped the bag open seeing several documents facing back at you: passport, licenses, school diploma’s, and two identification cards. “Thank you, seriously.” Bambam stared at you with fear and worry evident in his wide eyes. “Y/n…are you absolutely sure you want to do this? This isn’t vandalizing a car or a simple hit job.” You understood his concerns, you also knew that he wasn’t only motivated by what might happen to you. But how it could affect him if you were caught. Kim Namjoon was not a forgiving man. “I know. It may not look like I’ve got this under control, but I do.” He didn’t look assured by your words, but nothing you said would fix that. “Listen, I have to do this. For my family, for me, for him –” Bambam interrupted you with fervor in his voice, “It’s been a year. Nothing that you do will bring him back, okay? Revenge is pointless. It’s like consuming a poison and expecting the other person to die.” His chest was rapidly moving up and down, you feared an anxiety attack might occur, but he quickly regained control over himself. In that moment you recalled when the two of you were kids: Bambam always got panic attacks over the silliest things and you were always there to help him through it. Until you weren’t. “Namjoon killed him, for retaliation. For believing that he had done something wrong, when it all ended up being a mistake. And how did he remedy it? By killing everyone in my family in a tragic accident.” You had long stopped crying over the event, tear ducts completely dried after a year. However, your heart still ached painfully whenever the subject was brought up.

Bambam wasn’t there when it happened. He only found you later through a combination of his intelligence and sheer luck. No one outside your immediate family, knew about the island. It had been the only place you could lay low whilst, the rest of the world – especially Jiong Bul Pa – celebrated your misery. “I know where I end up by the end of this, but as long as I get to bring down Kim Namjoon with me. It’ll all be worth it.” There was an emptiness in your eyes that Bambam had never seen before, gone was the joy and innocence that had always surrounded you. The smile lines around your cheeks quickly ceasing to exist and being replaced by harsh scowls. Bambam placed his hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Good luck. God knows you’re going to need it if you plan to beat the devil at his own game.” With that he walked out of the motel room leaving you to finish erasing all that was left of the old you. When you had finally managed to scrub down the entire room and gathered all your stuff it dawned on you that the last song had finished. The deep melodic tone of a woman singing now echoing along the hallways. As you closed the door, you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “How fitting.”

The strip club smelt of a strong combination of expensive liquor, drugs, and sex. These days the walls had been torn down in an often-divided side. While some women still worked the poles, the men paraded themselves on the floor. In an effort to make everything more “discrete” or so the owner had said. Jimin didn’t particularly care about one or the other, his entire focus was on the velvet doors observing anxiously who came in and out. He saw the regulars, the infrequent, and the newcomers. There was no way for him to remember all their faces, but one could tell by the way they walked and held themselves. Those who puffed out their chest and had insatiable thirst in their eyes were obviously new, that kind of behavior wasn’t tolerated in Purgatorio; they would likely end up kicked out or beaten to a bloody pulp by the end of the night. Not that it bothered him, those men were always pigs who saw him and those he worked with as nothing but a Kleenex tissue. Jimin had long been desensitized to violence – he had his grandfather to thank for that. Plus, life as a “pleasure worker” as the manager dubbed it required a certain level of apathy towards violence and those on the receiving end of it. If the world was perfect, that none of this would happen. Girls wouldn’t have to fake their age to make ends meet or be exploited by their boyfriends. Boys wouldn’t have to turn to crime to prove their manliness or to survive hostile environments. If the world was perfect, Jimin wouldn’t have a sore ass from sitting on a leather cushion waiting for his father’s murdered to step through the strip club’s doors. ‘Everything in life has a purpose’ is what he had been taught from a young age. ‘God has a greater plan for all us.’ He often wondered if that was just bullshit the old man spat in his ear to make Jimin go along with his plans. Probably.

The clock above him read twelve thirteen am, he wasn’t going to show. Jimin let out an exasperated sigh as he slouched forward onto the bar. He strongly longed for something to relax him, but he long learned the consequences of not being fully present at his job. Letting his body slip off the stool, he headed for the backstage area where his bag was before going out the backdoor to head home. His grandfather had told him, that the kid would be there only for him to not show up. Knowing the old man, his dementia is probably caused him to confuse the dates. It was a rumor that his grandfather had gotten from a ‘trusted source’ at this point, he wasn’t sure if the trusted source was messing with his grandfather; or his grandfather with him. Opening the large metal door and stepping out, Jimin was greeted with the sight of some frats completely doped out. Fuck. By the time, he turned around the door had closed shut alerting the men that he was there. “Well, look here it’s a pretty boy.” Jimin hated frats. Hated how their money led them to believe they were above everyone. Hated how their aggressiveness peaked when doped out. Mostly he hated how they had always picked on him – especially because of how he looked. “Aw come on pretty boy. Look at me.” He turned around in spite of every bone in his being telling him not to. The man was nothing special, but he could easily kill Jimin if he really wanted. When he tried to step around the man, he was blocked. The frats friends found this hilarious apparently as they fell into a roar of laughter.

“Come on pretty boy. How much for a night?” Jimin’s eyes widened in fear. There was a lot he could handle, but he knew what he couldn’t. The frat laughed at the absolute terror in his eyes. Grabbing him by the sides and pushing him against the metal door, “Do I have to pay upfront or can I do it after?” The man behind him kept laughing, encouraging him on with perverse words and phrases. Jimin’s eyes were beginning to water and a part of him long to close his eyes in fear of what was to come. If he had Jimin wouldn’t have seen the bullet pierce through the frat’s head and come out the other side; parts of his brain exiting as well. Jimin was frozen in shock as he saw several goons surround the frat’s friends and beat them all. He had to move. Needed to move. However, his motor functions were still blocked by fear – by instinct. Only when he heard a voice and felt the warm touch of a hand on his chin, was he able to regain control over himself. “Are you alright?” He was everything Jimin had expected and not at the same time. His hair had grown, dark tussles framing his perfectly carved out features. Jeon Jungkook looked like an angel even under the dim lighting of the alleyway, but the man in front of you shared more with the devil than he did god. All the distraught Jimin had felt slipped away the longer he stared at the man in front of him. Remember your purpose. The mask was on and Jimin stepped away from Jungkook, ready to begin the long game that would end in him sacrificing his queen in order to kill the king. “It takes a lot more than that to shake me up, darling.” He gave a soft smile before, glancing down at the corpse on his feet. “Although I do ask that next time you want to play hero. Maybe don’t shoot the villain’s brains out right in front of the hostage.” Jimin stepped over the corpse before walking past Jungkook who stood stoically, clearly not expecting that response.

When Jimin was a few feet away, he heard a small chuckle leave the other man’s lips. “I thought damsels were much more grateful towards their saviors.” He was teasing him. So be it. Jimin turned around, “Such a pity that I ain’t one. Though I’m sure any of the girls inside would die to have you fawn over them.” Jimin took great pleasure in turning back around and walking away, knowing that once he did Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t be able to resist. There was a little hip in his step as he crossed down two blocks, before getting into the car waiting for him. His grandfather calling him the second he did. “Did you sleep with him?” The old man rasped through the phone. “I did one better. Now all that’s left is for him to fall in love with me.”

“What is this monstrosity?!” Your hair dresser, whose name you had come to learn was Mark, exclaimed as he toyed with your hair. “My last hairdresser said she could take me from red to blonde. It’s a miracle I didn’t go from red to bald.” The rehearsed lie slipped from you with ease. Mark’s eyes widened, “You can say that again. Don’t worry I can fix it.” Mark giggled before leaning over to whisper in your ear, “You’ll walk out the prettiest girl here.” His bubbliness was contagious – even if a part of it was an act. You waited for the inevitable questioning that was sure to begin. The salon you had chosen to come to wasn’t random. It was one of the many properties under Jiong Bul Pa management. The higher ups often came here for a fresh cut or a happy ending massage; sometimes both. You had been studying the men from afar your entire life, only needing to weaponize the information now. You had been escorted to the washing station where a facial had been done, as your hair was conditioned. Now back in your seat, it was sure to begin. Mark began to slowly hum to himself as he prepared his tools. “So, what brings a girl like you here?” There it was. Mark’s eyes met yours through the mirror, that gleam in his eyes let you know he was paying a lot more attention than one might assume. “Whatever it is that brings people to the city. Opportunities, fortune, fame, even love.” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to be coy. Mark quirked his eyebrow, “You don’t look like the hopeless romantic type.” You shook your head, “I’m not trust me. I do believe everything happens for a reason though.” He seemed to agree with your statement. The two of you switched topics onto more rudimentary things, common small talk that was probably to get you to put your guard down.

If there was one thing you would agree on, was that Mark was a genius. “I’m speechless.” You said as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your mind fading towards the last time your hair had been cut that short. You must’ve been six or seven when – “I told you I was good.” Mark snapped you out of your daydream, secretly you were thankful. You couldn’t afford to dwell on the past when it would only hinder your future. Mark was leaning forward, eying down your figure with a smirk on his face. “Where are you staying?” You didn’t like the look in his eyes, but you weren’t exactly in a position where you could refuse. “I’m at Lotte down by Myeongdong.” Mark grimaced, “That pretentious place?! Well whatever, my friends and I are going out for drinks tomorrow at a new club that just opened. Join us.” Mark didn’t seem to be particularly high on the ladder, but you had heard that he was the best hairdresser in town. That had to have some type of merit. “I’d love to.” The two of you shared your details and you left the salon, with a game plan forming inside your head.

“What do you know about Kunpimook Bhuwakul?” Seokjin stopped sipping on his whiskey to glance over the rim at his long-time best friend and boss. “He was born in Thailand, raised here. Professionally known as Bambam. He’s the best when it comes to identities and falsifying documents. Likes to lay on the low, uses technology for his work but you’ll never find a trace of him online.” Seokjin was positive Namjoon already knew all this, but the man often liked to test him. Keep him on his toes. “Why?” If Namjoon needed something like documents, he had people who could do it. They might not be as fool proof as Bambam’s but they could get the job done. “Bo’s daughter wants the wedding to take place in Bali. I can’t send Jungkook over the pacific with his passport without risking him getting arrested or worse.” Namjoon rubbed the area between his brows, muttering about what a pain this was. Seokjin had never understood the need to marry Jungkook off, he was already the selected heir – no one dared question it. If Namjoon was the king, then Jungkook was the brat prince that everyone was forced to bow down to. “I can get some of our men to procure the documents.” Namjoon chuckled, “As if they wouldn’t shoot the plane down the second, they knew he was there.” Seokjin couldn’t disagree. Jungkook wasn’t liked by most of Jiong Bul Pa, but he didn’t need to be: he was feared. That’s the reason no one dared to object or speak badly of him, it’s said that those who did…well dead men and all that.

Namjoon leaned back on the couch, as he glanced at his watch. “When’s my next meeting?” He longed for a hot shower and to fall into bed. The engagement was a pain in the neck and he would have never agreed if securing such an alliance didn’t give him large stake in the most important company in the country. “At ten. You’re heading down to Lotte at Myeongdong and meeting Mr. Il Seung.” Namjoon laughed as he thought of the pathetic man and his big mouth. “Is it all set up?” Seokjin smirked, “Perfectly. There’s no way he’ll make it.” A wicked smile spread through Namjoon’s lips. “Well then, I must be sure to go. You know so that the blame won’t fall on me.” The two men shared a look before Seokjin excused himself from the penthouse, allowing Namjoon to prepare for his meeting. In the elevator ride his phone vibrated in his pocket, scooping it out Seokjin was greeted by a proacative photo and a text. Which caused him to genuinely laugh as he read it.

Unknown: Miss me? I miss you <3

It wouldn’t do him any favors to continue his rendezvous with Bo Lilith. She wasn’t particularly spectacular in bed, nor was she that pretty. Lilith was also Jungkook’s fiancé but that bothered him even less. He would never admit that he slept with her out of spite, when Jungkook had joked about him being too effeminate while drunk. That was below someone of his stature. The elevator finally opened on his floor and Seokjin stepped out, making sure to leave his shoes by the entrance. As soon as the door opened, he was tackled onto the wall and kissed passionately. “T-taehyung s-stop.” The other man didn’t stop his assault, continuing to attack his neck and destroy his clothes until Seokjin couldn’t help but moan. Knowing there was no stopping Taehyung when he got like this, Seokjin went along with it. As the younger picked him up and carried him to bed, not stopping until hours later when both lay in the silk sheets spent.

Taehyung lay cuddled against him hiding his face in the crook of his lover’s neck. Even in the dark Seokjin could still make out the dried blood on his cheek’s and hands; clear evidence of what had happened that night. “Who was it this time?” He whispered softly, knowing it was best not to directly ask what Taehyung had done. Taehyung remained quiet for a while before finally speaking, “A pimp and his whore. They were stealing profit.” Seokjin nodded in understanding, “No one of importance then.” To anyone listening it may sound harsh, but Seokjin had long stopped caring what other’s thought of him. Except for Namjoon and Taehyung. They were the most important people in his life, he would be damned if anything ever occurred to either. Seokjin might go insane or set the world ablaze, maybe both. “I missed you last night…” It was a whimper like one a child might make. It always surprised Seokjin at how distinct his lover could be depending on his mood, when they had first met Taehyung had crushed skulls with his bare hands – only to be putty in Seokjin’s later that day. Seokjin had always lived and breathed to be useful to Namjoon, to make him proud. It felt nice to have Taehyung do that for him, no one else would. “Business ran late. You know I have no control over that.” More like it was impossible to peel Lilith off him and the wrath of Jungkook’s comment only fueled that. Seokjin pressed his lips against Taehyung’s forehead, “Don’t worry. I’m here now.” With that Seokjin turned to the side, attempting to fall asleep. “Seokjin?” He rolled his eyes, “Yes Taehyung?” It was as if the temperature of the room had suddenly dropped, he felt Taehyung’s dark eyes piercing into his back. Goosebumps rose on Seokjin’s skin as he waited for his lover to speak. “Don’t let it happen again.”

"Ma'am I'm afraid this area is reserved, and you can't be here." His voice was entirely mechanical and lacked any warmth. Clearly perfectly suited for his profession as a bartender. You had been sitting bored in your hotel room when, you decided that you desperately needed a drink. You hadn’t had one in god knows how long, and there was no better time than the present. You reached for your clutch situated on the marble countertop, "Oh I apologize. I didn't know." You turned the bar stool, just about to dismount when a voice spoke out. "Yoon don't be rude. I'm sure the lady didn't know any better." No way. It can’t be. The voice of your brother replayed in your head, as you remembered the last conversation you had before his death. “You can’t outrun fate, Y/n.” Kim Namjoon was everything you envisioned him to be, yet your imagination couldn't do him justice. He towered over you. He towered over everything and not just physically. Yoon moved over to the wall adjacent to the two of you stationing himself at an angle where he could see your every move. Yoon would see if you reached for your drink or if you decided to pull a gun from your clutch. You didn't bring it with you this time - you knew better. "May I ask what someone like you is doing alone at a bar? Especially at this hour." Namjoon moved in order to sit down, leaving one barstool in between the two of you as a barrier of sorts. "You just did." Your reply was curt but coy.

Kim Namjoon may like dominant independent women for a fuck, but you needed to do so much more than fuck him. "Touche." The man replied before ordering a shot of whiskey, the bartender rushing over. Not wanting him to become bored, you indulged the small talk. "I was in need of a drink." You played with your fingers and you noticed him staring at you from his peripheral. "Bit dangerous for a woman to be drinking alone in this day and age." Namjoon said as he ordered two drinks, one for him and one for you. “About as dangerous as drinking with a complete stranger.” You twirled your finger around the rim of the glass, while Namjoon downed his. The clink of the glass being set down echoed loudly, you turned to look at him. Cold hooded eyes staring back at you. There was such an intensity in his stare. It was as if he could see right through you and that instinctively terrified you. If Namjoon ever found out what you were planning hell would look like a stroll through the park. "Well, then allow me to rectify the situation. My name is Namjoon, and you are?" Namjoon’s interest was piqued, it had been a while since he’d been this entertained. “Pretty name for a pretty boy.” You couldn't help but laugh at your response. At the sound, the corners of his lips turned slightly upward. "I’d love to know your name." Namjoon stated, looking at your entire body from top to bottom. Instead of replying you chose to take a sip of your drink, taking as long as you could. “Do you like it?” He asked, eyes focused on your lips around the straw. “I’ve had better.”

Namjoon finally leaned back and with a curious look on his face spoke, "What's your name?" It was a simple enough question, but coming from the devil himself you knew that it was a dangerous one. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes and a sharp smirk that showcased the indent on his right cheek. The lighting in the empty bar was low, a few lanterns being turned to the lowest setting possible, causing shadows to dance along with his features whenever he moved. “Come on, I deserve at least that.” Kim Namjoon didn’t deserve your name. He deserved to have the world punish him entirely for all his crimes, but such things should not be said out loud. Frustration was growing on his face and before he decided to move on you quickly replied. “What do I gain from telling you my name?” At your comment, he laughed though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You could gain the world.” As if. “Dolores, but you can call me Lolita.” Now his laughter was genuine. Clearly finding the joke funny, using the establishment's name had been a bit clever on your part to your credit. “Y/n. Kim Y/n."

Now that all the pieces are in place, the game begins.

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daysswithyou · 5 years ago

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Fallen Chapter 5: Deal

previous / next

Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC (Rachel)

Genre: angst, fake dating, high school romance, fluff, romance

-----

Whilst the crowd still had their attention solely focused on Brian Kang, you silently made your way down from the elevated podium to the ground, hoping to slip away through the crowd and disappear. Yet you had no such luck. You soon find yourself in the middle of an onslaught as adoring fangirls and fanboys alike charged towards Brian Kang. You couldn’t dodge them fast enough and you were soon assaulted by a barrage of hits and shoves. The last shove was the hardest, and it had you falling to the ground, knocking the wind out of you in the process. Wincing as you held onto your shoulder, you looked up to glare at the rude girl who didn’t even bother to apologise, curses already hanging by your lips.

Only to be silenced by Brian Kang’s fiery gaze.

Just like before, his eyes were locked onto yours, with you being the sole subject of his focus. Not even a single glance for a millisecond at anyone in the crowd of people surrounding him, all vying for his attention. All he could see was you. Your cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze, and you did not appreciate the feeling of being scrutinised by a complete stranger.

Turning away, you stood up from the ground with a huff, making a dash for the school building right at the end of the school.

You wanted to be away from the crowd,

Away from the humiliation,

And away from Brian Kang.

Something tells you that he’s not quite done with you yet, but you have no intention to stick around and find out if that’s true.

---

Pushing open the light metal door, you deeply inhaled the cold winter air, relishing in the coolness that now glazed over the back of your throat. You made the mistake of looking up, causing yourself to be momentarily blinded by the intense rays of the winter sun. Once your vision cleared, you shuffled over to lean against the wall, sticking your head out over the edge to let the wind fan against your face. The cold wind was always so soothing, and this time round, you hoped that the wind could blow away the bad memories from the whole fiasco just now. It was silly to think that way, you know. But fear does sometimes make one lose all sense of rationality. You begin to wish upon the silliest things, hoping that by a miraculous stroke of luck, you could be saved.

The tranquility of your quiet moment was broken by the sound of the metal door slamming against the concrete wall behind you, followed by the loud panting of someone. Wearing a scowl on your face, you turned around to stare at the intruder. A familiar mop of messy black hair greets you, and the same fox-like eyes finds yours again for the third time today when mystery intruder lifts his head up to face you.

“Ya Rachel Hwang. When someone saves you, shouldn’t you at least say thank you? Or a sorry would suffice.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong so why should I apologise? Besides, I didn’t ask to be saved.”

“Oh so you’re going to play the saint now and pretend that you had it under control? Anyone looking could tell that you were terrified. In that scenario just now, I was a hero.”

“A hero? What ridiculous nonsense.”

“Ya.”

“You’re a fallen hero Brian Kang. With that little ‘heroic’ act of yours just now, you’ve basically fallen from grace. You’re now forever associated with me, and you’re going to be everyone’s target now. When you realise that you’re the topic of every malicious hallway gossip, maybe you won’t be so proud of your ‘heroic’ act anymore.”

You narrow your eyes at the last sentence, hoping your sharp words would pierce through his strong facade and make him realise that his metaphorical shining armour was a useless defence against the fire breathing dragons that ran the school hierarchy. Yet, just like before, Brian Kang clearly remained unfazed. Instead, he merely sets his lips in a thin line before saying,

“That’s alright. I’ve got nothing to lose anyways.”

“What do you mean you have nothing to lose? That huge crowd of people cheering for you just now; you’ve got a reputation to keep school star basketball player. In case you forgot.”

Brian’s head hangs low for a second, letting out a scoff.

“Not anymore. Ayeon just very publicly announced to her thousands of Instagram followers that she dumped me. As you said earlier on, I have indeed fallen from grace.”

The mere mention of Ayeon’s name sets off a flare within you, anger showing on your features for a short while. You know you shouldn’t be solely blaming her for the dismiss of your relationship with Jaebum; after all, it takes two hands to clap. But the mention of her name still rubs you the wrong way. You were still angry at both Jaebum and Ayeon, and you were extremely bitter that both of them were the cause for your sudden sorry state.

Things were still the same. You were full of spite, and -

“You want Jaebum to pay, I can see that. So let me cut to the chase: I’m here today to offer you something. A business proposal, you could call it that. Something that could work for the both of us.”

Brian Kang now has your full attention.

“Carry on.”

“Fake dating.”

You turn back to face the ledge, signalling the end of a conversation. The idea was absurd; to act like you’re in love with a complete stranger. You knew that you couldn’t do that, the idea would simply never pull through and no one would believe your little show.

“Look Rachel, I know it sounds crazy but listen till the end.”

Brian Kang strides over to stand beside you now, leaning against the low wall as he looks at your side profile.

“You and I stand to gain from this arrangement. Im Jaebum is a man with an inflated ego. After how you disgraced him in the canteen months ago, his self-esteem is now thoroughly crushed. A man being beaten up by a female in front of the whole school. His sole goal would be to get revenge against you; to see you crushed like an insignificant bug under his fingertips. He did that once in the canteen back then, and he did that today at the dunking booth. You and I both know that he enjoyed every second of it; being able to make you look bad. He basks in the sick glory he gets by making you an outcast so that your life in this school would be miserable. Why do you want to give him that perverse satisfaction by going around looking so beaten down like you did just now? By pretending to be happy with me, you can finally show Im Jaebum that your happiness is no longer in his control, and that you’re fully capable of being content without him. It’s time you took matters into your own hands, and reclaim your happiness, don’t you think?

It’s time to rip Im Jaebum out of the sweet illusion of the power he thinks possesses over people’s lives.”

A heavy silence falls between the both of you as you turn to make eye contact with Brian Kang. You can’t deny it, he makes a very convincing argument. You knew Im Jaebum well enough, and you knew that every word that Brian Kang uttered was absolutely true. He was used to being the one in control and if you were to tear that control away from him, it would make him livid; maybe even drive him insane.

And right now, you knew you would give anything to see Im Jaebum break from his perfect image.

But still, you didn’t see how Brian stood to gain from this deal.

“You’ve only talked about what I stand to gain from this deal. What about you Brian Kang? You and I aren’t supposed to be the losing parties in this agreement.”

“I get to show Ayeon what she’s missing out on. And once she sees that, she’ll break up with Im Jaebum, and I get to have her back. You get to spite Im Jaebum, and I get to win her back. I did promise you that both of us would gain from the proposal.”

“It’s a very...convincing proposal. But we should agree on some terms and conditions, don’t you think so?”

“Don’t worry, I got that all figured out. You can pass me your phone number later, and we can discuss about it. So… I take it that we have an agreement?”

Brian Kang sticks his hand out in an old-fashioned manner, and you stare at it, making a quick decision in your head.

Brian Kang was right. Like him, you had nothing to lose. You could only stand to gain from this agreement.

“Congratulations Brian Kang, you have just earned yourself a business partner.”

---

Later that night, you got a text from him just like he said he would.

From: Brian Kang

The terms and conditions that you’ve requested for. If it’s all ok with you, the deal starts tomorrow.

Public displays of affection only, no affection out of the public eye.

Don't get involved in one another's personal lives. All this is just for show.

Don't catch feelings for one another.

This will all end once I get Ayeon back.

Do we have a deal?

From: Rachel Hwang

Deal.

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ssaalexblake · 5 years ago

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" #13 is already scary club!!!!! #she's just more emotionally mature than men 1 through 12" THIS, I am fully into this and agree!

Yeah, I mean, the first run through of season 11 I ended up focusing more on her chipper side, so I deliberately watched out for anger and personality faults on my second go through, and really, it’s all there in Whittaker’s performance. Especially in Resolution, which isn’t surprising considering what the bad guy was, it was also, strictly speaking, the first proper barometer we’ve had to measure thirteen’s reaction to something we’ve seen the other doctors react to.

I just have a lot of very jumbled thoughts about the actual narrative, where i think they’re going with this, and kind of… Weariness?? At the logic behind wanting a ‘snap’ from 13 just to prove she’s angry?? I ended up using this as an excuse to vent stuff i’ve been trying to say but am bad at putting into words, oops.

I mean, 13 was Clearly not in a good mood over that Dalek. Compare her reaction to seeing Tim Shaw again to seeing the Dalek again and that’s brutally obvious. She blatantly mocked Tooth face, and regarded him so little that she just marched off away from him and pretty much forgot entirely about him while trying to put those planets back where they came from, even After she realises that Tim Shaw pretty much slaughtered the inhabitance of a handful of entire planets she still totally disregards him.

Which, frankly, is kind of terrifying in itself considering what he did to (potentially) many billions of people, and says a lot about the doctor’s view on casualty counts, but not currently my point. In the end, she doesn’t even end up doing a single thing about him, and just leaves him in the stasis pod that it’s Very unlikely anybody will come across ever again considering the planet messes with the brains of whoever walks on it, even time lords!

Aaaaaand compare and contrast to Resolution, 13′s entire frame of mind in the whole episode was in crisis mode, she did not let it get one over on her, but she was Clearly incredibly more worked up in this episode, which, contrasting with the previous ep, is kind of jarring.

She’s erratic, frantic, at times perversely entertained, accidentally changed the entire tardis colour scheme to red in a fit of temper, takes out time more than once to taunt the dalek (and uhm.. she does this and it gets away and the next scene is of it slaughtering a bunch of soldiers), oh… And that thing where Ryan’s dad was like, about to get spaced and die horribly with the dalek and she just froze and did absolutely nothing about it. I mean, in the same episode she controls the tardis with a clap of her hands… which i will assume was just her doing it telepathically and being weird about it, which means she really doesn’t get to use ‘well i was holding on myself’ excuse to get out of That one, and this is among other things which i’m sure i’ve forgotten.

More importantly, i can trace the above things back to moments in previous episodes, like, perverse glee??? Demons of the Punjab. Anger??? King James just had that effect on her even when he Wasn’t actively being a sexist asshole, she didn’t like him hitting too close to home. Threatening? Kerblam’s ‘if i ever find out you’re lying’. Taunting? she legit taunts Krasko into straight up throttling her. Sacrifice one for the good of the many? Kerblam, you could easily view Charlie as her first proper kill. It all has roots, didn’t come from nowhere.

I’ve spoken before about how she’s deliberately tempering her anger, and how it all roots back to ‘laugh hard, run fast, be kind’, but i feel like that’s kinda made it seem to people that she’s not scary just because she’s not being openly ostentatious about it?? When in actuality she’s just performing intense amounts of emotional labour in a genuine effort to improve herself, and it’s not gender based because canonically this utter disaster had no clue how lousy they’d been to their female companions or anybody else until some very blunt life lessons… in an episode in the back half of the season, so canonically we legit Can’t write her previous behaviour off on any kind of female socialization.

And while I feel like we are heading to 13 crashing and burning, you know, figuratively (but she’s still the doctor so i won’t rule out a 50% chance of literal crashing and burning), bottling isn’t a super idea either and she’s probably going to combust, i’m justminorly uncomfortable with the insinuation that the base line of all anger is the explosive outbursts the doctor is prone to. I’m not against her snapping and having a classic doctor outburst, pretty sure that’s where they’re heading because she’s slowly but surely gradually losing ground with the image she’s trying to project and the only time we’ve already seen her called on it (king james) she… Did not react positively.

I just have issues with the insinuation that to be the doctor she has to act out their worst qualities when we can see them in her clearly without her doing so just to Prove she’s the doctor. She’s already angry and arrogant, it’s there in the show, it’s just… Angry outbursts aren’t good? And having the storyline framed around her snapping actively being scary and bad for both her and others is more where my head is at, I think i feel like this is where it’s going, for it to be a breaking down moment rather than framed as something liberating, i just don’t feel comfortable with the grandeur surrounding it potentially happening in a liberating fashion.

I mean, from a gendered perspective, women having to temper reasonable anger is bad and oppressive and i understand the bad optics of it and wanting it it happen for the very reason of avoiding that, but also? Men Not having to bother to temper violent angry outbursts is also an awful thing on the list of shitty things about patriarchy, but that doesn’t just mean everybody should be able to have angry violent outbursts, it means nobody should, it’s not about stooping, it means work on self improvement if you do do this and stop, not ‘hey everybody gets a free pass to be an explosive scary jerk’.

The discussion around this all often makes me uncomfortable in the ways we treat violence and anger. I’m not a fan of loud/cold/threatening outburst kinda people, real or fictional, which is probably why my favourite Who characters are almost never the doctor. But I Do recognise they’re finally making an effort these days, and I do recognise and appreciate it in 13 and it makes me like her a lot more than a number of the other doctors. They’ve reached a stage where they’re actually working on it, methods aside, i respect that I can see all of the doctor’s questionable qualities within her but i can also see some kind of attempt to actively work on them. That is laudable.

I mean, ok, maybe Not the best story to go with after 12+ men and suddenly one woman, but it Did start with 12 and Capaldi whose presence bought age and wisdom to it, Whittaker is just following the thread, really. It also Probably wasn’t purposeful that it ended up like this??? Considering new management and writers etc etc, but i also very much feel like s11 was a groundwork season and even in that i can see the fascade slipping away episode by episode, in resolution she even tells them one of her deepest shames, at the time with little context, but if any of them think back on it, they’ll Understand.

(disclaimer: I don’t have anything against anybody who wants a snap (if written well, i would also enjoy it, i like angst), i just have an issue with our cultural relation to violence in certain circumstances and this narrative kind of creeps towards the idea that if you’ve had outbursts before that you can’t stop yourself the next time and I don’t like that as a message, i don’t dislike any of the doctors, i just like the companions Significantly more 90% of the time, and yes i would very much like to be able to show anger as a woman without being demeaned for it, but there is a difference between being looked down upon for being justifiably angry, and thinking it’s ok to let your anger take control of you and scare others. Also: Not all emotional labour is bad, i have to write this bc i’m publishing on tumblr so yeah. )

#danni watches doctor who #this Got Away From Me #and u didn't even ask a question im sorry lol #also #all i can think of abotu her trying to return those planets in the finale #is the monsters inc 'put that thing back where it came from or so help me'#and her doing the little dance #oops?#aaaand i added a disclaimer bc the last time i wrote an opinion on this show i got rudeness #and the time before that actually #but honestly i think it's gonna start caving round her ears soon #me: i can't wait!!!#also me: don't hurt me Or them Chibnall they're perfect angels who don't deserve it #i hate publishing opinions on this site but also i'm sick of the frame of mind #that means i don't so i'm #publishing #doctor who #also i feel like this would have more meaning if i'd Watched the end of 12's run instead of just read about it all #i don't have binge watch kind of time #tho

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afrodeitiess · 5 years ago

Text

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞| friends with benefits

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠| f!oc x m!oc

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲| in which character a and character b have a friends with benefits arrangement but character b just might want something more

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞| this might be my favourite piece of smut that i’ve ever written and i really like the backstory so enjoy

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬| nipple play, fingering

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭| 2021 words

"How was your day?"

Most of their meetings begin this way. She is, after all, a stickler for routine. It's all a part of her need for control. Perhaps it's a character flaw but it works for her that way. It's the reason that they've struck this deal at all. She has no interest in being in a relationship and she doesn't want to have to find someone whenever she has needs that need to be met. It works well this way. No emotional connection and she can, at least, tolerate him.

It doesn't hurt that he's pretty attractive.

He's every bit of the picture of perfection as he sits at the head of the bed, his shirt long abandoned and his legs out in front of him. He's never been her type before; tall, blonde and well built. But then again, she can think about a couple of things that she's never done before she met him.

"It was good," she mutters through her teeth, her mind far away. She doesn't spare him a glance. She's too occupied with pulling her jeans off of her legs. Her brows are furrowed and her lips are set in a pout. Even now, she's something completely mesmerizing to look at.

A smile involuntarily finds it way to his lips and he grins unabashed, his eyes drinking her in as her back is turned to him. He attempts to make his tone nonchalant and casual when he asks. "Did you get something to eat?" He doesn't dare utter it again, knowing fully well that the simple question is crossing unspoken boundaries between them.

She turns around to face him, her hair flung over her shoulder. She's lost her pants now and she's standing in the centre of his room in nothing but a lacy nude bra that matches the hue of her skin and panties to match. She's absolutely breathtaking but it crosses his mind the moment he thinks it, that this goes without saying. It doesn't matter where she is, she's often the only person in the room that he pays attention to. Stupid as it is.

"What?" Her expression is set in confusion.

It feel stupid to repeat it but he does so all the same. She's moving as he speaks making her way into the bed, slowly but surely, the very action of her motion fascinating. "I said, did you have something to eat?" She doesn't say anything but he sees it, the tick in her jaw that he's come to learn means that she hasn't. She doesn't eat all that often, he's noticed. More because of a lack of time than anything else. "Because I'm sure there's something in the fridge that you could have."

"I'm fine," she mutters.

"It's really not healthy to go so long without eating something."

Her eyes are large and playful as she stares at him. He doesn't know what to expect. She's doesn't usually take to well to open expressions of concern about her. To his surprise, the corners of her lips curl into something mischievous. "It's funny that you say that because I can think of something else that I can eat that's far more convenient than the going to the fridge. Much more appealing too."

He feels a rush of adrenaline rush through his body at her words and every part of him is alert to her. There's a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watches her drag her tongue along her bottom lip, the image of her lips around him filling his mind.

"I'm serious," he tries one last time, certain that no matter what she says, he'll be giving into her as he does every time.

She inches closer to him, moving on her knees until she's in front of him. She drapes her legs across him so that she's straddling him, as he looks down at him. Her hands find the band of his boxers and she's slipping her hands underneath the fabric in a familiar manner. "Believe me, so am I."

Her eyes are on him and her face just inches from her. His eye flicker from her eyes to her lips and he shakes his head at her. "You know that just because we're not together doesn't mean I can't worry about you, right?"

Something about his words make her stomach tighten and she can't figure out whether this can be attributed to shirtless figure before her or because of the weight of his words. He stares at her with big, honest eyes and she decides that she doesn't want to know. "Shut up and kiss me," she says, her voice a hushed whisper.

Her words seem to flip the switch in him and his hands move from the bed to either side of her hips, bringing her down so that she sinks onto him and her thighs are straddling either side of him. They've done this so many things that he knows just what she wants. He knows exactly when to take the lead and when to sit back and let her take control. The glint in her eyes indicate the former and he takes her chin in his hands, gripping the sides of her face firmly with one hand while the other drags across her bottom lip.

Suddenly, his lips are on hers, kissing her slowly in the beginning with short soft pecks on her lips and eventually deepening as his tongue slips into her mouth. Her hands moves in his pants, feeling his length underneath her fingers. His lips roam hers, familiar and new all at once as their tongues meet. He pulls away slightly before closing the gap between them, holding her lips between his teeth for a millisecond.

She moans quietly against his lips and his grip on her waist loosens. He slips his hands under his waistband to take both of her hands in his, before holding them above her head. She's looking him in the eyes now, no hint of a smile on her lips. Instead she seems to urge him with her eyes to make the next move.

He kisses her lips quickly before pulling away. "Not yet," he whispers. His lips move from her lips and he finds his way to the exposed skin on her shoulder, dragging his lips across her collarbone, peppering her with kisses all the way through. She's straddling him, with her arms suspended across her head and every simple touch seems to drive her crazy.

Her head is thrown back as his kisses become more stationary, sucking her on skin so hard that she's sure she'll be left with faded bruises the next morning. It's a thin line between pleasure and pain and walk it rather recklessly. Every so often, he pulls his lips off her body and presses his lips over her own, his tongue roaming his mouth, capturing her moans.

Her body responds well to him and she rocks herself against him, closing the gap between them. Every so often, short words leave his lips and he seems to speak them into her skin, his hand trailing the skin of her back, stopping at her hips and lower and grips her ass, his hands seem to force her to be even closer to him.

They rise again and this time, they stop at the hook of her bra. He unhooks it without any problem, his other hand cupping her breasts. As her bra falls away, her body presses against him almost involuntary. His fingers work quickly, running small circles over her nipples, his other hand gripping her other breast. Her body reacts just as he expects that it will, her back arching in a smooth motion, her body shuddering ever so slightly.

"Turn around," he whispers into her ear suddenly. It takes her a moment to realize his words and she still feels light headed and far away but she heeds his orders, moving so that her back is pressed flush against his chest. She can feel his cock hardened at the base of her back and it elicits a grin from her.

"You see what you're doing to me?" he chuckles softly as his hands find her hips pressing her ass against him. He kisses her neck softly and then her earlobe. "What do you want me to do for you?" he asks softly, his low tone sending shivers down her spine.

She pushes herself back against him and feels him react accordingly, a soft groan leaving his lips. She takes his hand without having to turn around, and direct him slowly moving them all over her bare skin before she stops at her breast. His hands tighten on her skin.

"Touch me," she whispers, her voice a low moan.

And he does so. His hands move over her breast, squeezing one in his left hand, tight enough to cause pain but not quite so much. He kneads at her soft skin as he plays with her nipple, gripping her waist with his right. She's directly in front of him and he feels every shudder, every moan against his body. Her body seems to shake as the sounds leaving her lips steadily become louder.

He moves his head slightly so that he's nearly in front of her and his lips close against her nipples. Her head in thrown back as he takes her breast in his mouth. Her groans are loud now as her eyes close shut, allowing her body to ride the wave, every part of her at alert.

Her noises seem to motivate him and he moves his hand from her chest lowering them until he's at her hips. He moves her underwear skillfully to the side, his fingers resting against her clit.

"Oh."

The word dies in her throat, as her back arches on instinct. His hands replaces his lips on her nipples, and suddenly he's all over her body, everywhere all at once as her ass is pressed against him. The sight of her with her eyes closed and her head thrown back, sweat visible along her hair makes his cock hard.

"So pretty," he whispers, her voice low and guttural. His fingers swipe against her clit, moving in small circular motions at first. He's slow but steady and it seems to work. He drags his fingers along her folds, eliciting a loud moan from her. He pushes his fingers into her, slowly. "So fucking pretty."

His thrusts are slow and unrelenting, his fingers curls and straightened inside of her. Her moans have become loud perverse sounds with intervals of gasps as she seems to writhe around him. Her body moves in seemingly impossible ways. He pumps in and out of her wet pussy. His fingers are soaked with her juices, the sounds that it makes bringing a smile to his face.

Her face is flush with emotions and he slips another finger in just as he's beginning to tell he's driving her to the edge. "Fuck, you're so wet. Who's doing this to you, darling?"

Her vision blurs as he curls his fingers, pushing against her g-spot. For somebody who can always seem find an answer, she can barely formulate words right now. "You," she tries but her word is slurred and nearly incomprehensible.

"I can't hear you, darling. Who owns this pussy?"

"You. Fuck! You."

His fingers curl at the same time that he tweaks her nipple sharply, fondling her. Her orgasm ripples from her heat, her body tensing as she releases a loud groan. She closes her eyes as she releases, her cum dripping from her and onto his fingers, her toes curling and her chest rising and falling unsteadily. His name falls from her lips and over and over until the word loses its meaning and she sinks back against him, her body nearly useless.

He's out of breath as well as he slips his hands from inside her, raising them to his lips and sucking on his fingers. "Fuck," he mutters finally as he turns her against him, kissing her lips quickly. "You're made for me."

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