#lol its visible on how many mistake i made

[vppacer]

Becks beginning part 10, drawn as a comic : )

(ignore how the size of the disc shifted, I didn't have a compass with me)

Edit: btw it looks confusing on how to read it (my mistake ^^°) but it's in a Z or 2 formation, left to right, up to down.

[snek-panini]

Got a bit of a different bookbinding post today. @renegadeguild got an ask from a new binder saying they were intimidated by everyone's gorgeous binds (me too, actually, some of you guys are scary good), and so they've asked people to share their first binds. And I realized I'd never even taken photos of my first one, so here it is, warts and all:

This is E.M. Forster's The Machine Stops, a public domain scifi short story that you can read for free at the link. The first reason I chose it was that it's an interesting story, and I'd bought a print-on-demand copy a few years previously that was just terrible. Baffling cover choices, basic errors in the typeset (like quotes that face the wrong way), weird size that didn't fit on my shelf; just not a good product. I couldn't do it with more indifference than the PoD people. The second reason was that I was too intimidated by the thought of asking a fic writer if I could bind their story and then producing something with a thousand sloppy beginner mistakes, and then they'd want to see photos and I'd have to show them this and it would have been mortifying, but Forster has been dead since 1970 so I could not disappoint him. It was very freeing. I bound it in 2021 as an experiment, to see if I liked this hobby enough to stick to it. The cover is green cardstock and faux leather scrapbook paper that I bought at... probably Hobby Lobby. I added the title later, as a practice project when I first got my Cricut; for the first two years of its existence it had a blank cover.

There are more photos under the cut!

In this photo we can see:

--Too much glue when attaching the leather-print paper, so it oozed out onto the cover.

--Cricut font too thin and too much heat/too long of a press, so the letters have gaps and the glue also oozed out here. It's a continuing theme with this bind.

--I tried to use a bone folder to give it a sharper hinge crease and accidentally pressed too hard and tore a hole in the paper; you can see this in the little white vertical line near the top of the hinge

The fore edge is not square. I actually don't remember why this happened. I may have eyeballed the board position when I made the case, or the paper may have slipped while the glue was wet, or I cut it crooked and didn't notice till later. Either way it's bad enough that the book doesn't stand on its own. There was a crooked man/who walked a crooked mile/and found a crooked sixpence/against a crooked stile./He bought a crooked cat/which caught a crooked mouse/and they all loved together in a little crooked house, and I bet they read this little crooked book from their little crooked library.

Top view, you can see that the case is too big and the text block doesn't sit straight in it. It has no endbands or bookmark, and it's hard to see in this photo but there's glue on the top of it, at the spine. This still happens to me but I know how to trim books now so this bit gets cut off. You can also see that the scrapbook paper has some cracks where its white core is visible. This is why I do cloth or actual faux leather on the spines now. Endpaper shows uneven trim (did I not use a ruler for this??), too much glue causing major seepage, and it doesn't sit evenly in the case. I'm not sure if this is because of the case itself being crooked, a badly-trimmed endpaper, or if the text block is also crooked. Or it may be a combination of all these factors. Unclear.

Typeset photos! Here we see:

--Title page has a page number on it. This is a pet peeve of mine and I fixed it after this book.

--There is no half title, summary, or metadata. All my later binds have these things.

--It's typeset in Times New Roman. Unlike many I don't actually hate this font but reading it reminds me of being in high school so this is the only book I used it for. Baskerville is my beloved now. The font is also much bigger than it should be. It's not huge but it's like a large print book so it feels weird for me to read it.

--Lol what are margins

--Lol what are page headers

--Actually I think I left the headers out so it wouldn't have a header on the first page of each chapter, because I knew about page breaks but not section breaks at this time.

--It's on regular-ass lightweight printer paper. There's nothing wrong with this but I switched to heavier weight paper shortly after to help with bleed-through and the light stuff feels so flimsy now.

--I didn't understand how Word's book fold worked at this time, so when I had to set the sheets per booklet and it had an option for 4, I chose that thinking it would give me 4 sheets of paper (16 numbered pages) per sig. It did not do this. It gave me 4 numbered pages per sig. So every signature is 1 sheet of paper. Every page is its own signature. I am still mad about this but it sure drove home how the setting works and also how to make kettle stitches since you make one after every sig. A book of 48 pages has 12 signatures which is just ludicrous.

--There's no photo of this but it has a piece of printer paper on the spine because I didn't have mull. I did use PVA though. Lots and lots of PVA.

--It's stitched with regular sewing thread, which means it doesn't have much swell for a book with that many sigs, but it's less sturdy and more likely to tear the paper.

And that's that! It probably sounds a bit like I was tearing it to shreds but I actually love this book quite a lot. I learned so many things that I applied to my next binds, it was an invaluable experience. It let me fall in love with the hobby so I could make the awesome things I make now. I've got those all posted on my main blog under the tag #snek makes books, or you can see them all on my side blog @papersnakepress. For a first book it's functional and readable, and still better than the PoD copy I had before. I've been thinking of doing a rebind as a sort of progress gauge, actually. Maybe next year.

[mewtwowarrior]

OKAY SO the spirit of writing visited me today and I wrote out a weird little fanfic on my phone, lol

-

To give you an idea of how weird it is, here's a cast list!

Ark: My Tron OC inspired by the Tron: Evolution DS player character

Mars: The rectified by the Occupation version of Ark

Siv and Dylan: @proto-actual's Tron OCs

The Occupation Program: A Tron: Legacy AU of Jonesy from Fortnite

-

It takes place in an AU of @proto-actual's Finite States, many thanks to them for reading it and discussing it with me! <3!

I meant to canon review and read the Fortnite comics before I jumped in to writing fanfic, but I needed to write NOW at the time, so I'm considering this a very rough draft that'll need some work to double check that the dialogue fits.

Summary: Ark is startled by an Occupation program that knows more about her past than she'd like and they get into an argument

-

Ark had settled nicely into her current life working with Siv. Like they had said, it was much different than what she was used to, but as long as she was helping people and making a difference, that's all that mattered to her.

She still enjoyed a good fight and kept up her usual routine of exercises, to make sure that she kept sharp. Despite the odds, she still had the staff she was programmed with, and she planned on keeping it that way.

Living in the lab had taken some getting used to, but she had slowly adjusted to the change of pace. She didn't have the know-how to lead any projects herself, but she lent a hand where she could, especially with moving and lifting things.

At the moment, she was relaxing and listening to the low level chatter and the various machineries. It was one part rest and another part visibly being available if anybody needed a hand. Plus, it was much more pleasant than holing up in her room alone, she had had more than enough of that.

Her calm demeanor was interrupted by a tall Occupation soldier strolling in. She never could get used to how casual they were - and that they rarely posed a real threat to the lab and its people. Yet another difference between here and just about anywhere else.

Ark rested her hand on her baton as he made his way through the lab. He likely wasn't going to cause trouble, but she preferred to be prepared.

Unfortunately for her, he had been sweeping the area with his eyes, and she had caught his attention. Her circuits were different, but there was no mistaking her face. He addressed her in shock, "Mars?!"

At that single word, that cursed name, Ark's circuits ran cold. She glanced around them, trying to figure out who, if anyone, had heard.

She got to her feet and grabbed him by his upper arm and started dragging him towards the back, where there were more private areas.

He protested as they went, sputtering and squawking, but, even though it would be easy for him to break out of her one-handed grip, he didn't even try to do so.

For anybody watching, it was probably a ridiculous sight, as he was over a head taller than her.

When they were out of the lab, Ark fumbled for an unlocked door with her free hand. Once she found one, she opened it and pulled him inside, closing the door behind them.

The room was pitch dark, except for the glow of their circuits, hers blue, and his red.

It took just a moment to get used to the change of lighting, and Ark realized to her horror that they had accidentally ended up in someone else's room. Great, another thing to worry about.

She could think about that later, as for right now, she had an Occupation soldier tilting his head, clearly waiting for her to explain herself.

Ark hissed at him, "Where did you hear that name?"

The Occupation soldier replied, "I was stationed at the detention center for a while. All of the other prisoners came and went, except you. You were always there."

Ark snarled at him, but her tone grew more upset with every word, "That wasn't me, I'm not her, I can't be her!"

He looked down at her with a frown, "I'm sorry." He paused for a moment, before letting his curiosity take over, "You're definitely not her now, how's that even possible? I've never seen that before."

It was Ark's turn to shake her head, "All I know is that a Medic fixed me, but even if I did know, I wouldn't tell an Occupation jerk like you."

He looked hurt, "Hey, I didn't mean to be a jerk."

Ark snorted, "It comes with your occupation. You're not rectified," she let a silent 'unlike I was' hang there for an uncomfortable moment, before continuing, "so you had to choose to join. Which means that you're a jerk."

The soldier scowled and snapped at her, "What makes you think I chose this?"

Ark was slightly taken aback, but her irritation won out over her common sense, "It's obvious, isn't it? You're free to go where you please and do what you want, so you had to have sold yourself out to them."

He glared at her, "You don't know anything about me, so don't even start. I don't want this any more than you do, you've made that clear. I had a choice to make and I've got to stand by it. It was either this or my friends' lives, and I'd choose to save them again every time. Wouldn't you do the same?"

Ark grew silent, not sure how to respond to the glowering soldier, because he was right. She'd sacrifice herself for the people she cared about, even if the end result was terrifying for her.

With the sudden quiet, a muffled voice spoke up from the other side of the door, "Can I go into my room now?"

Ark quickly snapped back without thinking, "No!"

The voice on the other side said a quiet, dejected, "Okay," and there was an unmistakable sound of somebody sliding down the wall and plopping on the floor.

Ark and the Occupation soldier turned their attentions back to each other, looking away from the door. A wide grin played across his face, and he could barely get out a few words before laughing, "Now, who's the jerk?"

She stood there for a moment, looking baffled, but his laughter was infectious and she gave him a light, playful shove, "Hey!"

"'Hey' yourself, now we're even," he smirked at her, pleased that he had managed to turn the tables of the conversation.

He then tilted his head at the door, "Come on, let's get outta here so we both can stop being jerks and hogging somebody else's room." He couldn't resist a playful jab at the bizarre situation.

Ark sighed, "You're right." She opened the door, holding it so that he could follow her.

He gamely trotted after her, unable to resist a bit of light, teasing snark, "Thanks for letting me walk out on my own accord."

Ark dryly replied, "You're welcome."

The soldier laughed in response, and as soon as he cleared the doorway, Dylan, the waiting program scrambled to their feet and darted to the door, quickly closing it and locking it behind them.

Ark glanced at the door and the soldier grinned again, "I guess that's all sorted out. Now, are you gonna let me get on with my business, or are you gonna lock me in a room with you again? Not that I'm complaining, but I'm on the clock and there's gonna be questions if I don't get a move on."

She blinked several times, "Uh, no. Go ahead."

He grinned, "Thanks, I appreciate it." He couldn't resist teasing her again one more time.

A moment passed as they each waited to see if that was the end of their little adventure, after a beat, he broke the silence first, "Well, that's that, I'm guessing that I'll be seeing you around?"

Ark nodded, "Yeah, I'm staying here for now."

He beamed in return, "Good! Hopefully our next conversation will be a little friendlier."

She cracked a smile, "Hopefully."

He dropped his own smile to be more serious for a moment, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you're here. And, I won't speak that other name again, I promise."

Ark gave him a just-as-serious nod, "Thank you, that means a lot to me."

He returned her nod, then turned and walked off to go speak to Siv, giving her a casual wave without looking back.

Ark stood there in stunned silence, gave him enough time to get ahead, and then made her way back to her usual post, hoping that there'd be something to work on or something heavy to lift, she'd been distracted enough as it was, and it appeared that this wouldn't be the last of it.

[ilovedthestars]

Murderbot Fic Rec List: Ghosts

October is approaching, and it seems like a good time of year for some ghost stories!! (These are not all horror, and some aren’t even scary—if you’re looking for actual chills I’m not the person to go to, lol. These are just stories with ghosts.)

Mayday, Mayday, Mayday by TheSteelChimera 638 words, Teen And Up, Creator Chose Not To Warn

Ghosts aren't real, all evidence points to the fact that human superstition is just that, superstition.But wormholes are strange places, and the MNTS Perihelion knows that ghost ships are very real.

A ghost story featuring ART, and the last echoes of lost ships. The mysteries of wormhole physics are a perfect explanation for hearing voices in the void. I also highly, highly recommend the podfic by DevilWithABirdDress, which has some echoes and effects that absolutely enhance the spooky atmosphere.

Ill Omen by avg 5,511 words, General Audiences, Creator Chose Not To Warn & No Archive Warnings Apply

Despite the positive attributes of a ship ghost, there is one omen associated with its presence: no member of a ship blessed by its presence shall ever set eyes on it. It only ever becomes visible to the crew of a doomed ship.

An alternate universe ASR where Murderbot is a ghost!! Binding souls to survey habitats as a security service is absolutely something the company would do if it had that capability. Supernatural suspense and haunting as protection—the fantasy/sci-fi flavor of this one is very cool.

The Stowaway by Masu_Trout 2,712 words, Teen And Up, No Archive Warnings Apply

I wasn't even worried. That, I think, was my first mistake. Far outside of Corporation Rim, Murderbot meets a cargo bot with a strange story to tell.

A gem from wayyy back in the archive, published in 2017 when only ASR was out, but still impressively consistent with the tone of where the series has gone! Murderbot hears a ghost story that it doesn’t really believe, but then again…. This one also has a podfic available. the past is no forgotten promise by lunaTactics 1,942 words, General Audience, No Archive Warnings Apply

"It should have been creepy. I had been in places like this that were really creepy. But this wasn't. Maybe because I knew where the humans and augmented humans who had last used this ship had gone, that their descendants were running around all over this system." How can the ghosts of the past be frightening when they love, and are loved?     Remember us. We are a promise to you that there will always be hope.     You are home. The ghosts of the Pressy speak to their successors. Or, Murderbot is empowered to pursue the ideal SecUnit's rescue because Preservation's ideals support it.

A heartwarming ghost story, to finish off the list. Sometimes ghosts aren’t trying to scare you or keep you away—they want to welcome you home. This one gives me emotions (enough that I made art about it) and also has a podfic available.

If you have any favorite ghost stories from the Murderbot fandom, or otherwise spooky/seasonally-appropriate ones, please feel free to add on other recommendations! There’s several that I haven’t read myself but have heard many good things about.

[enlighten3d]

More thoughts on r!au, because you brought it up again:

There are 3 eras of wifies and his person, both of whom have similar skill sets. First comes evilfies and masked wato, who create escape rooms. Then comes clonefies and ken, who escape them. Finally comes lastfies and parrot who kill to survive. (Hearts at least are technically craftable)

Ken managed to rescue clonefies by outsmarting their predecessors. By proving that clonefies was more than a clone, through a game rigged in their favor.

Parrot managed to rescue lastfies by killing their predecessors. By proving that lastfies was just a clone, through mistaking one for the other.

There are so many stars in the bright sky, all of them basically identical. It takes knowing them and how they relate to the others around them to identify them. Who could blame you if just after sunset, when only a few are visible, you mistook one star for another? (And the sun is still a star, even as it burns you. It's your fault for mistaking distance for peace, and still inviting it closer)

And then, because the spyglass reminded me, you can't look directly at the sun- it'll blind you. Parrot can't look directly at his own actions, can't look clearly at lastfies, can't process what happened. Is it because of how bright his mistakes shine? Or is it because his spyglass is stained with blood?

(and yes, in my opinion, lastfies and parrot can share being represented by the sun. Clonefies needs something specific to contrast and parrot deserves every parallel he gets)

Finally, does wato eventually stop putting hanging roots in their escape rooms? I doubt lastfies would know enough about escape rooms to confidently declare them as the most useless item, and why bother sneaking in a signature when you have to show up to help them out of softlocks you could have sworn they would never get into.

Just what do you do when you don't have any of your friends. Wifies is different, and parrot won't meet your eye and ken is trapped in a prison that blocks messages. (except no one off-server has heard from him and the prison seems abandoned when you try to arrange a visit and you're pretty sure that ken wouldn't have let his stasis despawn and this is apparently the only prison that parrot won't try to break someone out of)

What do you do when you have no proof, but your server feels like a graveyard.

(post in which i brought up rau again, and heres the post explaining rau. yay for having context! context is great.)

forewarning that i wrote this over the course of like, a day, sorry if its disjointed lol. but then again, what else does one expect from a long lime post but incoherency.

HI HELL YEAHHH RAU THOUGHTS!!! REPLACEMENT AU!!!!!!!!!!! i love rau did you know that <- fucking insane about this au. nonnie i love you thank you. this is going to be as incoherent + probably hard to read as usual! sorry gonna yap a lot about rau!wato here because you made the mistake of mentioning rau!wato. replacement au may be about wifies clones stuff but OUGH DOES RAU!WATO HAUNT ME. that will be the latter portion of this post tho

SO!

OOOHHH OKAY GOOD POINT. about. fuck okay thats insane? have NOT thought about the eras of wifies each having their own person and the 'transitions' reflecting their relationships... actually fucking insane. dont have anything to add just know that im staring at you w wide eyes /pos

its your fault for mistaking distance for peace, and still inviting it closer- actually wild line im- okay. okay.

YEAH THE. the. yeah. you get it perfectly, i have no notes.the spyglass and the sun thing- fuck. he tries to look at the sun, his actions, and doesnt see, doesnt understand, but still he does it via the spyglass, via that same frame of mine of clonefies that hes unwilling to abandon. look at lastfies, understand him through the lense of parrots relationship with clonefies, understand him only as clonefies. hes still the same person! parrot didnt do anything! nothing happened! youre fine! look at lastfies, look at his own actions/mistakes through the lense of a spyglass. frame of mind of his relationship with clonefies. actuallly insane.

lastfies and parrot can share the sun/daytime. wild thought actually, i do agree. because. the sun is a star - clonefies is the stars and lastfies is just similar enough but also not really; part of a larger category but different, so different. and parrot always denies how much of himself he sees in lastfies, its a whole thing. theyre similar in so many ways but- no! this is still the same wifies! and wifies would never be like parrot. never!

OKAY. SO. NONNIE. NONNIE. ABOUT WATO. ABOUT RAU!WATO. THERES A LOT. that never got mentioned on tumblr i dont think. theyre so theatre metaphor (coughs long poem coughs). genuinely like. okay. we (milo and i) have thought abt all of what youve mentioned here. sorry the rest of the post is going to be about rau!wato i am actually fucking insane about rau!wato holy shit

the escape rooms stop having those personal touches. no hanging roots, no little injokes, hints at familiarity. theyre easier, because they know that what theyd normally make is for clonefies, who they know would figure it out. so the escape rooms are easier, and he still watches, and he still has to interfere where he shouldnt have to (why doesnt parrot pick up on these things either? (hes in denial, wato. deeeeep denial.)). its wrong on every level. because- rau!wato is so interesting. she knows that lastfies isnt clonefies. hes in WAYYY less denial than parrot (its actually impossible to out-denial rau!parrot), AND he... he was the one that found lastfies in the first place, right? so she knows about lastfies existence, she knows that something is wrong. still theres a little bit of hope (parrot wouldnt kill wifies afterall, right?) that gets held out. maybe theyve got the story wrong! but still they pull away. this wifies is wrong, theyve never been close with parrot, ken is trapped in a prison unable to escape (somethings so off about that, right? why isnt parrot helping? why is he 'respecting kens wishes' when those wishes go entirely against what he stands for? why does parrot look that way whenever ken gets mentioned? something is so wrong about this.)

what defines rau!wato is the inaction. theyre trapped in the audience, and the one time they forced their way onstage, tried to help, to do something for once, it goes wrong. and clonefies dies. now she just doesnt do anything. shes fucked everything up once already (this is all her fault, right? right?). shes got the most information out of anyone other than lastfies and parrot, shes the only one who can do anything. but he doesnt. hes messed it up already, and he doesnt know enough to get people to believe him. what do you mean, wato? what do you mean this wifies isnt the same wifies? no, hes always been this way? this violent, this quiet, this loyal- yeah sure hes a bit different from when he joined, but maybe getting chunkbanned messed him up just that much, you know? youre making things up. you have no evidence. and so wato doesnt say anything. theyre trapped in the audience, watching this play set to music that they wrote themselves, and they cant do anything about it. and everywhere he looks, theres death.

parrot and lastfies canonically die, in rau. not sure if i ever mentioned this on tumblr but whatever, am (re?)explaining it. eventually someone gets suspicious about the weirdness at proton, and maybe wato slips a piece of information or two, but they go and investigate, and theres no one there. its abandoned, more than just the lack of guards whom to ask to visit the supposed sole prisoner. theres no one there. breaking in is easy, figuring out that kenadian is not there is easier. naturally, one goes to parrot, the very person who said that ken was trapped in the first place. question him. parrot runs. lastfies follows. but parrot cant run forever, not from a bunch of people who considered ken a friend/ally, not a manhunt

this all started on a cliff, didnt it? parrot and clonefies watched the sunset from a cliff right before the lastfies thing. it ends on a cliff, too. a cliff, above the ocean. he jumps, doesnt fly, and lastfies, of course, follows willingly (theres a lot to say about lastfies). and then theyre dead, the both of them

the next day, theres an eclipse.

wato is the only person who really visits that cliff. theres this really pretty scene in the animatic milo is (was? idk) making about rau, where wato stands at that cliff during the eclipse, holding hydrangeas, and the petals fly off

onto the shore wash an earring, a spyglass, and a headband. (nothing else. parrots lost himself.)

and so, rau!wato is the last one left. out of everyone, hes the last one left. what now? pick up the pieces? sure, but theres no pieces to pick up. things remain obscured; its not like parrot or lastfies (the only ones who really knew everything, and even then their perceptions were warped in their own ways) ever wrote anything down or talked to anyone- and ken is dead, too. all she can do is piece together what she already has, and shes already done all that she could, and assumptions are dangerous, and-

its just this really really deep-seated feeling of unresolution. there will never be any resolution. watos just the last one left, left to grieve everything that happened and everyone thats died, and he cant even really talk to anyone about this, he never could, and he doesnt even know everything thats happened. hes just left to deal with the consequences of everything. and nothing is ever quite the same. whats she to do now? (they dont know.)

a server the feels like a graveyard, indeed

(pspspspspsps @milo-the-mage... i summon thee.....)

[atl4ntxc]

—character(s), Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmo, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon.

—genre, full on triggering angst.

—cw/tw, heavy description and signs of depression, very triggering! mentions of pills, mentions of suicide. (please dm or send an ask if i missed any!)

—notes, this is a bit too long, lol. very triggering! also, i'll be reblogging this with the taglist after i'm done editing it.

please do not plagiarize, copy, translate or repost on any platform/website without my consent.

how to be replaced 005

how to be replaced 007

You never liked Ella.

She was manipulative, selfish, and worse of all, she despises you. Ella was fairly a decent and nice person before arriving at Devildom. But after she arrived, she changed.

She required and demanded for attention from the brothers, and the people around you.

Eventually, majority of them slowly drifted away from your grasp, leaving your embrace. Your eyes lost its shine— your personality changed.

The ones that stayed had comforted you, they really tried. But never succeeded in the end.

You neglected your health, both mentally and physically. As time went on, you didn't even care about yourself anymore. You're always in a state of emptiness— where it seems like you're stuck in a black void with no light, no lead of escape.

Your own form of coping mechanism was pushing yourself in academics, trying to escape the painful reality and your awaited death.

You were never really good at anything, you were decent. You can cook, but you can't cook like Ella. You were the definition of 'a jack of all trades is a master of none'.

You don't cry yourself to sleep every night, depression isn't only about crying yourself to sleep and feeling sad— it's also about feeling like there's no pleasure or joy in life. For many with depression, it feels like there's no way out. Everything felt... hopeless, like there is no light at the end of a tunnel.

As much as you like being alone, nobody likes feeling lonely.

At times, you've had delusions or hallucinations. Or sometimes, both.

You used to enjoy art, but you have lost interest in it. Same as other activities that you had took interest in, you didn't even bat an eye at them when your depression hits.

You got irritated much more easily. Even at the slightest mistake, you would throw a tantrum (and regret it afterwards).

You felt like your energy was being drained slowly, even if you've had extra sleep.

But, you kept yourself awake for days, and even a week. Sleep deprivation were painfully visible as the eyebags under your eyes got heavier and darker each day.

Of course, you hid it with a little foundation. They were stupid enough to believe them, it made you laugh.

Looking at your own reflection was getting harder and harder. You could see each flaw on your face and body, and it made you angry.

Why can't you be perfect?

Why can't you be better?

Why are you like this?

Battling depression was getting harder everyday. You would often stare at the extra pills that slipped out of the orange bottle in your hand— though, you brushed it off. After swallowing the medications, you'd think, 'i missed an opportunity'.

They didn't understand what you were going through! They never did. You'd vent to them, but they'd say, "relatable", "same lol", "me too", "people have it worse" and more.

It's not fair. Why can't it be about you for once? 'Just let me be selfish for once'.

They will never understand you. Heck, they wouldn't even notice the fact that you are literally dying!

Satan was reading, his slender fingers gently flipping the pages of the newly-bought book. You kept talking, with a smile on your face, eyes shining slightly.

You stopped talking when Ella arrived and sat beside Satan, hugging his side. Satan looked by his side to see Ella smiling at him, her blue orbs shining brightly. "Satan! Let's go to the library together,"

"Sure, why not."

You slowly put your hands on your lap— the shine disappearing from your eyes, yet again. Staring blankly at them, you pressed your lips into a thin line. "Sorry, Mc. I have to go,"

He stood up, Ella still connected to his arm. Their figures slowly started to disappear as they walk away.

'You said something dumb again'.

You shook your head and lowered it down, eyes being half-lidded as you stared at your lap. The room was filled with silence as you kept your lips shut, an unexpressive face visible.

Sighing, you smiled to yourself, fixing your posture as you leaned back on the wheelchair.

'How much longer?'

'When is the urge going away?'

You lift your dominant hand up and stared at your palm, wondering what you did wrong in life.

It's because you didn't listen to us.

Your eyes went wide as you froze, your body refusing to move as you were in a state of shock.

We tried warning you.

Don't get too close— but you didn't listen...

The second voice sighed. You were still in a shocked state— it has been so long since you've heard of these voices. You kinda missed them.

As toxic as they can be, they kept you company, and occasionally, they would offer useful advice when you didn't know what to do.

You learned to accept their annoying presences, but sometimes, they make you want to bash your head againts a wall. Once they decide to talk, they never shut up.

"It wasn't my fault... they love me, so maybe that's why they did that," You spoke, eyes half-lidded as you stared at the creaking floor.

Oh do they? If they did love you, things shouldn't of ended up this way.

It's pitiful, really... seeing you crawl back to the ones who don't even love you..

You love others but can't even love yourself. How is that going to work?

Stop being an idiot and quit crawling back to them.

They made different points, yes— but all of them had one thing in common, they made you realize on how many times you have been giving them second chances, even though its crystal clear on how they wouldn't change.

Even if they did, they wouldn't change for you— they would change for Ella, give extreme effort.

It's always Ella.

That two-faced bitch.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes:

Hello Everyone and welcome to my second update. I wasn’t certain about the kind of reaction and feedback I would get from the public about this fic. But so far it has been wonderful! Thank you so much to all the people that liked, reblogged and commented.

I personally love to see Gojo grovel at y/n’s feet. It’s not often we get to see the mighty Gojo Satoru all weak for that one person. Yes I am a sadist lol and if you are enjoying this fic, so are you! Lol

English is not my first language so if you notice any grammatical, structural or spelling mistakes please bare with me, I am doing my best.

PS: This fic does deviate from the canon since in my story Suguru never got killed nor is his body possessed by a cursed spirit. He is living and well. As he deserves, because I love him. ❤️

Series Master List

II.

(1 month ago)

Suguru Geto was not a very social man so to speak, he didn’t have many friends except for an eccentric and rambunctious blue eyed sorcerer, a gloomy lady doctor who was probably dissecting some dead body at the morgue of the Jujutsu Tech and of course… the lovely Y/N L/N well… now Y/N Gojo.

It was rather odd how both Satoru and Suguru had met Y/N. They were in their early twenties, in a mission as per usual. A special grade curse in a ballet studio. When they went in there all they found was a beautiful young woman immersed in her own world dancing to the mellow notes of “Kissing You by Des’ree.

They went in expecting as per usual to find the nasty, rotten decay of a curse taking over and what they found instead was nothing of the sort. Satoru’s six eyes saw clearly the lingering cursed energy floating around but it was oddly not attacking her. It was almost as if her dance and the music had appeased the curse’s destructive wrath, it had… distracted it. They would have to wait, standing on that spot with their feet stuck on the ground, unable to remove their eyes from the beautiful vision in front of them. Her precise and elegant movements, infused with the strength of her muscles to perfectly execute them in what looked like an effortless sequence…. Hypnotising, was the word.

The duo couldn’t very well try and exorcise a curse when an innocent and beautiful civilian was in the middle so they settled for giving her some time to be done and abandon the place before they could get to work.

When she was done, a thin layer of sweet clung to her S/c skin. Wiping her face softly with a towel she picked up her belongings, turned off the music and the lights; putting on a light beige jacket she finally left the building. As soon as she crossed the door the curse woke up from its lethargic state. What in the fuck was that!? They had never seen a curse stopping to enjoy artistic beauty before.

After quickly disposing of the curse both men looked into each other’s eyes as if to say ‘who the hell was that?’ In silent agreement they followed the woman and soon caught up to her walking down the dark streets of Tokyo while listening to her music in her earphones. Oblivious to her surroundings she almost got hit by a vehicle, that is exactly when Satoru warped to her and pulled her away from the danger.

The young woman was surprised when the lights of a car flashed before her eyes and just as suddenly she was pulled away; looking up she found a platinum haired blindfolded man holding her in his arms with a wide grin saying “that was a close call doll!” She blushed noticing his handsome features perfectly visible despite the garment hiding his eyes. The closeness of his body made her heart beat increase. In that moment Suguru arrived, running and asking “are you alright?” Concern noticeable in his rich and velvety baritone voice. Looking up to the newly arrived raven haired man she blushed even deeper. “I… uh, I’m alright!” She quickly added, forcing her brain to work “sorry! I was distracted… but, thank you for that!” she quickly added with a little smile moving away from the extremely tall snow haired man who moments ago had her stuck to his body. “That’s alright!” Replied Satoru, his smirk growing even wider if possible “we were here to save the day!” Winking at her with the cheesiest line ever “but allow me to introduce myself! My name is Gojo Satoru and this is my friend Geto Suguru”

A little nervous and embarrassed she collected herself to reply “nice to meet you both! My name is Y/N L/N”. Satoru was the first one to answer “Y/N L/N? Where are you from?” Asked with childish excitement to the clearly foreign woman. Her features, eyes, hair and skin color made it obvious she was not Japanese. Her exotic beauty was nevertheless captivating.

-

A knock at the door interrupted Suguru from traveling down memory lane. Sighing he stood up from the couch where he had been lounging with a book he was pretending to read while reminiscing. When he opened the door, the sight shocked him “are you alright?! What is wrong?!” y/n was at his door, her beautiful e/c eyes red and puffy from crying, looking devastated and in the middle of a panic attack. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug asking what was happening, where the hell was Satoru?! But when he mentioned his best friend’s name her crying intensified.

“Sugu…” in a trembling and cracked voice she started “he is cheating on me… with another woman…” he wasn’t moving, he wasn’t even breathing. Those words simply struck a cord within his chest that made something snap inside like a rubber band.

He didn’t want to overreact, what with her current state, it wouldn’t do any good “are.. you sure?” He asked in a whisper stroking her back while she hugged him holding onto him for dear life. She nodded and then she cried harder.

“Yes…” whispered the woman against his chest “I hired a private investigator and he gave me the pictures and all the confirmation I needed”.

In all the years he had known Y/N he had never seen her so… distressed, broken… frail. She usually was quite the opposite. Energetic, full of life, fire and spunk. Ready to take down anyone, even Satoru himself. Which was probably why Satoru had been so smitten. No woman ever had treated him the way she did, as if he was just another normal guy. It forced the egocentric jujutsu sorcerer to have a humility check rather often; oddly he enjoyed the feeling of being treated like a normal person. She appreciated him for who he really was aside from his name, the money and the power. She saw right through him.

Seeing her in this deplorable state, a carcass of herself was heart breaking to Suguru who had strong feelings for her.

Suguru wasn’t surprised she had hired a detective, she was smart and resourceful. “I,..” controlling his rage he softened his voice “I am sorry kitten” said calling her by her given nickname. “What can I do for you?” Asked stroking her tresses, trying to comfort her while attempting to appease the anger inside him. “I… don’t know” a broken whisper was suffocated against his damp chest “I want to leave…” continued “would you… help me?”.

“Are you certain that is what you want?” Asked calmly wiping away her tears. The h/c nodded. “I will help”.

That is how they both had planned everything in detail. She wanted to disappear from the map which normally shouldn’t be too complicated but when you have THE Gojo Satoru hot on your trail it became extremely challenging. Getting a fake identity, passports, money, bank accounts, airplane tickets, picking what places she would go to and what name she would change to every time was a tough task but she had decided she didn’t want anything to do with Satoru anymore.

Suguru even offered to come along since he didn’t want her traveling alone but she refused. He understood she needed time alone to heal; at least he still could keep in touch and help her through her journey.

—-

(Tonight)

Satoru didn’t even bother to knock at the door of his best friend’s apartment, he warped right in the middle of his living room where he found Suguru with a glass of whiskey in hand and a book on the other. The dark haired sorcerer arched an eyebrow while staring at a frenzied looking Satoru.

“Where is she?” White disheveled hair framed two crystal blue eyes with blown pupils that took in his surroundings, examining every corner as if he was expecting to find a clue to his wife’s whereabouts. He just knew Suguru would know where she was. Y/N and Geto were very close and Satoru was not ignorant about the obviously one sided infatuation he had with his woman. But it was all platonic and y/n would never do anything suspicious, he trusted her with his life!

“You would have to be more specific Satoru” retorted in a calm tone before taking a sip from his drink. Finally setting the glass on the coffee table in front of him.

“Oh don’t fucking play that bullshit game with me Suguru! Where is MY wife?”. Geto watched his friend while he tried to contain his anger, the tense posture, muscles contracted, energy cracking around him…Satoru was about to go feral. “And how am I supposed to know where YOUR wife is? Isn’t she your wife? Shouldn’t you know here to find her?” Now he was just poking the bear.

Satoru smirked, a dark and terrifying gesture “don’t fuck with me Suguru and just tell me what I want to know”.

“I don’t know…” was his meek answer. Suguru stood up and walked to the window looking at the night lights of the city bellow “she said you would come here first looking for blood so she made sure not even I knew where she was going” answered in a careless tone as if he was talking about the weather instead of Satoru’s wife leaving him.

———> Chapter 3

Tags: @Sleepyamaya, @Cloudsinthecosmos, @Jxvajxy, @satoruhooraaa

[chamsburger]

What do you make of the snow ball scene? I don’t understand why Mike pushes Will to dance with that girl. I also am a little confused about why they had Will be so visibly uncomfortable about being asked to dance, and then look to Mike for help, but later he’s smiling as he dances with her. Do you think maybe the smile was fake, or was he genuinely having fun? I’m starting to really believe in byler, but you also can’t deny that Mike really wanted to dance with El, or that he was very sad when he thought she wouldn’t make it. And I thought maybe we would see Will sad that he couldn’t dance with Mike, but maybe Will’s feelings for Mike just weren’t romantic yet since they were still so young. Do you think in the case of byler this would be a writing flaw, or is there something more to the scene?

TYSM FOR THE ASK MWAH <3

I don't think I have any bold opinions on the snowball scene, I know many people think thats when mike realized his feelings for will but i personally don't think so

with mike pushing will to dance with that girl, i honestly can't see him NOT doing that? we know now with season 3 and 4 that mike is dealing with some form of internalized homophobia, so i can definitely see that playing a big part. i believe within the original character descriptions it mentioned that mike was insecure about not having a girlfriend. in s3, Mike is also shown saying "I mean what did you think, really? that we were never going to get girlfriends?" which had always struck me as odd, since mike almost described it... as something on a bucket list? get a girlfriend? idk. so the snowball scene could possibly be mike projecting his insecurities onto will? kind of like "hey. this is your chance. go get a girlfriend." does that make sense? thats how i interpret it!!!

with will smiling while dancing with the girl, that is most definitely a fake smile lol. it isnt necessarily OBVIOUS but if you pay attention to the song playing while they dance i believe its something along the lines of "with every smile you fake"- which clues into the fact that he wasn't having fun. plus i mean we know will is gay so i don't think he was necessarily enjoying it; ESPECIALLY taking into consideration the glance he gave mike when she asked. it was a "help, what do i do" look. going off of this, they definitely wouldn't/shouldn't have included will wanting to dance with mike. this was s2, right? my memory of the earlier seasons is fuzzy, but this definitely isn't a writing flaw. I'm glad they took will's love for mike at a slow pace. Him longing to dance with mike would have been too explicit too early. I mean, we didn't even know if will liked mike in s3. it was all still speculation. so to have something so obvious in s2 would kind of mess up the pace of the slowburn imo. i think having the "with every smile you fake" line from the song is genius. something so subtle yet so OUT THERE. something that makes you think "huh. i wonder why they had that line for that specific scene." but now that we know will is gay and in love with mike, its like "oh!!!! thats why!!!!!"

with mike and el, boy that is a hard one. m/leven in the earlier seasons is confusing, but overall i think that mike and el were mistaking their feelings for each other as romantic. i mean, if we take into consideration mike being insecure about not having a gf, and the fact that lucas and others almost forced romantic feelings onto m/leven's relationship, i can totally see mike messing up his feelings and viewing them for el in a skewed way. overall i do love the snowball scene, and i feel like its one of the only m/leven moments where they're both genuinely happy to see each other, with no relationship drama. i love it.

but overall i think mike was pressuring will to get a gf and be "normal" while also pressuring himself to rush into this romantic relationship with el.

PHEW THIS MADE ME THINK. BUT I LOVE IT AHHHH THANKS AGAIN IF U WANT ME TO EXPLAIN FURTHER I CAN DEFINITELY TRY

[stormblessed95]

I'm baby Army and I saw a lot of posts on Jimin now. About how he hasn't been given enough screen time in the MVs or enough lines in their songs. Is that true. Has he been left out from spotlight in music videos and in their songs. How many times has it happened

Hello baby army! The line distribution stuff is stemming from the very little time Jimin was on the My Universe collab, which I gave my thoughts over here. BTS have shared their process over who gets what lines and when many times, and in the end, it comes down to trusting them. Plus with the addition of the documentary shared this morning, Jimin looked happy and like he was having a blast on the chorus with everyone. So if he is happy, I am happy. I will trust their process here. Do I wish I could have heard more from him because his voice is one of my favorites and he would have sounded amazing? Yes. Am I upset or does it detract from the song in its whole? No.

And the issue with the spotlight is in reference to Jimin dancing in the dark during the butter dance break, which IS a problem and confuses me as to why it keeps happening. I know it probably isn't malicious, but I do think greater effort should be made. The center of the group shifts halfway through the dance break and whoever is the lighting director during performances needs to then make sure that the center of the spotlight shifts so that all the members are at the very least visible. One time, maybe even 2 times could be a mistake, 3 times just sucks honestly.

This is different from choosing who sings what, they are all dancing, so none of them should be dancing in darkness. If only certain members were dancing or singing during that part, it wouldn't matter if some or one of the members who wasn't dancing was in the dark. But all 7 are dancing, all 7 should be able to be seen. Which is what has people upset. In the end, it doesn't detract from how amazing all 7 of them performed, but I do think there is a difference in asking for all members to be visible when they are all performing and questioning their line distribution process they have already spoken about in the past.

And no, it's not like this is something that always happens to Jimin or he is purposely left out of the spotlight all the time. Sometimes he even gets his own for his solo part of a song lol

Hope this helped explain things a little more.

[volleychumps]

hiii! i rlly like your writing, it’s so cute! lol could i get hcs for the karasuno bois where their s/o is kind of like emergency relax person. like when they get super nervous or they’re under a lot of pressure during a game ukai, takeda or kyoka calls them over and helps their bf calm down. ofc you don’t have to if you don’t want to, anyways love your work! 💕

Helping Karasuno While they’re in a Game 

Daichi

-Father Daichi was giving off a certain atmosphere that was making the whole team feel uneasy

-No like actually Asahi might’ve shit his pants

-You were nervously watching from the sidelines, seeing him become more and more irate as the other team won’t stop jabbing him where he knew he was lacking

-It didn’t make it any better when you saw him glancing at you as if he was ashamed to play this way in front of you

-aw dad no 

-Daichi starts making mistakes even a beginner doesn’t make in his blind fit of anger, and you see Takeda-sensei waving you down with both arms

-You point a finger to yourself, slightly blanching, Me? 

-When you walk out onto the sidelines of the court, Suga looks at you with a look that screams please save us what if he kills someone

-Ukai pulls him out of the game for a second, Daichi’s jaw tightening as he walks off and takes a seat on the bench

-From behind him, you wrap your arms around him loosely, surprising him. Your chest presses against his back and your face emerges next to his, smiling as he arches an eyebrow in your direction, the angered expression leaving almost immediately. 

-”Hi.”

-”(Y/N), what are you doing-?” 

-The coaches visibly relax when they see Daichi’s jaw and stature loosen as you place a single chaste kiss on the side of his neck, ignoring the stares you were getting from people.

- “If you love to play, don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t.” Is what you murmur in his ear, rubbing circles on his back. “I’m proud of you no matter what.”

- His hand reaches up to grab yours that was resting lax against his chest, tightening slightly before standing and giving you his signature kind grin, ready to jog back out with a clear head

- “You’re pretty great, you know?” 

- “Knock em dead, Dai.” 

-The other team pales when they see you glaring at the member who was successfully trying to mess Daichi’s game up, eyes more heated than ever as Daichi chuckles and leads you away by the shoulders. 

- “Be afraid of her. Be very afraid. She’s my secret weapon.” 

-And shit, the other team didn’t manage to score for the rest of the game because Daddy Daichi is the foundation 

-When they line up in front of the audience, you blush when Daichi’s eyes lock with yours, mouth moving to form silent words

- We made it. 

Sugawara 

- “What if I mess up?” “Suga you won’t-” “I’m not as good as Kageyama, I don’t think-” “Suga, calm down.”

-Asahi nervously glances at the score, seeing they had to make this point in order to stop the set from coming to a deuce, currently on their last timeout. 

-the nerves of the usually leading Setter were beginning to spread, prompting Kiyoko to look up at the stands and scanning the crowds before her eyes rest on you

- You’re down there in an instant, walking up to your boyfriend with a bounce in your step as he nervously seems to rock back and forth in place

-”Suga~” You stop in front of him, looking him straight in the eye as you place a hand on his cold cheek. 

-You smile when he exhales deeply, his once rigid shoulders relaxing. “(Y/N).”

- “And just why does my handsome boyfriend look like the world is ending?” 

-”(Y/N), I can’t mess this up! Not in front of you, defintely not in front of you…” His hand reaches up to hold the hand that was resting on his cheek, hazel eyes full of insecurity. “Kageyama would-”

-”Hey.” You force him to lift his chin to meet your eyes straight on. “I don’t care what Kageyama can or can’t do-No offense Kageyama don’t look at me like that-you know why?” 

-You press your forehead against his, feeling his breathing even out. “Because there are things only you can do, love.” 

- The team gapes as Sugawara’s eyes suddenly harden, fist clenching before pumping the air full of determination, a smile now set on his face that was brimming with gratitude

- “Let’s do this.” 

- “I’ve never felt more single than in this moment-” “Noya SHUT UP.” 

-When they win the set, Suga makes a show of pointing at you directly in the stands, winking flirtatiously as you mockingly roll your eyes with a smile on your face

-Thank you for being by my side. 

Asahi

-Poor soft boy gets beaten down when his spikes just won’t go through

- As a result, he keeps hitting against the blocks and forgetting to pay attention to where the blockers were in a fit of frustration

-Gets subbed out after losing four consecutive points, and shoves Daichi and Suga off when they try to offer words of comfort

- “Kiyoko, why are you calling my phone? Wait, I’m allowed down there?” 

-Within the next few minutes, Daichi and Suga are looking at you with pleading eyes when you walk out onto the sidelines towards your boyfriend

- “Even Noya can’t calm him down, and some are just afraid to approach him” “Nah, don’t worry I got this.” 

-Asahi is hunched over on the bench, an expression of frustration evident on his face as he glares down at the floor

-You kneel in front of him, grinning lopsidedly when his dark eyes meet yours, the tension around his eyes softening almost immediately

- “I…I can’t do this.” His voice is hushed as his eyebrows furrow together, causing you to stand from your kneeling position and run a hand through his hair. 

- “Asahi, who’s number am I wearing right now?” “…Mine.” “Why do you think I’m wearing it?” “…I don’t know…” 

- You tilt his face up to look at you from your standing position, giving you a rare height difference as you run a finger along his jawline relaxedly. His face turns beet red when your lips quirk up into a smile.

- “Because I believe in you, Asahi.” 

-”…you do?” how does that soft a voice come out of your big boyfriend he’s so precious ugH

- “I do. Now get out there, and don’t let them have their way with you.”

- Daichi and Suga look at you in thanks when Asahi makes his way back out on to the court with flames of determination on his heels, causing you to wink jokingly

- “I told you I got this.” 

- When your precious soft boy scores the winning point, he makes direct eye contact with you before smiling hugely, a blush on his features

- Thank you for believing in me. 

Nishinoya 

- “Shit!” “Noya, you need to calm-” “I’m sorry! I’ll get the next one, I promise!” 

- The worried expression is evident on your face as you watch your boyfriend’s next attempt of getting the ball up fail, his fist slamming down on the gym floor in a fit of rage

-”Dammit!” 

- You don’t need to be told twice when you rush down there with the permission of Coach Ukai, seeing your libero boyfriend tapping his foot impatiently with a heated expression on his face as he stood with his other teammates on the warming bench 

-Ennoshita and Hinata both step away from the heated boy simutaneously when you approach, smiling as if nothing were wrong

- “Babe.” 

- “(Y/N)?” Noya’s expression of anger turns into one of confusion when he sees you standing in front of him. “What are you doing on the court?” 

- You ignore his question, raising his arm with a click of your tongue. “This won’t do.”

- you pull out a bandaid from your pocket with a little rabbit on it before placing it on one of his bruises, a small smile on your face as you look up at him 

- “This band-aid has my luck in it. Don’t take it for granted.” You sternly say as Noya looks at you with a shocked expression before relaxing into a smirk 

- “Well, I can’t lose now, can I?” 

- “Definitely not.” To top it off, you place a quick kiss on his cheek before beginning to walk off with a bounce in your step, waving backwards

- “If you win, I’ll give you as many kisses as you want.” 

- You don’t have to turn on your heel to know that Noya had entered a frenzy filled with determination, fire lit in his pupils as he rushes back into the game

- “does that mean to play my best, I need to get a girlfriend-” “No, Hinata.”

- a content smile makes its way onto your face as you high-five Kiyoko on your way back to the stands 

- when his playing becomes significantly better and they take the set, he races up to the stands after bowing to the audience, the audience members making way for him in confusion as his sweaty form jogs up to you

-You laugh when he peppers your face in kisses, pushing him away slightly as he grasps your wrist from doing so, eyes playful 

- “You better keep your promise, cutie.”

Tanaka 

- oh boy

- this boy’s anger was on the brink of fury as you watch from the stands with a sweat drop, glancing at his older sister worriedly as she sighs

- “He’s letting them get to him again.” 

- When Tanaka hits the ball into the net with his next spike, he gets pulled out of the game and gets set on the bench to calm himself down

- Takeda-sensei murmered something to Coach Ukai, who nods before making eye contact with you and making a hand motion, asking you to come down

- You walk onto the court before casually taking a seat on the bench next to Tanaka, startling the furious boy when you did so

- “What…(Y/N)?” 

- “Ah. Don’t mind me, it’s easier to see here. Plus I wanted to be closer to you.”

- When you rest your head on his shoulder, you feel him physically relax from your touch as you hum, smiling when he wraps an arm around you

- “Better?” You ask him after a few moments, turning your head to see that Tanaka’s face had turned from irate to flushed, his eyes looking everywhere but you 

- You laugh a little when he buries his face in your hair, breathing in your scent before standing up all of a sudden, a renewed vigour in his eyes

- “(Y/N). Watch me.” 

- “Only if you promise to win.” You wink as he jogs back into the game when time alotted, Tanaka’s control becoming more stable when he did so

- “What?” you blanch when you see him picking a verbal fight with one of the players on the other team

- “You mad I have a cute girlfriend and you don’t?” 

- You see that little comment have a pretty big effect on the player previously messing with him, making you sigh at how childish your boyfriend could be before smiling

- He glances back at you before Kageyama gives him the next spike, slamming it down successfully before clenching his fists with a roar

- Watch me, (Y/N).

Hinata

- “Do I need to kick you again-” “Kageyama, don’t-” “He’s too riled up! Come on, just one kick-” “Kageyama nO” 

- pouty boy gets taken out after the other team successfully finds a way around his quicks, making Hinata go back to making common errors due to his frustration

-so when Coach Ukai makes eye contact with you in the stands, you laugh a little, having done this before 

-when you get down there you hug him tightly, pulling him in by the jersey while  feeling him tense up before gripping the back of your shirt in his fist

- “Calm me down…please.” 

- “You do know you’re being counted on, right? The other guys on the team respect you as a regular, dummy. No need to let them blocking your quick get to you.” 

- “They…respect me?” 

- You sweatdrop. “Did you think they didn’t? You have the right to stand on this court,” 

-when you pull back to kiss his nose, he flushes. “Don’t waste it.”

- As soon as your adorable boyfriend begins bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, waiting to be put back in, Ukai flashes you a thumbs up while sighing in relief

- “How simple-minded.” “Tsukishima, don’t be a cynic.” 

Kageyama

- “Oho? The Great King? Making mistakes? Never thought I’d see the day.” 

- The conversation on the court went unheard in your ears, but you visibly saw the look of irritation pass your boyfriend’s face as you sweat drop

- When he misses the next jump serve he delivers, Ukai calls a timeout before the other team scores the winning point 

-so when the team huddles, Kiyoko waves you down from the stands 

- “You can’t lose your cool like that. It’ll mess up any chance of momentum this team can build up.” Ukai tells your boyfriend straightforwardly, and you see his jaw tick at the pressure

-you sneakily pull his wrist away from his teammates while no one was noticing, spinning him around playfully to face you

- “Is that a frown I see, Kageyama?” 

- “He’s always frowning-OW!” “Hinata not right now” 

-okay maybe not so sneakily

- blue-eyed baby would insist he’s okay as you stare him down, not believing him 

-it barely takes a second for him to realize you had hugged his torso, burying your face in his chest as he flushes when you hit him with a cheesy pick-up line, taking his mind off the frustration purposefully

- “You might be number 9 on the court, but you’re number 1 in my heart.”

- Tanaka and Noya start cackling at the dead-serious expression on your face

-Those words seemed to hold a lot of meaning to the usually introverted boy, and he puts a hand on top of your head, nodding slightly

- “A-alright. I get it..!”

- blue-eyed boy is blushing when he makes his way back onto the court, and the team is relieved to see him visibly more calmer 

- “Kageyama, you’re number one in my heart too-!” “Tanaka shuSH.”

- You cross your arms triumphantly when your boy leads the team to victory, Kiyoko sighing at how simple it was to turn the tides in the first years

- “Must you say embarrassing things in order to diffuse me?” Kageyama grumbles when you jog up to him after the win 

- “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” 

Tsukishima (slight suggestive themes, Tsukki you cocky bastard)

-Uh oh, the king of cynics dishes it out easily but easily gets triggered when it comes time to take it 

-lightning strikes between him and another player who was his least favorite kind of spiker

-the rest of the team feel like they’re in danger with the air Tsukki was giving off

- well except Yamaguchi, I wish someone would support me that much wtf

- so when Takeda-sensei makes eye contact with you in the stands, you jog down there nonchalantly to see your boy wiping furiously at the sweat gathered around his forehead in frustration

-blonde boy sighs when he feels you press a rag against his head for him “Y/N you’re not supposed to be down here.” 

- “I don’t really care, mister.” You continue to help dry him off, ignoring the sour expression on his face. 

- Tsukki’s eyes narrow when you begin to smirk, bending now to murmur in his ear 

- “you’re the tallest person on the court right now, and you’re letting that nobody have their way with you? you know that slot’s reserved for Hinata.” 

- others on the sideline gulp, thinking you made the situation worse until Tsukishima sighs, glancing off in the opposite direction 

- “fine.” he glances at you dangerously as you smile in response, unfazed as he catches your hand once before tightening his grip, letting go a second later

- “just for that, I’m having my way with you later.”

- shit wait whAT

- “well, that certainly motivated him-” “Narita your nose is bleeding” 

- Tsukki glances back at you with a smirk at your flushed features as the rest of the team nod at you in thanks, the atmosphere becoming more cocky than deadly

- so when he confidently blocks the player who was obviously getting him riled up on purpose and takes the set, he’s pulling you out of the gym a split second later 

- “Tsukki you still have to bow-”

- “Don’t care. You got me fired up back there, and for what?” 

- “NariTA your nosE-” 

Yamaguchi

- poor baby boy is psyching himself out before he has to come in as a Pinch Server 

- “(Y-Y/N) is watching.” he stutters to Ukai, head bowed. “she…I don’t want to fail in front of her! Please…I can’t-”

- Baby Yamaguchi is biting his lip in frustration until someone flicks his head, making him look up in surprise to see you with a frown on your face with your arms crossed

- “And who here is telling you you’re going to fail, Yama?”

- At his silent response, you sigh before grabbing his trembling hands, your lips soft upon the part you flicked him 

- “Hey. Look at me. No, don’t look away-” 

- forcefully have to tilt his head to look at you

- “You can do this. You’ve practiced so hard, Yama…don’t let it all be for nothing.” Your voice becomes soft and soothing as Yamaguchi takes a steady breath

- “And when you land this, land it for you. Not for me, not for anybody else. You don’t need to prove to me that you’re worth it because I know that you are.” 

- when his rigid shoulders lose their tension, you see the glint in his eye that makes you smile

- So, you spin him around so his back is facing you before leaning up to whisper in his ear-

- “Oh, and I love you, you know that?” 

-Cutie becomes a stuttering mess as you push him out onto the court, hearing Coach Ukai sigh with his head in his hands 

- “you know you either made or break him, right?” 

- “I��m betting on the former”

- When he scores with his serve consecutively, he punches the air with a winning expression on his face before running up to you and hugging you

- “See? Told you.” you grin at Ukai over your boyfriend’s shoulder 

- Coach Ukai defintely encourages you to come to more games 

[plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows]

Frame type headcanon ramble because I’ve had it sitting around for ages and I wanna share it lol. There’ll be a part 2 at some point so I can talk more about the individual frame types cause there’s lots of them.

PART 2 HERE

Notes on Frame Type:

↠   Frametype refers to physical (non-electrical) schematics like skeletal structure, engine type/grade, and armor pattern. Also comes with some base coding, some inherited memory data, and some other weird shit that no-one really knows a whole lot about (because the Primacy only grants study proposals once in a blue moon). Because it's the most visible level of differentiation between Cybertronians, it tends to be the first... sorting system that they categorize themselves by, resulting in stuff like Functionism.

↠   Divided into three 'ancestral types' based on mythological divisions of the Thirteen: 

Warframes claim descent from Prima the Sword, Megatronus the Shield, Liege Maximo the Burning Torch, and the Wanderer. They are distinguished by their thicker armor, more struts and shock absorbers in their skeletal system, more flex joints practically everywhere, and some more fun stuff I'm not sure how to describe as yet. 

Groundframes claim descent from the Record-Keeper, the Muse, Alchemist the Philosopher, and Solus the Smith. They are distinguished by not having most of the stuff listed above. 

Flightframes claim descent from Vector the Timekeeper, Nexus the Sundered, the Guiding Hand, and the Guardian Wall, and are distinguished by being flight-capable (without deliberate modding). 

Over time, these three ancestral types split into several quite different phenotypes — unintentionally due to environmental pressures, such as the case of the minibots during the Cataclysm, or through deliberate engineering, such as the Second Generation military projects that led to the creation of dexters, rotaries, and flighted warbuilds ('Seekers').

↠   Most Cybertronian languages have a pronoun system that is either based around or can be extended into frame types. I’ve been using letter-number codes to describe them — please imagine that they're standing in for sounds I can't possibly transcribe in human orthography lmao.

Coda to the above point — I really fuckin hate the Aligned canon of 'there are 13 different frametypes based on the Thirteen Primes and one of them is Girl', so mech vs. femme is 100% not a thing here. There are no 'girl' frametypes and 'boy' frametypes, there are no girl robots and no boy robots at all, I'm just using she/he/they/etc. pronouns for English-language convenience. 

↠   Shifters have their own system configurations and technically their own frametype, but they have a 'root form' that usually conforms outwardly to one of the standard frametypes. Shifters tend to be smaller (and they're an absolute nightmare for medics, Shifter medical care is its own specialty) and are commonly classed with various minibot subtypes. Jazz, for example, is usually an articulate, but he can make himself as big as a light standard or as small as a sylph.

↠   Triplechangers also have their own system configuration and frametype, but unless they have visibly incongruent kibble (or they're using their pronoun i guess) it's common to mistake them for heavy warbuilds. One way to tell them apart? The warbuilds tend to have narrower waists. It's not foolproof, but triplechangers are generally packing more stuff in their innards. With heavy warbuilds the frametype ideal is to stuff as many important components as possible into their heavily-armored chests. Which is just not possible with the triplechangers.

Notes on System Configuration:

↠   System Configuration refers to processor schematics, (most) computer hardware, (most) software, and electrical system components/layout. It's a lot more important and relevant to your average Cybertronian than frame type is in most cases, but also largely invisible from the outside. Some system configurations are more common in certain frametypes; for example the ferus and efficiens systems are particularly widespread among flightframes as compared to groundframes, but in general any frametype could have any of the five standard configurations.

↠   Shifter configuration is the only one of the special configurations that is 'natural' — it goes back to Amalgamous the Star of Chaos, one of the Thirteen. The others were all the product of deliberate engineering. Although the fracture and gestalt configurations were inspired by the mythical depiction of Nexus Prime as having five component bodies, Nexus did not pass down this trait, and it was left up to daring scientists to recreate.

↠   Literally any transformation-capable frametype can be reformatted into a gestalt configuration, allowing that mech to combine with up to five other mecha. (My combiners tend to look something more like Bayverse Devastator sans wrecking balls, incidentally. Love that alien look.) Theoretically you could even do it with someone like Omega Supreme but nobody has yet because the size difference is Awkward.

↠   Fracture configuration likewise is something someone of any frametype can be reformatted into — it's basically just a matter of getting an extra body or two that matches your existing frametype and creating a spark-deep network. It can be a steep learning curve to pay attention to more than one body at once, though, and that's where the special system configuration comes in. A fracturemech's frametype is whatever frametype their component bodies are — unlike gestalts, a fracturemech's components all match. They do have a combined form, but the form that counts for frametype purposes is the one that can transform — and combined mecha can't transform.

↠   the Sparked Ship Special and Sparked City Special configurations are notable for having more individual variation than any other system configuration — they are tailor-made for the individual ship or city according to their projected needs and environments. 

They are classed as a group rather than as 'Unclassified Configurations' because they do share some basic architecture and also are uniformly ridiculously complex. Most are paired with semi-independent AIs in a permanent network, and they all deliberately add lots of new stuff to their system over the course of their long long lives, in response to external pressures or even just plain curiosity or boredom. (Much like regular Cybertronians, in fact; these guys — sparked cities in particular — just aren't limited to whatever they can stuff into a frame that needs to transform on the regular.)

Notes on Size Class:

↠  the main concern of size class is weight and mass rather than height per se; height classes cross over with each other and the weight classes don't. You get classed to match the weight; so even if you're, say, only 12' tall and massing to match Class 3, if you weigh over 500kg you get classed in Class 4. 

Height does matter in that manufacturers and builders tend to assume that if you weigh and mass a certain amount then you're going to be within a certain height range as well, for ease of standardization. And once you get much beyond Class 12, very few manufacturers and whatnot account for you anyway, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

[sweetestlamb]

Bad Idea

Summary: Cha-young has a bad idea that involves one dangerous Italian. 

Author's note: It's really just smut that I couldn't get out of my head, these two have no right having this much chemistry. It's only been 4 episodes. Read at your own risk. Also disregard anything I say about the law I'm making this shit up lol I don't know anything and I couldn't be bothered to look it up. I wanted to write more(aka make the smut smuttier) but life is getting in the way so please accept this and except more in the future when I have more time.😏

*Plays Ariana Grande- Bad Idea*

She has broken the law, after spending years learning the nooks and crannies of the justice system; hours spent soaking the ink into her fingers and absorbing the knowledge until it became a part of her very fiber. Arson. She was liable to seven years if penalized, Babel would surely flex their corrupted muscles to imprison them for even longer if they were found. She'd seen first hand what they did to those they believed were in their way, the loss of her father still pressing on her heart in aches that ebb and flow like waves on the coast.

She thought she would feel conflicted, when he had shared his plan she'd stared at him in concern, only then realizing that he was not bluffing about the lengths he would go- she was following him to the pits of hell and there would be no turning back. It was told that the road there was paved with best of intentions, but she wouldn't delude herself into believing she was a martyr.

No, this wasn't selfless or self-sacrificing for the greater good. It was revenge. Plain and simple, she had never seen eye to eye with her father seeing his earnestness as naivety especially after losing her mother, hating him for abandoning them; his heart was so huge yet he had no room for his own family. She was his only child but he hadn't come to her on bended knees pleading for her forgiveness after her mother died, no he had committed even harder to fighting for strangers. She didn't care what others said about how good and kind he was, she was angry. Devastatingly filled with resentment and that hadn't dissipated with his untimely passing, her last words to him had truly been what was in her heart.

But, it wasn't all that was in her heart.

He'd been a first love, the first man to show her unconditional love. Then he'd broken her heart and taken that unconditional love and spread it thin until she barely had a sliver left.

Despite all of these thoughts swimming in her mind like a tornado whirling until her brain feels dizzy she's proud of what they've done. Watching the factory burn ruthlessly made her skin feel like it was similarly enflamed, flames licking at her skin and looking over at the man who'd made this all possible set other parts of her body on fire.

He was infuriating, a wolf in sheep's clothing where she just wanted the wolf without the sham.

Squirming in her seat, she pretends to stare out the window sneaking glances at his profile. Cataloging the parts of his face that are still visible, the point of his nose that looms over the smooth lines of his lips and those eyes, they are docile now none of the killer intent that had been there in the bathroom as he asphyxiated a man in a dirty bathroom with merely a wire hanger. He was dangerous but that didn't make her want to keep her distance, no it lured her even closer like a moth to a flame.

Her entire life had been a series of barely thought out mistakes, what was one more? At least this one would be fun. She was hoping he fucked like he fought, rough and with singular focus. Betting on it.

"Should I drop you home Cha-young ssi?," the voice of her father's right hand man breaks the silence they'd been enduring. In her peripheral Vincenzo moves tuning into the conversation, no longer muttering to himself in what she can only assume is Italian.

"No. I'm going with him, we have something to discuss." She replies with confidence, nodding over to the man with pursed lips. He stares back at her with a lifted brow to which she responds with her own brow, exaggerated so far that it makes her mouth falls open and he tilts his head at her looking dumbfounded. She shrugs patting his knee, he doesn't need to know. They have plans he'll get on board soon enough.

Joo-Sung quickly looks between them clear questions in his eyes, she stares at him hard and he flinches before focusing on the road. Still fearing her more despite seeing first hand what Vincenzo is capable of she almost preens from the satisfaction, there's nothing quite like invoking that level of fright in another.

It's the little things in life.

Shockingly enough the Italian Korean doesn't argue, sighing before leaning back further into his seat seemingly deciding that it's not worth the headache. It won't be that hard to train him it seems, she silently hopes that he's more defiant behind closed doors she needs the aggression tonight.

If he could see the salacious things running through her head she wonders how he would react, would it make him hot under the collar? Make him pin her to the car and rip the protective suit from her body until all that remained was her quivering breasts and aching core, even Joo-Sung sitting right beside her isn't enough to qualm her imaginings. She needs his hands on her twisting her into position and hungrily devouring everything she's offering, desperately wants to use one of his many ties to render him motionless as she takes him apart.

The wetness pooling between her legs is slippery now, dripping into the delicate lace of her panties she shifts to relieve some of the pressure but the opposite happens and she rubs against her already swollen bead her imagination quickly making her spiral out of the realm of acceptable behavior. A small moan falls from her lips and Vincenzo stiffens next to her, acutely aware of her now she can feel his eyes on her as he tries not to look.

She swallows the moan that threatens to escape as she watches him lick his lips from the tail of his eyes, he picks up a bottle of water with an ever present air of nonchalance that she wants to shatter to pieces, her deviance the sledgehammer. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and she wants to be the nectar sliding down his throat, she hasn't had sex in months and everything about him screams good fuck.

She just needs scientific proof to back up that hypothesis.

Keeping her eyes straight ahead she places her hand innocuously between them, slowly walking her finger over to his thigh until she reaches the thick meat of his leg and feels him jump under her coy touch. At first, he tenses the muscles coiled tight under the pads of her fingers. They always look so enticing wrapped in the expensive material of his dress pants, they'll look even better bracketing her thighs as he pounds into her.

"What the hell are you doing?" He hisses at her through clenched teeth. She smirks in response basking in his annoyance.

She answers by running her manicured fingers up the line of his thigh until she reaches the vee of his groin, he instantly grabs her hand in a tight grip before she can complete her journey. She flexes her fingers in his grip and he tightens ever slightly answering her wordless challenge. Biting her lips discretely she reaches up with a free hand to lower the zip of her safety suit, blowing at the skin as its revealed bits of sweat linger on her skin and she wipes at it before running her hands across her neck peeling away the thick curtain of her hair. A few strands sticking to the nape of her neck.

He's watching her, she can feel his eyes trailing her every move. He squeezes painfully at her fingers when she starts to bring the zipper lower, just about passing over the swell of her breast.

"Are you hot Cha-young ssi should I turn on the AC?" Joo-Sung asks trying to be helpful, she barely responds to him nodding her head in decline as she focuses on her prey.

"No. I'm fine, I don't mind the heat." She's talking to Joo-Sung but her message is for Vincenzo alone, anything he can dish out she can take it, will gobble it up eagerly and ask for seconds she's not looking for love, no they're too fucked up for that. This thing between them is purely animalistic.

She fights his hold on her hand with futility, being sighing and pretending to admit defeat. He releases her hand carefully watching her, waiting for her counter attack and she places the dejected hand in her lap before trailing down to vee between her thighs. Pressing one finger against her mound she looks over at him with liquid eyes, he's fixated eyes unblinking as they watch her finger at her clothed entrance. She runs two digits down and under, tilting her head back in faux exhaustion and when she looks over and his gaze is penetrating her face she smiles, playful and mischievous.

"We're here." Joo-Sung states, turning down the radio which had done a great job of smothering her sounds. She'd turned it on initially for that purpose.

Before Vincenzo can even grasp the door handle she clamors over him, straddling his lap lips falling open at the hard line that presses deliciously at her hot center, Joo-Sung sputters in his seat glancing back and forth between them in shock, Vincenzo's face is a storm- his brows furrowed and his lips twisted in a sneer. After minutely grounding down into his hard cock she finally grabs the handle, pulling the door open.

"You were taking too long. Let's go," she easily says with a straight face, swinging her leg over she jumps out of the car, "I'll see you tomorrow." She waves at Joo-Sung before looking back at Vincenzo and beckoning him with a hand. After a moments pause he silently gets out of the car, slamming the door emphatically. Joo-Sung wastes no time before peeling away, racing like the devil is on his tail the car gone within seconds.

"Are you crazy? Why would you do that in front of him?" He immediately grabs her arm tugging her into his face and she almost giggles at his punishing grip on her elbow.

"He won't think anything of it. I've done way worst things to men." She shrugs not fighting his grip instead stepping even further into his orbit, as if he has his own gravitational pull. His eyes flash minutely before he slams into her, grabbing the side of her head and thrusting his tongue through the loose seal of lips eagerly she responds, dragging him down by his shoulders to similarly lick at his mouth, sucking earnestly at his tongue. The kiss is fast and furious, both of them battling for dominance it's wet and messy and she hopes that sex will be the same. She's getting hot and bothered just thinking about it. Suddenly he bends low breaking their kiss catching her off guard before slinging her over his shoulder easily. Her hair tumbles down over his back nearly touching the ground and she squeaks when he slaps her ass, hard.

"You'll do worst things with me." He promises, walking to his apartment with her slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. If she wasn't so turned on she would hate this macho man display but this is what she was waiting for all night. She can hardly look a gift horse in the mouth. But she still grumbles and pounds at his back for show, she has a reputation to uphold after all.

He unlocks the door with her dangling from his shoulder and after stopping to drop the keys in a glass bowl he effortlessly tosses her down onto a couch, she looks up affronted by his callous move but her complaint dies on her tongue as she sees the way he's looking at her, dark eyes undressing her as he looms over her body.

There's surely no need for that.

Feeling generous she leans back unzipping her suit, this time not stopping sliding it down her chest and the cool air makes her nipples perk up under the tight thin material of her tank top. His eyes are like beads of coal as he hungrily stares at her. He reaches out for her, hands barely cupping her breasts before he freezes, searching her face before drawing away. With a groan he spins around before turning back to her, grabbing his hair before taking a deep breath.

"Your father's dead and we just burned down the Babel factory."

She stares at him as he stares at her, waiting for her to have some kind of reaction. Maybe break down into a puddle of emotions.

Honestly she's bone tired of that, riding him all night sounds like a much better use of her time and energy.

"I'm wet enough to end a drought." She replies dryly, tugging the zipper as far as it'll go before stepping out of the restricting article of clothing. Naked smooth legs rubbing against the couch, he follows her movement like a lion stalking its prey.

"What?" His eyes dart down to her newly revealed panties, peering between her legs as if to check the accuracy of her statement.

"Oh, we're not just stating random facts?" She teases playing with the thin straps of her tank top the only thing preserving her remaining dignity.

"What do you want from me?" He looks nervous now, her first time seeing such an expression on that stoic face. It's an easy question to answer though she doesn't even need to think about it.

"Fuck me until I can't think straight."

She will have to deal with the emotions bubbling up beneath the surface, address her complicated relationship and feelings for her father, admit the role that she played in his untimely demise by helping those bastards for years but right now none of that matters, all that matters is the ache between her legs. She wants to stop being guilty for one night.

"Can you do that?" She looks at him pleading, and he peers back she can see the thoughts rolling over in his head and as the seconds drag on longer than she'd anticipated she wonders if she misjudged, maybe she should have accosted her bumbling intern but she'd been terrified he'd want an actual relationship- that was the last thing she was looking for.

She starts to plot how exactly she can seduce him when he unzips his own suit, making her gasp when her eyes land on smooth bare skin his six pack glistens with the light sheen of sweat coating it.

"You wore nothing under? You slut." The corner of his lip lifts in amusement before he stalks over to her, shoving her back onto the cushion and crushing her with his weight she eagerly welcomes it with open arms. Picking up right where he left off her cups her breasts running twin large thumbs across the pebbled skin, it feels good but not quite enough through the cloth of her tank top. Impatiently she shoves the material down baring herself to him, he looks at her with heated eyes before grabbing the naked flesh, twisting the hard points before swallowing her without warning.

She jolts at the sensation, arching into his wet suckling then pushing his head down onto her and whining as he runs his teeth against the swollen mounds. She wraps her legs around his waist grinding into the hard erection jutting from his tight boxer briefs. Only he would have Versace boxers, if he wasn't thoroughly dismantling her she would be ribbing him. Pompous jack ass. Harshly pulling him away from her chest she stares at his face, his eyes are glossy and his lips are red and shiny, he looks like sin. Sexy pompous jack ass.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks her stupidly and she tugs her shirt over her head before lifting up and pulling down her panties, completely nude underneath him. She doesn't get stage fright.

"Are you sure? Can you handle it?" She bites out rocking her naked pussy over his clothed hardness and he hisses at the motion, something foreign falling from his lips. Immediately it makes her hot, boiling hot admittedly him speaking Italian is a thing for her, even when he's cursing at her and his spittle is flying everywhere. Fucking sexy as hell. It turns her wild in his lap, grounding onto him until his boxers are completely drenched from her a dark spot forming. This time he grabs her, forcing her down to bite at her neck before swallowing the moans from her tongue.

They twist around each other like serpents, tongues and bodies entwined. He's running his hands through her hair, tugging at the strands and using them to reign her in whenever she breaks free to gasp for air. Her hips are relentless as she grinds onto him, never pausing as he rubs against her swollen clit lust drunk as arousal consumes her brain. The smack of the elastic of his boxers snaps her back to lucidity and when she peers down she sees his long rigid pole, standing at attention the waist band of his boxers just under his heavy balls.

He grabs her hips before sliding through the sopping wet fold of her center and she screams at the intense pleasure that quakes through her body, all her synapses are firing off simultaneously. All connected to the spot deep instead her core.

"You got us....ahhh this far. You...hmmm finish it." He can barely get the words out groaning and thrusting up to meet her downward grind and she doesn't need to be told twice, she grabs the base of his thick cock rubbing the blunt head at her entrance once, twice before lifting higher and holding him tightly as she slides down, down onto him until his balls are nuzzling her bottom. He's big, bigger than she's used to and she whines at the burning stretch, muscle sore from not being used. Pushing through the discomfort she drags up slowly, carefully before throwing caution to the wind and slamming back down, the slap of their skin connecting loud in the quiet room.

He groans loudly, fingers sinking into her hips as he pounds into her. Not an ounce of gentleness in his plundering of her body. There will be bruises, she's looking forward to it.

He lets her ride him, filthy sounding Italian words falling from his open mouth the rhythm is fast, almost ridiculously so with both of them slamming back together each time they pull apart as if they can't bear the separation. When a particular thrust nudges him perfectly against her clit, she screams scratching down the smooth expanse of his belly, red lines left in her wake. He hisses at the pain but doesn't slow down, yanking her down faster to meet his thrust upwards and it feels so good she collapses onto his chest, drooling from the intense pleasure. She feels his fingers twist in the thick cord of her hair before her head is drawn back, "You look like you're still thinking, I'm not fucking hard enough."

He's smirking. She knows what she looks like, she's basically jelly in his arms. She looks shameless, seducing a man she barely knows and letting him fuck her like this on a couch. Her head lolls in his hand and she almost misses the small smile that stretches across his lips before he sits up and pushes her out of his lap, she cries out at the sudden departure but seconds later he pushes her over the arm of the couch, spreading her thighs, sticking a long finger inside her and humming in satisfaction at the sloshing moisture before slamming back in.

"Ti piace quello?" (Do you like that?) She doesn't have the slightest idea what he said but she moans anyway, nodding frantically. He switches back to Korean whispering into her ear, "If I'd have known this was all it took to shut you up I would have done this much sooner." This time she hisses at him, curling her hand around his neck and bringing them face to face, twisted over her own shoulder. He fucks her as they breath the same air, mouths wide open as they pant into each other. Reaching under her he thumbs at her breasts, she jumps at the dual sensation mind heady as he pounds into her over and over again.

When he brings one hand down her expertly finding her clit and rubbing at it ardently she loses her mind, gasping and sputtering about; her body tingling as he assaults her from all angles his cock big and piercing inside of her.

"Say my name."

She's too busy losing her goddamn mind, the arm rest the sole thing keeping her afloat then he growls from behind her, squeezing her breast in perfect synchrony as he thrusts deep inside her and his fingers play her clit like a violin, she wails tightening around him as she feels a red hot burn from deep inside her bursting to the surface. She's so close.

"Say my fucking name." He demands slapping at her ass cheek and she arches at the stinging blow, her back curving beautifully.

"Vincenzo!" With barely any air in her lungs she rasps out, hoarse and breathless. He grabs her neck, pulling her back taut she shivers under the rough treatment.

"Again."

He curls his hands around her neck, not quite cutting off her airway but making it harder to breathe. She feels light-headed but then he releases and air rushes to her lungs, he groans as she melts further onto his hardness every inch of him encased in her.

"Vincenzo," she begs, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Questa figa è mio." (This pussy is mine.) He whispers darkly, the bastard knows what he's doing, that smug grin on his face confirms it but her body reacts regardless lighting up like a Christmas tree for her. Her body is one giant pleasure point and he is pushing all of her buttons, one by one.

She feels like she's going to explode but just when she's on the edge, so close to the precipice seconds away from falling over and reaching nirvana he stops, the bastard. He stops everything, pulling out of her achingly slow until she's empty and unsatisfied she growls in frustration spinning around with fire and brimstone in her eyes.

"I've thought about fucking you. A lot. It can't end too soon." She glances down at his burgeoning hard on swinging between them, ahhh so she wasn't the only one about to explode. Interesting. But her throbbing center feels no sympathy, too upset about the premature stop of pleasure.

"I didn't think Italians were the type to leave a woman unsatisfied. Next time I'll fin--" She never gets to complete her sentence because he slaps a large hand over her mouth.

"St 'zitto." (Shut up.) He barks and her face is drenched in a familiar downpour, he was definitely cursing at her but before she can retaliate he's lifting her off the couch, forcing her legs around his slim waist. She latches onto his shoulder for balance too, rubbing her naked chest against him enticingly ready to start back where they left of.

"If you want me to understand you need to speak Korean. Translate." She complains and he slams her into a wall causing her to cry out as her back hits the hard surface, his hand is large around her head softening that blow gratefully.

"I think you understand well enough."

He stares directly into her eyes, reaching down to force her legs further apart and before he can move she forces her feet into the dimples of his knee, he tumbles forward and with that momentum she sheathes him once more purring at the burn and stretch. He slams her hands above her head and she snaps her teeth at him, aggressively thrusting forward onto his cock forcing him to drill deeper into her.

She gasps when he unexpectedly grabs her wrists in one hand and twists them behind her back. She tugs, but his grip is too tight. Too powerful. She can't move not without his permission.

"What are you doing?" She groans fighting his hold without success.

Leaning forward he tugs her ear lobe into his scorching mouth, feeding the words straight into the organ. "You're still thinking. I'm not doing a good job."

She opens her mouth to scoff but the sounds shrivels up and dies when he slams her up the wall, sliding out before dropping her and impaling her on his thick column, his hand tightens on her wrists as she fights to break free. He does it again, driving deeper and harder and her screams are breathless and soundless, all she can do is feel. He ravishes her chest, swallowing the swollen buds and biting at the ruddy tips until her chest is sore and wet with his spit. With her wrist behind her back he steps back, placing her back on the wall and creating an angle to better fuck into her, loud smacks filling the air every time he plunges in, hammering at her walls with singular focus. She's a whimpering mess, high pitched sighs all that she can produce.

"Cha-young ssi?" He seductively whispers in her ears, she can barely hear him over the blood rushing to her head but she nods, groaning in response his thrusts are relentless and unyielding. Why isn't his brain mush too?

"Who's pussy is this?" Her brain stutters at the question, she's only heard things like that in American porn. Never had words like that uttered to her by a partner, if she did she would laugh in their face and promptly leave. But he looks deadly serious as he awaits her reply. Slowing down his movements, but grinding deeper circling on her clit with each languid motion. She really wants to fucking come. He's such an unnecessary tease.

Swallowing her pride, she mentally curses her pussy this was all its fault.

When he starts to stop she panics and tightens her legs around his him, shouting, "Yours! It's your pussy!"  Goddamit, why did he have to be this persistent? It was his for tonight. 

It's the right answer, he lets her come.

Multiple times.

Until her toes curl and her legs feel like jelly.

She doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the night, even when he breaks her apart and she blacks out and falls asleep, bad dreams chase her but he fucks her awake preemptively cutting off those thoughts too. Turning her screams of terror into screams of pleasure.

This time she puts his ties to good use, one bounding his wrists together and another wrapped around his eyes.

Tomorrow, she'll face reality. Tonight is for bad ideas.

What's a one night stand between enemies?

[0risha]

➵ @tsykosim asked for a side dish - fluff // - fem poc (she/they) katsuki bakugou // song: streets (slowed) by doja cat

➵ chef's note : uhhh I actually like this lol I hope you do too sim!! I know the event is over but I still have a few more requests to post

300 event with @kazekugisaki (check out her works)

— p. s. this event is now closed 😤

Bakugou Katsuki is probably the most aggravating boy you’ve ever met, with his never-ending bursts of temper, his venom-laced words that flew out like second nature(maybe because it was), and his complex that was too indecipherable to put an exact label on. But the downside of it all -probably the biggest one of your life- was that he was the prettiest. Around U.A, apart from his temper, he’s known for his looks, said to match with his flames; hot and all of those other endearing terms. 

He was, but there were things that bled through. Little habits that he allowed you and only you, to see. The most surprising, jaw-dropping, one that you’d found was his hidden green thumb.

You stumbled across it by pure accident. It was a study date, one that you had offered after the first three months of you both being together. You hated studying but it was worth going through the turbulence because it was something the boy you liked, loved.

Mitsuki had greeted you at the door with a wide smile, like always. You remember your sense of confusion when she told you that her good-for-nothing son was stationed outside in their backyard. That day, it’d been raining and Bakugou despised training in the rain. The accumulation of sweat and rain was only fit for a sick bastard, he told you after a day Aizawa made you all run laps under pouring rain.  

So, you turned away with a smile of thanks and made your way to the Bakugo’s backyard. 

When you saw Katsuki hunched over three beds of a variety of plants with rain covers, your first reaction wasn’t one of shock. To be honest, it was a shiver of fear that frosted your spine. 

You made an attempt to turn back. You didn’t want him to see that you had found out one of his secrets. You knew it was a secret, it had to be. He didn’t share this with you when you sent him that 20+ questions text Mina forwarded to you, you had no idea that he had loved plants. You knew it was love, it was frighteningly obvious, you saw it in his content expression. His usual glare was nonexistent too, a ghost of a smile replacing it. 

You’d already been surprised to the utmost level that day, but it reached different heights when he called you over, his smile wider than before. You nearly burst into tears when he patted a patch of concrete next to him, motioning for you to sit, and lectured you on every single plant he had. 

Bakugou Katsuki was full of surprises. 

That thought had followed you for months. It ran rampant in your mind when he first gave you a finely prepared bento box. It ran rampant when he offered you a gleaming necklace with an emblem of a silver flame that laid prettily on your collarbone, and now as you both shared a kiss. 

With no mistake, you guys had kissed several times. Whether it be stolen ones, barely-there ones, or silly ones, there were only ones you initiated. It was fine with you, you enjoyed the surprised looks and flustered cheeks but this, this feeling that wrapped its gentle claws in your every crevice was none like before. 

His lips were pillowy soft, you knew this, you’d felt them many times before. His breath was one of prior mint gum, you also knew this, he ran his mouth too much not to. You reveled in his scent which contrary to popular belief was one of lavender. That familiar, soothing smell that clung to his skin. His favorite plant were lavenders, you knew this too. He even had a collection of lavender scents he shared with you. Maybe it was because of what it symbolized; that admirable, visible devotion that followed Katsuki wherever he went. 

But the notable change in this kiss, initiated by him, was a mystery. As corny as it sounded, you guessed it to be what love was, a compelling magnet that was a mystery to all. And when you detached your lips from his, that same magnet had you pulling back, to again, encompass his lips with yours. 

“What was that all about,” you giggled, raising a hand to brush past your swollen lips. 

“You were distracted,” he grunts, ruby eyes digging into yours.

“Oh,” you whisper, turning away. Now, he was flustering you, his gaze was hot and heavy and filled you with unimaginable tales.

“Was just thinking about you.” You confess, wiggling your toes as a source of distraction. With that, you glance to the side to gauge his reaction.

“Really?” He raised a brow. “Well, that’s to be expected.” 

With an eye roll, you raise your hand to give his shoulder a shove but before you can, he grabs it and pulls you closer to him. “What were you thinking about?” Your eyes flutter shut as his nose brushes past your own. 

“How pretty you are,” you smile and it turns sickeningly sweet when his cheeks flush with red.

“I’m not pretty,” he grunts while a sneer pulls his top lip. “How the hell am I pretty?” 

With bated breath, you scan his face. How was Bakugou pretty? To you, you tied his pretty features to moments. The way his eyes would light up when you gulped down his bento boxes with no hesitance. 

The way he smiled that proud smile when you paired his necklace with every outfit you could. Maybe it was how, at times, he forgot to shield his emotions when he was with you, his chain mail of pride discarded elsewhere when he held your hands in his. It could’ve been the way his movements became serene when he bonded with his plants. 

Truthfully, it was probably all of them together; carefully thrown in a melting pot to make your Bakugo Katsuki.

But he didn’t have to know that, at least, not now.

“I’ll tell you later.”

[readyplayerhobi]

Neon Seoul

; Cyberpunk Detective!Jimin x Detective!Reader

; Genre: Angst, smut, slight fluff

; Word Count: 25.7k

; Warnings: Murder, crime scene, discussions of crime and homicide, criminal gang activity, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

; Synopsis: It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important.

You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?

; A/N: I enjoyed writing this so much! I hope everyone enjoys it :3 it’s more cinematic style than normal so I hope you stick with it and that it’s fun to read! Please reblog if you enjoyed it and leave me feedback or reviews! Or send me an ask :D Also...I fully admit to not proof-reading this lol sorry about any mistakes!

-

The streets of New Seoul are dark tonight, the only form of lighting coming from the overly bright neon signage that screams for attention on every building. Hundreds of signs for thousands of promises, some real and some as real as the holo advertisements that rise like giants alongside the towers that rise so high, the tips vanish into the smog that hovers like a persistent malaise.

You could get everything your heart desired in 26th century New Seoul; from a warm body to keep you company at night to a quiet contract that would eliminate your foes. Nothing was legal and yet everything was legal. You just had to know the right people who knew the right people who knew the right loopholes.

Maybe it was some quirk in the law that meant they were able to flout their ability to wreak havoc in front of the police, or maybe it was simply that they had enough credits that they had important members of police in their pockets. It didn’t matter. People in this end of New Seoul did the dirty work for the people who lived in those tall towers, the building’s not so much ivory as the old metaphor went but more black with the years of rampant air pollution and dirt.

Moving your gaze from the neon visual assault to the ground, you grimaced slightly as you noted the disgusting street beneath your boots. Puddles of dirty water pooled along the uneven surfaces, filling every crevice they could find and the overwhelming stench of the garbage that had been unceremoniously thrown out of the building’s added to your distaste.

The water here was probably infected with something, it was that dirty. Glancing around the grimy back alley, you inhaled deeply and wrinkled your nose as you instantly regretted it. Even the nasal implants you’d been given once you’d graduated from the police academy struggled to filter out the sheer stench of whatever the hell was lining the streets in those bin liners. 

2621 and yet still, cities couldn’t control the waste system properly. Though what did you expect, given New Seoul hosted a population of over 75 million right now. Millions upon millions of people, crammed into the Mega City that had sprawled across the land slowly, swallowing up the smaller cities that stood in its path and obliterating the towns and villages.

You could travel for hours in either direction from here and still be in this godforsaken city. Sighing deeply, you heard a sudden gurgling to your left, the sound quiet yet instantly notable to your enhanced hearing over the quiet sound of investigatory conversation. A quick look over has you almost gagging, spotting a sewer grate that was bubbling to itself happily, as if it was some sweet brook with clean and crisp flowing water in a forest somewhere instead of the pure sewage it was spilling.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Can someone sort out the fucking sewer problem before it contaminates even more of the fucking crime scene?” You spat out, anger flowing through your veins as you gazed at the grate. It was almost mesmerising, in a completely disgusting way, how the water was so brown and thick that it almost struggled to flow. 

Turning away, you tried hard to control your gag reflex. It would not do for the senior detective on the investigation to vomit on the crime scene and contaminate it. Not only because you’d just complained over the sewer for that but also because it would just be fucking embarrassing.

The small alley was particularly dark compared to the rest of the city, the signage that was so prominent only really visible from the ends that led out into the bigger streets. No one would really bother wasting the money or time on a shitty alley like this. Literally, a shitty alley apparently.

There was still prominent neon though, only in the form of the holographic police barriers that had been erected, warning the public of an open crime scene. The yellow barriers hummed ever so slightly as you stood near it, the signage changing repeatedly from ‘POLICE’ to ‘CRIME SCENE’ to ‘PLEASE STAY BACK’. There were a few other messages in there but you’d seen them enough times to not even really notice anymore.

A few curious members of the public, whether they were residents of the buildings surrounding you or simple vagrants who called this alley home, and the idea of that made your stomach lurch, were stood just past the barriers. They wouldn’t come close to it. The only reason the barrier hummed was because it was being powered by a generator, the holographic barrier’s capable of accessing a person’s chip ID that resided in their neck.

If they were listed as being an active member of the police force, or other emergency services, then they were allowed through. If they were not...well, let’s just say it hurt. 

A hovercar landed at the end of the alley, the sound soft as it descended but becoming loud and prominent the closer to the ground it got. Safety precautions meant they couldn’t just make it completely silent. That was the quickest way to flatten some kid or idiot. Though in fairness, there were plenty of people you could think of that you wouldn’t mind getting flattened.

Still though, the tall figure climbing out of it was expected, hence why you were currently still standing outside of the crime scene instead of in it. The idiot was late, as usual. Probably spending his evening fucking some synth in the pleasure house near his apartment. There was nothing wrong with that obviously, you engaged in the services of the synthetic androids yourself, but it gurgled in the pit of your stomach that he’d chosen to stick his dick in one of those instead of you.

You’d like to say he didn’t know your feelings, but you knew he did. He hadn’t made it to detective without actually having some deducting skills, and you weren’t exactly being shy about wanting him. In fairness, no one was shy about wanting him. Detective Park Jimin was indeed a delectable specimen of a human male.

Walking closer, you heard the careful thudding of his black boots on the dirty cement, the two inch thick soles giving him even more height above you despite the fact that he wore the same police issue boots you did. Metal was firmly embedded in the toes of them, allowing you to kick the shit out of anything you needed to without harming your feet.

It just made him look more attractive though. The fronts of those boots laced up high, far past his ankle and tight black trousers clung to his beautiful thighs. You’d fantasised about those thighs many times in many different ways. A belt with an assortment of holders sat prettily around that thin waist of his, his gun holstered firmly while other important items such as a torch and so forth were also firmly put away.

A black shirt that shifted colour ever so slightly to give it an intriguing metallic look was covered by his usual black coat, the long leather that reached his knees adorned with an abundance of pockets and metal, the buttons in odd places while the coat itself was covered with silver symbols and illustrations that glowed, sinuously flowing from one symbol into another as he moved. The collar of his jacket was high, hiding the outline of his jaw as he walked up to you.

You could barely make out Jimin’s face in the darkness of the alley as he approached, the only thing visible at the moment was the vivid, glowing blue tips of his hair, shifting slightly in the breeze. He’d chosen over the last few months to grow out his luxurious black hair, the look makin him particularly rugged as he constantly looked like he’d just had the wildest sex. On top of that, he’d had the ends of his hair dyed with a cybernetic pigment which resulted in the unnatural neon glow, the tips already shifting colour from blue to a smooth purple. 

It looked good on him, and you most definitely approved. Not that he’d give a shit.

Finally he stood before you, a deep sigh leaving him as the yellow lighting of the barrier finally lit up his face for you. It gave him an oddly yellow cast, making his skin look sallow and unwell but you couldn’t deny that he was still beautiful.

Black geometric tattoos crawled up from beneath his shirt and coat, making their way up his strong neck with the right side creeping up his face as well. A swirl of thick black was painted up the side of his cheek, directly where his jawline met his ear and hairline before it burst into smaller lines, curling almost elegantly above his brow. It was one of the prettier facial tattoos you’d seen, and you weren’t sure saying that because it was him.

A black metal piercing studded the centre of the skin below his plush, pink lower lip. Besides from the abundance of piercings in his ears, that was the only other piercing you believe that he had. His left eye, under actual lighting, was it’s natural deep brown whereas his right eye was a cybernetic augmentation, the iris a highly unnatural vivid, neon pink that often bordered on magenta. 

He’d received the augmentation, along with a cybernetic arm, after an arrest had gone severely wrong when the suspect had detonated a homemade explosive, resulting him losing his natural eye along with also losing his right arm at the same time. It came in useful for him as it gave him access to the police database on the go, along with being able to identify people and record incidents with certain muscle movements. And that was to say nothing of the benefits the artificial arm gave him.

“You’re late.” You say shortly, looking up at your partner with an imperious eye as you drag your gaze down his body. He doesn’t look like he’d been interrupted mid-coitus, but you never knew with him. Jimin always liked to look prim and proper.

“Some people actually fucking sleep. Given it’s 3 in the morning, you know.” Rolling your eyes, you gestured for him to enter the crime scene and pulled a face at his back once he’d passed. You had a reputation to keep up, and that didn’t involve letting him see you being childish. Though you were, and he was probably well aware of that after five years of working together.

As Jimin passed through the barrier, the back of his coat immediately lit up with holographic text in bright blue, proclaiming ‘POLICE’. The same would have happened for you when you moved through the barrier as well, letting everyone inside know that Jimin and you were the investigative unit.

“So what is it? A junker? Sex worker? Some rando on the street?” He asked, standing over the top of the body. Almost immediately, it was clear to see that all of his queries were incorrect. The male on the floor was wearing fabric that was top of the range, a style that normally would be shifting patterns and colours. His dead body wasn’t producing the electricity required to power it anymore though, so it just looked like a very nice black button up right now.

Still, it was clear his outfit cost money. From the style to the fabric to even the design. It was only what those who could afford could wear. In fact, the victim’s clothing probably cost more than this whole street made in a week. On top of that, the old style wristwatch, an actual watch that ticked and told time and everything, looked to be ancient and the brand made your brows rise. 

That alone would pay your apartment’s rent for a year probably.

“No. Victim is Kim Namjoon. Son of Kim Minhyuk and Seo Jihyo. Yes...that Kim Minhyuk.” You said when Jimin’s brows rose as he looked at you sharply, his eyes narrowing until all you could see was a sliver of brown and pink.

“The fuck was the son of the mayor doing in this shithole? And not just this shithole, but this literal, particular shithole. I highly doubt the towers would want to spend their time here. I mean sure, idiots like this one might come to this part of the city as a dare or just for a wild night. But there’s nothing around here but residential buildings?” Jimin speculated, brow creasing as he poked his cheek with his tongue.

“You’re wrong, on a few things. First of all, towers,” You used the lower city slang for the rich and powerful who spent their lives in the towers that reached beyond the smog that hovered over New Seoul. “Are surprisingly common around here. You’re right in that they’re normally here just for a night on the rough side of town, but they’re not rare. And this isn't at all residential. There’s an underground casino just down the road. I have it on good authority that he was there.”

“The fuck? How do you know that? You don’t live here. And if you know where he was then what are we doing here? You obviously know how he died.” Jimin scoffs, leaning over to examine the victim’s corpse carefully. Grinding your teeth, you inhale deeply before letting it out slowly.

“Okay Park. Firstly, you too know how he died. It’s pretty obvious given, you know, the laser shot to his forehead. I’ve yet to encounter anyone who can withstand one of those. And secondly, I know because he wasn’t alone,” You gesture down the other end of the alley where another hovercar is parked, the door open and an elegant man sat in it. A few officers stood around, keeping watch.

“What? Who is he? Why aren’t we arresting him and questioning him?” He goes to start walking down the alley, his face grim and you grab his arm, pulling him to a firm halt. When he’s facing you, you gesture down to the Crime Scene Analyst currently crouched over the body.

“Jeon, what’ve you got for us. Please inform Detective Park here why it’s impossible his friend was the culprit.” Wide, dark eyes look up from beneath thick, curly black hair, a piercing cutting through one of the strong black brows on his forehead. Officer Jeon Jungkook had been a CSA for the New Seoul PD for over six years now and he knew what he was doing. Thankfully, that meant Jimin trusted him too.

The CSA stands, towering over both you and Jimin before he taps a metal circle implanted into his hand. A holographic simulation of the alley begins to glow above his hand in white, Kim Namjoon’s body outlined in violet. Other areas are red and you look around to try and identify those areas.

Jungkook’s eyes are the only thing visible about his face, the lower half covered in a black mask with two air filters poking out of the side. It was standard crime scene procedure for him, but you knew he enjoyed wearing it anyway. Long hair that was half wet curls around his face while his own black leather coat is equally covered in glittering silver outlines and illustrations. Black piercings liberally dot his ears, including a piercing at the upper shell of his ear with a slim black chain that connects to a piercing on his ear lobe. 

His hands are ungloved and you can see the start of black tattoos winding around his wrist. He was another one who was ungodly attractive, and it was made even worse by the fact that it was all natural. You’d known Jeon Jungkook since he’d joined the police academy at the fresh age of 18, his skin untouched at the time.

All that had happened over the years had been a careful refinement of already pretty features, solely from age and maturity. You realise that you’re too busy admiring the CSA when Jimin elbows you, not even the slightest bit subtly either. Glaring at him, you note his narrowed eyes and roll you own in response.

“The victim was killed with a single laser shot to the forehead, as Detective Y/L/N said. It was point blank range with the suspect wearing a size 11 boot. The treadmark indicates it was most likely either a Villainous or Pandemic boot, though I will need to do more in depth research to give you a more accurate reading. Mr Kim Seokjin, the witness over there, was standing behind the victim and to the right. He grabbed the victim as he fell, there’s DNA evidence on the victims shoulders. It’s impossible for him to have been the one to be the suspect. The witnesses' footprints come from that end of the alley and stop there, behind the victim. They never move around to the front. The other footprints come from the other end, stop in the front of the victim and make their way back.” He gives the report briskly, making sure to only include information that he can back up with evidence.

As he talks, he generates holographic figures on the street simulation, their feet matching the glowing red imprints. Kim Seokjin is in green, his own footprints backing up Jungkook’s words while the suspect is in red, walking in and taking out the victim with ease.

Humming lightly, you run your finger over your lip before glancing over at Jimin. “This...I know we’re not meant to make a speculation here but...a tower? In this area? In this alley? Getting murdered like this?”

“You mean the fact that this is the most blatant case of a hit killing you’ve ever seen? Yeah, I get you. That looks like the movements of an expert killer there. And there's clear motive behind it, even if we don’t know what that is right now. Mayor Kim isn’t exactly popular nowadays and he’s made plenty of enemies throughout the years. Some legitimate and some simply because he’s a person in power. Hitting him through his son is a clear and easy way to get to him.” Jimin muses to himself quietly, though you’re thankful he lets you into his mindset as well. 

After all, you are his partner.

“Maybe. We can’t rule anything out, you know that,” Looking at Jungkook, you point towards the body on the alley ground. “Jeon, can you make sure we get a full autopsy report? I want to make sure that we have all grounds covered. This is going to blow up with the towers, you know that.” 

The CSA nods once, the movement brisk. He turns away from you, noting something down on his holo report that has replaced the visual of the alley he’d been showing you both. Taking a deep breath, you make a face as the overwhelming scent hits you once more before looking at Jimin.

“Come on, let’s take the witness back to the station. I don’t think he’s going to give us a very good statement right now with his best friend lying dead on the alley. I think a change of scenery will probably do him some good, right?” Jimin is still looking around the alley slowly, almost as if he’s trying to find more evidence.

You don’t push him not to though, letting him spend as much time as he wants observing the scene of the crime. As good as Jungkook’s skills were, sometimes the CSA missed something. But you don’t have to wait long though as soon enough, Jimin is striding up to you with a neutral expression on his pretty face.

“I don’t think there’s anything else here for us to look at. We’ll have to wait for the report later but I think Jungkook’s found near enough everything already. Let’s go talk to our witness.”

-

The room that Kim Seokjin was being brought into had luxuriously soft couches and armchairs spread throughout along with low, black glass coffee tables. The walls were covered in old style photographs, the scenes portrayed of vistas that had died centuries ago. Instead of the customary vending machine with its nauseously bright holo-screen, there was a fancy machine in solid black, the options available on a touch screen that could be activated.

“So this is what seniority gets you, huh?” Jimin asks with a snort, his gaze tracking around the room slowly just as yours was. This was the break room for the senior members of the police department, those who had spent years working their way up the chain of command. Or working their way up something.

You could never be sure who had earnt their rank through genuine means and who just worked their way through the people they knew to get their ranking. The chief was certainly one of those who was in his place only because he was well acquainted with the powerful people in New Seoul.

So unsurprisingly, this break room looked nothing like the room that you and your fellow officers frequented when time allowed. Your room was filled with couches whose cushions had lost their softness long ago, the plastic creaking and breaking while chips and gashes abounded. And you didn’t even want to talk about the stains.

Understandable that they didn’t want Kim Seokjin interviewed there given his status, though why he was being interviewed anywhere outside of an actual interview room. Although even then, you realise why that’s the case. Those rooms are just cement squares with a metal table in the middle, not exactly the kind of place you interview such a high class witness.

“I think we should raid the vender, imagine what kinda high class shit they’ve got in here.” You whisper to him, smirking as you wiggle your eyebrows at him. Jimin gives a small life before nodding with a smile, turning to welcome the newcomer who has entered the room, waving off the officer who’d brought Kim Seokjin in.

“Hello, I’m Detective Park and this is Detective Y/L/N. Would you like something to drink? Or maybe something to eat before we get started? I would recommend something for you, you’re probably experiencing shock and we want to make you as comfortable as possible.” Jimin says, his voice incredibly diplomatic as he smiles a welcome to Kim Seokjin.

He sits at Jimin’s request, giving an awkward smile that doesn’t look remotely genuine. But the hollowness and shock behind his eyes tells you why and you feel sympathy bloom within you. There’s a brief moment of hesitation before Jimin’s words obviously filter through and he nods slowly.

“Yes, please, thank you. Just...a tea. Please. Hot.” Nodding yourself, you input the request into the machine before adding your own requests as well. Everything is produced onto a useful, clear plastic tray and you take it over before placing it on the low table with a gentle smile.

You’d got yourself a glass of water and Jimin his usual energy drink, the can’s design changing every few seconds to some new holo picture of some extreme sport. There’s also a simple glazed doughnut on a small plate, causing Seokjin to frown in confusion.

“The sugar will help with the shock. And it’ll help you to feel a little more stable.” Seokjin looks down at the baked good blankly before nodding, giving a small thanks before taking a bite. It’s not big, and he seems to chew almost mechanically.

“Please accept our apologies for what’s happened Mr Kim, we can’t even begin to understand what you’ve been through.” Jimin says, his voice low with compassion for the traumatised witness in front of him. Despite your partner's sarcasm, he’s always been good with the witnesses.

“Now, I don’t want this to sound callous but we’d like to get what you witnessed down on record as soon as possible, while it’s still...fresh.” You say gently, a compassionate smile painting itself on your face when you see the fresh pain in Seokjin’s eyes. He nods in acknowledgement and you press the band on your wrist, inputting a few details into the holoscreen before setting up the audio and visual recorder.

“This is Detective Y/L/N Y/N and Detective Park Jimin, Case 619-219-325. Interview with witness, Kim Seokjin. Mr Kim, for the purpose of the record, I will read you your rights, you are not under arrest or suspicion at this time.” You go on to read him his rights, the standard procedure for any interview nowadays and are relieved when he simply nods.

Some witnesses got angry, thinking they were a suspect suddenly, but it was standard operating protocol for the New Seoul Police Department. Jimin took over for you as soon as you’d finished.

“Can you please tell us what happened tonight? Start from a few hours beforehand if possible, lead us up to the moment when it happened. Try and remember as much as you can but don’t worry if you can’t.”

Seokjin nods slowly, taking a deep swallow of tea before letting out a breath and continuing.

“Namjoon had spent the day shadowing his dad and wanted to blow off some steam. He’s not normally the one to ask that so I suggested we…” He looks embarrassedly at you both. “I suggested that we go slumming. I’m sure you know what that means. We’ve done it before, frequently enough that we have favourite places. So we headed to a club a few blocks from our tower to start out, had a few drinks there with our mutual friend, Min Yoongi. Yoongi told us about this new casino that had opened in the city. It was...in one of the more shady areas of town, which always makes it a bit more fun. I know that sounds really bad but..”

“It’s fine, we’ve heard worse.” You comfort him, smiling gently. He looks awkward but carries on at your insistence.

“The casino was okay, we spent a few hours there. There was a cute guy that Namjoon had his eye on but it turned out that he was taken so both of us were out of luck. We lost more credits than I’d like to admit we lost. Turns out we’re not as good at gambling in those areas as the people who live there.” He gives a lopsided smile, filled with sadness.

Yeah, no shit, you think to yourself. That’s because the people that live there gamble for their lives, of course they’re better than a tower who’s just throwing money around. They probably took them for all their money, and then some.

“Anyway, after Namjoon got bored of losing we decided to leave. We were just going to head back home honestly. We’d both had a long day, pretty tiring. I just wanted to go to bed, I was meant to be travelling to New York tomorrow...today, for business. We...we couldn’t find an aircar that was free. In fact, there were barely any aircar’s around there at all, so we decided to walk for a bit to somewhere a little busier.”

A quick glance at Jimin has you realising that you’re both probably thinking the same thing. That it’s a goddamn miracle both of them weren’t killed just for being on the streets. You simply didn’t walk around those areas at that time of night.

“We checked the map of where the nearest transit station was, thinking that might have a free aircar or something. Or we could even use the transit and that’s why we went down the alley. We were halfway down, laughing about Namjoon losing this game earlier on and then suddenly...there was this guy standing there in front of us. He didn’t say anything, and...I couldn’t see him properly. The light...I’m sorry.” He breaks off, pressing his thumbs into his eyes as he bows his head. Neither Jimin nor you say anything for a moment, letting him compose himself again before he speaks.

His eyes are a little more watery now, his voice tighter and husky.

“He err...all I could really see was that he had this...spiked black mask on. Like a ventilator that people like to wear, but with these silver spikes on it. Err...I think his hair was black? He had no colour in it. In fact...his whole outfit was just...black leather. Nothing holo, nothing fancy. He didn’t stand out at all. He just...was standing there, which was weird as there hadn’t been anyone in the alley. We wouldn’t have gone in otherwise.” Seokjin stops once more, looking down at his half finished tea.

“This guy...just...stood there for a minute. Namjoon was slightly in front of me and well...we didn’t know what we were meant to do. We’ve never been mugged before. But then he just...lifted his hand and pointed at Namjoon. Pointed at him? But then there was this...popping noise and this purple flash. Then Namjoon was on the ground, the guy gone. And...I just...I freaked out. I called the cops and...yeah. I don’t understand. He didn’t even say anything? He didn’t even look at me?” His voice is broken as he whispers, the tears slowly falling to trail down his face.

He looked tired and worn out, the dark circles beneath his eyes even more prominent than when he’d begun talking and his soft brown eyes were now dark with unhidden pain. Perfectly dyed, platinum blonde hair was mussed on top of his head, becoming more so when he runs his fingers through it once more before gripping the strands in frustration.

Kim Seokjin is an attractive man, a clear product of centuries of careful breeding by his ancestors. Pink lips are plump and lush, his skin perfectly clear and untouched by augmentations or tattoos. Broad shoulders hold his elegant jacket perfectly and you don’t need to be rich to know that his clothes, the same material that Namjoon’s had been, were perfectly tailored. 

But despite how beautiful he was, despite the money he came from and the money he would go on to make, he still looked like every other human being when someone they treasured was taken from them in such a violent manner. He looked like part of him had broken earlier this evening.

“We’re very sorry for your loss Mr Kim. And that you had to witness it. Is there...anything else you might remember? Anything that sticks out about him?” Seokjin considers it slowly, obviously turning the questions over in his mind as he goes through the memory once more. You hate to make him think about it again, but you never know what he might know.

Finally though, he shakes his head with a deep sigh. “No...I’m sorry. That alley smelled so bad and it was so dark. There was...nothing.”

“That’s understandable. It was hard to see even when we were there and in the spur of the moment, with the shock of it all. Don’t be too hard on yourself Mr Kim, it wasn’t your fault. That’s what you need to remember. It might sound a little harsh but...there was probably nothing that you could do to prevent it. This man...I don’t think there’s anything you could have done.” Jimin looks at you as you place your hand on Seokjin’s squeezing gently in reassurance.

You can tell that your theory of this being a hit is becoming even more solid, and you silently query Jimin as to what you think you should do next. His face twists slightly before giving a slight nod and carrying on.

“I think that might be enough for what happened. If you remember anything in the future, please tell us. You might find that you’ll remember something important at a later date, when you mind is better able to comprehend what happened. Don’t worry if you can’t remember now. If it’s okay though, we’d like to ask you some questions about Namjoon himself?” Jimin taps at his own band, his own holo screen the standard blue neon as he runs through police files to bring up Namjoon’s profile.

All citizens of New Seoul had some kind of profile on the police network, though most people would find it to just be publicly available information. Namjoon, as the son of the mayor, had more than a little information available.

“Yes, yes of course.” Seokjin takes another bite of the doughnut, chewing just as slowly and mechanically. You get the sense he’s not even tasting it properly and you sigh softly, leaning over to Jimin and whispering into his ear.

“I think we need to try and speed this up a little. He looks like he’s going to fall face first into the table. Let’s get a little information and then we can wrap it up and he can go home. If we need more info then we’ll contact him later. It sounds like a bust in terms of the scene anyway.” The words are featherlight, your voice barely audible even to him but he hears you anyway thankfully.

A slight nod is all he gives in response before he looks back at Seokjin, giving him a small smile.

“You first met Namjoon in high school, correct?” Immediately Seokjin is shaking his head, disputing what Jimin is saying.

“No, no we’ve known each other since kindergarten. Our families have known each other a long time. Namjoon was sent abroad to school for a few years and then came back for high school. We both went to King Sejong Private Academy before going to Seoul National University after that. He took a degree in politics with a minor in international relations, I did business management and international relations. He went to Harvard for his post-grad, I went to Oxford. But then we met up again when we were both back here in New Seoul. We’ve been living here for the last five years now since being back.” Jimin nods, updating his information in his file quietly.

“Apologies, our information isn’t usually that thorough. So...you’ve known Namjoon for a while then. Did he ever have anyone who might want to try and hurt him? Anyone who was outwardly aggressive with him?” They were standard questions and Seokjin’s brow furrows as he considers, lips pursing before he shrugs.

“I mean...he’s the mayor’s son? He has the same enemies his dad does. Well, enemies is a harsh word. Political opponents is the polite term in our society. But...they’re not dangerous. At least, not to Namjoon? They might try and assassinate his dad but there’s no need to hurt Namjoon. Although…” He trails off, thoughtful suddenly. “His dad was preparing him for the next mayoral election. Presenting him as his successor. There’s a lot of people who don’t like his dad, and Namjoon...didn’t have the greatest opinion of the augmented. That might not have gelled well with a lot of people?” 

“What do you mean? What were his opinions about the augmented?” You ask, interrupting him. You’re leaning over to look at Jimin’s notes now, running through them to see if there were any notes about this. “I can see that his post-grad dissertation was on the downfall of humanity with the rise of augmentations?”

“Yeah. His dad has a low opinion of augmentations. Thinks they’re ruining humanity, letting the...lower classes get above their station. And there’s a lot of people who think the more augmentations you have then the less of your soul you have. His dad wasn’t that intense about it but...Namjoon started to get that way. His mom was in the Dongdaemun Attack.” Internally you wince. The Dongdaemun Attack had been the New Seoul government had been looking to regulate augmentations twenty years ago. A group of cybernetically augmented anarchists used it as an excuse to get attention to their cause, murdering over five-hundred people.

Namjoon would have only been nine-years-old, an easily influenced age.

“I don’t know why he got so fixated on it recently, we tried to discourage him. I’m not a fan of too much but I think augmentations are people’s own choice you know? Do you think...maybe that was the reason?” Biting your lip, you look at Jimin to see him looking at you with a droll stare.

It was obvious he thought the same as you. That it was highly unlikely that this was motivated by terrorism or anything like that. After all, the killer hadn’t said anything to him. Hadn’t tried to argue his point, hadn’t released anything since or claimed the incident. And there were plenty of people with much worse opinions than Namjoon.

“How deep were these opinions of his? Did he think that maybe augmentations should be banned completely? That people with augmentations are a lower class or anything? Subhuman?” Some people thought like that. It would be hard to see New Seoul electing a mayor with those kinds of views though.

Seokjin shook his head. “No. He just...he didn’t like augmentation. Never got any himself, tried to encourage us to not get any. It was more...I think it was more his spiritual beliefs. Like he was afraid that if humanity keeps going this way then...we’ll get lost or something? I don’t really know. But he wouldn’t ever impose them on others. Namjoon wasn’t like that. Despite what he thought, he believed in freedom of thought too. And freedom of expression.”

“Hmm, okay. It’s a start though. We’ll look into it. Has Namjoon received any...threats that you’re aware of?” Again, he shakes his head in response before twisting his lips.

“No. But I don’t know if he’d tell me that. You might be better looking through his computer at home. There might be something in there, whether he’s deleted it or not. I don’t know. But he’s not been acting afraid or anything so I don’t think so? I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you.” Jimin presses something on his screen before it vanishes, giving Seokjin a smile equally as tired.

“That’s fine, you’ve had...a very rough night. That’s all for the moment. If we have any further questions then we’ll contact you. I think it’s best that you probably go home and rest now.” Seokjin nods jerkily, not moving for a second before taking a final drink of his tea and standing.

“Thank you. For...investigating this. I...I hope you find it. Namjoon...Namjoon was a good man. A really good man. He didn’t deserve this.” He leaves the room surprisingly quickly given how tall and broad he is, his long legs taking him through the break room with ease until he reaches the door.

Once he’s gone, you finish the recording and end it before turning to look at Jimin with raised brows. “So...sounding more like a hit.”

“Yeah, but why? Because he doesn’t like augmentations? That’s not exactly a unique view today. In fact, he’s probably more in the majority now than the minority. Plus, there’s no flag in his file to indicate anything worrisome regarding extreme views, or even that he’s being targeted for those views. I think for the moment, it’s probably more likely to do with his dad.” Jimin leans back with a heavy sigh, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he slouches.

He looks tired, and that reminds you of how tired you are as well. Yawning, you cover your mouth with your hand before letting out your own sigh. Suddenly, your eyes feel heavy with a need to sleep. Understandable, given you haven't slept all day yet.

“Guessing you weren’t asleep when the call came in.” Jimin says suddenly, and when you look at him, you realise that he’s looking directly at you. There’s concern in his face as he scans over you and you give him a lethargic smile, shrugging slowly. Despite his sarcastic nature, you knew that Jimin did care for you and he maintained the same level of concern and protectiveness that you had for him in turn.

That’s what partners did.

“Was finishing up that paperwork from the Kang case.” Lips twisting, Jimin nodded slowly before groaning as he stretched. There were a few pops and cracks from his joints and in the silence of the break room, you can hear the subtle whirring of the machinery in his arm. The arm was covered in synthetic skin, specially designed to mimic his normal skin. He hadn’t wanted the hassle of it, but he hadn’t been awake when they’d fitted his arm properly.

“You know...they make this job look far more glamorous on shows.” He mutters, standing up and finishing off his own energy drink. You wonder if that was really a good idea for him now, given he should probably head back home and go to sleep. Or rather...go back to sleep.

Smirking at him, you stand as well, taking his can and your cup to the recycler before throwing it in. “What? You mean...you don’t think the mountains of paperwork you have to do isn’t glamorous? Just not trying hard enough.”

Leading him out of the senior break room, you feel Jimin poke your waist hard before letting out a snort. “What am I supposed to do? Extravagantly type while fending off a criminal who’s hellbent on destroying the station? Have flirtatious conversations with my file assistant while updating my expenses form?”

“I hope you’re not having flirtatious conversations with your file assistant. Didn’t you choose the cartoon German Shepherd?” He laughs loudly, your boots echoing on the loud halls. You’d expect that at five in the morning, it would be only a skeleton crew on. But this was the police department for New Seoul, one of the biggest cities on the planet.

Night just meant more crime.

“Well, it’d live up to the stereotypes of dashing male detectives who are perpetually horny, right?” Wrinkling your nose, you look at him in disgust.

“Ew.”

“Anyway, you should get home. Get some sleep otherwise you’re going to be the walking dead. And I have more than a little feeling that this is going to be a big case for us. A case that is probably going to have us being hounded by the uppers until we solve this.” Letting out a groan of your own, you pause and twist your lips before running your hands over your eyes.

“Fucking hell. Sorry, I’m the one that picked up the call. And I can’t go home. It’s five, our shift starts at nine and it takes forty-five minutes just for me to get home. I’ll just nap in the bunk room for a few hours.” 

He doesn’t respond for a few more minutes, the silence between you two comfortable from the years of working together. Jimin doesn’t try to argue with you, instead following you to the room lined with bunk beds that could be used by officers and detectives for a quick nap. Most of the time, that meant anyone who’d been working an extra long shift and needed to energise themselves.

But for now, it would allow you to get a few hours sleep before your shift actually started. Because once it did, the real investigative work would begin and you’d both be knee deep in the politics of it all.

Picking a bunk furthest from the door, which hopefully would mean it was furthest from any unfortunate noise, you sit heavily on the bottom bunk with a sigh. Staring down at your knees, you chewed your lip as your mind whirred despite your tiredness. Already you were coming up with theories as to what had happened.

You don’t realise that your eyes have been drifting shut as the adrenaline from the night leaves your body and the comfort of the bed you sit on calls to you strongly. Not until you feel a tugging at your feet, startling you awake once more. 

Looking down with wide eyes, you see it’s your partner, knelt before you as he carefully unlaces your boots. You’re thankful that one of the inventions over the last few centuries had been odourless shoes, because you can’t think of what it would smell like given how many hours you’ve worn these particular boots for. 

Jimin carefully takes them off, leaving you in only your socks before looking up at you with a gentle smile. Without a word, you take off your coat and hand it to him, letting him place it on the hook next to the wall while your boots go in the small cube holder. He takes off his own boots quickly, repeating the movements that you had before sitting on the bed opposite you.

There’s little space between the bunks, quantity more than quality, and his knees press against your own. Looking down, you marvel at how big he is compared to you. You’re not even a small person really, but he just looks...so much more. Part of you knows that you’re just being slightly delirious from the sleep deprivation, having been awake for over 24 hours now. But part of you knows it’s just something you’ve admired about him for a long time.

“Come on supercop, go to sleep.” Jimin says, his voice husky yet soft. You note the folded blanket and fresh pillow he must have grabbed from the supply closet and carefully place the pillow down before curling up beneath the blanket. It feels absurdly warm and comfortable, which is how you know you’re tired because it’s well known the bunk room is basically a cold coffin.

A few familiar beeps cause you to blink blearily at him, noting that he was setting an alarm on his band before he too curls up on his bunk, a deep sigh leaving him as his body relaxes. All you can see right now is the vivid magenta of his cybernetic eye, his dark hair falling into his face prettily while the tips glow yellow.

You’d figure out who killed Kim Namjoon, and you’d do it with the help of Park Jimin, the best detective you’d ever known.

-

The next three days are spent interviewing the friends and family of Kim Namjoon. Jimin and you were waiting on the report from Jungkook about the crime scene and the autopsy report from the pathologist, though you both knew that the reports weren’t going to give you any more information than you already had. 

Jungkook had been pretty clear that there wasn’t likely to be much more evidence he could give you, and from all accounts it had been a clean kill from an efficient suspect. On top of all that, you were left with the frustrating knowledge that Kim Namjoon, while having some views that could have future potential for conflict, was by all accounts a nice guy with no personal enemies of his own.

The interview with his father had been particularly awkward, given his grief at the loss of his son that had combined with his belligerence at the idea of having any enemies that could have done this. Apparently it didn’t particularly enter the head of Kim Minhyuk that he wasn’t entirely a popular mayor, but then again, those in power didn’t tend to listen to critics.

Which left you in an awkward spot with the case. Neither of you had found anything even remotely like a breakthrough, and while it was only three days into a case that by all accounts, should probably take a good few months to work through, you knew that you were being carefully monitored by the people higher up the chain.

Rubbing your forehead, you let out a deep groan as you flop back on your couch and rub at your eyes. Despite the lack of progress on the case, you still had other cases to work on while also engaging in background research of Namjoon and everyone who knew him, alongside filling out all the necessary paperwork.

You were beyond thankful that the auto-transcript was a thing, though you’d still had to read through them while listening to the audio version to make sure it had all worked properly. It was infamous for throwing random words in occasionally, which certainly wasn’t acceptable when handing in evidence to a court.

As such, you’d spend the last six hours sitting on your couch like a potato as you’d listened to the interviews and read along with the transcripts. Taking off the headphones, you let your head fall back on the couch as you look over at Jimin where he sat on the other end of the couch, his own body slumped into the comfy cushions.

“Transcripts are all okay, I’ll log them all into the case file now.” You tell him, fingers darting over the holoboard over your lap as you carefully save each file into the designated case file on the police secure server. A backup file is generated instantly in both yours and Jimin’s own computer systems while a third is saved to the police backup.

“All okay?” He asks, his voice rough from disuse. Given that you’d agreed to spend the day working through the transcripts, which was a job that neither of you particularly liked doing, he’d agreed to work on the case notes of the Park Junhee case that had been opened three months ago. The pathology report had finally come in for her and Jimin had been adding the information into the case file.

“Yeah. I didn’t get any new ideas or anything listening through again,” Making a very childish whining sound, you relax against the couch with a deep and heavy sigh. “We really have nothing right now.”

“We’ll get something. We always do. There’s no such thing as the perfect murder, you know that.” Giving him a droll look, you snort loudly before rolling your eyes.

“No, there’s no such thing as a perfect murder. But there is such a thing as overworked police detectives who can’t find any clues and therefore end up closing the case because they can’t find anything to move it forward.” Jimin smirks in amusement before nodding, his face looking sallow in the blue light of his holoscreen.

“True. I’ve finished up this so I think it’s time we both put the work down and just...relaxed,” He turned his holoscreen off finally, letting his own head lay back on the couch as he closed his eyes. “Christ, this was meant to be our day off. And I’ve spent the whole day sitting on your damn couch filling in reports.”

“Sorry, you didn’t have to come here.” You say, standing up and stretching with a grunt. As you lean your head back, rolling it on your shoulders and enjoying the way your neck cracks satisfyingly, you don’t see the way Jimin scans along your body with a darker eye than usual. 

“Yeah well, it was better than sitting in my own apartment. My neighbours are pissing me off and I’m tempted to ask someone in the department to make a house call on them. God, they won’t stop partying and fucking. Your place is much quieter.” He stretches out too, the familiar popping of his joints even louder than your own and you laugh loudly.

“That’s just because I’m not a cheapskate like you and paid for the soundproofing.” You muse, grinning at him as you walk past to the small fridge installed into one of the kitchen cupboards. A lack of space was something that you had to get used to in New Seoul, which had made it all the more disheartening to interview Namjoon’s friends and families in their beautiful, expensive apartments high above the clouds.

Your window looked out onto one of the many small streets of Hongdae, the university still present just down the road. As a result, you got the lovely view of a smorgasbord of shop signs, advertisements and messages in a headache inducing rainbow of neon colours. Needless to say, you’d invested in blackout blinds to keep the sight away.

“True. I’m reaping what I sowed. And for a little extra cash I can’t even spend anyway as I’m too busy working.” He mutters, making you chuckle as you hand him a new bottle of his favourite beer. Looking down at it with pursed lips, Jimin mutters a thanks for glancing over at your own bottle of alcoholic cider.

You weren’t a big beer drinker, but you did love drinking cider. Particularly flavoured cider, and the drink in your hand was strawberry and apple flavoured. A favourite of yours from a small microbrewery out in what remains of the countryside down near Gwangju.

Crashing back on the couch, you take a deep drink and hum in happiness as the delicious flavours settle over your tongue. This brand is more expensive than others because it uses natural flavourings. Which meant it was made from real apples and not fakes. You felt it was always worth the price.

“Can I try that?” Jimin asks suddenly, causing your brows to rise in surprise. He wasn’t really the kind to drink fruity drinks, though he wouldn’t say no if given one. Brow rising, you smirk before handing him the glass.

Only he doesn’t take it from your hand, instead, he leans forward until his lips wrap around the end of the brown glass bottle, his eyes focused firmly on yours. You feel a hot flush run through your body at the sight of those luscious, pink plump lips almost seductive as the fingers of his artificial hand, the skin soft but the strength behind them evident, gently press against your own, tilting the bottle up.

His throat swallows slowly, long gulp that cause the muscles to contract and expand in a way that has your breath stuttering. The sudden sexual tension between you two is almost physical and you’re half convinced that if you reached out then you could touch it. But then he pulls away from the bottle, wet tongue licking along his lips slowly as he contemplates the flavour.

“Hmm...tastes good.” Smirking, he leans back and takes a drink of his own beer. He doesn’t stop staring at you though, and you’re left holding the bottle at a funny angle as you stare at him dumbfoundedly.

Then your eyes narrow while your lips purse, contemplating him. Jimin was a bold man, and you knew that he went for whatever he wanted. He was well aware of your attraction towards him, and you were pretty sure he wouldn’t say no if you asked him for anything sexual.

The stress of everything that has been happening pushes you on before you can second guess your actions, and you decide right then and there that you’re going to have your partner tonight. Right here, on the couch. You were going to seduce him, and then fuck him until he was crying out your name.

Make good use of the soundproofing you’d invested in.

Keeping firm eye contact with him, you bring your bottle to your mouth, carefully taking a sip before letting your tongue catch the remnants you let trickle down the edge. Jimin’s eyes immediately follow the movement and you internally cheer, knowing right then and there that he was going to be receptive.

Carefully placing the bottle down on the low table in front of you, you reach for Jimin’s and do the same with his. There’s a brief pause before you shift quickly, swinging one leg over his until you’re sitting on his lap. Almost immediately his hands move to rest on your waist, the warmth from his left hand a burning heat on you.

“Mr Park, I have a proposal for you,” You state cheerily, giving him a smile as you run one finger down the tattoos on his face. He raises his dark brows in question, the corner of his lips turning up in amusement. “I find you sexually attractive and I’m pretty certain you find me equally as attractive. I propose...that we fuck and get out all that tension.”

“Hmm, bold assumption there. But I agree. Sounds like the perfect stress reliever.” His voice is almost whimsical and you shudder as he drags his fingertips up, beneath your top. Grinning as he pushes it higher, you lean forward until the tip of your nose is pressing against his.

“Good. And the department does say that partners should always strive to work on their cooperation.” You murmur, lightly pressing your lips to his in a ghost of a kiss. Just enough that you can still feel the sensation of his skin on yours but so light that you feel the desperation for more.

“That is true. And I feel this would go a long way to improving our morale and communication skills.” Jimin goes along with you, his teeth bright in the instant he flashes a grin at you before he tugs your shirt over your shirt, leaving you in just your bra and leggings. His eyes flick down to the breasts, the bra a simple and plain white that wasn’t anything fancy.

You’d think that you’d spent thousands on it though, with the way the iris of his natural eye expands rapidly and his artificial eye darkens to a smooth magenta. It was odd how his cyber-eye worked to mimic human reactions, particularly given it wasn’t even remotely human looking. But still, you enjoyed the visible signs of his arousal.

And that was to say nothing of the semi-hard erection you could feel pressing against your core, causing your inner muscles to quiver in anticipation as a wave of your own arousal likely dampened your underwear. You decide then and there that you’ve had enough of bantering with him, and instead wrap your arms tightly around his neck as you bring your lips together, the pressure hard enough to make your teeth clash momentarily.

Running your fingers through his hair, you marvel at how silky smooth the strands are. Even the ends, with their cybernetic pigment, feel completely natural. Right now, they’re a vibrant orange that almost reminds you of the old tigers that used to roam the planet.

His hands stroke along your bare skin, the sensation overwhelming to your touch starved body and you moan deeply into his mouth, grinding your hips forward in an effort to bring some relief to the desperate need in your body. It had been a long time since you’d been sexually active with anyone.

Like Jimin said, your job was simply too busy to allow for personal interactions. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d spent time with your best friends. And even they worked in the police department as well, one as a narcotics detective and the other as a crime scene analyst. 

There just wasn't enough time in the day.

But Jimin and you had the same schedule. Which meant the possibilities were endless, and given his natural attractiveness that had served you well for more than one fantasy over the years, you knew that this would be the perfect way to relieve your stress while hopefully getting a good orgasm out of it all.

And maybe just some intimate time with another person and not just your hand.

Sighing into his mouth, you tighten your grip on his hair and tug lightly, resulting in an odd mix of a moan that ends in a growl. Jimin pulls away from your lips before beginning to trail his own down your jaw, the metal ball of his piercing oddly cold against the heat of his skin wherever it brushes against you.

His hands jerk suddenly and your bra falls down your arms, causing you to let go of him to throw it off. Shifting back slightly, you let him take in the sight of you half naked, enjoying the way he licks his mouth as if you are a meal he’s going to devour. Because you do want that.

Sure enough, he dips his head down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, the heat of his tongue against the hard bud almost painful as he laps at it teasingly. A glance up at you through hooded eyes has you whimpering, your hands tugging his hair once more and he grins before ever so gently grazing his teeth over the sensitive flesh. Almost immediately, goosebumps rise on your skin at the sensation while you shiver in place.

Jimin lets out a low laugh, the sound vibrating through his mouth as he sucks hard, his augmented hand playing with the neglected nipple with clever fingers that roll and pinch with just enough pressure. You can’t help the way you push your chest towards him, enjoying the way he plays with your body for a few minutes while his free hand gently squeezes at your ass in an almost rhythmic fashion, encouraging you to rock your hips against him in a way that has his erection rubbing against your clit delightfully.

“Princess, I’d really like it if you would suck my cock. It’s been a fantasy of mine for a while now.” Princess. That’s a new one. But you weirdly like it, a smile gracing your lips as you try to hold your laughter in and look down at Jimin. He’d worded it as a request, but his tone made it a command.

And the way your body shuddered in anticipation at the cool look in his eyes tells you that you like that. You’re not surprised. Of course Jimin would take a more dominant tone in the bedroom. The man’s never met someone he hasn’t wanted to challenge, and while in the workplace you would be more than willing to bite back at him, you were happy to give in here.

When working, you were partners. Equals. You respected him and he respected you. But here? Sexually? You trusted him with your life in situations that could result in your death, your trust with him sexually was far more easier to give.

So you stand, watching carefully as you bite your lip and slowly slide your leggings and underwear off in one go, the material clinging to the wetness from your pussy. You know Jimin sees the damp spot, they’re a pale blue so it’d be hard not to notice the sudden navy in the centre, but he says nothing.

Simply smirks at you as he takes you in, eyes roaming your body greedily as he chews on his own lip. Leaning forward, you let him cup your breasts reverently before you capture his lips with your own, the movement oddly sensual given how naked you are and the coolness against your pussy is even more enticing. 

Playing with his tongue as he teases you, you pull away from him slowly, his lips outrageously swollen and glistening from the messy kiss. But you say nothing more, simply sinking to your knees before him and being thankful you’d had the sense of mind to have an exquisite fluffy rug put in.

The quick inhale Jimin makes as you reach forward and press your hand to the bulge in his pants has you smiling, letting you know that he’s probably just as excited and turned on for this as you are. Pressing your finger against the buckle, you watch as it immediately retracts and you’re free to reach what you really want.

Slipping your hand into his pants, you dip beneath his underwear and grasp the thick, warm shaft of his cock tightly. His head falls back on the couch, a soft sigh of relief as you squeeze him tightly, the coarse hairs at the base of him tickling your hand slightly. Maneuvering slightly, you finally get your first glimpse of him as you pull him from the depths of his pants and you squeeze your thighs tight.

Jimin isn’t long, but the girth of him is more than enough to make you know that he’s going to stretch you in all the right ways. The slight bend in his shaft has the tip of him reaching upwards, letting you see the bulbous head and the slit in the centre, the colour of him already darkening from his arousal.

Licking your lips, you experimentally stroke him in one, long movement that has him letting out a stuttering breath. Smirking, you lean forward and flick your tongue over the tip of him, tasting the clear precum that was beginning to leak from him in a dainty and playful kitten lick. A soft growl from him lets you know he wants more and you comply willingly, wrapping your lips around the tip of him in much the same manner he’d drunk from your bottle.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself sink down his cock, the thickness of him stretching your jaw a little wider than you would have liked but you try to take as much as you can. His hips jerk upwards at the sensation and he lets out a moan, causing you to press your tongue as flat as you can to the back of his cock. The thick vein beneath your touch twitches and you hum, letting him feel the extra sensation as the vibrations fill your mouth.

His reaction is instantaneous, another quick jolt of his hips while his cock convulses once more. Pulling upwards, you hollow out your cheeks to increase the amount of pressure he’s feeling while your hand moves to grasp the base of him once more, beginning to work in conjunction with your mouth as you repeat your movements over and over. The noises he makes increase even more when you reach into his underwear with your free hand and begin to gently play with his balls, figuring out what makes him tick and moan the most.

You’re not even sure how long you’re down there for, all you know is that Jimin seems to be enjoying every second of it from the way his hand on your head keeps pushing at you, his pleasure so much that he doesn’t quite realise what he’s doing. There’s no complaint from you though, not when you’re enjoying it just as much as he is. Your partner tastes far better than you’d expected and he feels so good in your mouth that your pussy is almost screaming in demand to feel him too.

Whether it’s because you’ve both never slept with each other before or just because Jimin’s not an overly talkative person during sex, he doesn’t say a whole lot. Which you’re half sad about, because you’re sure he’d be good at dirty talk, but you’re also relieved because you’re not normally a fan of said dirty talk.

Maybe not yet anyway.

Despite that though, the sounds he makes are so erotic that you can’t find it in yourself to care that he’s not vocalising his pleasure in words. His body is doing that for him, and you continue to lap, lick, suck and stroke at his cock as if it was your favourite thing in the world. But you were also starting to feel a little neglected, your pussy soaked with your excitement and aching from emptiness.

Pulling off him, you look up at Jimin as you take deep breaths to regulate your breathing once more while your hand continues to jerk him off. Looking up at him, you lick at your lips hungrily and almost whine at the dark look Jimin gives you.

“Please fuck me now.” You beg softly, the need between your legs so strong that you’re not even bothered about what you sound like. Jimin had already established earlier that he would be in command, but you knew him well enough to know that he liked his boundaries being pushed too. So your request is a plea, the words tinged with a whimper while you try your hardest to make your eyes look beguiling to him.

Hissing as you squeeze his cock, he bites on his tongue slightly as he bares his teeth, a furrow forming between his brow as he wrinkles his nose before he nods. His skin looks flushed, the pink enticing against the natural golden tan of his complexion and you grin in excitement.

Letting go of him, he stands and quickly pulls off his black shirt, revealing the jaw droppingly toned torso that had you feeling hot inside many a times at the station. You’d seen this much of him before, and the tattoos that crept down his real arm in yet more geometric circles and thick lines, some of them stretched down his chest and back, are even more enticing now that you can press your lips to them.

Which you do, obviously. Mouthing hot kisses of need against the black lines on his chest as he manages to shift around you, kicking off his pants and underwear to leave him naked before you. The tip of his cock presses against your abdomen, the rigid member hot against you and you gasp in delight, pushing up to bite gently at Jimin’s jawline.

A low growl leaves him before he has one arm around your waist, pressing you to him tightly until his cock is firmly wedged between both your stomachs while his other hand forces your neck up until his lips are against yours in a forceful kiss. You give in to him happily, the trust you’ve built with him for years letting you know you’re okay.

Moaning as he presses against the small of your back, making your hips grind against him while he does the same, you know that he’s using your body to jerk off. And it’s more than exciting, it’s infuriating because your poor clit is beginning to feel very ignored. 

Between kisses, you manage to gasp out your request to him.

“Please, Jimin. Please.” The low rumble of his laugh lets you know he’s teasing you, playing with your desire for him and stringing you along on a dance of arousal. If you’d been in a normal situation, you would have snapped at him to hurry up. But you weren’t in a normal situation right now.

Still though, he’s not cruel. And so when he pulls you down to the couch, you let out a deep sigh of relief at the knowledge that cock was going to be firmly inside you within minutes. The knowledge that he was going to be bare, taking you raw and hopefully filling you with his thick cum made you clench, even more wetness forming at the prospect.

You both were under the police health care, which meant you were both inoculated against all known diseases and viruses. That included sexual ones, and you both had birth control implants. You knew, because you both get them at the same time. Which had been only two months ago.

So you were free to have the messiest sex possible with him. And the idea was more than a little enticing.

He doesn’t move on top of you though like you expect, nor does he pull you on top of him. Instead, he lays so his back rests against the couch, his torso lifted by one arm before he pulls you in front of him, letting you lay with your back to his chest. The knowledge he was going to take you from behind, which was one of your favourite positions and the quickest way to bring you pleasure and an orgasm, was even more exciting and you couldn’t stop the whimper that left you.

Jimin laughed softly, his augmented arm lifting your leg up before running his hand along your inner thigh. The skin there is so sensitive, so vulnerable and you shudder at his touch before he slides his hand further down, meeting the wetness there. A sigh from him has you trying to look at him and he catches your lips quickly, the kiss deep but fleeting.

“I’d love to feel you with my real hand but, this is my dominant hand. You’ll appreciate it more, I’m sure.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jawline before you feel his fingers slide through the slickness of your entrance. His augmented hand has always been cooler than his real arm, and you feel that coolness now against the incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves at the centre of your legs.

The flesh there is hot to the touch and swollen with need, the bud of your clit so prominent that Jimin finds it with minimal effort. His quiet laugh at the way your body jerks at the touch has you gripping his arm, trying to get him to add more pressure. But his arm is far stronger than you, and it doesn’t even move when you try.

All thought vanishes your head though when you feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, the tip pushing through your folds with ease and coating itself in the wetness that has accumulated. You don’t even realise that you’re murmuring requests and needy pleas to him, desperate for that blunt head to spear you until Jimin murmurs that you’ll be okay.

And then he’s pushing his cock inside you, the thick intrusion penetrating you at an agonisingly slow pace. But you relish the stretch he causes in you, the almost relief your body experiences as he slides deeper into you before finally he’s bottoming out, balls pressing against your pussy while his hips push your ass. A deep groan leaves him when you tighten on him experimentally, a mirrored groan escaping your mouth as you let your head fall onto the cushion.

“Oh fuck, Jimin.” You whisper, throat tight and voice husky with pleasure. Pushing your head back into Jimin’s shoulder, you tilt it to try and see what his expression looks like right now. But you’re distracted immediately by the way he pulls out slowly, the movement causing his cock to drag against all the right nerves in your pussy and you let out a breathy moan.

“I’d like to say I’d take this slow, but I honestly just want to fuck you hard and fast.” Jimin whispers into your ear, his breath hot against you and a garbled response leaves you as he thrust into you at the same time, the movement harder this time. Body rocking forward, you can’t find it in yourself to complain at his words and instead push your hips against him, encouraging him more.

He takes your body movements as permission and hooks his arm around your thigh, pulling higher and stretching you open for him. The depth he’s hitting is so pleasurable, so good that you’re just left making incomprehensible noises as the lewd sound of his cock sliding in and out of your obscenely wet pussy takes over. The only other thing you can hear is your stuttered breathing, hints of moans lacing each one with more than a few cut off from how hard he slams into you.

Eyes closing, you whine and pant with desperation, wiggling your hips against him as the pleasure overwhelms your senses completely. The years waiting to have sex again were definitely worth it if this was your reward for all that celibacy.

And then you feel his fingertips against your clit once more, the cool digits feeling so lifelike against you. Moaning loudly, you’re not entirely sure if you’re moaning his name or something else but you reach down to his hand, guiding his fingers into the rhythm that pleases you most until he’s able to do it on his own.

The tight ball of feeling in your stomach grows more and more, the combination of Jimin’s fingers on your clit as he rubs in the quick, constant movement you’d shown him in combination with the quick thrusts of his hips overloading your pussy with pleasure. It sparks and pops in your veins, causing your body to twitch against him as your hips begin to gyrate, almost as if they’re not sure whether to encourage him on or push him away.

But the insistent press of his cock against all the spots inside of you that cause the needy noises to escape your throat without your knowledge and his clever fingers on your clit combine in what is possibly the quickest orgasm you’ve ever had in sex before. Muscles tightening, you let out ragged moans, your breath catching and almost choking you as you pant and mewl in his arms.

Throughout it all, Jimin keeps moving. His hips slap against your ass repeatedly in quick thrusts that have you whining in overstimulation, your convulsing inner muscles squeezing tight on his cock repeatedly and causing him to grunt at the added pressure and friction. It’s not long before you’re pushing his hand away, unwilling to accept the added stimulation that was now bordering on pain and instead you let out gasping breaths, the occasional moan slipping from you, as Jimin now focuses on his own high.

His speed increases inside you, thick cock moving in and out of your pussy almost like a damn machine and you’re a little shocked to release there’s even tears falling down your face from the sheer power of the orgasm he’d given you. You’re not upset or anything, it just seemed to be a natural reaction.

“Ah fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jimin grunts, one of the few things he’s said the whole time before his thrusts begin to lose their fluidity, the movements jerky before he finally orgasms. You’re almost surprised by the way you can actually feel his cock twitch inside you as he cums, filling you with ropes of white cum. It’s an erotic image that actually has you shivering with surprising arousal, despite how tired you feel throughout it all.

And then Jimin is still against you, his chest breathing just as hard as your own as he lets go of your leg. You’re so exhausted from it all, which is ridiculous considering he did all the work, that you let it hit the couch with a thud, causing Jimin to laugh. Sure enough, you soon see his face where he pushes himself up to look over at you, a bright grin painted on while his cheeks are flushed and he has a delightful sheen of sweat all over.

He looks hot, and beautiful.

“Tired?” Jimin asks, playfulness in his voice despite what you’d just done. A small ball of anxiety you’d had in your stomach that maybe he’d treat you differently after relaxed. Of course he wouldn’t treat you any differently. He was Jimin, and you were both adults capable of separating work from play.

Despite that, you realised that he’s still fully inside you. You don’t say anything though, finding it surprisingly nice to just cock warm him for a while. So you’ll let him stay like that for as long as he wants. Smirking up at him, you blink slowly.

“Well, it’s very tiring being this good. I mean, I made you cum in less than what? Three minutes?” You state, putting on a thinking face that has Jimin snorting and rolling his eyes. But he doesn’t contradict you, instead shrugging casually.

“You’re right. That was quick. Good, but quick. I’ll have to do better next time. Are you okay?” He asks, scanning down your body to check you over. Humming, you stretch as much as you can without causing him to slip out of you before nodding and grinning.

“Yep, I’m good. That was a fucking good orgasm Park, holy shit.” The aura of pride mixes with smugness on him and you can’t help but chuckle at the sight, causing you to roll your own eyes at him. “Don’t get too cocky.”

“I still have my cock in you, so I’ll be as cocky as I want,” He muses. “We should order food. I’m fucking hungry. Are you?” 

When you nod, he finally slips from you and manages to climb over you awkwardly. You take in the sight of his toned body before focusing on his now semi-hard cock, slick with your own wetness and with a streak or two of his own cum. The feeling of said cum leaking from you is particularly nice, but you don’t say anything. In fact, you should probably go to the bathroom.

He’s halfway between getting dressed again, his underwear and pants on before he crouches in front of you. “Hey, this changes nothing between us, okay? We’re still partners. And friends. I’d be something more with you if it wasn’t for the fact we’re literally partners and I think we’d kill each other within two weeks. You okay with that?”

Pausing, you look him over and see he was serious. You would be something more with him if he wanted too, and you knew it wasn’t possible right now as well. The fact that Jimin was potentially open to it in the future made your stomach twist but you nodded in acknowledgement, giving him a small smile. 

You two were partners; you spent twelve hours a day with each other on the job investigating murders and more. As much as you’d love to be able to claim him for your own, you knew a relationship would not stand that. Too much time together without enough to talk about would leave your free time resulting in resentment of each other. You’d seen it happen with partners before.

The two of you would get new partners at some point though, and you would jump on him then. For now though, you simply grin.

“What do they call people like us? It’s not friends with benefits, though we are friends. Partners with benefits? Colleagues with benefits?” You muse to yourself, standing and ignoring the cum that leaks from you even more. It’s probably a good idea, because Jimin certainly has noticed it as he puts in the order for your usual at the local takeaway.

“I believe, fuck buddies will suffice.” Grinning at you, he wiggles his brows as you grab your clothes and move off to the bathroom. Nodding in response, you muse that at least you’ll both be stress free when you work from now on. Or at least...less stressed than before.

“Fuck buddies it is. Make sure you get some of the honey butter fried chicken for me!”

-

The loud, familiar beep of a call makes you look down at your band, thankful that the hovercar has been set to automatic. Glancing over at Jimin where he sits in the passenger seat, you raise your brows at him and lift your wrist.

“It’s Jeon, guessing he has news for us.” You say, watching as Jimin’s lips twist at the sight of Jungkook’s name. The two of you had thankfully been completely normal since the frantic sex a few nights ago, which you were grateful for, and it was almost amusing how easily you both slipped into your work personas around each other.

“Hopefully. Or at least something that we can lead with.” The two of you were going to interview one of Namjoon’s friends that had been out of the country since Namjoon’s murder. A fact that both of you found strange, given Seokjin had explicitly said that Min Yoongi had been the one to tell them to visit the casino.

But you’d just had to wait for him to come back, and a week after the murder he finally had. You thought he’d probably come back for Namjoon’s funeral, which had been scheduled for the following week. The autopsy report had come back for him, though you haven’t received it personally. It was probably what Jungkook was calling about.

Usually the CSA’s would compile a full report of all the crime scene analysis along with the autopsy report so you didn’t have to wait around for the other. It was a pain when one took longer, but it usually ended up being easier to read so you were pretty content with it. Any extra tests that were required did come in the form of extra reports, and you were hoping that there was no need to wait for any of that.

Pressing the band, a small holoscreen popped up just above your wrist with Jungkook’s face prominent. He looked to be distracted, his lower lip pulled between his teeth as he hummed something while his brows were furrowed, concentrating on something you couldn’t see. 

There was no mask on his face today and you noted the strong jawline he had along with the almost chiselled features. It was almost amusing how his big, bright eyes could make him go from looking like a certifiable badass to the sweetest guy ever. There was a reason he was hugely popular at the station.

Today though, he just looked all business and you knew he was in work mode. As expected really. Looking away from whatever had his attention, his eyes met yours through the small screen and he gave a small smile. Two black ball studs dotted his lower lip, shining slightly against the light of whatever screens he was looking at.

“Afternoon Detective,” He said as a greeting before nodding his head to Jimin when he saw his face too. “I’ve got the CSA and autopsy report for you. I’m sending it through now. Unfortunately I don’t have a lot more to give you regards to the crime scene. I’ve narrowed down the types of boots available but given how clean this scene was, it could be that they used a different sized shoe purposefully or even grafted a different sole onto their boot. It’s not much I’m afraid.”

Sighing deeply, you nod and give him a small smile. As expected, but actually hearing it made it all sound even harder. Glancing over at Jimin, you saw the tiredness on his own face as well. Having no evidence at the crime scene meant your jobs were going to be much harder.

“However, there was something interesting in the autopsy report. A quick overview for you, there was nothing of interest anywhere. Cause of death was a single laser shot to the forehead at close range, which we’d already figured out anyway. He had consumed large quantities of alcohol and there were traces of nemesis in his system but not enough to cause concern. Sounds like he had a fun night.” Jungkook smirked.

Nemesis was the new drug of choice in the city. Despite its name, it was pretty harmless thankfully and only resulted in a pleasant high. As Jungkook noted, nothing of worth there. But you were interested in whatever had caught his eye.

“Okay, sounds exactly like Seokjin told us. What’s the interesting thing?” Jimin asks, his thought process evidently following yours and you nod in response to his words. Biting your lip, you wondered if maybe this could be the breakthrough you need.

“Namjon had a few of the gene updates that are common with families with the money for it. The usual updates; updated immune system, increased brain capacity and all that. Nothing of real interest or help. However, he had exactly one cybernetic augmentation. His right eye. From what the pathologist noted, it’s exceptionally old, probably from in his first five years of life. It’s been sent over to the hackers for more investigation, they’ve been given a high priority notice so I would probably expect you to be able to have some more information by the time you get back.” He finishes his call promptly, letting you know that the reports have been copied into the case files and usual back ups for you before ending it.

Looking over at Jimin with risen brows, you see a similar look of surprise and confusion on his face too.

“I’m not being stupid here right? The guy who apparently has anti-aug views has his own augmentation? And an eye at that?” Jimin’s own augmented eye is bright in the hovercar, the sky outside perpetually gloomy and overcast from centuries of pollution. Shifting in his chair, he looks at you thoughtfully with his lips pursed.

“I mean...it is possible to have those views and also have an augmentation. But...it is pretty hypocritical.” Letting out a groan, you rub at your forehead as you slump in your seat. Licking your lips, you roll your head to look at him.

“Right, well. It’s probably a useless fact at this point. If it’s from that long ago then it likely has nothing of interest for us but we’ll swing by the hacker lab later,” The hacker lab was the slang term for the people who worked in the technology lab, those whose specialty was investigating any tech evidence that came in. “But for now, at least we can go in with what is hopefully surprising information.”

As you say this, the hovercar begins to settle into a space at the parking lot of the tower Min Yoongi lived in. Exiting, you both move towards the elevator and enter the number of the apartment you’d been given. There’s a brief pause and you get the feeling the elevator is asking permission of said apartment before the elevator begins to move.

“Are we actually expecting anything that could help break the case here?” Jimin asks and you know he’s been thinking the same as you. This murder was so clean, so perfect, that under any other circumstances, you’d have been tempted to just give in immediately. But you couldn’t, not this time in particular.

“No. I’m not. And we’re gonna be severely fucked if we don’t get something soon. You know damn well that they’re not gonna take this lightly that we have no information. Even though they probably know the hard spot we’ve put in.” Your partner snorts loudly at that as the elevator comes to a halt, the doors sliding open smoothly to reveal an elegant hallway. 

It’s lit stylishly with subtle lighting in the ceiling while a luscious, thick black carpet coats the floors. You think the carpet is stupid, because what if someone came in with particularly muddy or wet shoes? Then it’d be fucked, but hey. Rich people.

There are dainty tables made of what looks to be real black wood positioned at intervals between the black metal doors and you note idly that there are only four doors on this entire floor. Which means the apartments beyond must be ridiculously large. The hallway alone is bigger than your entire apartment.

“Can you imagine being this rich?” You mutter, gesturing to the real flowers that sit in a clear glass vase, the stems a luscious green while an array of bright colour gives off a sweet fragrance. Above the vase is a framed painting of...well you don’t know what it is. Lines, apparently.

Jimin looks around and shrugs, amusement on his face as you both reach the correct apartment door and press the button to alert him to your presence. “No. That’d require me to look at this shit and think ‘ah, this is nice’ when in reality I’m thinking ‘someone actually paid for that painting?’”

That gets a laugh from you which you quickly cut off when Min Yoongi answers the door, his face pale with dark shadows under his eyes. He scans you both over quickly before welcoming you inside with a small smile, apologising to you for being so late in responding to your interview response.

“It’s fine Mr Min, we just have a few questions and then we’ll be gone.” He pauses before nodding, his shoulders slumping slightly and you glance over at Jimin questioningly. A slight shrug is all you receive before he carries on scanning the apartment with interest.

Yoongi leads you both to a black leather couch, the cushions artfully placed on it a mix of silver and cream. After an offer of a drink, which you both decline graciously, he sits down on a matching couch heavily.

Setting up the recording as usual, you look directly at Yoongi and smile reassuringly at him. “Could you please tell us what happened that night? Anything you can remember might be helpful to us.”

He pauses for a moment before nodding, taking a sip of the cup of coffee he’d already had. The scent is delicious and you wonder about maybe asking for a drink after all. It smells like Min Yoongi uses real coffee, which is more than enticing.

“Erm, I’d been working all day. I work at the headquarters of my father’s bank, Min Banking, and we’re in the middle of a takeover of a Hong Kong based bank. So I’d been at work from 6am until 9pm and wanted to relax. Seokjin said he and Namjoon were going out and wanted some fun, so we met up at a club. Had a few drinks there, talked about the usual crap. They wanted to keep going but my midnight, I was done. And I had to travel to Hong Kong the next morning, which is why I’ve been gone. So I told them about the casino that some of my other friends had been to.“ Yoongi looks down then, guilt etched into his face and he looks far more tired than you’d anticipated.

“I didn’t know that would be the last time I saw Namjoon,” There are tears in his eyes now, his voice croaking slightly. “I just...they always went out together, you know? Namjoon and Seokjin were like a pair and they were always fine. And then...and then this happens? I just, was it my fault for telling them to go there?”

Shaking your head, you give him a sweet smile. “No, don’t think that way. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”

Jimin nods along with you and you both give Yoongi time to compose himself once more. Wiping his eyes, he gives you a weak smile before shrugging.

“I’m four years older than them both. Our families are old friends, it’s how it always is. So they were always little brothers to me, you know? Looked up to me and I tried to look after them too. Namjoon had such a bright future ahead of him, you know? He was going to run for mayor and everything, his dad had been grooming him for it his whole life basically and he’d finally decided he wanted it.” Nodding, you let him get everything out. It wasn’t useful to interrupt in interviews too often and was better to let them get into a flow.

“It’s hard to...Namjoon was so nice. He’d never annoyed anyone. Who would want to kill him? And why?” 

Pursing your lips, you take a deep breath as you offer a potential answer for him. “We’ve been told that apparently Namjoon had some, anti-augmentation views that were becoming a bit stronger in recent years? We understand it had something to do with his mother and the Dongdaemun Attack?”

Yoongi snorts, his eyes rolling and you’re almost taken aback by the contempt in his eyes for what you tell him. When he sees the obvious surprise in yours, and Jimin’s, eyes he flushes slightly before explaining.

“Namjoon had some anti-aug views yeah, but they weren’t nearly as intense as everyone thought. He wrote a paper on it for his postgrad and he’d talk about it but...you have to understand Namjoon. Who he was. He was...one of those philosophical types, you know? He’d theorise constantly, be coming up ideas and thoughts. It wasn’t that he actually hated augmentations, it was more like...he wondered where the limit was going to be? Where humanity would stop and machines would take over. But he certainly wasn’t running around screaming that augmentations should be stopped. He also didn’t like eating meat, if we’re talking about the things he wasn’t fond of.” Yoongi’s voice has turned gruff and you hesitate, pausing to glance over to Jimin.

You’d gotten the impression so far that Namjoon wasn’t as gungho about his beliefs as you were initially told, but you hadn’t been given quite this in depth of a look into his mind. If what Yoongi was saying was true, and you had to admit that everyone had been pretty adamant that Namjoon wasn’t some raging conspiracy theorist, then perhaps even this avenue was a bust.

“So...he wasn’t bothered about his own cybernetic eye?” Jimin stated bluntly, his own face a picture of disgruntlement that the ideas you’d had were now falling apart in front of you. Yoongi jerks slightly, his eyes widening in astonishment before confusion takes over. It’s only for a second before you see comprehension in his expression.

“Ah, yeah. I totally forgot about that. When he was a kid, like 4 or something, he got this virus in his eye from some weird bug. They couldn’t save the eye so they had to remove it. Given his parents and their wealth, they obviously went for a cybernetic replacement but they had it made so that there were no symptoms of it. It didn’t show up on scanners and it just showed whatever he saw with his natural eye, no writing or special enhancements. Solely a replacement eye.” Lips pursing, you want to shout out loud and throw your hands up given the wrench this was throwing into the works.

You’d finally had a fucking breakthrough, only to be told that it was probably nothing at all. Rubbing at your eyes, you let Jimin take over the interview for a few minutes.

“Why? Is that important?” Yoongi’s question is urgent and you wish you had something better to say to him. Some way to give him some hope, or at least closure in regards to all this. Instead, all you have is even more questions.

“We don’t know yet. We’ll have to find out. But the information you’ve provided us is very helpful, and we appreciate your time. Is there anything else you might remember?”

-

Walking through the police station, Jimin and you quietly discuss the interview with Yoongi as you head towards the hackers lab. It had been a bust really, and both of you knew it. The lead with the eye was looking like a dead end already, and now you’d been told that his anti-augmentation views weren’t even that bad. It was ridiculous how little evidence you had.

The doors to the hacker lab opens up and you grimace as the room inside is far darker than outside. And that’s to say nothing of the ridiculous array of gadgets, figurines and more than dot almost every free inch. The hackers were aptly nicknamed as they were usually recruited when they were caught hacking some aspect of the police network. It was almost a right of honour now.

One thing they all seemed to have in common was a love of crap, ridiculous colours and doing questionable things that often made you wonder how they were still on the police force. A slight pressure on the small back of your back indicates that Jimin is behind you and you let him move you forward through the desks, noting the large number of holoscreens that clutter each desk.

There’s even one with six screens, and you’re about to ask how on earth they get any work done but you’re past him before you can say anything. The desk Jimin leads you to is occupied by an eccentric guy you’ve come to know over the years. For some reason, it seems like he’s been assigned to your team or something. But he’s good at his job, so you’ll let the odd collection of creepy dolls on his desk go. And the stupid, oversized glasses on his face that reflect every damn bit of light in the room.

His desk has three screens open, a holo keyboard at his fingertips as they dart across it at impossible speeds. Eyes widening, you watch him for a few seconds in amusement. Kim Taehyung was only twenty-two years old, but he’d been working here for over four years now. After he’d got caught hacking into the cold case files.

Why he’d wanted them, you had no idea. And neither did anyone else, as he’d never bothered to tell anyone his reasoning. But he’d joined the force and been ridiculously productive since. You almost got the impression that he seemed to think he was living in a show or a film or something.

His hair today is glowing neon green, the tips blending into a yellow that’s so disgusting you actually scrunch your nose at him. He looks like the pee of a teenager after a night out in the most popular clubs in the city. And you know, because you’ve seen exactly what that looks like many times. Why people felt the need to ingest stuff that actually glows is beyond you.

His face is dotted with piercings; two studding his upper lip and two mirroring this on his lower, a piercing similar to Jimin’s in the centre of his lower lip and two nose piercings. His eyebrow has been pierced three times and there’s a cheek piercing too while his ears are probably making excellent impersonations of Swiss cheese.

Glancing up at you both when Jimin coughs loudly, Taehyung’s eyes are almost comically big beneath his glasses and he grins brightly at the sight of you both. It’s stupid how beautiful Kim Taehyung is and you’re not surprised that he’s also another hearthrob at the station. His smile is always laced with mischief though, and there’s nothing different today about it.

“Detectives! Come, come! Sit, sit!” He says eagerly, rolling his chair back and gesturing to the space next to him. This gets him a blank look from you both as there isn’t anything for you to sit on but you just shrug, crouching down while Jimin stands behind you.

“There’s no chair’s dickface.” Comes a feminine voice to your left and you look over to see Lee Siyeon, Taehyung’s partner in crime and the other hacker who often works on your cases. She’s basically the female equivalent of him and you’re about positive that they also have some kind of ‘fuck buddies’ thing going on, but you’ve never managed to get a confirmation out of them.

Her long hair is swept up into two, high pigtails on either side of her head with one side being neon pink and the other neon blue. Black lipstick coats her lips and her eyes are done with equally dark makeup, but you find that she pulls it off with the contrasting irises she has at the moment. Both her eyes were augmentations and she’d been one of those who chose to have the ability to change her eye colour on the fly.

Right now, the eye opposite the pink is blue and the one opposite the blue is pink. A multitude of piercings are present on her face as well, but she’s also got some chest piercings that you can see. She has on a tight dress that accentuates her breasts and lets you see the unique piercings in her skin while the bottom is puffy with layers of white, pink and blue and her long legs covered in fishnet tights, black leather boots with high soles making their way up her calves.

Taehyung pauses to look at the space before making a surprised expression before shrugging. “Oh yeah. Oh well, sorry. So we got the eye last night actually and I’ve been working on it for you.”

“Really? All this time? Why?” Jimin asks, his tone much nicer than the blunt words he asks. It’s always odd how well he gets on with Taehyung, given his naturally broody and sarcastic manner. Without even realising it, you end up leaning back against Jimin’s sturdy legs as you watch Taehyung’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Because there’s shit on it? Why else?” Of course, how silly of you both. Laughing, you lean forwards to rest your arms on his desk and take a look at the eye on his desk. It’s kinda creepy and you shiver, looking away from it. Taehyung had plugged it in to his unit and you found it weird how natural it looked.

“We got told by our interviewee that he got it after a virus when he was younger. Had to have the eye out, but given Kim Namjoon’s...feelings towards augmentation, we find it a bit hard to understand why no one else brought this up?” You query, looking at Taehyung with raised brows. He lets out an understanding noise before his fingers move over the keyboard once more.

“Well, that’s understandable. This is your basic eye, gives you absolutely nothing besides the bare minimum. It’s not even designed to give you a better resolution or colour or anything. Literally just a replacement, nothing interesting about that part of it. What is it interesting though, is that it has been designed to record for forty-eight hours intervals. After that time, the data is deleted and it starts again.” He taps once more and brings up a video screen, giving you a disorienting first person view of Kim Seokjin as he laughs, a table below covered in poker chips.

Standing up abruptly, you automatically grasp the arm of Jimin’s coat.

“Holy shit, are you telling me…” You let the question die off, your voice quieting as you look at Jimin and see the excitement reflected back at you. His grin starts to spread and you squeal, jerking his arm around as you realise this was hopefully the break you’d been looking for.

“Yep, we have the moment of his death.” Your intrepid little hacker smirks at you both, leaning back in his arms with his arms over his chest. Why he looks so smug, you don’t know because you’re pretty sure he didn’t actually do anything that you couldn’t have done, but whatever. You could kiss him right now.

“I created an algorithm that filtered out all the scenes of black that would have been caused by him blinking or sleeping, anything that would have had his eye closed. There’s no need for you to look at that, which leaves you with a hefty amount of footage still.” Siyeon interrupts, blowing a bubble of baby pink gum before it pops and she goes back to chewing.

Her own fingers are tapping the keyboard just as quickly as Taehyung’s and she doesn’t look over at you both, but you tell her thanks as well. It would help to make it quicker to view over the overall footage to see if there was anything noteworthy in the hours leading up to Namjoon’s death.

“Yes she did, my little sugar bumpkin,” He coos at her, making kissing motions and you look at Jimin in amusement of it all. “Anyway, what I spent all my time doing once the data was filtered was running facial scans on everyone it saw. There’s a bunch of towers, a few interesting people in the casino that should not be gambling...and this guy.”

The screen changes to show a dark image with an impossibly bright centre and you squint, leaning forward. Recognising the alley that you’d been in the other night, you purse your lips as you get your first actual look at the man who killed Kim Namjoon. It’s just at the moment he fired, a burst of bright purple-white laser fire lighting up his face.

Just as Seokjin had said, he wore a mask on his lower face that was studded with silver spikes and you note with interest that the laser is coming from the end of his finger. Humming, you lean your weight on the desk and idly recognise the feel of Jimin’s hand on your back as he takes a closer look too.

“Well, this makes it concurrent with our ideas of a contract kill. Who else has a laser gun embedded in their damn finger?” Jimin murmurs, his voice as his hand moves in a slow and reassuring manner. Making a noise, you move in even closer to look at the eyes.

“His eyes are neon green, probably augmentations. And it looks like he has a tattoo on that side of his face, black.” Trailing your finger over the image, you bite your lip before leaning back. All more points towards it being a hit.

“You’re right detective, and that’s why you get paid the big bucks. This dude is most definitely a pay and spray,” Taehyung uses the crude slang to indicate a contract killer. “What’s more interesting is that his face popped up earlier in Namjoon’s vision. Not close to him, more in the background and it’s only because he used a laser fire that we would’ve got the visual of his eyes so clearly, otherwise the programme wouldn’t have been able to match him.”

Both of your heads whip towards Taehyung, anticipation running through your body as you realised what he’d just said. Already you can feel your breath coming a little faster, wondering if this moment was truly it, the moment you’d crack it open. And so quickly!

“Turns out Mr Killer has a record, but he’s untouchable.” A tap of his finger brings up a mugshot and a profile of the man who had been responsible for ending Kim Namjoon’s life. The name glows brightly and you whisper it softly, reading through the information.

Name: Jung Hoseok. 

Age: Unknown

DOB: Unknown

Height: 5’10

Weight: 69kg

Father: Unknown

Mother: Unknown

Emergency Contact: Unknown

Crimes: Mugging, breaking and entering, grand theft auto, murder, manslaughter

Convictions: None

Notes: A member of the White Tiger Clan, suspected as the Clan’s hitman and cleaner. Exceptionally dangerous, do not approach. 

“Oh my fucking god,” You murmur, your blood running cold as you read over the information once more. His eyes are cold, almost dead, in the mugshot and you find that impressive given they’re not even real. But it’s the information you’d read that makes it worse. “The fucking White Tiger Clan. We were right, he was a hit killing.”

“It has to be because of his dad. I know he’s been clashing with some of the underground clans and cartels for a while now, and they’re one of the biggest out there. There’s no wonder he’s never been convicted of anything. Officers probably look in the other direction because I certainly wouldn’t want to be the one to try and bring him in. And even if you do, you’ve got the clan on your head.” Jimin moves backwards, tongue in his cheek while he crosses his arms over his chest.

You understand where he’s coming from and feel your own stomach sinking at the thought. This was exactly the break you’d needed, and it was the exact opposite of what you’d actually wanted the whole time. He was untouchable. Even to the mayor.

“Fuck Jimin, we got so close.” Hissing, you let your forehead fall onto his head as your frustration takes over, hands balling into fists by your sides. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you know he’s thinking things through as well, wondering how on earth you’re meant to navigate this bombshell.

Sure, you could tell the mayor that you’d found who killed his son but that there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d be able to bring that person to justice. But he wouldn’t like that, nor would he accept that. Even if he knows it’s impossible.

Jimin and you were in between a rock and a hard place, and neither of you knew what you were going to do now.

-

A week later, you’re sitting with Jimin in one of the diners near your apartment. It’s a tiny bit grotty, and you’re not entirely sure if it’s passed the food standards requirements but all you care about is that the food is good and the staff are...well they serve the food with minimal complaints. 

Given how the case has stalled so spectacularly, you’re craving greasy carbs that will do absolutely nothing for your body except taste damn good. Which is why you have a cheeseburger that’s positively dripping grease, the cheese as fake as they come and the bread slightly soggy. The fries are crisp at least, and you dip one into the small cup of ketchup you’d been given.

It tasted full of artificial flavours and sugars, but you didn’t give a damn. Not when your mood was so low. The two of you had been given a reaming by your section chief, who had informed you that you had both better bring Jung Hoseok in for questioning or you’d lose your jobs.

“We’re absolutely fucked.” You murmur despondently, twirling a fry around with a pout as you slump into the cracked, faux red leather. This was one of those replica diners that simulated some era a few centuries ago. It was gaudy as fuck but whatever.

Jimin hummed in acknowledgement, his own dinner consisting of a shredded barbeque beef sandwich that was loaded with equally fake cheese, fried onions and tomatoes. A weird combination but whatever.

He was a lot healthier than you usually, but he probably needed the energy burst as well. You’d like to say that you’d both been hard at the case since the meeting with Taehyung, but in reality you’d both just ended up resolving and closing other cases that were open and engaging in...well a lot of stress fuelled sex.

Which was great, but there were a lot of underlying frustrations about your work coming out in it. This morning had been one such explosive session, given that you’d been scheduled to meet with the chief once you got into work. Both of you knew what that meant and the stress and anxiety had all blown up into some ridiculously good sex. That relaxed mood it had put you two into plummeted quickly though in the meeting.

“We may as well just submit our resignation now, because we can’t win this case! It’s impossible,” Scowling, you squish the fry in your fingers. “If we don’t bring Hoseok in, then we will probably end up losing our jobs and given who Kim Namjoon’s father is, we probably won’t get a job here in New Seoul after that. But if we bring him in then we’re probably just gonna get straight up murdered by the White Tiger Clan for daring to bring their pet killer in. Or he’ll kill us first!”

Tongue licking at his lips, Jimin inhales deeply before letting it out and taking another bite of his sandwich. He chews slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face and you wish that you could see into his mind. Your partner was always the more level headed out of the two of you, but right now you desperately wanted him to get angry too.

He must sense the scowl on your face as he reaches out and takes the ruined fry from your hand and places it down before holding your hand in his own. Looking at him through narrowed eyes, you take in how relaxed his face looks.

“Hey, come on. This isn’t our fault, you know that. I know that. We’ll figure it out somehow. And...well, even if we don’t then I guess at least we’ll be jobless together, eh?” His smile is an obvious attempt to make you laugh but your spirits are so long that it doesn’t work and instead, you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying suddenly.

You’d never failed so badly on a case before and it irritates you even more to know that it’s not even your fault. That everyone was just being outside circumstances.

Jimin does say anything, but the gentle squeeze of his hand around yours lets you know that he’s there for you. Lowering your head, you simply use your other hand to bring the burger to your mouth and take a big bite, chewing almost sullenly.

You don’t notice the way Jimin suddenly stiffens as he sees something out of the window.

“Hey, hey. Look out the window. The fucker…” He trails off and you look up, squinting out of the darkened windows. It’s dim outside as usual, the only lighting coming from the abundance of neon signs for the stores and other diners around here and a lot of the interior lighting is being reflected as well.

But then you see what he does and your eyes widen in shock, your own body tensing up as you recognise the person standing on the other side of the glass. His mask is the same as the one that he’d been wearing when he killed Namjoon and those green eyes look almost eerie as they look over you both. 

Shuddering, you realise that you don’t like the fact that you can’t tell what’s going behind those eyes. Jung Hoseok tilts his head back, his black hair falling out of his eyes as he raises his eyebrows at you both, almost as if he was asking a question and expecting an answer.

And then he lifts up a hand, pointing at you in a finger gun style motion and your heart stops. You vaguely recognise Jimin saying something and moving but all you can focus on is the tip of his finger. The same finger that had produced the laser blast that killed Kim Namjoon.

When he ‘pulls the trigger’ though, nothing happens. Instead, you see the skin beneath his eyes puff up in what is obviously a smile beneath his mask before he waves goodbye at you both, almost cheerily. Taking a deep breath, that’s a little more shaky than you would like to admit, you watch as he turns around and walks away from the diner.

“Is he fucking kidding?” Jimin hisses and you realise he’s next to you, his knee up on the bench and his augmented arm over your chest. A part of you warms when you realise he’s protecting you, but you’re still being a little slow on the whole uptake right now frankly.

Before you can even say anything, Jimin is tapping his band to the payment screen on the table and throwing his coat on, his gaze focused firmly on the figure walking away. Suddenly, you realise what he’s going to do and you stand just as quickly, grabbing your own coat as fear runs through you.

“Jimin, Jimin no! We can’t!” You hiss at him, running after him as he marches out of the diner with what must be death on his mind. But you can’t stop him, despite trying to push him. Swallowing thickly, you glance over at Hoseok’s retreating form and try to get through to Jimin once more.

“Jimin!” You stand in front of him, refusing to move until he stops. Finally, he looks down at you and you shiver at the sight of the pure anger in his eyes. But you need to stop him, before he does something insanely stupid. “It’s a trap, don’t you see? Why else would he fucking turn up? And I mean, holy shit. He’s literally baiting us! He couldn’t be any more obvious!”

He takes a deep breath, eyes closing and you rest your hands on his arms, squeezing gently as you try to get through to him. “Please Jimin, please. Think. This is a set up, it’s so obvious. We’ve never even heard of the guy and then suddenly he’s outside our booth at a diner? He wants us to follow him!”

Jimin’s lips purse before he relaxes, his eyes still firmly on Hoseok’s rapidly disappearing form.

“I know, I know it’s a trap. But god dammit, he fucking killed Kim Namjoon, he’s killed who knows who else. And he just threatened you!” His voice goes low at that, the sheer anger blazing in him and you’d probably feel a lot differently about his protectiveness if you weren’t so terrified right now.

“It doesn’t matter. Jimin, we know damn well if we go after him then he’ll probably try to kill us. It’ll be a game to him. Or maybe he’s under orders to kill us.” You try to get through to him and Jimin finally looks down at you, tongue in his cheek as he thinks.

“I know. I know all that. But we have to try at least. If we follow him, we can try and get him before he leads us into whatever trap he’s set up. I have my stunner on me, he can’t combat that right? So we get close to him, hit him with it and see what he can tell us.” Eyes wide, you lean back from him with a frown.

“Are you fucking kidding? Are you trying to get him to torture us before he kills us? What the fuck?” But Jimin is walking past you, his pace fast as he strides to catch up to Hoseok. Unable to do anything else, and frankly unwilling to let your partner die alone despite his stupidity, you follow after him while pleading the whole time.

The scenery around you remains the same as before, generic shops dotting the floor and late night diners filled with hungry workers and teenagers with nothing else to do. Nightclubs are beginning to open up around the city and their own signs are a little more lewd, a bit more inviting.

“Where did he go?” Jimin suddenly asks out loud, pausing as he frowns and looks around the street. It’s one of those streets that you’d only go to if you had to, aka for your job, and you shuffle slightly closer to him at the sight of the unsavoury people around. Licking your lips, you look around as well and notice that Hoseok has vanished.

Uneasiness stirs in your stomach and you turn to ask Jimin to leave, that it wasn’t worth it. But then suddenly you’re both being grabbed from behind, your arms immobilized while the mouth of a gun is pressed to your neck. Managing to glance over to Jimin, you see that he’s in the same position and a sense of relief runs over you.

Which is stupid, but at least if you’re going to die then your idiot partner is going to die too.

“Detectives, I’m afraid we’re going to have to take your weapons.” The voice behind you is deep and you feel the familiar, economical movement of a pat down. Any weapons you have are confiscated and the same happens to Jimin, though at least he has his arm. “You are now in the territory of the White Tiger Clan. I recommend neither of you do anything stupid.”

Glaring at Jimin as you’re both manhandled into a sketchy club to your right, you manage to lean over to him to hiss angrily. “Oh sure, just follow him. We’ll get him before anything happens right? Well now we’re fucking in the custody of the god damn White Tiger Clan. If we never get seen from again, then it’s your fault.”

Jimin’s eyes roll, but you note the way he moves a little closer to you. Almost protectively. You’d be annoyed that he thought you were a damsel in distress but honestly, he was the better one for protecting. That cybernetic arm of his was not only stronger but was also made from a bulletproof metal compound. He had more chance of surviving this than you did.

The main room of the club looks like any other club you’ve seen; dark and sensual lighting, hologirl’s dancing on circular tables dotted throughout while people danced with wild abandon. There looked to be a good mix of towers and grafters in the room. Multicoloured hair glowed in the UV lights while clothing was a cacophony of loud patterns and vibrant colours.

It smelled of sweat and the artificial scent of endorphins that were no doubt being pumped through the ventilation system. There had been more than a few cases that you’d been on where the ‘endorphins’ that a club used had resulted in a death. Most people just got happy, maybe a little frisky. Some got violent.

Shuddering, you tried to limit how deeply you breathed. You sure could use Jungkook’s ventilator right now, but you had no doubt that the whole point of bringing you both here was so that whatever was in the air would make you a little more amenable. It rankled, and you tried to keep your face neutral when you were both led up a set of stairs at the back, discreetly hidden through subtle lighting.

At the top of the stairs was a balcony, the barrier blocking anyone from falling made of glass that seemed to have been coated in a non-reflective material. Pursing your lips, you gazed out over the club for a moment and took in the scene of pure debauchery before you. It looked even more hedonistic from here, the smoke from various machines around the room combining with the vape smoke people were using greedily, sharing from mouth to mouth.

The bar was lit up in a blaze of neon blue and purple, the colours surprisingly subtle given how loud they were. People were crowding the bar, three deep and you could see glowing drinks being handed out by the synth bartender, credits flowing between the customers and the bartender.

Finally though, you turned your gaze to the only table on the balcony. It was made of the same non-reflective glass as the barrier while the couches that surrounded it were a dark black, the leather reflecting the lights that flashed around the room.

Sitting with his legs crossed on one end of the couch was Jung Hoseok, now maskless as he looked entirely too relaxed for the little chase he’d led you both on. A smirk graced his lips, two rings dotted in his lower lip while studs dotted the same places on his upper lip, another in the centre of his skin below his lower lip. That was all combined with the piercing in his cheeks, the two metal balls looking prominent.

You’re struck by how similar his piercings are to Kim Taehyung’s and a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of your clever little hacker.

Those neon green eyes stare at you intently, his eyelids narrowing as he looks you up and down and you get the urge to sneer at the killer. The tattoo that paints itself over one half of his face, the lines thick and solid, look even more striking in the poor lighting, his natural skin looking sallow and pale.

Lifting a hand, he waves at you cheerily before winking in amusement. “You two are fun to play with. Thank you for following along, I enjoyed it.”

“You’re a sick fuck.” Jimin hissed, his eyes narrowing as he bared his teeth at Hoseok. Shifting over to him slightly, you pressed your hand against Jimin’s arm in a gentle warning. You desperately wanted to tell him to not piss off the contract killer because the last thing you needed was making an enemy of him.

“Maybe so. But you’re not going to do anything about it.” Hoseok grins, uncrossing his legs before sitting back casually. And then he looks over to the woman sitting at his right and raises one brow. “Right?”

“That’s right. You may be NSPD but in here, you’re nothing but a pain in my ass.” The woman says, her voice casual but you can practically hear the condescension in it. She’s wearing a red leather dress, the material tight and clingy to her body while matching thigh high stilettos cling to her legs. You’re almost jealous of how good she looks.

Sleek black hair has been completely pushed back from her face, the strands looking almost wet or gelled so that she perpetually looks as if she’s just risen from the ocean depths or something. A holographic red visor covers her eyes, whether it’s a stylistic choice or it actually offers her information, you don’t know but it just adds to the intimidating look she’s got going on.

Vibrant red lipstick coats her luscious lips while talon like claws look as if she’s dipped them into fresh blood. A tap against her temple has the visor vanishing and you’re left seeing her full face properly. It’s elegantly sculpted with high cheekbones and a statuesque nose, her brows carefully drawn on while her wide, sea blue eyes are lined in thick black with a strong ruby line running along the crease of her eyelid.

You knew who she was, and your stomach felt a little nauseous as you realise Hoseok had led you both directly to the top. She was Kim Taeyeon, the leader of the White Tiger Clan. One of the most powerful people in the entirety of New Seoul. She held the power of her Clan in her elegant hands and had been responsible for hundreds of deaths in the city, thousands of addicts and probably millions of family heartaches.

She was probably one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, and that made her all the more frightening. Because she didn’t look like the type of woman who ordered assassinations, who planned out hostile takeovers of rival clans and cartels, who arranged drug shipping routes through the city and to other areas of the country, even other countries. But she was, and she did it with ruthless efficiency.

“Kim Taeyeon...I didn’t expect to be meeting you today.” You say calmly, trying to hide the fact that you were more nervous than you’d ever been before right now. The reality of your situation was starting to sink in, and god you wished someone else had been the one to answer that homicide call.

She smirked in response, tilting her head as she scanned over the both of you before carefully gesturing to the couch next to her. Neither you nor Jimin went to move, and the sudden movement of what was obviously Taeyeon’s bodyguard caused you to startle.

The woman had been standing silently by the side of the couch and it was only as you looked at her now that you realised she was probably more machine than human. One half of her head had been shaved, the skin there tattooed while cybernetic implants burrowed their way into her skull. One eye was a solid white, not even an attempt to recreate a human looking eye while the other glowed a fiery orange.

A fitted black jacket adorned her torso, beneath it a carefully pressed white button up. You could see her hands were metal, the same kind that Jimin had and you realised that both her arms were probably augmentations. The black hair that remained was straight and reached her shoulder, half covering a pretty face.

As Jimin and you sat at the proferred seat, she moved back into place and you watched with dual fascination and disgust as a thick wire crept down from the ceiling. It moved sinuously and she jerked slightly as it latched onto what must be a socket at the back of her neck. Almost instantly, her white eye turned black and her expression vacant.

You weren’t someone who had any real aversion to augmentations or anything, viewing it as a person’s own choice. But part of you certainly agreed with the anti-auger’s when it came to people like this woman. There didn’t look to be much humanity left in her and it made you feel cold.

Turning back to Taeyeon, you saw her watching you carefully before she glanced at the bodyguard. Almost instantly you feel hot with embarrassment, having been caught out staring so blatantly.

“Her name is Dami. She’s currently plugged into the security system here, watching and hearing everything that’s going on. The ultimate protection, yes?” Her brow raises elegantly before she gestures to the glasses that have been produced by a silent waiter.

“No, thank you.” You say politely and cringe internally as her eyes harden.

“Drink. It’s just water. I swear.” Jimin takes one of the glasses and presses it to his lips, slowly drinking the clear liquid inside. Reaching for your own, you watch him for a moment before seeing his subtle nod and taking your own drink. Well, if you’ve just been poisoned then at least both of you are going to die together.

That’s almost romantic, in a morbid kind of way.

“So, my two lovely little police officers. I hear that you’ve been searching for my little killer butterfly for a few weeks now.” A hand movement made you both glance towards Hoseok, who grinned at his macabre nickname.

“Yes, well. We have a few questions that we’d like to ask your...little killer butterfly.” You’re almost impressed by how much venom Jimin managed to put in that sentence, only it fills you with an equal amount of worry too. Was he purposefully trying to get killed.

“You can ask your questions to me. I know why you’re here.” Taeyeon said curtly, her lips pursing in an expression that made you feel very nervous indeed. If she knew why you were here, then what exactly was going to be happening from now? This was entirely unknown territory for you.

“Why you?” At that blunt question, you do hit Jimin’s thigh. It makes him jolt slightly and he looks at you briefly, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. But you don’t care as you give him an equally annoyed expression, silently asking him if he’s trying to get you both killed.

“A testy one, aren’t you Detective Park Jimin? No worries, I can only imagine how unnerving it must be to be in the heart of all this criminal debauchery. I don’t care though. You will deal with me, because this is my club and my Clan and he is my killer. He kills who I tell him to. Therefore, I am the one whom you will ask questions to. Is that clear?” A tilt of her head finishes her question and you swallow hard, throat surprisingly dry despite the drink you’d just had.

“We understand.” You say quickly before Jimin can offend her again. Taking a moment to inhale and settle yourself, you lick your lips before carrying on. “We believe that Jung Hoseok is the person who killed our victim in a homicide that occurred-”

“Yes, yes,” Taeyeon waves her hand, her eyes rolling with exasperation. “He killed Kim Namjoon, that’s correct. He killed him because he was ordered to kill him. There were no hard feelings.”

Her easy admittance has your eyes widening, causing you to look at Jimin. His own expression is a little more neutral than your own, but you’ve known him long enough that you can also see the surprise etched deeply within him. 

Had she just...openly admitted to having Kim Namjoon murdered? Part of you wasn’t really surprised given who she was, murder was a daily occurence for her. But this wasn’t just the murder of some random person, or someone else in the criminal underworld.

“I’m...I’m sorry. But...you do realise that you just admitted to being an active accomplice in a murder? And that he is the one who committed the crime? You do realise who was murdered right?” Your questions aren’t exactly subtle, but you can’t bring yourself to be polite given the situation and everything that was occuring.

Taeyeon’s eyes narrow, her face stilling in a beautiful visage that was as cold as it was stunning. “Yes, Detective. I’m not stupid. Kim Namjoon, the son of Kim Minhyuk. The mayor of New Seoul. Hoseok did his job efficiently, just as I expected.”

Frowning, you look at Jimin who finally looks as confused as you are. Pursing your lips, you poke at your inner cheek before sighing.

“You do realise that we are police detectives, correct? And that this is the case we’ve been investigating for weeks now. You’ve just admitted that you were both behind the murder. It’s our duty to take you in.” Your words are far bolder than you actually feel but your sworn oath to uphold the laws of New Seoul, no matter how much those laws get broken, propels you to say them.

“I realise that. But you have limited options here. As far as I can see it, your path will follow one of these routes. Firstly, you can attempt to arrest me. That will end up with your death at the hands of Dami and Hoseok. Secondly, you can attempt to kill me and you’ll probably get the same result. Although, I will be dead so there’s that.” She gives a small smirk, counting down on her fingers. “Let me tell you though, I will be mightily fucked off if I have to have your remains scraped from the floor. I can only imagine the cleaning bill in here.”

You’re almost amused by the fact that that is her only worry. But then you remember that it’d be your remains that she’d be peeling off the floor and suddenly it feels a little worse honestly. 

“However, I have no interest in killing either of you tonight. That would just be more of a headache than I can stand right now and I’m already unhappy with the amount of bullshit this has caused. It’s been fun watching the towers freak out over this but I’m over it now. I’ll tell you who ordered the kill on Kim Namjoon. You will not have any further negotiation with us though. We will not testify but we will provide you with the secure contract that was signed. Understandably, it will not lead back to us. Even if everyone knows. But it should be enough for you to fulfil your duty.” She smiles, almost catlike as her eyes narrow in pure amusement.

Eyes widening slightly, you realise that this is all just a fun game to her. A game where lives are mere pawns, worth nothing more than the money they can offer.

“Why would you just tell us? After all this? You’re just going to offer them up like that?” Jimin asks, uncertainty lacing his voice with an equal look of suspicion on his face. It at least makes you feel better that he’s as confused by Taeyeon’s sudden helpfulness as you are.

“Because I’m bored of all this. It’s caused way too much shit already. It was just a contract at first, we didn’t care who it was. They paid upfront and never questioned it again. That was good enough for us. And then suddenly it was all over the news and the police were looking a little too closely because he was the mayor’s son. It’s well known the mayor doesn’t care for us. So, I want it over. Give them another scapegoat. We were just the weapon used. And now we want this over and done with. So, we will give you the name and everything you need to take the person who actually did it. It’ll be amusing to watch the towers freak out over themselves once more.” She pauses, giving you both an imperious gaze before giving you a smile. It wasn’t a very comforting smile.

“Is that acceptable?” 

“I...we don’t have the authority to approve that. We’d need to go to-” Taeyeon interrupts with a quick gesture of her hand, her expression frozen. Taking Jimin’s arm, you have as close of a mental conversation as is possible with him. His blank expression tells you it’s not working, so you lean forward.

“I don’t think we’re getting out of here unless we say yes.” You murmur to him, lips brushing against his ear. For a moment, you’re taken back to the bedroom, when you’d whispered into his ear something far more delightful and sensual.

“I agree, as much as I wish I didn’t have to. We’ll just...have to argue it out with the chief.” Jimin whispers before sighing, sitting back and looking at Taeyeon with a resigned look.

“Fine. We accept your proposal. Who is the one who ordered the hit on Kim Namjoon?”

-

Standing in the familiar senior break room, you cross your arms as you poke your tongue into your cheek and look over the vending machine here. Brows rising, you note that it’s got real coffee in it and you automatically press for it, anticipation for the delicious drink already bubbling in your stomach.

The presence of Jimin behind you is familiar as he looks as well, inputting his own choice for a herbal green tea and you raise your brows at him in amused surprise. “That’s a rather healthy choice for you, no energy drink?”

“Not today. I’m going to go home once we’ve done this and sleep for the entire evening and night. It’s gonna be fucking great. I can’t wait.” Nodding, you smiled along with him as you both took your drinks over to the couch you’d decided on. The room was empty, as per usual, and you hummed in delight at the taste of the rich coffee.

“Man, they get spoiled in here. They don’t deserve this.” Muttering, you gesture towards the coffee and smirk when Jimin leans over to take a sip. He lets it stay in his mouth for a moment, savouring the taste before nodding in agreement.

Before you can both say anything else though, the door opens and you both watch as the person you’d asked to visit the station walks through. Smiling at him, you stand and offer out your hand for him to shake as he gives you a tired smile in response.

“Would you like a drink?” You offer, gesturing to the machine and he shakes in his head in response, lifting up a hand of gratitude at your offer. As expected from a tower, after all. “Please, sit. Thank you for coming into the station for us again.”

“Of course, it’s the least I could do.” His smile is sad and you look at the shadows under his eyes, frowning slightly. Tapping your band, you set up the interview process once more before gesturing for Jimin to begin.

“We’ve thankfully had a break in the case, which I’m sure you’re happy to hear.” The man straightens, his face going serious as he rests his elbows on his knees and watches you both closely. A subtle nod lets you know that he’s listening intently. 

“Really? That’s great, what is it? Have you found who did it?” The questions are urgent and you lean back slightly, holding the cup of coffee in your hand and inhaling slowly, taking in the scent you love so much. It’s a shame that you can only get it in here. Maybe you should try sneaking in more often.

“We have actually. A contract killing, as we expected from the initial crime scene and interview. Kim Namjoon was killed by a Mr Jung Hoseok, under contract with the White Tiger Clan.” His eyes widen at that, alarm evident in them as the name filters through to his head. You’re not surprised, they are one of the most famous Clan’s in the city.

“The White Tiger Clan? Why would they want him dead?” Brow furrowing, you marvel for a moment at how well he disguises it. If you hadn’t seen the proof already, you would have never suspected a thing about it all.

“They didn’t want him dead at all. In fact, we had a talk with them. They told us everything we need to know. Turns out they don’t quite care for being used as pawns in a political game.” Your tone is much colder now, eyes narrowing and you can tell he can sense the change in you.

That caring look in his eyes, the tiredness and sorrow is quickly vanishing. You’re surprised by how much scarier he is than any of the White Tiger Clan.

“So, care to tell us why you ordered the hit on Kim Namjoon? We can’t quite figure that part of it out, but maybe we’re just not wired that way mentally. What did he do to upset you so much, Mr Kim?” Jimin asks, tapping his finger to his lip while his brows rise in a question.

Kim Seokjin sits there for a moment, his eyes flickering between you both before the facade drops immediately. Any sense of emotion vanishes from his eyes and you shiver internally, realising you’re staring at the true face of him. The fact of a man who paid to have his best friend murdered, and then made sure to be at the scene of the crime to make sure he couldn’t be implicated.

It turned your stomach.

His perfect, pouty lips twist into a sneer that’s quite unbecoming for him and he sits back on the couch, crossing his arms over his broad chest. There’s silence in the room for a few moments and he looks around before shrugging, almost petulantly.

“I thought the contract was meant to be private. Secret, whatever the fuck they call it. I paid enough for it.” He snaps, unhappiness evident in his body language and you marvel at the difference in him. Jimin licks his lips before shrugging himself, pressing his band before bringing up the contract that Seokjin had signed, complete with his own unique signature. 

“They’re a criminal Clan, they can change the rules as they want. They’re not exactly famed for being honest, upstanding citizens,” Your partner points out, watching as Seokjin’s face goes stony at the sight of the contract. “They knew objectively that Kim Namjoon was the mayor’s son, but they didn’t realise the heat it was going to put on them. Or the way the city was mourning. So they wanted out, and they offered up the person who ordered it all.” 

That gets a scoff from your unhappy culprit, but he doesn’t argue back. He’s smart, he’s being educated at some of the best places in the world and has the benefit of gene improvements to further increase his intelligence. He can tell a losing battle when he sees one, and evidently he realises this is it.

“Fine, yeah. I did it. I ordered the hit on Namjoon. Organised it so that I’d give them the signal that they could follow to find us so that I’d be there when the hit went down. Hard to be accused of being the murderer if I’m right there, correct?” He smirks and your eyes narrow slightly, dislike seeping into every bone in your body.

“But why? Why do it? He was your best friend. He was like a brother to you according to everything we’ve heard?” The questions you ask are deep and imploring, giving away the confusion you feel towards Seokjin’s callous nature. His cold gaze turns to you, and you realise that you wouldn’t want to be on his friend list.

“He was my best friend. But he was also in my way. His dad was grooming him to be the mayor, and he’d have won. Namjoon would’ve been a fucking useless mayor. He was more interested in waxing poetic about stupid philosophical bullshit gave a fuck about or coming up with ways to improve the environment. The man was obsessed with trees and all that shit. Putting him in charge of one of the most important cities in the world was a fucking joke. I wanted the mayorship, and I knew that if Namjoon was gone then I could run in his place. In his ‘memory’,” He makes air quotation marks with his fingers then. “And people would vote for me. The poor man who watched his best friend get murdered in front of him. His dad would have supported me and I’d have got it. I’d have made a great mayor.”

He sounds almost annoyed that his plan had been foiled and you almost want to laugh at how cartoonish it all seems. His big, grand plan being upturned by the very people he’d paid thousands and thousands of credits to in order to take out his competition. It was irony at its best.

And you’re both stunned to realise his reasons were so...banal. Frowning, you flick your eyes to Jimin to see the same look of both confusion and condescension on his own face.

“If you wanted it that badly, why didn’t you just ask? From everything we’ve been told about him...it sounds like Namjoon would’ve given up and supported you. He didn’t exactly sound like leadership material, and I think he might have put his full weight behind you.” That gets you another eye roll from Seokjin, along with the scoff that only towers can truly pull off.

“Please. Namjoon would do anything his father told him to do. He idolised the idiot. Even though half the city hated him. I loved Namjoon, but I wanted this more. And it would’ve all succeeded if it had gone to plan. I had it all set up. You couldn’t possibly go after the White Tiger Clan because of who they were, but you couldn’t not as well. The best option was that you got killed, the lesser option was that you just get fired. Either way, the case goes cold. But no, the fucking criminals had to have a heart.” He snorts, disgruntlement written all over him.

Lips pursing, you narrow your eyes at the sorry excuse for a man. You’ve had enough of this and he’d admitted to it, so you didn’t need to interview him anymore. At least, not today. The prosecutor could have the fun of dealing with waste of air.

Standing, you try your hardest not to glare at him as you move around to his side. “Kim Seokjin, please stand. You are under the arrest for conspiracy to commit murder and the murder of Kim Namjoon. You have the right to…” You go through the rights as usual, forcing him to stand upright as you snap the laser cuffs to his wrist. A slight hiss at the discomfort comes from him but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Leading him to the door, you present him to the waiting officer and narrow your eyes. “I hope you get hit with every conviction they can possibly hit you with. You used your friendship, the trust Namjoon had in you to get him killed. For something stupid and trivial. He deserved more than that. He deserved more than you.”

Seokjin doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes as he’s led away to the jail that’s located in the basement of the building. You’ll see him again when he’s a trial, but for now, you’d be happy if you never saw his face again.

Closing the door behind you, you lean against it momentarily before letting out a deep breath. Jimin stands before you, far closer than a partner should officially stand but you can’t bring yourself to care right now. Giving him a weak smile, you raised your fist in mock excitement.

“Yay. We did it! Without dying or getting fired.” He snorts in amusement, augmented hand lifting up to trail along your cheek slowly. You know that he can tell you’re disturbed by what you’d just heard and you let yourself lean into his touch, needing the human contact with someone who cares.

“You okay?” Sighing, you flop your head back before shaking it. Neither of you saying anything for a moment before exiting the room and heading towards your own desks, one floor higher. Pursing your lips as you go, you stare down at the floor before letting out a noise of disgust.

“You know, I don’t get the mentality behind it. Behind any of them! I mean, Taeyeon I actually kind of understand. She’s a criminal, she runs a criminal organisation. Being cruel and hard is part of her thing. If you’re friends with her, you know full well that there’s every chance she’ll kill you in the future for a job opportunity. She’s open about herself. But him? He fucking cried at the interview with us. He cried at the funeral, consoled Namjoon’s father in his arms and gave a fucking speech about how much he cared for Namjoon. When he was the one who paid to get him killed. I just...I don’t know.” You trail off, feeling confused and more than a little angry at humanity as a whole.

Jimin pauses, grasping your arm lightly and simply pulling you into a hug. The hallway is empty and you let him do so, relaxing into his embrace as your eyes close and you try to push the frustration away. 

“Hey, don’t let it get to you okay? We see all sorts in this job and this is just one aspect of it. Don’t let him get to you. We did it. We got it done and hopefully, we’ll never have to see him again except at the trial. He’s gonna go where he belongs, and as a tower he probably thinks he’ll get off light. But he’s got another thing coming, especially when Namjoon’s father finds out.” That makes you laugh lightly, knowing that the tower community will come down on Seokjin like a hammer.

It was probably why he gave up so easily. Because he knew that he couldn’t get out of it. But still.

Pulling away from Jimin, you rub at your temple tiredly before smiling in thanks at him. “True. Maybe now we can both go have that well deserved sleep.”

He goes to say something but the beeping of your bands interrupts you, the message showing that you’d both been called to another homicide in the city. Letting out a deep groan, your shoulders slump as Jimin laughs.

“Maybe later. For now though, let’s go do our jobs. And hope this one has nothing to do with the Clan.” Smiling, you let him pull you along the hallway back to the elevator. In a city like New Seoul, a detective’s work is never really done and you’re just thankful that you’d managed to solve this one.

Glancing over at Jimin as he presses the button for the garage, you bite your lip before exhaling deeply. At least this time, you’ve gained something new out of the mess this case had been. Not quite what you were hoping for, but more than you had.

[himetsuri]

Noticed you posting some Psyren caps around the same time I was first reading it the other day, and I’d like further elaboration on what’s so bad about Viz’s translation since that’s the one I read, as well as any thematic analysis you have about the series, since the light speed pacing of the final volume made it hard to track what exactly the series was trying to say to me.

hey there, no prob! (hope you don’t mind a long post!)

it's been a while since i read viz's release in full, but from what i remember there were two major issues that plagued their version: shaky translations and poor editing. it's hard to tell if one was merely negatively affected by the other, but in my opinion i think there was a distinct lack of proofreading from both ends.

for example, this line is completely wrong in viz's translation. junas is actually saying, "a minute? your telekinesis is as unbelievable as ever." he's praising grana's telekinesis, not scorning it, which in turn makes sense considering grana is ranked above him and constructing an entire tower in one minute is hardly 'pathetic.'

no idea where they got this line from at all. the original reads, “yoshina… / just where is your strength taking you–––?”

on the editing side of things, there are constantly inconsistencies in the way they translate things.

burst, rise, and trance are what the three components of psi are called in the original; blast, enhance, and trance are how viz localized them. i believe they are good at using blast, enhance, and trance for the most part, but as you can see there's at least one instance where they slipped up. this combined with…

inconsistent name order makes me think the translator is translating things one way (eg amagi miroku) and the editor is going in afterwards to localize (eg miroku amagi).

why is miroku responding as if grana is thanking him for rice balls? we know he never gave grana rice balls in the first place and one look at the panels makes it obvious grana is thanking the dead old man (who did in fact give him rice balls). it doesn’t appear that the translator is actually looking at the manga while translating.

they refer to grana as “granar” throughout the series, yet in the character intros in vol 12 they have his name as “grana.” the man on the right should be “koichi iba,” honestly not sure where they got “kohei iba” from.

kyle’s ability is called “material high.” for some reason, they changed it to “air blocks.” then in chapter 127, in what i assume is a consequence of this, kyle randomly shouts “material.”

one of my personal favorite mistakes is this page where all of the original japanese text is visible behind the english.

hopefully that gives you an idea of what i dislike about viz’s version, there are many more examples i could give but i don’t want to drag on for too long. unfortunately, the fan translation of psyren has its issues as well, especially towards the end, but viz’s version is so egregious for being the official version and people pay money for it so i’m particularly disdainful of it lol.

as for themes, i think the biggest theme of the series is the title of the second novel: “the future is in your hands.” the whole story is about ageha and co trying to stop a disastrous future from happening; at times they fail to make a difference, and at times make things worse, but they keep pushing forward and eventually achieve that ‘happy ending’ they wanted. ageha and amamiya both start the series as apathetic people who buy into the idea that the world is doomed and it doesn’t matter what anyone does. by the end, they’re wholeheartedly fighting against that idea. you can see this manifest in the antagonists like miroku, as well, who grows up as a test subject wondering if “this is all [he] was born for” to becoming a man who says things like “fate revolves around me” and believes he has to be the one to “fix” the world.

another theme i believe is at the heart of the series is “connections.” the connections between people, or lack thereof. ageha’s mom died and his dad is pretty much out of the picture, he’s not on the best terms with his sister at the start and mostly acts based on money. amamiya’s parents left her in an apartment by herself, she has no friends and closes herself off to everyone at school. hiryuu spent his childhood trying to cheer up his friend with false stories and abandoned him at a point where it truly mattered. kabuto runs from all his problems because his idea of “peace” is avoiding any messes he causes others. all this changes once they come together and allow themselves to open up for those “connections.” it’s very fitting that the very last line of chapter 1 is “your world is connected” and the final chapter’s (and volume’s) title is “connected world”!

[binniesthighs]

can i request some cuddles with jeongin and maybe he's feeling a little insecure so reader is just taking care of him sorta? maybe include some kissing or a massage if you're comfy!!~

thank u for requesting this! 🥺I literally always need jeongin fluff to cleanse my soul LOL

don’t you worry about a thing | reader x jeongin |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x yang jeongin

Genre: ~fluffy fluff~

Tags: trainee!jeongin, college au, established realtionship, secret relationship, insecurity, mentions of food and dieting, cuddles, a lil kissing

Word count: 1.5k

You always hated the sound of your dorm’s doorbell buzzer. It was too shrill and startling, it made you jump every time that you heard it. It also kinda sounded like the dryer buzzer from the dorm’s laundry room. You had fallen asleep down there much too many times that the buzzers had become your wake-up alarm.

“Y/n? Are you there? Can I come up?” Jeongin’s voice hushed into the intercom.

You nearly threw your laptop off of your lap upon hearing is voice--you knew that you had to act fast.

“Yep, I’ll be right down, just wait a sec.” You croaked back to him. In the late hours of the night, sleep had started to take over your voice.

The sound of your footsteps bounced off the concrete walls of the stairwell to your dorm. Even though it was dreadfully cold, you didn’t bother taking a coat--the faster you could get to him the better. Him getting caught outside of the dorm would be much worse than you getting a little chilly.

He shook his knees a little where he waited for you with a long and thick black winter coat around his shoulders and a thick matching scarf covering him up to his nose. He also wore a facemask underneath and sunglasses, regardless that it was nighttime. You could barely see any of his skin, but his little blue beret was a key indicator to you that it was him. As soon as he saw you coming he did a couple little excited hops.

You swung the door open. “Get in get in, hurry.”

“Y/n--”

You could feel his little happy smile while he outstretched his arms. As badly as you wanted to wrap yourself all over him, the doors to the dorm were made of clear glass.

“--Not yet!” You scolded. “Once we get to my room.”

“But I missed you so much...” You could also feel his sad little pout.

“We’re not in the clear yet.”

This time you took him up the emergency stairwell, not the main one; there were almost never any people in the emergency one.

From behind you, his freezing hand grabbed at yours.

“Geez! Icecube much?” Your voice echoed around you both, and you squeezed his hand back.

“...sorry.” He rubbed his thumb against your hand.

Jeongin swayed back and forth as you unlocked your door quickly. The closer that you got to your dorm, the closer that you knew you were to tackling him as hard as you could.

The door clicked open, revealing your rather cluttered dorm, but Jeongin never really seemed to care. Back when you could to go over to his home, his room wasn’t much different. The door closed behind you two, and you breathed out a sigh in relief.

“I think that--”

Jeongin was the one to tackle you, throwing nearly his whole body weight on you to wrap you in the tightest hug that he could muster. The way that he wrapped himself almost made it a little hard for you to breathe.

“Oh-well hello to you too.” You gently rubbed at his back.

“I just missed you so so much.” His words came out soft and his voice appeared to crack a little.

“It’s only been a couple weeks...”

“But it felt so long.”

“You were busy I’m sure--”

He pulled away to start removing pieces of his disguise so you could see his face.

“I just wanna be close to you tonight, okay? For as long as I can?”

“Okay. Of course. I’d love to do that too.” You helped him shake off his coat.

He followed you to your little couch, barely big enough to fit more than two people. You plopped him right down, swaddling him in your biggest, fluffiest blanket till only his face was visible. You gave him a little peck on the forehead.

“There. Warming up?”

“Yes. Thank you. Are you coming?”

“I’m gonna make us some popcorn. You hungry?”

“They said that I should be dieting...I shouldn’t...”

“I’m going to make you some anyways.” You winked back at him.

Once you had finished, you settled yourself right next to him, draping the blanket over your shoulders as well, and adding one more to your laps. In seconds he pushed himself as close up to you as he could, nuzzling deep into your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you. He was normally a clingy person, but something about the way that he held onto you a bit weakly was different.

“Is everything okay?” You patted the top of his head carefully to soothe him. Among the black strands, little shiny hues of deep blue shone beside them. “Hey, I just noticed that your hair is kinda blue, did you dye it?”

“Yeah, we have an evaluation coming and my stylist was saying she wanted to try something new on me since we start filming for predebut stuff soon.”

“Predebut? Innie that’s amazing!”

“It is...but it’s all been really draining and...” He exhaled out a shaky sigh.

“Draining and...?”

“--Stressful. I just feel so stressed all the time. I get so worried that if I make one mistake at the evaluation then they’ll cut me from predebut promotions, that I won’t make it.”

“You’ve made it so far though! And you’ve always gotten positive feedback from them. As far as I know, they love you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes. I do.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Would I ever lie to you Innie?”

He huffed out, “I guess not...I just get so worried that I’m not good enough. All the other trainees are so talented, they can do anything that they want to and its so easy for them...with people like them, I just, fade away.”

“Hey! Don’t talk like that! Look at me.”

His weary and adorable brown eyes looked up at you, covered by a couple strands of his newly colored hair.

“You’re there for a reason. And you are talented. Just like the rest of them. I’ve heard you sing and I know how hard you work to do everything else. Even if I haven’t seen it, I know that you are doing so well, m’kay?”

“...okay.” He let up, and returned to nuzzling into you.

“You need to take care of yourself too. No matter what they tell you to do. That’s what’s most important.”

“Seeing you is like taking care of myself. I’m sorry that I haven’t been around much.”

“You don’t have to say sorry, I understand.” Under the blanket, you pulled him in closer and continued playing with his hair.

“--And they have us working out all the time too. I’ve never been so sore in my life.”

Jeongin ran his hand down your arm to hold your free hand and play with your fingers absentmindedly.

“Are you telling me that you’re bulking up? Ahhh well, that is a little exciting...” You grinned a little as he couldn’t see it.

“I’m in pain!!!”

“Ok, sorry, sorry,” You chuckled a bit. “Where does it hurt the most?”

“My back, and my shoulders. Sometimes my arms.”

“Here.”

You lightly pushed him off of you to reach around and thoughtfully massage the muscles in his lower back, pointing your fingers to give a little more pressure. You worked your way up, pressing down all the way to his shoulders where you rolled the tension away. All the while he let out little happy and relieved sighs.

“Thank you so much Y/n.” He let his body go a little limp as you kneaded into the knots in his neck.

After, you worked down his arms, switching between pressing hard and soft. You finished off in his hands after massaging his palms. By then he was nearly jelly.

He cried out a little fake sob. “That felt so nice, thank youuuu.”

“~You’re welcome.~” You sung back. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Okay. But I might fall asleep. Sorry in advance.”

“If you’re tired and that’s what you need, I’m not gonna be mad.”

“But this is our only time together!”

“I said, I won’t be mad.”

“Okie.” He pulled the blanket back over the two of you, hesitating before he decided to get comfy again. “Y/n?”

“Mmhm?”

He blushed pink slightly, “Can I...?”

You rolled your eyes. Even after a year of dating he would still ask to kiss you. Still, you hoped that would never change.

“Yes.” You leaned in a little and closed your eyes.

Jeongin tenderly took both sides of your face in his hands to press his lips into yours. It was a bit of a tired kiss, but it wasn’t any less loving. Whenever he would kiss you, somehow he knew how to pour his whole heart into it, reminding you just how much he loved you. It hadn’t even been that long, but you had forgotten a little just how sweet it was feeling close to him like this. Maybe it was because you had lost yourself in it, but time seemed to fade away after long as the two of you took comfort in each other.

Once you broke, Jeongin tackled you once again--a startling contrast to how gentle he had been before.

“OoF!” You laughed into his shoulder.

“Y/n, I really don’t know what I would do without you.”