#so he REALLY enjoys them. but that aside!!!

[zoe-oneesama]

The Kwamis! Some of these came easier than others, but since Angelic Layer has no magic involved, all the kwamis became human~ They won't be very prevalent, they're mostly here to fill in background character roles - shop clerks, MCs Tournament Directors, fans - so they won't have a whole lot of speaking roles (aside from, you know, the MCs who're there to commentate on the fights lol). But I thought I'd give them all a nice nod in the story somewhere.

As expected, Tikki and Plagg are the main MCs. Marinette and Adrien's fights will be going on concurrently so Tikki will be commentating Marinette's fights while Plagg commentates on Adrien's. They'll have the most dialogue of the kwamis, so I do want them to have unique ways of discussing what they're seeing.

Pollen will be working directly for the Bourgeois'. As a VIP with a direct relationship with the international director of Angelic Layer, Chloe has her own private practice layer in her home and Pollen is in charge of it's upkeep and maintenance. She matches Armand the Bulter's levels of competence.

Trixx is a Rena Rouge mega fan. They've been following Alya's blog for as long as they can remember and are mega stoked that Alya moved to their city. When Alya starts to doubt herself, it's Trixx's voice that can be heard cheering her on to not give up.

Nooroo and Duusu are servants in the Agreste Estate. Unknown to Adrien, they are fully aware of his sneaking around to play and the two do what they can to make excuses and deflect Nathalie when Adrien isn't where he's supposed to be. They're rooting him on from the shadows!

Wayzz is the adult son of Marianne and Fu. He brings them to Angelic Layer fights against his will because the two really enjoy them. The two seem to be really invested in Ladybug and Chat Noir's career (and the behind the scenes shenanigans that they secretly spy on).

Longg is Kagami's bodyguard. Like Nooroo and Duusu, they are fully aware of what Kagami is doing behind her mother's back and feigns ignorance when Kagami pulls something..."sneaky" to get to a fight secretly.

Here's where we get into some existing jobs from the show:

Orikko and Kaalki are the "Layer Hot Girls (and boy)". lol I just thought it was funny that Angelic Layer even has them.

Mullo is the sales clerk at the Princess Piffle store (the store where you can buy your Angel and all the accessories). All of them lol. Mullo and her many many sisters who look just like her.

Barkk and Fluff take similar but still different roles (the uniforms are ALMOST the same but there are some tiny differences). So Barkk is the receptionist at the Practice Ring (literally you pay to reserve a mini-layer to practice on) while Fluff is the waitress/cashier at the cafeteria at the Tournament Center.

(and back to making shit up lol)

Daizzi is a nurse where Rose goes to the hospital and she has segmental localized vitiligo. Rose is particularly close to Daizzi since she helps Rose make her donations to the hospital.

Sass is the backstage directory, aka, the guy who makes things run. He has an earpiece that has the same diamond pattern as his pants on it! The anime does show one person who helps backstage, but I wanted to have a little fun with Sass's look and tie in to him being "in charge" of the kwamis.

Ziggy works at Socqueline's family art supply shop, which is frequented by Angelic Layer players who are on a bit of a budget. They love talking with the customers about their angels, though mostly the design part.

Stompp is Ivan's foster mother and Roarr his foster sister (Stompp's bio-daughter). I actually didn't think of what kind of job this outfit would be good for, but I think she'd make a good security guard - usually working at rock concerts, which she bonds with Ivan over, but she's also been hired for Angelic Layer tournaments. Sometimes sore losers get a little...violent.

Roarr falls in love with Juleka's Angel Purple Tigress immediately thanks to her pre-existing love of tigers in general. She's even bold enough to proclaim her love to Juleka herself!

Xuppu is Ondine's sibling and a fan of King Monkey, though they'll go out of their way to make fun of Kim himself. Secretly, they're very invested in Kim's career and get very upset on his behalf when he loses.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

More spamming for LaDs, but spicy...

NSFW HCs: Favorite non-traditional space to enjoy a good romp other than a bed for each of the boys... and maybe why it is their favorite?

Unconventional Romp Spots

This took a while but here we are! Loved the creativity of this request and let's face it, all of them are down so bad for reader that they'll do whatever she wants. 🤭🤭🤭 Warnings: MDNI, exhibitionism, PIV sex, clit play

Zayne’s favorite spot to make love to you apart from the bed was the couch. Was it incredibly unconventional? Not really but the couch was firm and warm, the place you and he sat snuggled together during those rare times he wasn’t working, countless movies and snacks shared, and drinking your morning coffee in each other’s company.

So why shouldn’t it count as a perfectly good spot to make love?

Your fingers tangle into his silky locks of hair as he kisses you, his large body hovering carefully before he lays down, his hips now flush against yours as he sensually licks your lips before parting them with his tongue. A contented sigh escapes you as the wet appendage dances with yours, sending jitters of excitement running through you as you slip your hands under his shirt, enjoying the warmth and scent of his skin. 

A hum emanates from his large frame as you reach the middle of his back, your nails scratching him just hard enough to send a rush of arousal skittering down his spine, heat gathering in his veins as he drinks in the sight of you, flushed and hazy, beneath him. You help each other remove the barriers of clothing, savoring the intimate skin-to-skin contact. You nuzzle his neck then trail a line of kisses down the side, watching his eyes darken with desire. 

With care, he pulls off your bra, tossing it aside and kneeling, the low couch creaking slightly as it took your weight. The TV remote lay forgotten on the coffee table as Zayne swirls a hardened nipple into his hot, wet, mouth, sucking patiently. You cradle his head as pleasurable shocks zip straight to your core. Your clit throbs in need as he tweaks your free nipple between his fingers. You writhe and moan, your hips pressing against his to seek friction.

Expertly you undo the belt of his buckle and his zip, rocking your hands against the hard heat of his erection and he releases your nipple to groan needily, his eyes flashing dangerously. Not needing any further encouragement he slides your panties off your legs, his hand coming up to cup your mound and gathering the moist heat leaking from your core onto his fingers, spreading it up towards your clit. You’re helpless under him, his long, thick, middle finger sliding so teasingly into your core while his thumb circles the little bundle of nerves.

Sighs and longing moans of need escape you as he builds up your arousal, those keen eyes watching your face for signs of your impending climax, and when you finally begin to clamp down with that familiar pattern onto his fingers, he crooks his inserted finger up into that spongy patch of delight. You erupt, a wavering moan escaping your lips as the orgasm rips through you, your clit and core spasming in pleasure around him. He pulls out his fingers, licking them clean before aligning himself between your legs.

You awkwardly part them, trying to find a comfortable angle on the narrow space of the sofa before he grabs you by the ankles and wraps your legs securely around his waist before entering you in one, long, passionate, stroke. The air grows balmy as his hips undulate, the fill of him inside you bringing all your primal needs to the surface. Your nails leave scratches on his back, and your eyes close as the sound of his ragged breathing overtakes your senses. Your eyes meet and you stroke his face, gently tracing the outline of his lips, caressing the corners of his eyes before he gathers your close, his grip leaving indents in your skin as he gives all of himself to you. 

Oh, this sweet-looking man is the wolf in sheep’s clothing. He won’t hesitate to take you anywhere, anytime. His unconventional spot is his desk at the office. He loves how naughty it makes him feel.

It’s past office hours and everyone has gone home, but Xavier had been making excuses to get you to stay late since lunch. Now, finally alone he boxes you in against his desk, your body blocked from escaping by his tall frame. His gloved hands shamelessly slide under your hunter’s uniform as he gropes your tits, palming the mounds of flesh possessively, satisfaction coursing through his veins as your nipples harden under his palms. His tongue traces hot trails down your neck as you squirm against him, feeling hardness gather between his thighs.

You whimper as his teeth scrape the front of your throat, your blood humming in your ears. Xavier undoes the buttons and buckles on the uniform and your clothes slide to the floor, leaving you in bra and panties. A stain of moisture has gathered on the crotch and Xavier’s sapphire eyes become luminous with hunger at the sight. 

“I’m guessing you’re just pretending when you say you don’t like me taking you at the office.” He helps you hop onto the desk and then kneels between your thighs, his nose brushing against the smear, inhaling the musky scent of need leaking from your core. He pulls apart your legs, helping you balance your feet at the edge of the desk then hooks his finger into the gusset of your panties, pulling them to the side and giving you a teasing lick that makes your hips thrust up. 

Xavier chuckles and sticks his tongue into your moist hole and you moan, the noise escaping into the quietness of the office, only seeming to sound louder than when it was full. Lewd slurping noises can be heard as Xavier goes to town, sucking every drop of your essence he can find, his tongue drawing circles over your sensitive bud as your hips instinctively rock against his mouth. Xavier’s cock throbs painfully inside his slacks as he steadily builds your orgasm, your every movement and noise only adding fuel to the fire. He frees one hand from it’s glove and probes your entrance, watching your fluttering hole suck his fingers in, clenching with desire around the long digits.

Every nerve in your body is begging for release, your head turning to one side, seeing all the empty desks of your colleagues, none of whom will have a clue of what happened on the desk next to them when they get in the next morning. The thought causes heat to gather in your belly, your abdominal muscles tightening in anticipation until Xavier pushes you over the peak, your breath tearing from your throat as you gasp out in ecstasy, pulse after pulse of satisfying pleasure flooding your senses. 

Xavier licks his fingers clean then quickly undoes his pants, his cock finally springing free of its confines, leaking precum on its tip. He guides himself towards your warm, wet, cunt, gently splitting you apart as he fills you up. The stretch of muscle is welcoming, and he rolls your knees onto your chest, making you impossibly tighter around him as he starts to thrust. 

As the air fills with your quiet whimpers, he sighs and settles into a comfortable rhythm, ensuring he bottoms out each time, dragging his length along your inner walls as he withdraws. 

“Maybe next time we should do this on Tara’s desk instead of mine. Imagine her look of confusion when she comes in and sees all her paperwork is stained.”

The beach. He enjoys the noise of the water lapping onto the sand as he pulls you away to a hidden spot on the sandy dunes. Was it really his fault that you wore that sexy little bikini, the one that showed just enough of your sweet ass and lacked just enough support that it didn’t prevent your boobs from jostling around when you walked?

Surrounded by a craggy wall of privacy, his eyes glitter mischievously as he squeezes every part of your body, enjoying the way your face becomes flushed and your kisses become sloppier as he teases your nipples through the bikini top, the peaks visible and hard. He grins unashamedly as you stretch out on your stomach on the beach blanket he’s laid out, and starts to undo the knot at your back. His lips kiss the back of your neck and trail down your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine with each touch. You’re humming lazily, then roll over to expose your breasts to him, sand dotting your collarbones and belly. 

Rafayel dips his head and suckles a pert nipple, groaning. “Oh, you’re all salty babe…from swimming in the ocean. Oh delicious…” He switches to the other one, savoring the taste of the salt and your skin as you moan and reach over to palm him through his swimming trunks. He’s rock hard and throbbing as you stroke his erection and his hips snap forward with each movement of your small hand. 

The sound of the waves crashing down onto the shore and the call of the seagulls disguise the moans and noises of sweet pleasure the both of you are making as Rafayel hooks a finger into the elastic of your bikini bottom and pulls it down. The ocean breeze caresses your body and goosebumps erupt all over your skin. Rafayel chuckles and covers your body, his warmth seeping comfortingly into you as your hands tickle down his back, leaning up to give him unhurried kisses down his happy trail. Unable to hide your enthusiasm anymore, you loosen the drawstring of his swim shorts, tugging down the fabric and freeing his hard meat. It pops up proudly, leaking droplets at the tip. 

You swirl your tongue generously around it and Rafayel bucks almost delicately into your mouth, the moist heat welcome against the chill of the air. He clicks his tongue in dismay as you let go but surprise him by rolling him under you, and quickly changing positions so that your pussy was tantalizingly visible over his face. You go back to eagerly slurping his generous length and feel the wet slip of his tongue lick a hot stripe along your cunt and hum in gratification as he hits your clit. He tasted salty too, and you suck on his tip like a lollipop trying to fit as much of him into your mouth as you could. Saliva drips from your mouth and onto the crevices of his thighs as you pleasure each other. You let out a keening moan, muffled by his cock as he inserts two fingers into your fluttering hole and starts petting your gspot. Your hips rock against his face and when his lips seal over your clit your concentration slips, his cock falling from your mouth as you rest your cheek on his thigh and writhe, all your inhibitions flying loose.

The relentless actions of his tongue and fingers bring you to a satisfactory orgasm, the punch of ecstasy pulsing through you as your fingers find purchase in the sand, bracing yourself and letting out shuddering whines as you ride the dizzying high. 

Rafayel laps at the fluid leaking from your core, and the feeling jolts you into needing more, the clenching of your cunt almost becoming unbearable. You scramble off his face, resting on your knees as you drag your pussy down his chest, then tease his swollen cockhead with your drooling hole. Rafayel hisses at the sensitivity and before you could react he thrusts his hips and sheathes himself inside you. 

Full and in a haze of need, you ride him, feeling his hands firmly grasp your fleshy ass, gently prying apart your cheeks as you bounced so that he can see the way your hole slides over him, enveloping him in that sweet essence.

“Ahh fuck…” Rafayel’s thrusts get sloppy as the slap of skin on skin gets more urgent, your moans mingling in the salty air as you push him to the edge. Rafayel grits his teeth as your pussy spasms around him, milking him dry as he unloads, his milky seed flooding your channel like sea foam washing up on the sand. 

It excites Sylus to take you on his private balcony. It’s just secluded enough not to give away everything that's happening but open enough that a passerby might hear or see something they weren’t expecting. The excitement is enough to get his blood pumping, a heady rush swooshing through his body as his head fills with illicit thoughts on how to get you to lose control. 

“Sylus please…” You whine helplessly as his head buries itself between your parted thighs, his tongue licking a sinfully pleasurable line from your dripping hole up to your clit. Your hands grip the railing as you moan into the open air while he crouches, a powerful jaguar that wasn’t going to leave you until he’s had his fill. The dim lights of the N109 zone surround you, passing cars and the faint noise of the few people that dared to walk on the streets breaching the edges of your senses.

His hot tongue pushes into your dripping hole and your legs wobble from the heady rush of desire that surges through you. Sylus’s chuckle is muffled and he withdraws, only to replace his tongue with his long, thick fingers. You lean over the edge, trying to steady yourself and Sylus firmly wraps his arms around your middle.

“Please what kitten?” He curls his fingers up into your gspot and pops of color appear behind your closed eyelids as you twitch, your ass jiggling as you dance on his fingers. The air is punctuated with broken moans and Sylus’s eyes gleam in satisfaction at your broken state. “That’s not nearly loud enough. You’ll need to mewl harder than that to even be heard over the traffic.” He gives a teasing lick to your clit and watches your hips jerk. The puffy folds of your sex are leaking copiously, coating his fingers with your slick.

How delightful to have you at his mercy, to have the whole N109 zone hear the pretty noises you made for him, to establish his dominance everywhere. Sylus nuzzles his nose in between your sex, inhaling the sweet musk of your pussy and you reflexively push against him. “This smell when you get so needy for me…it’s intoxicating.” Caged between Sylus and the balcony you’re helpless to do anything else but accept his kisses and licks, feeling him swirl the tip of his tongue on your clit while his fingers work inside you to bring you over the edge. 

When your orgasm finally peaks you sob, your body shaking uncontrollably, all thoughts of not being discovered flying out of the window as pleasure pulses through your body. You bear down on his face, pleasing him immensely as you ride out the dizzying spiral of delight. Once you calm down, Sylus gets to his feet, then to your shock, roughly yanks open the front of your blouse, your tits open to the night air. The taboo of the act brings forth a surge of fresh arousal as he palms the mounds of flesh and you hear the soft noise of a zipper being opened. His cock pushes apart your folds, the engorged head notching into your messy opening and filling your empty canal. You choke out a desperate sound, lost to the noise of the city, but more follow as he thrusts smoothly, his hardened meat kissing your cervix with each stroke.

He offers you his finger and you suck on it for comfort, whining your muffled pleasure as he continues the mutual gratification. 

“That’s a good kitten. Keep purring for me, sweetie.”

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume

[astralis-ortus]

form of affection

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— everything feels... new.

w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff warning → chan and reader both referred to as baby, one use of 'my girl', reader on period :(, minor cussing here and there, not proofread!ㅠ a.n → honestly i don't know what to write atm (aside from the continuation for that one seungmin fic) but i still want to write something lighthearted so... this happens. welp. :] ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

you messed up.

"fuck," you finally muttered under your breath, hand clutching your forehead in frustration. you know you shouldn't have ignored your gut feeling earlier this morning and followed through with the precautions anyway.

again you turned against the mirror, still bearing some hope that whatever you saw earlier was just your eyes playing tricks on you, but no—the damned red spot on your white dress is still there, mocking you through reflection of your boyfriend's bathroom mirror.

"baby?"

you jumped at the sudden knock on the bathroom door, feeling like your heart has suddenly fallen to your feet. fuck—how are you supposed to tell him?

"are you okay? do you need me to come in?"

"no!" you hurriedly replied, only later cursing at yourself for not maintaining your composure. making chris worried was definitely your intention after going missing to his bathroom for quite a period of time, and your reply definitely wasn't helping your resolute.

"are you sure?" chris' voice were laced with concern, and you could even picture the frown that's definitely present on his forehead. "can you crack the door open? just so i'm sure you're really okay."

"it's just—"

"baby," again, the image of your boyfriend's stern gaze immediately popped up in your mind. "please? just one sec. i need to make sure that you're alright."

it's not that you're worried chris would say anything about it—you're well aware of the kind of person your boyfriend of 4 months is, and you completely trust him. it's just that…

you're embarrassed.

the click of lock were soon followed by a soft creak, revealing chris' concerned eyes beyond the slight opening of the door. his relief was audible even to you, gaze softening when he saw the glimpse of your flushed face.

"okay," chris' lips formed a soft smile, as if trying to soothe you, "are you sure all is good? do you need any help?"

"…today."

"hm?" blinking in confusion, chris brought his face closer to you, "sorry, baby, i couldn't—"

"i got my period today," you quickly repeated, cheeks heating up as you heard your own confession, "and i didn't bring any feminine products with me since i wasn't supposed to have it for another week. i also might've stained your couch. i'm sorry."

chris turned quiet, and you could practically see thoughts flashing through his eyes—but you're not a mind reader, and the passing seconds made your heart grew heavy. is he embarrassed to hear that? is he going to send you home? is he going to get upset? should you have not—

"if i'm not mistaken… i think there should be some pads and maybe some disposable underwear under the sink, baby," the sound of chris' voice promptly ceased the vortex of worry growing in your head, your eyes again meeting chris' clear ones, "i bought it a while back for you but i don't remember if i placed it here or in my room. could you check?"

despite the confusion, your body had instinctively moved along chris' request. to your surprise, you do find the items your boyfriend had mentioned, tucked neatly in a small box of necessities. you chest bubbled up in gratitude and filled with warmth—you never expected chris to do this for you, and yet, he managed to come over and beyond any of your expectations.

"found it?"

nodding your head, you swallowed back the tears welling up in your eyes. gosh—period hormones! "yeah, just found them. thank you, baby."

a sigh of relief could be heard from the other side of the door, and you couldn't help but smile—if it wasn't clear before, then now you're determined to find a way to repay chris somehow. frankly, at times you still don't understand the lengths chris would willingly go for you, or if you even deserve to be at the receiving end of chris' gesture of affection at all. the chris you've gotten to know is so full of love, and you don't even know if you have the capacity to love him the way he cares about you.

but in the mean time,

you've decided to try and accept chris' form of affection for you.

"okay," you could hear the smile in chris' voice as he speaks, "i'll go grab a change of clothes for you while you settle down, yeah? oh, and you do know where the towel if you want to shower, right?"

"yeah, i know," you held back a giggle as you reappeared in chris' vision between the crack of the door, clutching the box close to your chest with a beaming smile, "thank you, baby. really. i really appreciate this."

and with a smile equaling to the warmth of a spring's sun, chris chuckled a reply,

"anything for my girl."

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[vampireistic]

failed replaced!MC AU

ཐི synopsis: diavolo has sent down a brand new human exchange student! one that, unfortunately, seems to be very keen on stealing all the limelight for themselves…with such pathetic results it’s almost endearing.

ཐི feat. demon bros

ཐི warnings: mentions of blood/injury, second person

ཐི a/n: yanked this idea from @squeakyducky ! ٩( ᐛ )و named the human exchange student “notus” after the greek god of the south wind because in the comic the MC is called “zephyr” after the god of the west wind (not directly in opposition of one another in mythology but i through it would be fitting). + also this is kinda long…(;_;)

You weren’t upset about having a new human exchange student, no-one really was, but just the gut feeling that Diavolo was going to throw you in as their guide was really starting to irk you (having to deal with several argumentative debate-lords thirsty for your attention doesn’t give you much energy to deal with newbies).

Who knew though? Maybe this was exactly what you needed; a break from all the fantasy in the world for a touch of realism. A touch of home.

However, soon as that portal twinkled to reveal a rather attractive human figure bursting with confidence, your latent arcane abilities smelled trouble. But then again, you were rarely right about first glance opinions on people, maybe this was just another instance?

Ok, well, when you tried going up to introduce yourself you were met with a glare so maybe you weren’t so wrong after all. Benefit of the doubt, you repeat to yourself. You remember being particularly snappy to people within your first arrival - it’s natural instinct! I mean the brother’s also threatened to eat you on the first day here, perhaps they’re just naturally standoffish.

“This is Notus, our newest human exchange student! Please be sure to give them a warm welcome.” Diavolo’s voice boomed across the council hall, eyes gleaming with excitement. Like the first time, the brothers introduce themselves one by one, each a little more on edge than the last - maybe they felt that weird energy too?

Whatever, you pushed those thoughts aside for the time being and took on the role as the newest babysitter for a human that seemed to have a much unnecessary distance while walking next to you.

��─────────────────────

It started off fine:

Occasional misplacement of your items; an untied shoelace that makes you trip (with Mammon getting a heart attack as he pulls you up by your wrist); messing up an elixir you were sure that you measured correctly; and opening your bag to find your homework gone.

Childish antics that you tried your best to push blame onto either your own forgetfulness or a misplaced prank that was meant to mess with Lucifer. But somehow, it got so much worse - and that little demonic human decided to finally take fault of their pranks by flaunting it off with pride.

“Oh, MC?” Notus caught your attention with a double tap on your shoulder. “Did you enjoy the nature reserve?” Mammon tilted his head to the side, confusion scrunching his face as he looked over at you.

“It was really lame, Thirteen would’ve done better.” Of course you were not referring to an actual excursion, no, you mean the wild animals that had magically found themselves a snuggly home in your bed as well as the plethora of Devildom-specific deadly mushrooms and herbs that replaced your old plant pots.

“Hah? What are you two yappin’ about?” Mammon huffed, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t part of this big secret that you two seemed to share. Notus smugly cuddled up to him, arms wrapping around his bicep a little too tight. “Oh it’s nothing! Just a little…gift, I got MC as a thank you for being such a great guide!”

“Oi! How come I never got anythin’ from ya when I had to babysit?” His brows furrow as he clearly attempts to, rather nicely, shrug off the unwanted attention. This is the first time you’ve seen Mammon look so visibly uncomfortable - clearly oblivious to such a fact, Notus continued snuggling themselves closer, trailing their fingers up and down Mammon’s arm.

Of course, you ended up telling all of this Lucifer, to which he implemented a special spell on your lock so no sneaky human that’s barely acquainted with magic could unlock, with the reassurance that if these “pranks” and unwanted behaviours escalate, it would be taken to Lord Diavolo directly.

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Mammon was an obvious first victim for this weird power trip of a game - he’s as kind as a lamb and just the teeniest bit dumb (lovingly so, you reassure him) - but somehow the antics got more assertive and the targets much more hazardous. Satan. Honestly at this point, all you could feel was pity as you sat in the living room, nose buried in a book that Solomon had instructed you to study.

Notus had lived alongside you for a little over two weeks now, and while those small pranks continued, this is the first time you’ve seen them take on an “opponent” that would be way too much to chew. Sliding onto the couch with a careless saunter, Notus cozied themselves up into a cushion right near Satan’s arm, their breath basically ghosting over his neck. His face twitched.

“What?” Satan scowled, a face you haven’t seen in a while crunching his usually stoic expression to a frown.

“Sataan, can you please help me study? I’m struggling in Seductive Speechcraft and need a bit of…” their hand awkwardly inches closer to his hair, “guidance.”

“Go find a book or ask your lecturer.” He aids somewhat clamly, before that mask slips off momentarily to threaten them: “Don’t bother me, you’ll regret it.”

Well, that ended quicker than you expected. Guess even the ever so bold exchange student cowers at the icy glare from the Avatar of Wrath? You can’t help but giggle from where you sat, to which Notus immediately looks up for, facing twisted in an ugly scowl.

──────────────────────

After the failure that didn’t even really begin that was the day before, Notus went for someone much more gullible and easy to please. The favourite orange-haired glutton. Offering him a massive, drool-worthy sponge cake from the human world that they swear, “MC asked me to deliver!” He wasted no time in scarfing down the citric frosting soon as that familiar melodic sound of your name hit his ears.

Beelzebub isn’t known to be someone who’s reluctant to not eat things - unless it’s Mammon’s or Solomon’s sacrilegious cooking - but in this case he wished he could control himself when it came to things that look and smelt promising. Because soon as that icing coated his tongue, his belly grumbled with a heinous rage. Not one born from hunger, no, but rather nausea. Thankfully, Beel’s a big dude who can handle pretty much anything, so it’s not like whatever poison or foul-tasting potion that was slipped between the buttercream did him any damage (apart from ruining his mood), but nonetheless, he felt horrible and got a lengthy scolding from Belphie to boot.

He doesn’t blame you, you might’ve just messed up somewhere and that’s ok! Beel sets the rest of the cake aside with a little warning label that it made him feel ill and if it did him, it could probably kill anyone else, before scurrying off to find an actual bite to eat. Guilt did gnaw at him for a while because, normally, he’s easily able to eat anything you make since you make it with so much love! But Beel can also recognise foul play when he sees it and also comfortably assess that the icing used wasn’t mixed in the way you do it.

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These little instances stopped for a while, which made you foolishly believe that perhaps they learnt their lesson and decided to turn in for the better. Notus manages to surprise you once again - instead of targeting the brothers, the attention comes back to you. The original plan was; conjure up a curse on your pillow that forces you to have perpetual nightmares, which henceforth makes you irritable and hopefully slip up in front of the brothers, preferably make you so grouchy that you say something irredeemable.

What factor Notus failed to account for is the fact the brothers also LOVE your room, and a person who specifically loves stealing shit from you is Belphegor, who so unfortunately kidnapped that one pillow ridden with a curse while stumbling into your room with a drowsy head.

The House of Lamentation isn’t known for being quiet, so the bickering downstairs over breakfast overwhelmed the space per usual, but soon as those thumps of heavy footsteps echoed down the flight of stairs connected to the twin’s room - the house went eerily silent. An overly irritated Belphie ghosts into the room with darker eyebags than normal, his face hauntingly pale with a vein popping from his forehead, body limply dragging itself.

Notus felt the hairs on the back of their neck stand up as Belphie saunters behind them, looming over like an owl would a mouse before growling: “Do you always ruin the things you touch, or is this a hobby?” Belphie may be the youngest and therefore the weakest, but when it comes to anything dream and curse related, he will know exactly who’s behind it. And if you hadn’t taught him the slightest bit of mercy, he was sure Notus’ skin would serve Asmodeus as a nice handbag.

──────────────────────

Speaking of the jewel Asmodeus, Notus’ technique was much more…social sabotage based. Spreading a vile rumor around RAD that you made a disparaging comment about Asmodeus’ character was a sure fire way to get some sort of hate train going. Rumours spread fast around RAD, especially when concerning one of the Devildom’s most infamous partygoers, after all - and the drama was sure to escalate when the oddly beloved MC was involved. Notus devilishly giggled to themselves, before knocking on Asmodeus’ room, hands clasped together in faux prayer.

The door swings open to reveal Asmo adorned with silver jewellery that coiled together like moonlight kissed webs, earrings curling into shiny heart shaped crystals that he seemed to still be putting in. With a raise of a brow he smiled politely: “Yes, hon?”

“I saw the awful things MC said about you! I’m so sorry…you must be going through so much pain,” Notus sniffles, that drama class they took back in Year 9 really paying off for once. “If it’s any consolation I think you’re amazing…I mean even all your jewellery know looks like it was practically designed with your image in mind, it’s so glorious!”

Guess they took Satan’s advice after all.

Asmo is kind. Somewhat - ish…But not when it comes to people that use cheap tricks against his beloveds. Sure, the flattery was great, but appreciation is always better when it’s genuine and sincere, specifically your praise was something his vain heart sought afer. “Aw dear,” Asmodeus cooed, hands cupping Notus’ face gently, an act that makes them smile a little unnervingly. “If you knew me at all you’d know I designed these, quite recently in fact.”

Shit.

Notus felt their face heat up in embarrassment, hands suddenly clammy with sweat. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t feel so great to be caught in a scorpion’s tail. “Sweetie,” he laughs, patting Notus’s shoulder with mock sympathy. “You could never turn me against MC. They’re real, and you’re just…trying too hard, aren’t you?”

The grip on Notus’ face suddenly tightens, that orange hue in Asmodeus’ eyes tinting a more saturated shade. “Feel free to say whatever you wish about me, but utter another word about my MC, and I’ll drain your marrow and leave your bones bare of sinews.”

A not so nice reminder that bloodlust is still a form of lust.

That backfired spectacularly. Instead of you getting bombarded with hate and being shred apart in anything you posted, it was the newest exchange student that was the prime highlight of what desperation and pathetic self-esteem looked like. Comments ranged from anything like:

“Lord…this is just embarrassing for them lol”

“thanks for the tutorial on social suicide <3”

“an attempt was made…but it should’ve been with a rope.”

Much to you and the brother’s greatest dismay, the forum that was freely spouting random comments about the situation was gradually shut down under Diavolo’s leadership. He did find it the teeniest bit funny though…

──────────────────────

In naming pathetic self-esteem, a particular water dweller comes to mind: Leviathan. He was going to be a tricky one to lure (said in a hopeful manner as if the others weren’t total failures). Not particularly because he’s the third oldest, making his raw power single-handedly capable of wiping Notus away from existence. No, it was the depressing fact that he’s a recluse that seethes to himself whenever you giggle at a joke someone other than him has made.

Although, they did manage to misuse his social awkwardness to their advantage - by acting shy and nervous as they sweetly ask if they can also join the gaming session with you and him. Levi chose a multiplayer dungeon crawler, the kind where cooperation is key — and where you certainly have excelled before. Notus, however, had other plans.

Small, inconsequential mistakes didn’t bother Levi too much…you and him were good enough for the time being, but by level, these “mistakes” of theirs just spiralled uncontrollably. Taking up important loot meant for you, and even using rare healing potions on themselves at the wrong time, leaving your character on the brink of death.

“Oh no!” Notus gasped, hand to their mouth. “I didn’t mean to—uh, sorry, Levi! I guess I’m just not used to such a complicated game.” They glanced slyly at you, a smug grin creeping onto their face.

Levi frowned, his tail twitching with irritation. “It’s not that complicated,” he muttered. “You just...have to listen.” You don’t even remember when he switched into his demon form, but you can somewhat presume it was around the second the first whine gasped from their lips.

Despite their blunders, Notus managed to turn the situation into a chance for attention, constantly praising Levi in exaggerated tones. “Wow, Levi, you’re so good at this game! I mean, you basically carried us, right?” They laughed, shooting another smug glance your way. “MC must feel so lucky to have someone like you showing them the ropes.”


Levi blinked, looking between Notus and you. His face flushed, but not in the usual embarrassed way—it was frustration. “What are you even talking about?” he snapped. “MC doesn’t need me to ‘carry’ them. They’re actually good at this!”

Notus tried to backtrack, laughing nervously. “Oh, sure, sure! I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”

“Just stop.” Levi's voice was uncharacteristically firm. His eyes darted to you, softening. “MC doesn’t need someone like you pointing out their skills. They’ve already proven themselves. Unlike, uh, certain people who don’t even know how to play.”

The match ended shortly after, with Levi muttering about how “toxic noobs ruin games.” He didn’t invite Notus back for another session.

──────────────────────

Lucifer’s patience had worn thinner than a threadbare string. The complaints from his brothers about Notus's antics had escalated from minor annoyances to full-blown disruptions of their routines. Asmodeus couldn’t walk down the hallway without Notus latching on to him, Leviathan’s game nights had been interrupted by bizarre "accidental" server crashes, and even Belphegor muttered in frustration about charms slipping into his blankets to make him "dream of Notus."

Through it all, you have endured the worst of it — every petty prank, sabotage attempt, and unwelcome spell aimed at undermining your place in the Devildom. You’ve handled it with your usual grace, brushing off bruised egos and minor inconveniences with an easy smile. But this time, Notus had gone too far.

Self efficacy is quite the funny theory - the more you believe in yourself, the more likely you are to succeed. The more successes you have, the better your confidence. So how come even without that, Notus seemed to be as determined as ever to ruin your mood?

The prank seemed harmless at first—a minor tripwire spell meant to tangle your legs and leave you stumbling in embarrassment. But Notus, in their reckless desperation to make you look bad, underestimated the strength of the curse. When the trap activated, you didn’t just trip - you were violently flung forward, crashing into a jagged edge of a chair (there’s too many of them in the House of Lamentation as you just got to personally establish).

The sound of breaking wood reverberated through the house. You hit the floor hard, crimson spilling from a deep gash on your arm where wood had pierced skin. Placing your fingertips on the gush of blood pooling around the scratches, your hands webbed with red iron.

Lucifer arrived almost immediately, his presence a storm brewing in the hall. His brothers, frozen in stunned silence, stood back as he knelt to examine you. His gloved hands trembled faintly as he carefully removed the shards and inspected the various wounds that differentiated in size and depth.

Notus tried to deflect, stammering about how it was just a joke gone wrong, their confidence cracking under Lucifer’s piercing glare. “I-I didn’t mean for it to—MC is just so dramatic, they—”

“Silence.”

Lucifer’s single word was sharper than a blade, and the room fell into an oppressive silence. His wings, usually tucked away, unfurled slightly — a stark warning of the fury he struggled to contain. He rose to his full height, towering over Notus, his face a mask of cold fury.

“You’ve been a disruption from the moment you arrived, but this? This is beyond forgiveness.”

──────────────────────

Notus didn’t learn their lesson, of course. Their jealousy burned too brightly to let them stop. But this time, you’ve sincerely had had enough, and with Thirteen’s help, you concocted a poetic dose of karmic justice mingled with a touch of the classics.

Diavolo was long informed of the incident involving you previously, and further filled in on all the previous attempts of ruining both your reputation and relationship with your family. A little meeting in the RAD council room was in due order - one which all of the affected were invited for a silly show.

Lucifer stood impatiently next to a stone-faced Diavolo. You would find it slightly threatening if you didn’t know what was going to happen in just a few moments. Thirteen sat next to you, swinging back and forth on a chair as she grinned at you with every wavering gaze at one another.

And like moth to a flame, blazing with both frustration and smugness, Notus strolled on in. Well, I say stroll - I mean struggle with opening the door before they accidentally put too much pressure on the handle, leading to the doors gushing open with a far swing, and the buckets utop the bar to drop down like catharsis.

A greedy sorcerer from sorcerer’s society that just so happened to notice you when you came in one day with a few of the brother’s and Solomon the Wise himself - Notus couldn’t bare the idea that a little thing like you could swoop in and charm them so easily.

Now covered in a disgusting, webbed display of pig’s blood and some sticky consistency of water mixed with honey, Notus simply stands there, allowing defeat to settle in while the crescendo of giggles cuts deep into their pride.

“Alright alright, I’ve got enough of a laugh out of this,” you clap your hands, whispering an incantation that forces a gush of water to rain down upon them, washing away the weird concoction that coated their skin.

“Aw what, that’s no fun lol.” Leviathan pouts in the background.

“Whaaat!! What a bore…” Mammon grumbled to himself, looking away from the sopping wet dog once his eyes accidentally caught theirs.

“MC…” Notus sniffled pitifully, looking up at you through tear-stained lashes.

“Yes yes, I know,” you sigh, hands on your hips as you try your best to articulate your reasoning for this baseless morality. “This isn’t forgiveness or anything, the stuff you’ve done warrants actual apologies but hey, I’ve had a few of the demons in here attempt to kill me before,” Belphegor coincidentally looks away, “a few jabs at my reputation with failing results was honestly a little funny.”

Notus’ eyes glimmer with shiny stars and fat blobs of tears as they murmured a very simple:

“Fmnf…I love you.”

“…”

“Huh?”

[kismetlotts]

Kinktober 🎃 day eleven! Pegging!

cw: dubcon? (not really), ‘I’m going to prove you wrong.’ Simon who ends up failing, submissive Simon, anal fingering, pegging, Simon breaking, cumming on himself, use of ‘good boy’, somewhat dominant reader, use of ‘mummy’, desperate Simon

Simon Riley who just stared deep into your eyes, your soul, with a blank, bored expression when he finally lets you take control. Slipping one lubed finger up and into his tight ass and gaining nothing but a small eye twitch in return.

Simon Riley who tries his best to keep up with the plain expression when you slowly begin to add another finger and another finger as you begin to fuck his ass. Fingering him with such delicacy and care. Aside from his face getting hotter-darkening in colour and the occasional heavy breath he let slip, he seemed to not be caring.

Eyelids slowly shutting before looking back at you with a cocky smirk, as to say ‘I told you so.’ before turning to look out the window. Watching the autumn leaves fall and fly in the October wind just to make a point of his boredom.

He was going to fucking prove you wrong. All the time you’d accused him of secretly being submissive was about to be slapped right back in your face.

He wasn’t a bottom. He didn’t want you to peg him and fuck his ass! The only reason he declined when you asked to fuck him, wasn’t because he was a pussy- it was because he just wasn’t into that kind of stuff.

The only reason he was stuck in it right now was because you wouldn’t give it up- and stop pestering him about it. You just couldn’t accept the fact that despite your attempts, you were going to get nothing out of him. You just couldn’t accept that fact that he wasn’t some kinky gruff military man with a hidden, deep, sexual desire to be controlled.

So fuck it- what did he have to hide? Let you have your playtime before you realise Simon was in the right all along. That he’d been open and honest to you all this time and that you just wouldn’t listen.

He winced slightly as you withdrew your fingers, spreading more of the cold lube onto them and onto the strap on before lining up getting between his legs.

The hard tip of the fake cock hitting his soft, tight entrance and he couldn’t help but bite the inside of his mouth. Breathing in heavy as you entered him trying to stifle the moan that slipped through his cold expression. Swallowing hard because holy fuck.

He wasn’t enjoying it- he swears he wasn’t enjoying it. It was just different and that was the reason he let out that little whine. It was just that it felt different; you had to believe him.

The more you pulled out and the more you fucked back in the louder he got. Moans almost spewing out of him before words took their place. Empty threats followed by furious groans of pleasure because he couldn’t let you hear his whimpering, he had to prove you wrong. He had to.

“You are so fucking dead after this..” As you slammed back inside of him, his body jolting up and back arching like a dirty slut. Eyes squeezing shut as he groaned, his knuckles growing white from the grip he had on the bed sheets.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard after this.” And all you could do was laugh down at the man. Watching in awe how his body trembled below you, to see someone so tall with mass of muscle and strength, so defiled and weak- so desperate and full of need.

His dick was twitching like crazy and it wasn’t long before you had him cumming, over and over again. Milking him of his semen so hard and for so long- he was shooting blanks. Tears stinging at the sides of his eyes. He couldn’t get enough, he didn’t want you to stop but he needed to stop. Oh fuck.

You’d slow down the speed at which you were fucking him, unsure from the lack of sound if he wanted or could continue. His mouth open and tongue partially stuck out but no sound came out.

None aside from a few broken sobs as he reached out and grabbed your arm. Throwing his head back and moaning the loudest you’d ever heart. A name falling from his lips between the cracks of his voice, a name you’d never heard as he whimpered completely fucked out and useless.

“Oh fuck mummy- don’t you dare stop- it feels so fucking good- you cant fucking stop now-“ So you sped up for him again. Grin on your lips because you knew you were right- even if he didn’t know you were right you just knew you could get him to break.

He was being such a good boy. Moaning and letting his guard down like that. You fucked him hard- so hard. His whole body wrecked with pleasure and you’d never seen Simon so fragile and fucked out. So overcome with pleasure that he was crying. You pulled out after a while watching as he took a few minutes to rest, his body still trembling and twitching with euphoria.

His brain too foggy and too overstimulated to think properly, letting you clean him up and tuck him into bed. Barely looking you in the eye as he limps his way past you the next morning, an irritated scowl on his face.

He was not submissive. Definitely not.

[galactic-magick]

Cosmic Love: Viktor/Machine Herald x Reader

Summary: You try to resist your corrupted lover, but you ache too much for his touch that you can’t refuse any longer.

Words: 1.0k

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, no pronouns but reader has afab anatomy

Author's Notes: As promised, here is the galaxy quaking, star bursting, 5th dimensional, cosmic anomaly Viktor smut. Takes place between when Jayce tries to kill him and when he goes through the full Machine Herald transformation. Hope you enjoy.

-

He’s been calling to you.

You’ve been ignoring the echoes, ignoring the voices of those he controls. You told him you want no part of it, that you won’t stand by his side if he continues down this cultist path. But even still, he finds ways to continue begging you, sending his followers your way and speaking through them. He pleads for you to join him, to experience the higher awareness and power he has gained. But you must stay strong.

After several months, the cult followers completely lose their humanity, becoming lifeless white and gold husks akin to an army of mannequins. They all look the same, retaining no glimmer of individuality, only the great Machine Herald’s voice to be heard.

As expected, one of them attempts to gain your loyalty back once again, breaking into your house and talking as a mechanized version of the man you once loved.

“I give you one last chance to join me,” it says. “I want you by my side, my love.”

“Viktor...what you’re doing is wrong. You know I can’t do that.”

The form he possesses steps closer to you, metal fingers brushing your cheek. You shiver, but you don’t turn away. You’ve yearned for his touch again for so long, that even this form of him makes you question your answer. His fingers are placed so meticulously, gliding down your neck, your breasts, your hips. It’s so easy to imagine it’s Viktor’s face you’re gazing upon, covering up the blank slate that’s actually in front of you.

“If you won’t join me…” his voice rings clear in your ears. “Allow me to have you one last time.”

You squirm, begging every damn desire in your body to say “no” while the machine’s fingers drop ever closer to the space between your legs.

But you won’t say “no.” You want this as badly as he does, even if it means casting your better judgment aside.

“Please.” you moan.

He takes action at your consent instantly, picking you up like you weigh nothing and dropping you on the bed.

“Soon, love, I will show you all I’ve discovered,” his voice gives you chills while the white figure pulls off your pants and underwear. “But I must start with what you already know, mm?”

You nod and close your eyes, sighing heavily as two fingers tease your clit and slowly enter you. He curls them, pulsing them in and out, his thumb circling your nerves. He does it exactly like he used to, having memorized your body in such detail that he can unravel you through this other vessel. The touches are so like him, you almost forget he’s not really here with you.

You lose yourself to him like clockwork, humming as the machine’s hands crawl up to your face.

“Shall I show you what I see now, dear?”

His fingertips glow against your forehead, and you feel a shock through your system. You suddenly feel weightless, like your cognizance is no longer tied to a physical form. You see beautiful stars and nebula surrounding you, the city you came from now looking so small.

Then you see Viktor, ethereal with his hair aglow. His face is just as it used to be, his body free of worldly constraints. He takes your face in his hands again, something electric pulsing through them.

“You must understand, love,” he says. “This is my destiny. But I would hate to have to accomplish it alone.”

He caresses your form, every stroke and squeeze feeling like another orgasm. Whatever higher being or dimension your consciousness is in now, it’s too much for your physical body to process back home. It isn’t painful, per se, but it is incredibly overstimulating—eliciting more intimate sounds from your mouth.

Your fingers grasp onto his iridescent locks, screaming in ecstasy as Viktor continues to give you sensations you never thought possible. He makes love to you among the stars, your mind filling with the visions of an astral plane and glorious evolution beyond your comprehension. He wordlessly shares his dreams and desires with you and for you—a life of healing, immortality, and ascension. Stars burst around you, and your physical body has likely gone numb, with your current form not far behind.

“Viktor...it’s too much,” you cry out.

The sensations slow down, fading out of your body as you regain your ability to think again.

“This place does have quite the effect on the mind,” Viktor explains, pulling you close to him. “The longer you stay, the less overwhelming it becomes.”

“What is it doing to me?” you ask breathlessly, falling nearly limp in his arms.

“The feeble human psyche cannot grasp the transformation that must take place, and the body suffers from such extremes,” he kisses you softly, “If you are to join me, you must find me, and together we will complete the process.”

You stare into his heavenly eyes, your thumbs tracing his cheekbones, “How do I find you?”

“The Noxian has been keeping my physical body alive. You must go to her.”

“Viktor…” you exhale, his face leaning into your palm and kissing it. “I want to stay with you. I do. I just...all of this is so far beyond what I can understand…”

“I know, darling. I know,” he reassures you, running a hand over your hair, now golden just like his.

“Something just feels so wrong,” you admit. “I don’t want us to do things we’ll regret.”

He shakes his head, “Trust me, love. This is our destiny.”

Ignoring the shrieks of your conscience, you wrap your form around him, inhaling his lips desperately as you both plunge through layers of galaxies. Every nerve in your body is blaring with pleasure, chasing the high you had moments ago. It’s addictive—the sensations experienced as a cosmic power—and you realize now how Viktor could get so consumed by it. Your bodies aren’t limited to any constraints, intertwined and becoming one in every way. You feel him everywhere, his mind and matter melded with yours.

Indescribable pleasure washes over both of you in constant, unstopping waves. You feel his every thought, the need to speak quickly diminishing.

But you still yearn to hear his voice.

“Viktor?”

“Yes, darling?” his hands never leave you, again pulling you into his magnetic essence.

“I’m going to come find you.”

A smirk pulls at his lips, his voice going low.

“I look forward to it.”

[inkyarcturus]

Thank you I really enjoyed writing it!!! I’m so glad you enjoy my ramblings :,D

I always think about how people say “oh they’re just doing that for attention” as a way to devalue (not sure if that’s the right word) what they’re going through

And every time I just wanna scream “IF THEYRE SO DESPERATE FOR ATTENTION THAT THEYRE WILLING TO DO THAT? GIVE SOME TO THEM?-“ especially when it comes to kids!

The only thing babies know is to cry when they need help, they rely on the people around them entirely. When it comes to kids, toddlers, even teens in a lot of cases, you need to teach them how to healthily and responsibly deal with their emotions. That is not something they naturally know, it is something that is taught to them based on the people around them.

(Mini rant over)

Anyways after this scene, Harry continues to lash out, but Severus has already learned what that means for Harry. He recognizes that when he’s feeling the most vulnerable, the most invisible, the most left out, is when he lashes out.

Every time after Harry subconsciously does it, Severus takes a breath to stop his own anger from over flowing and pulls him aside.

Just a stern, “why are you acting like this right now?”, has Harry responding with anger, but he runs out of energy when he sees Snape looking at him softly, like with his other kids, like with his slytherins and Ron and Nev. he is his as well. it’s always enough to get him to stop.

Of course, occasionally Harry will say something that he doesn’t mean, or something that he only THINKS he means, that genuinely hurts Severus and Snape snaps (ha!), but they eventually get to the point where he recognizes that his reactions are less of an action w/ unknown or “bad” reasons, and more of an “I don’t want to tell you/ I don’t know HOW to tell you.” action his body developed as a coping mechanism.

I imagine as he’s a little older, the insults and such stops, but he does try to keep secrets, some part of him still seeing safety in the act.

Tw: Child abuse

While I don’t envision Harry to be a particularly jealous person in the books, I can’t help but think about certain situations with Severitus where that emotion might come out.

I especially think about it when fanfics depict Severus as a protector for abused children in slytherin or Hogwarts as a whole. I think Harry seeing how Snape treats other children compared to him would enrage him.

Just seeing everything that he could have if things were just a little bit different, if he was sorted into slytherin, or if he just had a different father, or some other insignificant thing, he could have had the love, care and protection he always wanted. He could have had someone on his side who actually fought for him, was willing to do the hard stuff for him.

But he doesn’t just get jealous of how Snape treats other children, he gets jealous of the fact that Snape FINDS OUT about the other children’s abuse. He sees how easily Severus seems to pick up on other kids flinching, hiding injuries, or peculiar behavior, taking them aside after class within the first year, first month of school. Yet, after years of knowing him, Snape seems to have no clue. He sees that and can’t help but think why not him as well, he gets so so angry.

The anger and jealousy doesn’t stick however as he just ends up thinking maybe the way the dursleys treat him isn’t so bad, after all, if the number one person in the school for detecting abuse can’t see it, maybe it’s not actually abuse. And anyways, he should be grateful the other kids have someone to go to.

And somewhere deep down he thinks it’s his fault, because he has gotten rather good at covering up their tracks over the years. How can he blame the Professor when he purposefully hides the evidence?

Anyways hope yall enjoyed this rant :D

[faithshouseofchaos]

Daniel’s first thanksgiving— Daniel Ricciardo x fem!Reader

Word count 631

Fluff

Daniel Ricciardo stood on the wraparound porch of his girlfriend Y/N’s family home, taking in the crisp southern air. The house was alive with the sounds of laughter, a country playlist humming from a Bluetooth speaker, and the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. Thanksgiving in the South was something he’d only ever seen in movies, but experiencing it firsthand was a whole other beast. He tugged at the collar of his button-down shirt, already feeling like the center of attention before he even stepped inside.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the teasing began.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the Aussie we’ve been hearing about,” Y/N’s cousin Billy drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “What’d you do to trick our girl into bringin’ you down here?”

Daniel grinned, running a hand through his messy curls. “Must be my accent, mate. Works like a charm.”

“Oh, honey,” Y/N’s mom chimed in from the kitchen, peering at Daniel over her glasses. “That accent’ll only get you so far. We’ve got high standards in this family.”

“Ma,” Y/N groaned, shooting her mom a look as she grabbed Daniel’s hand to lead him further in.

“I’m just sayin’!” her mom called after them. “Don’t want him thinkin’ he’s got it too easy!”

At the table, her dad sized Daniel up like he was studying the competition in a poker game. “So, son,” he began, “what exactly do you do? I heard somethin’ about you drivin’ cars real fast.”

“Yes, sir,” Daniel said, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m a Formula One driver.”

Her uncle snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Ain’t that just goin’ in circles all day? NASCAR’s where the real talent is.”

“Uncle Joe,” Y/N groaned, but Daniel chuckled, rolling with the punches.

“Close enough,” he said with a wink. “But I’ll give NASCAR a go if you think you can teach me a thing or two.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Uncle Joe slapped the table. “This one’s quick, I’ll give him that!”

But the teasing didn’t stop there.

“Y/N said you can cook,” her little sister, Maddie, piped up, leaning her elbows on the table. “That true, or are you just pretty to look at?”

Daniel raised his brows, looking to Y/N for help. She only grinned, enjoying every second of it.

“I can cook,” Daniel said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But I wouldn’t put me in charge of the turkey. Maybe the mashed potatoes?”

“Oh, we’ll put you to the test next time,” Y/N’s grandma said with a sly smile, her Southern drawl thick. “But don’t you worry, sugar, you can just sit there and look pretty today.”

By dessert, Daniel was laughing as hard as everyone else, fully embracing the playful chaos. He didn’t mind being the butt of their jokes—especially when he caught Y/N’s dad giving him an approving nod across the table.

As the family filed into the living room for football and post-dinner naps, Y/N pulled Daniel aside onto the porch, the soft glow of string lights above them.

“They really like you,” she said, leaning into him.

Daniel smirked, his arm sliding around her waist. “Oh, I got that loud and clear when your grandma called me ‘sugar.’”

“Yeah,” she laughed, resting her head against his chest. “They only tease the people they like.”

“Well,” he said, tipping her chin up to meet his gaze, his smile warm, “good thing I like them, too.”

From inside, her uncle’s voice rang out. “Hey, Aussie! We’re throwin’ the football—don’t wimp out on us!”

Daniel laughed, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “Guess I’ve got another round of initiation to pass.”

She grinned. “Welcome to the family, Ricciardo.”

[kkuzushi]

May I request a Popular kid Scaramouche x Nerd reader (basically a power bottom scaramouche)

Also can I be 🐀anon

“ 𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 ”

✦ characters: powerbottom!Scaramouche x amab!reader

✦ cw: no nut November, college setting, academic rivals (sort of), handjob (receiving & giving), slight praising but mostly humiliation, riding

✦ word count: 2.549k

✦ notes: I’m inexperienced with writing power bottoms so this took some time, I hope I did it right despite being more used to sub-bottom characters. Welcome to my blog as well, 🐀 anon! <3

You sat cross-legged on the couch, your laptop opened and displaying an earlier announcement. The debate competition you had joined was held today and your opponent? It was no other than the confident and quick-witted Scaramouche. However he was no match to you as always—when it comes to academics, you were simply 1% better, and that’s on being humble.

In your dorm, there was another competition being held. A staring contest between you and Scaramouche, both engulfed in silence. He glared at you, most likely sulking in his defeat.

“Fine.” Scaramouche sighed, putting his hands up in mock surrender, “You won, enjoy while it lasts.” His voice was laced with irritation and amusement. It’s not like he’ll deny that you did good but he won’t admit you were better.

You smirked, crossing your arms, “I plan to.” You looked away once the silent staring ended, taking your laptop and switching to your spreadsheet. There’s still a lot to do before the day ends and you intend to be productive.

You pushed up your glasses to the bridge of your nose, getting ready to continue on your day. Working’s about to be more fun, after all, it’s not everyday you crush someone who’s so sure they’re better than you.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, seeing you ignore his presence easily in turn of concentrating to your works again. “We’re not done, you know,” He says, pushing himself off the wooden chair he was sitting on.

You glance at him, with a raised eyebrow you replied, “We are, unless you want the principal to reannounce the winner.” Scaramouche glared at your smug smile, he decides to push it aside, this is just one of your few wins over him, no big deal.

He walks closer to you, getting too close for comfort. “Don’t get too cocky now or you might lose this one.”

You blink, “Lose what?”

Scaramouche grinned and quickly plucks your glasses off your face. “Scara–” You warned, your arm extending to take it back from his grasp but he was quicker, keeping it out of your reach.

“Since you made me lose–”

“I didn’t make you lose,” you interrupted.

He rolled his eyes, “Okay, let me rephrase that.” Scaramouche cleared his throat, “Since you won the debate, it’s only fair I win something, right?” He grinned, the curve of his lips reminding you of a mischievous cat.

You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms, “You’re not making sense.” Before you could even add more to your statement, Scaramouche walked closer and pressed a hand on the cushions behind you, trapping you on the couch.

“A fair trade,” He muttered, “You win the debate, I win this.” To emphasize his point, his free hand pushed your laptop to the side as he straddled your lap. Your legs uncrossed out of instinct despite being caught off guard by his actions.

You moved back against the cushion, feeling rather awkward with the sudden proximity. “A seat on my lap, really?” You joked, but the glint in his eyes tells you there’s more to this.

Scaramouche’s grin widens, his legs closing in on you to further trap your body in between them. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve heard of this little challenge you’re participating.. NNN, was it?” He drawls, his hands tracing your chest.

Is he kidding? There’s no way a childish challenge like that was enough for him to feel satisfied.. I mean, it’s not like you’re taking it seriously, right?

“You don’t dare–”

“Oh but I do.”

Scaramouche chuckles, his hips starting to grind against your crotch. His movements were slow but precise, intended to tease you to your limits.

Your hands gripped his waist, forcing him to pause for a moment. “Stop that.. I have better things to do right now,” You breathed out, a clear sign of warning in your eyes.

Scaramouche almost considered your words but he just smirked, carrying on with his movements. “You expect me to believe that?” His face leans in closer, “You’re getting hard awfully fast.” Without waiting for a reply, he closed the distance and captured your lips in a deep kiss.

He can feel your arousal building right beneath him with every roll of his hips, just the mere thought of turning you on was enough to turn him on. Amidst the kiss, Scaramouche was already thinking of ways he can easily make you lose this no nutting game, and he got just the right idea for it.

The both of you pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. The atmosphere in the room isn’t helping you at all, but then again, making out with Scaramouche means you’re already fucked.

The indigo haired brat was quick to get into action, his movements sharp as if he was determined to either make you lose or get to the real thing. Or both. In a blink of an eye, your pants were pulled to the floor, and next would be your garment which he was already fumbling with.

You gripped his wrists firmly, attempting to push him away. “You can't actually be going through with this,” you protested, voice sharp with disbelief.

But Scaramouche only laughed, the sound low and smug, his mischievous eyes glinting with confidence. Before you could protest any further, he twisted his wrists around to escape your grip. The realization hits you too late—he was completely serious about this.

And just like that, the tables turned, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath Scaramouche. Your cock stood rigid, thankfully not yet leaking precum—after all, that would be quite the embarrassing sight for you, wouldn’t it? But the man before you is nothing if not stubborn, and there’s no chance he plans on taking it easy.

Scaramouche slowly wraps a hand on the base, stroking you to full erection. You bit your bottom lip, suppressing the noise of arousal that’s threatening to escape. You can’t let him win right at the beginning, it’ll inflate his insufferable ego.

His violet eyes observed you intensely, as if daring you to slip up, while his movements grew more deliberate. The room felt warmer with every second, your self-control being pushed to its limits under his relentless teasing. You couldn’t give in, not now—not with that smug grin of his silently declaring his impending victory.

Concealing your noises wasn’t enough to hide the evidence of your arousal, though, as a slick warmth began to drip down to his fingers. The sensation only served to spur Scaramouche on, his movements becoming smoother, aided by the telltale fluid that betrayed your resistance.

“Well, would you look at that..” He murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted against your ears. The obscene sounds filled the air, wet squelches echoing louder than your restrained breaths. “Seems like all that fight of yours is slipping away,” he taunted, his thumb brushing over the angry tip of your cock.

Scaramouche props himself, nimble fingers working to unfasten his pants. Even with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face, it was impossible to miss the way his breaths had grown shallow, his eyes tainted with want despite the composed facade he’s been putting up.

“I’m not the only one turned on, huh?” You muttered, a teasing edge to your voice as your eyes glanced up to his. His smirk faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he shoved his pants off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m still in control here.” Scaramouche scoffed as he continued to strip himself. Finally, his own dick springs free from its confinements, hard and almost begging for attention. You stared for a while, temptation waring in your mind. Maybe you can turn the tables if you teased him enough.

As your gaze lingers on him, Scaramouche’s smirk deepens. The obvious look of hesitation and temptation in your eyes was another opportunity for him. “Careful, your stare might melt me,” he teased, his voice dripping with a playfulness.

He shifted, lowering his body to yours, the head of your cock resting in between his ass. “Touch it,” He grinned, grinding himself against your weeping dick. “You want to, don't you?” He adds, there was no mistaking that Scaramouche wasn’t exactly asking; he was commanding.

There goes your chance of regaining control. Your hand trembled slightly, the tension in the room thick as you fought the urge to give in. But Scaramouche wasn’t making it easy. His body was so close, his scent intoxicating, and the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

Once your hand makes contact with his shaft, you feel the man twitch a little. With a quiet gulp, you start to stroke him like he did to you. He continues to grind himself against you, movement in sync with your palm.

Scaramouche’s grin widens as you obey his words, his breath becoming uneven with every passing second. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice breathless yet undeniably smug, as if he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Were you actually into this? The thought crossed your mind as Scaramouche’s commands and praises echoed in your ears. Pondering over it, the man above can feel your hand faltering, contemplation filling your face.

Scaramouche took the opportunity to lean in, his lips brushing softly against your ear. “Don’t stop now,” he whispered, his voice almost a challenge, one that made your pulse spike. “Unless you’re starting to want more?”

“I don’t–” He was quicker than your protest, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel something tight constrict your length. Scaramouche groaned as he lowered himself further on your cock, precum lubing his insides.

“Fuck– Scara, wait–”

“Gonna cum already?”

“No! That’s not–..”

It felt as though you could dissolve completely under the sheer heat of his inner walls, the tight warmth clinging to your cock already making you see stars. Despite teasing you, Scaramouche had his face buried in your neck and hands gripping your shoulders, hot breath hitting your skin as he adjusts to the intrusion inside him.

After a few moments of silence, Scaramouche began to move, riding you with slow precision. Wet, obscene sounds filling the room in an instant. Every glide of your cock inside him has you moaning, while he was watching you with a smirk.

The brat could see the subtle shifts in your expression—the way your body responded, betraying the calm front you forced to keep. He was in complete control of the situation now as he watched you squirm under his attention, every little shift sending a ripple of satisfaction through him.

“Don’t forget that NNN challenge of yours,” Scaramouche grinned above you. You almost forgot about that, the only thing you can focus on is his weight pressing down on you, tight entrance swallowing you whole.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower, teasing you further, “Or perhaps you’re losing already?” He continued as your face flushed even deeper. “You’re halfway there, aren’t you?”

You looked him straight in the eye, lips barely moving as you gritted your teeth. “Fuck off,” You muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice betrayed the slight tremor of frustration. Your hips start to move with a mind of its own, shallowly thrusting up to Scaramouche, movements small yet evident to the man receiving it.

Scaramouche didn’t miss a thing, of course. Even the slightest twitch of your muscles told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t as composed as your earlier facade tried to show.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “How cute,” he purred. “You can’t stop moving. You’re just giving in without even realizing it, aren’t you?”

Every part of you screamed to resist, to regain some semblance of control, but Scaramouche’s inner walls clung to your shaft, forbidding you to pull away or stop the rise and fall of his hips.

The indigo haired brat’s hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, his smirk never faltering as he tilted his head down to meet your gaze. “Are you finally enjoying this?” He drawled, enjoying his control over you.

He leaned in, lips brushing close to your ear. “How humiliating for you,” he added, his breath warm against your skin. His tone was laced with mockery, but the way he moved left no doubt that he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

Your thrusts were just helping him get his impending victory, but you couldn’t help it any longer. He was clenching around your cock on purpose, making sure you were losing your control without any fight.

Your hands gripped his waist as soon as he picked up the pace, “You’re twitching already?” He teased, voice dripping with condescension. His breath ghosted over your cheek as he whispered, voice soft but full of mocking intent, “Can’t take it anymore, can you?”

Precum starts to dribble out of his hole, the evidence of your crumbling resolve bringing him satisfaction. “Poor thing,” He added, a chuckle slipping through his lips, “and here I thought you’d have more restraint.”

Scaramouche’s chuckles quickly change into breathy sounds of pleasure as your cock hits his prostate dead on. His fingers tightened on your shoulders, grounding himself from the unexpected pleasure.

“So desperate..mnhh♡–” He managed to murmur between breaths, though the quiver in his voice betrayed his earlier dominance, the sensation overwhelming him, leaving him as lost in the moment as you were.

His head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as another gasp broke through his control. “You’rengh–still pathetic..” He whispered, though the shiver in his tone made it clear he was no better.

“Hmn–ironic.” He glared at you for that. Your patience was wearing thin, and despite everything, your body couldn't stop reacting, your movements becoming more desperate. Consequences be damned, you’re teetering over the edge already. November comes around every year anyway, but coming inside Scaramouche might just be a once in a lifetime activity.

You were already where he wanted you to be right from the start, and for the last time, he smirked before losing himself in the overwhelming pleasure. A knot draws up in your abdomen, your thrusts growing erratic as you chase your climax.

"Don’t stop..hAngh–♡" Scaramouche gasped, voice breaking as you pushed your body into his, meeting his every move with urgency. “F-Faster–go faster!” he stammered, but the need for more was clear in his frantic pace.

With one final thrust, you released yourself inside him, ropes of cum spurting out as he came on your stomach at the same time.

The two of you collapsed into each other’s arms, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths after everything that transpired.

As the haze of pleasure began to fade, reality sank in like a cruel reminder. Shame and irritation bubbled in your mind as the thought hit you—you really lost No Nut November because Scaramouche rode you.

“This was.. so lame.” You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder.

Scaramouche heard your muttered complaint loud and clear, a raspy chuckle escaping his lips as he tilted his head to look at you. “Seeing you lose made it worth it.” But amidst his relentless teasing, you can feel him grinding on your cock, pushing your cum deeper inside him.

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: JJ does something stupid

I tried to pretend like nothing had happened, that everything was fine. We were going to look for the Royal Merchant hoping to find the gold. When we got to the bottom and found the shipwreck, that happiness soon turned into utter disappointment. It wasn't there. Who knows if it had ever been there honestly.

We were headed back to the Chateau and everybody was upset, everything has led up to this and now we don't know where to go from here. Hopefully, someone has a major breakthrough on what to do. We tied the boat up to the dock and headed our separate ways. John B went home, Kie went to the Wreck, Pope went to the library, JJ went home, and I went for a walk. We all just needed our space for a little bit to think about what to do next.

I was walking along the beach, enjoying the weather. It was cloudy and a little windy, which almost messed up our finding the Royal Merchant earlier, but my favorite weather. The dreary weather has always been comforting to me. I wasn't on my walk for long before I heard my name being called. I turned around and saw Rafe and his goons. I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. "Rafe," I said back to him in a drawn-out voice, "Who are you mad at now?"

"Who the hell do your friends think they are?" He yells back at me, causing me to flinch at the sudden change in tone. I take a step back and find my back hitting Topper's chest. "Really, Rafe? I know you hate me, but three to one is a little unfair, dontcha think?" I look behind me at Topper and then over to Kelce who is standing next to Rafe. I cross my arms, annoyed that my walk was being interrupted. Rafe got close to me and took hold of my wrist which caught me off guard. "What the hell, Rafe," I curse at him trying to pull my arm away. That's for sure to leave a bruise.

Rafe gets close to my face causing my heart to beat faster. "Tell those boyfriends of yours that we know," he whispers into my ear. He backs away, still holding my wrist in his hands, and looks at me. I give him a confused look before ripping my wrist away from his grip. He pats the side of my face and smirks before walking away. He glances back at me one last time before I turn and walk away. It didn't take me long before I got to JJ's house. Luke was gone, probably getting drunk.

"JJ, what the hell did you do?" I ask him walking into the backyard where he was sitting. He stands up to look at me. "Why did Rafe, Top, and Kelce just stop me on the beach?" As soon as I mentioned the three, I could see the anger flash through his face. He walks over to me and runs a hand through his hair.

"What did they say?" he asks with guilt lacing his voice. I roll my eyes at him, "They didn't say shit to me J," I say louder this time, getting frustrated over the entire situation. "He said to tell those boyfriends of mine that we know," I repeated what I was told. JJ lets out a sigh before turning around and sitting down.

"So, uh," he starts explaining looking up to me, "you know how Pope had that cut on his forehead?" I nod my head, still not understanding. "Rafe and Topper jumped him, beat him up with a damn golf club. I couldn't just stand by and let them get away with it." JJ looks down and plays with the rings on his fingers, "We sunk Topper's boat."

I look at him with wide eyes, not able to think of what to say to him. He stands up and walks over to me, grabbing my hands. He looks down and I feel his grip loosen, "What is this?" He points to the forming bruise on my wrist. He looks up at me with pleading eyes, "How do you think Rafe stopped me?" I said with anger laced in my voice. I try to storm away from him, but he runs in front of me and puts his hands on my shoulders. "Rafe did that?" I nod my head at him and continue walking, "Will you please just talk to me?"

"J, please just," I look him in the eyes and can see the worry in them, "leave me alone." He is taken aback and steps aside, letting me walk away. I turn around and look at him, "I just need a second."

It was more than a second by a few hours. I just needed a second to think about what they did before I responded out of anger. I walk to the Chateau and see JJ by the dock. He's looking over the edge of the railing. I start walking up to him and he turns around and just looks at me. He raises his eyebrow at me, wondering what I was doing. "I'm sorry J," I tell him walking up to him and resting my elbows on the railing. He hasn't taken his eyes off me, "I didn't mean to just leave." I apologize.

"It's just, what you did was extreme and then on top of that, involving Pope? He's got the most going for him out of all of us, he can't get caught up in something like this." JJ looks out to the open water before looking back at me.

"You know why I didn't tell you?" I look up at him and mumble a small no. "I didn't tell you, not because you'd be mad, but because I know you would try to help," he tells me as he looks down at me. "I couldn't bear the thought of you getting in trouble. Pope agreed to this, but we both agreed you couldn't know."

"JJ, I don't understand why though," I tell him and turn around to lean my back against the railing. "Why would it matter if I tried to help?"

JJ takes my hand and places his hand on the bruise that was left by Rafe earlier. "This," he looked down at my wrist, "this is why we didn't tell you. You didn't know shit and this happened. I love you, but you have a mouth on you," JJ chuckles at the last part, but I can't stop thinking about what he said. "Rafe is a douchebag of the finest order and if you knew more, this might've been worse." He holds my hand in his and is tracing the bruise on my wrist.

"JJ," I look up at him to find him staring into my eyes, "Did you just say you love me?" I could see the red tint on his face immediately. He quickly looked away. He let go of my hand and I felt all the cold I felt before return. "You've just never said that to me before."

I look down at my feet, trying to ignore the heartbreaking feeling. I went to walk away before I heard him say, "I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner." I look up and turn around to face him. He's still looking out at the open water. "I couldn't bear to see you hurt because I love you. Not like how I love the rest of the Pogues." He turns around to face me, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier about Topper's boat, but I knew if you knew, you'd be in more danger."

I went and grabbed JJ's hand, "I can take care of myself you know." I tell him which causes him to chuckle. "I know you can," he leans down and places a kiss on my lips. He places his hand on my back and pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.

Kie yells at us from the house that we were going to be late for the movies. We back away from each other, hoping she didn't see. "I could get used to that," JJ whispers in my ear before walking back to the house, leaving me speechless to what just happened. Maybe I needed to get mad at him earlier for this to happen. I chuckle at the thought before following after him. Once I see Kie isn't outside anymore, I place my hand in his and he places a small kiss to my temple.

We headed to the movies and, let's just say, all shit broke loose by the end of the night.

[httpsnali]

WEALTHY CHARADE

CHAPTER FIVE: Sacrifice

✬ Pairing: Park Sunghoon x Female Reader

✬ Genre: strangers/enemies to lovers!AU, angst!romance

✬ Synopsis: Forced into a union that promises more complications than peace, you must confront the ghosts of the past and decide if you will bend under the weight of family duty or carve out your own path.

✬ CW: toxic parenting, mild depictions of anger, y/n is really emotional, mild descriptions of anxiety, y/n is a mess

✬ WC: 7.6k

Sunghoon was exceptionally tired. Tired was an understatement. He was exhausted. He had spent the entire day responding to emails and rescheduling his appointments, and was now on his way to the dinner that his father had so frustratingly withheld the details of.  

His friends had expressed their concerns, and Jay had gone as far as threatening to lock Sunghoon in his apartment if he didn’t set aside some time to take a break. Sunghoon suspected they weren’t wrong. When his friends would nag at him concerning his work habits, he would brush it off like it was some playful concern. While he appreciated their sentiments, he knew he had no choice.

He wasn’t kidding when he told Jungwon that he was the backbone of the entire corporation. His father did a good job of being the face of the company, however, he was the one who handled everything behind the scenes. He secured deals with investors, both overseas and locally, sat in directors’ meetings and made sure that they were all in line and made sure to keep up appearances in public. He kept PTC afloat. He wasn’t CEO or anything, his father still held that title, but he might as well have been. He had done well to gain the trust of the directors and knew how employees would whisper in the breakrooms about his incredible dedication and contribution to the company. Sunghoon led the company because no one else could.

The man sitting quietly beside him as they drove to this mysterious dinner, whom he referred to plainly as Mr. Park, was as lousy a businessman as he was a father. Sunghoon regarded him with thinly veiled disdain. From as early as he could remember, his father only saw him as someone he could use to handle his affairs while he went about kicking back enjoying his wealth. Mr. Park would rather spend his time hunting or golfing with stepmom of the month, leaving his responsibilities to his son. The thought made him sneer but he was way past giving his father any kind of reaction.

The silence stretched until his father, staring out at the passing cityscape, finally spoke. “How are things at the company?”

Sunghoon let his father’s question linger for a moment before responding, “Fine.”

There was a pause, then silence befell them once more. Minutes later, Sunghoon’s phone buzzed with a text. He mentally cursed himself for not silencing his phone earlier only to see it was a text from Jungwon. He wasn’t sure how to feel about him still working despite him giving his cousin the rest of the day off. He didn’t linger on it for too long since it would be like the pot calling the kettle black. Jungwon was just as much of a workaholic as him, but he was in no position to say anything about it.

Jungwon: Hi Boss, I know you are at dinner with your father, but I looked into the joint venture rumors with AhnPharma. The media outlet confirmed that their source was credible. Although they didn’t disclose who it was, they said it was from one of the higher ups at PTC.

Sunghoon could feel a migraine coming in. Higher ups at PTC? What were they talking about? No one bypassed him on major company decisions, let alone something as big as a venture rumor, yet he knew nothing about this. Did someone skip protocol and release false information to the public? Unless…

He turned to his father, his suspicion growing.

“Is there something I should know about?” Sunghoon demanded.

“In regard to what?” Mr. Park replied, unfazed.

“Well, for starters, this dinner,” said Sunghoon. “You have given me no details about who we are meeting except that they are old friends of yours. I think I deserve to know more than that.”

Mr. Park scoffed and turned to face his son for the first time since they got into the car.

“It’s easy to believe we deserve things when we have done nothing to merit them.”

Sunghoon arched his brow slightly, already starting to get irritated. “I don’t have time for your word games. Just tell me who we are meeting and while you do that, tell me why I am seeing stories on talks about a joint venture with AhnPharma. Did you know about this?”

“Yes, I did.” Mr. Park admitted without sparing a beat.

Sunghoon pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his frustration, “Why wasn’t I informed about this, since when did you approve of this?”

“Not too long ago, about a month or so.” His father responded casually.

“Why wasn’t I told about this?” Sunghoon took a deep breath, to avoid giving his father the satisfaction of seeing him upset. “How could you agree to this without running it through me first?”

Mr. Park gave an arrogant smirk, “I am running it through you. This dinner.”

“What do you mean? Are we having dinner with people from AhnPharma?” Sunghoon narrowed his eyes, glancing sideways towards his father.

“Just to finalize some details. Shouldn’t take too long.”

Sunghoon didn’t know what was more frustrating about this; his father’s nonchalant tone, or the fact that they were in the finalizing stage of a deal he knew nothing about. His thick brows knitted together in a frown, “This makes absolutely no sense. Why would you agree to this?”

His father looked away and stroked his jaw, ignoring the urgency in Sunghoon’s tone. The car came to a stop signaling their arrival. Sunghoon looked out the window recognizing the neatly kept estate of the Ahn family. He recalls attending a gala dinner with his father years ago, but the memory was too hazy and insignificant to remember much of.

“These are old friends of mine,” Mr. Park explained, “I am just doing them a favor.”

“I didn’t think you had any friends,” Sunghoon said sarcastically. “I can’t help but to wonder if you have a different motive.”

“You always expect the worst from me, Sunghoon.” He accused in a honeyed tone.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” he pocketed his phone and clutched the car door handle. “And anyway, the company can’t go into a joint venture right now, so I guess the only thing we will be finalizing tonight is the fact that this deal is over.”

Mr. Park grasped his shoulder which made Sunghoon flinch slightly. “I gave them my word. We can’t back out now.”

“I don’t care about your word,” Sunghoon shrugged his father’s hand off his shoulder. “Don’t go making promises that you can’t keep. I am the one who gets to decide what is good for this company and what isn’t. You haven’t set foot in that building in thirteen months, you don’t know how things work around here. What makes you think that you can go around making decisions for this company when you don’t even know the people who work there?” he closed his eyes briefly, “Do you realize that a joint venture means we would have to lay off nearly half of our employees? Have you considered that these are people with families to take care of? And what about new policies that they would have to adapt to? Did you consider that at all?”

Sunghoon pressed his lips into a thin line. He needed to keep himself in check. There was no use getting angry over a deal that he was not going to allow to go through. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Look, whatever reason you had for making this deal, I’m sure was…noble.” He said hesitantly after noticing his father’s sullen expression. “However, I’m afraid it’s come in too soon and we can’t handle this right now.”

Mr. Park cleared his throat and adjusted his collar. Sunghoon made a good point. He was so caught up in trying to do a good thing for his friend that he forgot to factor in the people that would be involved.

“Still, we should have dinner with them. Hear them out first, you might reconsider.” He concluded before stepping out of the vehicle.

«

You had just put the final touches into your look for tonight when a soft knock was heard on your door. Thinking it was one of the maidservants coming to assist you, you asked them to come in without glancing at the door. The sound of heels clicking made you look up to see your mother walk in and shut the door behind her. You stood up quickly unsure of yourself. This was the first time in a very long time that she had been in your room. It was an odd sight, nevertheless, you greeted her hesitantly.

“Good, you’re already dressed,” she said, dismissing your greeting entirely. She scrutinized you, looking for noticeable flaws before she approached your vanity and selected a pair of diamond earrings from among your jewelry. “These look better, and get rid of the pearls, they age you up.”

You followed her instructions, hands trembling slightly as you switched the dangling earrings you had on before for the plain but simple diamond studs. With a strut, she walked to the windows gazing out at the lush green gardens. Your mother was a picture of poise and elegance. She wore a perfectly tailored tweed set and had her hair pinned up into a classic French bun. She let out a soft sigh before she turned back to look at you, now having put the earrings on.

“Those earrings were a gift from my father,” she started. “I never got to wear them much, didn’t think they suited me.”

Your fingers flew to your ears as if on instinct and your heart started to beat fast. You realized you were nervous. Your mother was actually holding a conversation with you, and she was being…warm? You weren’t sure how to respond, afraid that anything you said could be used as a point for criticism from her.

“They are beautiful,” You settle on simply stating the obvious. You cleared your throat softly before adding, “are we celebrating tonight?”

Your mother observed you inquisitively, not giving much away with her unreadable expression. Part of you wanted to believe what Aeri said about things starting to look up, that maybe this was your welcome dinner and that they were finally going to admit they missed you through their actions. That maybe distance did indeed make the heart fonder, and your parents had missed you terribly and that just because they were not good with their words didn’t mean they couldn’t show you.

Your mother glanced down at her skirt, brushing away some imaginary lint before she took a step toward you. Still keeping her distance, she clasped her hands in front of her.

“Y/n,” she said, “we’ve decided something important for you. It’s time you stepped up and did your part for the family.”

You held your breath in anticipation as though bracing yourself for impact. You were not sure what had prompted you to act this way, but you didn’t like the sound of it, so your heart sank.

“You know how important family is, don’t you?” she asserted, and you swallowed.

“We’re at a stage where big decisions have started to come into play, and an opportunity has come up for us. You know your father and I have always worked so hard for this family. And sometimes…well, sometimes sacrifices are necessary.”

Her tone was curt and cold. All of a sudden, the room felt smaller, and the air felt thicker. You willed yourself to calm down and stop overreacting because you had no reason to. Still, you suspected that she was about to drop something on you.

“Sacrifices? What are you talking about?” You winced slightly as your hand instinctively rose to your neck, fingers searching for the pendant you always played with in moments like this. Disappointed to only find bare skin your hand lowered, lightly brushing over your collarbone instead.

“It’s about the future. Your future. And the company’s future. This is bigger than just you.” She raised her chin, her tone firm.

“What is bigger than me? What are you not saying?" you pleaded anxiously. Why couldn’t she just get to the point? She sighed deeply glancing toward the door as if wishing she would rather be anywhere else than here, having this conversation with you.

“The company hasn’t been doing so well, and a year from now, we could be on our way to bankruptcy,” she paced the floor cautiously with a solemn expression on her face, “We haven’t been able to acquire new investors for some of our trials and are slowly losing the trust of the ones we have. Two have pulled out already in the past six months, and if others get a whiff of this…well, it could be disastrous for us.”

“Okay, that sounds really unfortunate. But what does that have to do with me?” you ask as she takes a seat on the little bench at the foot of your bed. She arched her brow and scoffed lightly glancing at you for a moment.

“We’ve come to agreement with the Park family. Our investors need a solid succession plan and their son is…he’s an excellent match.”

You stare at her in shock, refusing to believe the words currently coming out of her mouth. There was only one way the Park son could be a successor of the company.

“You don’t mean…” it comes out in a mumble as this gnawing feeling begins to grow in your gut. You grab onto your vanity, leaning on it for support. Your mother avoids your gaze and glances at the door again.

“This is about stability, Y/n. Think about our family’s legacy.” She is defensive and trying to prove her point but all you are wondering is why breathing suddenly feels so hard to do.

“Are you serious?” it takes everything in you to make your voice sound stable and clear, “you’re marrying me off like some business deal?”

“This is not just a business deal. It’s an investment. You stand to benefit from this too!”

Something flips inside you and you’re furious now, “Benefit? How? By being a pawn in your plans? Did you even consider asking me about it? Did you think about what I want?”

The notion of arranged marriages wasn’t new to your family. Your parents’ marriage had been an arranged one. Still, you had expected them to want different for their children. Times had changed. Even if they had still insisted on an arranged marriage, you had expected to at least have the freedom of choice when it came to selecting who you would marry. You didn’t consider yourself reckless and irresponsible when it came to your choice of boyfriends. Granted, you didn’t have that much experience in dating, and most of your past relationships were short-lived, but they were all good people. You were able to choose someone good enough on your own.

“We know this is sudden, but you’ll come to see this as the best for everyone. Sometimes we have to put the family first.”

“No, you decided to put the company first,” Tears began welling up in your eyes. You felt utterly betrayed, unheard and alone, “You never cared about what I wanted. I can’t believe you’d do this to me!”

“Enough!” she snapped and stood up, “It’s already decided. The sooner you accept it, the better.”

It then hits you like a freight train. This whole evening, the dress, the jewelry. They were getting you ready to present you to your so-called future husband. You had walked into their trap without even knowing. You now felt stupid in that dress. You hated it. You hated yourself even more for having a sliver of hope that your parents actually cared about you. You didn’t want to go to that stupid dinner.

“Don’t make this difficult, Y/n. You know how much we’ve done for you,” she bores her gaze into you and takes an unwavering step forward. She tilts her head to the side ever so slightly in a way that makes you shrink back in shame, “You know how much you owe us. It’s time to repay by being useful, don’t you think?”

A shiver runs down your spine as goosebumps rise all over your skin. You swallow, hard and break away from your mother’s gaze. Your palms feel clammy as you dig your fingernails into them. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You clench your fists harder to distract you from the pain you feel elsewhere.

Your mother seems to take pleasure in your reaction. Or distaste over it. Either way, she finally makes her leave but not before telling you to fix yourself up as the guests should be arriving soon. It was only after she shut the door behind her on the way out that you gasped for air releasing the breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding.

You collapsed to your knees on the floor and began to sob. Once the tears began to flow, you couldn’t stop them. You hated this. You hated this so much. You wanted to scream for help, but you knew no one would come to your rescue. It felt worse to know that your mother was right about you owing them. Technically, they were in this position because of you. This was your karma. You deserved to be treated this way; still, it stung like hell.

You squeezed your eyes shut and took big breaths to calm yourself. Straightening back up, you reached for a tissue on your vanity and blew your nose and wiped your tears. You weren’t going to go along with this, you decided. Whoever this guy was, you were going to make him realize just how big of a mistake he would be making to be marrying into this family. You were going to make him run for the hills terrified.

Oh, who were you kidding? There was nothing you could do to undo this. Your mother was very clear that their decision was final. And the part of you that loved to punish yourself suspected that this was the universe’s way of making you pay for your actions. You had lost the resolve to fight years ago when you left this place.

You lifted yourself off the ground and onto your chair. Your makeup was ruined, and your eyes were red. You fixed yourself up really quickly, occasionally hiccupping and tearing up. In the end, you decided to let your hair down to hide your flushed skin. After making sure there were no remnants of your little outburst, you stood up and made your way to the dining room.

«

Sunghoon was reminded of just how much he couldn’t remember this place the moment they entered the foyer. The room looked foreign. The interior design leaned toward vintage with various art pieces on the walls and placed strategically in the corners. It was evident that the owners of this house had a taste for art and finery—he could see why they were friends with his father. An expensive looking Persian rug stretched over the floor and up the staircase, seamlessly uniting the place. Seconds later, a man who looked to be in his late 50s came in through one of the doors.

“Jihoo!” the man greeted boisterously. He gave Mr. Park a fierce hug like they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Hyung‑nim!” Sunghoon’s father responded, “it’s been a while. How are things going?”

“How many times have a I told you to stop calling me that, you’ll make me seem older than I actually am!” he let out a thundering laugh giving Sunghoon’s father a firm pat on the back. “I’m so glad good to see you in person, Jihoo. We’re so used to seeing just your face through a screen,” he paused and took a step back to study him, “Have you lost weight?” he joked.

The two exploded in laughter and it felt odd for Sunghoon to see his father be so likable to someone. He noted how the man mentioned seeing his father through a screen. The two must have been in contact for a while, discussing the details of this business deal. He silently hoped this wouldn’t complicate things too much when he inevitably declined it. The man finally seemed to notice there was a third person in the room when Sunghoon shifted his weight.

“This must be Sunghoon,” the man said addressing him directly. He bowed politely then shook his outstretched hand. The man’s grip was firm and steady.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Sir?” the man repeated, “what’s with all the formalities tonight, eh?” he chuckled.

“We are quite tired,” Mr. Park explained, “the drive from the city was a long one. Hey, why did you have to live so far away? Why can't you get a town house like a normal person?”

The man pocketed his hands and stood up straight. He had an air of confidence and entitlement around him as he said, “The city is way too crowded, and my wife can’t stand the pollution.”

Sunghoon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He hated entitled people. They were the worst sort to go into business with. They would never agree to compromise and always had unrealistically high expectations. Still, he let out a light chuckle to be polite.

“Come though, you must be exhausted.” The man directed the two gents into another room that he could only describe as a waiting room. Similar art pieces were placed around the room while the walls were lined with shelves of different sized books and other vintage looking clutter. The man encouraged the two to take a seat while he walked to the mini bar in the corner and offered them a drink. Sunghoon was more of a cognac guy nevertheless he accepted the glass of whiskey. From the first sip alone, he could tell that wasn’t any cheap liquor.

“So Sunghoon,” the man started once he had sat down as well. He chose the single armchair across from where he and his father were sat, as though choosing to purposely single himself out. “How are things at Park Tech? You father tells me business is going well.”

Sunghoon sat up straight. It was now time to get into business, he didn’t enjoy beating around the bush and believed in tackling his problems head on.

“Things are going quite well. The company’s latest software release exceeded sales expectations and investors are more than pleased with the rise in quarterly earnings. Updates in the weekly board meetings are nothing but good news.”

The man nodded slowly, evidently impressed. Sunghoon felt a twinge of pride. He knew that his efforts did not go to waste, even if they did sometimes take a toll on his personal life.

“I like the sound of that,” said the man then he nodded to Mr. Park, “some talented kid you’ve got here.

“I agree, I wouldn’t have trusted PTC to anyone else. No one knows how to run the company like he does.”

“Which is why he is the perfect man for the job.” The man leaned back into his chair, taking a sip from his glass with a knowing smirk.

Sunghoon took a sip from his glass as well and shifted uncomfortably. He relished the burn of the amber liquid as it slid down his throat.

“Tell me, have you two discussed the details or our arrangement? I’m open to hearing your opinion…or any recommendations.” He laughed in a very businesslike manner that held no real delight in his voice.

His father beat him to it before he could answer. “No, but that’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? I thought Sunghoon should hear it from you first, then we will decide on the way forward.”

“Decide on the way forward? What do you mean, man? The decision was already made, was it not?”

This time, it was Sunghoon to interrupt his father. “With all due respect, sir, the announcement of this venture came quite unexpectedly,” he glanced sideways at his father, “so we have not been able to make the proper arrangements to accommodate it. Especially around this time of year. We have not allocated resources for growth or diversification.”

The man set his glass aside and leaned forward. “But based on your mid-year performance reviews, you seem to be doing well enough to pivot your strategies a little. And who knows, this could boost profitability before year-end.”

Did he know about their current performance? How much had his father divulged to him already? Sure, they were exceeding performance expectations, but they had already used the surplus funds to invest in new hires. They would have to go back to the drawing board and create a fresh budget, and possibly hold back on a few product launches. It was too much, and too soon, and he didn’t understand how he was expected to just say yes.

“What do you know about AhnPharma, boy?” the man questioned. Sunghoon hated the way the word boy sounded on his lips; almost demeaning.

“Aside from what’s common knowledge, I don’t know much, I’m afraid.” Sunghoon admitted sheepishly. He felt so unprepared for this. Had he known sooner, he would have studied more about AhnPharma which would have given him a broader idea of what they were getting into.

The man stood and walked towards a large painting that Sunghoon now realized was of his family. He recognized the man, who sat next to a poised woman who he assumed was his wife. In front of them stood two children: a boy and a girl. They both had similar features, but the boy seemed to be a year or two older than the girl. The painting was done years ago, the man before him currently looked older, grayer. Everything about him felt calculated. Even the way he slowly paced the room as if deciding on the best approach to take with this. Sunghoon wondered if he approached everything in his life in the same manner.

“The company was first started by my great grandfather in the 1920s. He discovered that by mixing and using simple herbs, one could cure different diseases. Together with his brothers, they were able to provide healing salves and medicine to the poor people who were not able to afford professional aid from the hospital at that time. By the time the Korean War broke out, they had already made a name for themselves in medicine and even provided our troops with aid.” He paused and now looked directly at the two and offered a tight-lipped smile.

“I’m not going to go into heavy detail, lest I bore you…”

“You could never bore us…” Mr. Park offered pathetically.

The man gave Sunghoon’s father a brief glance before fixing his gaze back on him, as if knowing where the true power to make the decision lay, and that it lay with him, not his father.

“My point is this; AhnPharma has always been the people’s favorite. We provide the best kind of medical aid to the people of this country and aside from that, we have some of the best investors lined up to support our work.” He sighed and stroked his beard, appearing to be deep in thought. “However, of late, we have started to lose the trust of some of them,” he continued before muttering an insult under his breath. “They believe that they should only invest in something if that thing is guaranteed to be profitable long-term.”

Sunghoon carefully took in his words. He was slowly starting to understand what the man was trying to say.

“So let me get this straight,” Sunghoon started. His glass, which he abandoned long ago, sat on the small table before him. He didn’t like drinking when talking business. “You are essentially looking for investors? You need money?”

Something flashed in the man’s eyes but then it was gone in an instant. He felt his father tense up beside him.

“Well, if you put it like that it makes us look like we’re begging!” He laughed but no one laughed with him. “What we need is something more long-term–”

He is cut off by a soft knock on the door. A servant came in and after bowing announced that dinner was served. He thanked her before she scurried away, looking obviously irritated at having been interrupted.

“Well, we will have to continue this conversation in the next room. My wife hates tardiness.” He says as he stands. They all stood up with him and made their way to the dining room. If money was all he needed, why didn’t he just tell his father that? Why did they need to go into a joint venture? PTC could just invest, that wasn’t so hard to do. He made a mental note to ask Jungwon to see if it was plausible, in the coming week.

They came back into the foyer, and he saw the man’s wife coming down the stairs with a practiced smile on her face. Then, his eyes fixed on you, who was just a step behind her, with your eyes downcast. He immediately recognized you from the painting. You had the same adorable nose and seemed to have grown into your other features. Your hair flowed angelically down your back and the dress you wore hugged your curves so perfectly, he felt his jaw go slack for a second. His face lit up for a second before sensing your sullen mood, then his expression dulled.

Your mother had given you a stern look for choosing to wear your hair down. She hadn’t approved of that; she had started to say. But before she could get a word out, you heard voices coming from the bottom of the staircase. She quickly plastered her welcoming expression and descended to greet them. You followed suit with a solemn expression on your face. Your appetite was long gone, and you could feel yourself starting to give out internally.

“Darling,” your father greeted. You couldn’t stand to see him right now, still bitter that he didn’t consider telling you of his plans to sell you off. “I believe you know Park Jihoo.”

Your mother stretched out her hand for Mr. Park to take. He stepped closer and bowed slightly before reaching for her hand. He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a brief, almost ceremonious kiss against her knuckles—a gesture that felt both old-fashioned and deliberate.

“So, you’re the man that’s been keeping my husband locked in his office at odd hours in the night?” She giggled.

“I apologize, time difference is the one thing I’m afraid I cannot control,” he pauses briefly and takes notice of you “And this must be your daughter. My, what a striking resemblance to you Mrs. Ahn.” He remarked.

“Please, call me Hye Sook.” Your mother chuckled giving him a playful shove.

“Y/n,” said your father, “be respectful and greet our guests.” His tone was firm and commanding. You stepped forward, greeted them and introduced yourself. Sunghoon noticed your forced smile and how you closed off you were being. He also took note of your red rimmed eyes and slightly puffy face. Had you been crying? The evening was proving to be quite strange, if he was being honest. He couldn’t wait to get home after this. Your mother directed your little group to the dining room. Your father walked in step with Mr. Park and spoke to him in a low tone while gesticulating vehemently. This left you with who you assumed was Mr. Park’s son.

The two of you remained silent for a beat while you wondered to yourself why you didn’t just follow your family to the dining room, and why your feet still seemed rooted to the ground even despite thinking this. The tension was so thick and awkward. Sunghoon was the one to break it.

“Y/n, right?” He stretched out his hand which you took albeit hesitantly. “Sunghoon. Just realized I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself,” he chuckled. You must have been around his age. And while he wasn’t exactly on the hunt for new friends, it wouldn’t kill him to be friendly.

It didn’t work. You didn’t even smirk. It was obvious that there was something going on with you, but it felt out of his place to ask. But the way in which you now looked up at him with your round eyes made you look so vulnerable and docile. In a way, it made him squirm in fear that he might spill his darkest secrets if you asked him to. You were small in comparison to his height, so he still towered over you. His breath began to hitch as you blinked slowly, scrutinizing his features.

He was handsome, you could give him that. He had good bone structure and nice teeth which you took note of when he spoke. His hand felt slightly rough to the touch but not too much, an indication that he probably used them a lot. He had very faint eyebags around his eyes. Did he not get enough sleep? His gaze was sharp, and you cocked your head to the side as you lowered your eyes to his lips which parted slightly. You caught a whiff of cologne and whiskey from him. You were studying him, which made Sunghoon uncomfortable. His face contorted and his expression visibly hardened. He cleared his throat and spoke again.

“Uh…maybe we should follow after them.” He stepped back and towards the direction your parents had gone. You quickly fell into step with him as you both made your way. What the hell was that? Why did she look at me like that? What is wrong with this family? He racked his brain and wondered if he was missing something. He then concluded that he was either just exhausted or that there was something strange going on. The sound of voices of laughter poured out of the room and everyone seemed to be in high spirits. You followed behind Sunghoon and went to find your seat. Your parents were opening a bottle of champagne clearly in a celebratory mood. Again, you felt betrayed by their lack of empathy. You quickly shoved your feelings aside, deciding to pull yourself together. You sat in your usual seat only for your mother to tell you that you would be sitting on the opposite side of the table tonight, which put you on Sunghoon’s left while your father sat on his right.

Dinner went by fairly smoothly and by the time you were done with the entrée, your parents had managed to turn almost every conversation topic into talking about you and your achievements and talents. You didn’t even know they knew you like that. It was clear that they were trying to show you off to Sunghoon, to make him realize what a ‘catch’ you were. It was utterly humiliating to sit there and listen to them talk about you like that. Like they were describing the specs of a product to an interested customer.

While he appreciated the gesture that the Ahn’s were making, for whatever reason, Sunghoon was eager to continue his conversation with Mr. Ahn. The three parents were consuming the champagne at an alarming rate which made him anxious. He did not want to continue this conversation another time, or worse, have to come here again. They were now laughing over something his father had said, and he took that opportunity to bring them back to business discussions.

“Mr. Ahn,” he interrupted, tone clipped, “I believe we were in the middle of discussing how we at PTC can help you out of your predicament. I still have a lot of questions.” All attention shifted to Sunghoon, but he did not waver. Business was business after all, and he wanted it to be treated as such. They were behaving in a way that made him feel crazy for being the only one to want to take this seriously. You held your breath and took a sip of your water. Your father’s cheerful expression slowly fell, and he set down his glass with a chuckle.

 “Ah, always straight to the point,” he gave a slow nod, “I admire that. But tonight, it’s less about business and more about celebrating what’s to come.”

Sunghoon frowned and glanced around the table. “Celebrating? What exactly are we celebrating? Nothing’s been finalized yet.” His posture was rigid, with a tightness to it, like he was holding back from speaking his real thoughts.

“Oh, but it has, son,” Mr. Ahn retorted with an almost patronizing smile. “There’s more to this than just contracts and plans.”

You glanced sideways at the man seated beside you. His eyes narrowed and the cords of his neck became rigid. He was clearly not having it, and you had to give it to him for displaying such control. Your stomach tightened and churned in anticipation.

“Then perhaps you would like to explain, because I don’t recall to agreeing to anything yet.” Sunghoon continued.

The older man leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “You see,” he spoke as if recounting a fond memory, “your father and I have been connected for years—through friendship, through shared values. And when my company began facing some…challenges we knew we needed a solution that went beyond mere collaboration.”

“What kind of ‘solution’ are we talking about?” his voice was sharp. His forehead creased as he gazed at the man before him. Out of his periphery, he felt you shift beside him. He heard your breath hitch as though bracing yourself. Mr. Ahn gestured between him and you, and he felt his stomach drop.

“You and my daughter. A union that ensures not just our company’s safety but the strengthening of both our families’ legacies.”

You wanted to collapse. You fixed your gaze firmly on the tablecloth before you, not daring to look at Sunghoon who had turned to see your reaction. You hated every single moment of this. You felt helpless and defeated. This is my fault. This never would have happened if it weren’t for me. This is my karma.

Sunghoon turned back to the man with a scoff, “You’re joking.” He stated simply. He was either joking or just plain crazy. This whole family is full of retards.

Your father reached back for his glass an air of calmness around him. He was being very casual about this like he just successfully bargained on a pair of vintage shoes. “It’s already been agreed upon, young man,” he declared, “There’s a binding contract, with penalties for breach—20 billion won to be exact. The contract has already been signed…”

“Woah, wait a minute,” his voice was now rising, “what contract? You signed a contract? Without telling me? Without my consent?” He was speaking directly to his father now, enraged at this revelation.

It took you by surprise as well. Your mother hadn’t mentioned anything about a contract. Disdain with a mix of betrayal began to fill you. You glanced at your mother only to find her wearing an unimpressed expression as if she was bored by the topic of conversation.

“Now, now, let’s not overreact,” Mr. Park tried to calm his son down, “this is a strategic decision, one that benefits us all.”

You flinched as Sunghoon’s chair loudly scraped the floor as he stood abruptly. His anger bubbled over as he addressed his father. “Benefit? Who?” he turned to your father, “This only benefits you. Your company is failing, isn’t it? And this is your way of saving it—selling your daughter off like some corporate asset.”

You suddenly felt the urge to let him know that you weren’t in agreement with this either, “I had nothing to do with this.” Your voice trembling, but firm.

He whipped his head around. “Didn’t you? You have been sitting here quietly, going along with all of this. You’re just as manipulative as your parents.”

Words could not describe how offended and outraged you were at Sunghoon’s words. You cast him a smoldering gaze as you grit your teeth in rage.

“How dare you?” Your tone was icy as you stood. “You know nothing about me, and you certainly don’t know what I think about any of this! I didn’t ask for any of this!” you felt your face get hot like you were going to explode.

Sunghoon scoffed, incredulous, “Didn’t you? You’ve been sitting here, letting them speak for you. Don’t act like you’re not part of this.”

You began to feel the sting of tears once more and clenched your hands into fists. “How am I part of this? Do you think I wanted any of this? You think I want to marry a total stranger who clearly thinks so little of me?” you exclaimed, your voice rising in exasperation.

“You’re not exactly making it hard to think that. Sitting there, letting them dangle you like bait in front of me—what does that say about you?” his words cut through you with hostility. His own face had turned red, but Sunghoon was past trying to be polite by masking his emotions. This entire night had been a set up and he felt stupid for not having caught on earlier. What, did they expect him to be easygoing and accept their little arrangement? This was his life they were talking about.

Your voice was shaking with anger and hurt. “It says I’m trapped! And unlike you, I don’t get to storm out of deals I don’t like. I don’t get to live my life on my own terms.” You gestured towards your chest feeling your tears begin to well in your eyes. You didn’t miss the way your mother scoffed as she continued to watch the scene unfold before her eyes.

“Oh, spare me the sob story,” Sunghoon narrowed his eyes. He didn’t believe you for a second. “You’re just as complicit as your parents, playing along with this whole charade—”

“I am nothing like my parents!” you stepped closer, jabbing a finger to his chest. “You don’t know me—you don’t know anything about me! All you’ve done is sit here and judge me as if you’re somehow above all this. Newsflash, you’re in it just as much as I am.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I ruin your perfect little arrangement?” he countered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You ran a hand through your hair making a mess of what it already was. You couldn’t care less about it. “You’re impossible!” you scoffed. “You think the world revolves around you and your precious work. You can’t even see that I hate this as much as you do.”

Sunghoon paused for a moment, genuinely taken aback. You took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want to marry a man who sees me as nothing more than an extension of my parents’ schemes. And for the record, I’d never marry someone as arrogant and self-absorbed as you.”

Still angry, but faltering slightly, he watched you closely, pondering on what you just said. You were trapped. You hated this.

“Then why are you even here? Why haven’t you said anything to stop this?”

You turned to your parents, voice raw with emotion. “Because it doesn’t matter what I say! It never does!” Your mother sneered while your father avoided your gaze altogether. “I’m just a tool to you, aren’t I? Someone to pawn off for your convenience. Have you ever cared about what I want? About what this does to me?”

“Y/n, that’s enough! Stop embarrassing us.” Mrs. Ahn said coldly, giving Sunghoon an idea of the kind of relationship you had with her.

“You will do as you’re told. You will not speak to us like that.” Mr. Ahn’s tone was sharp and threatening causing a twinge of anger to bubble in his gut on your behalf.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat and your voice dropped into a whisper, “Why do I even bother? You’ll never listen.” Your eyes are mixed with hurt and defiance. “You already hate me so much.”

You glance at Sunghoon one more time, “Welcome to the family.” Your expression was that of anger and despair, like you had given up on this conversation, or on something else entirely. You walked out of the room, steps heavy as they echoed in the now silent dining room.

A tense silence followed. Only the soft tick of the clock that was at one end of the room and the sound of crickets outside could be heard. Mr. Park was the first to break the silence, his tone condescending as he spoke.

“She’s just emotional. You’ll see, with time—"

“With time?” Sunghoon turned on him, his tone cold and biting. “You think this will blow over? You’ve sunk to a new low. Using a sham like this to manipulate me into something I’d never agree to. You’re exactly the same as always, selfish and untrustworthy.”

Mr. Park’s tone hardened, “Watch your tone, Sunghoon.”

“No!” he cut him off, voice rising. “I’ve watched my tone my entire life. You’ve done nothing but disappoint me, and now you expect me to just go along with this insanity? You’re as horrible a father now as you were back then.”

Sunghoon turns to leave the room as well but not before casting a withering glare at your parents. “You deserve each other.” His voice dripped with disdain. Without another word, he storms out of the room grabbing his coat at the door.

✬ A/N: first written chapter woohoo! it's actually embarrassing how long this took to write. we finally get to know a little more about the characters personalities. i'm still trying to figure out how to work this app so forgive me if my layouts aren't so cute. i haven't posted in so long and unfortunately i can't promise it will get better anytime soon. i start my exams next week so i won't be working on this fic. still i wanted to get this first written chapter out of the way. please look forward to more. also let me know if i should make a taglist for this and then tell me HOW to do it lolll. n e ways reblogs, likes and feedback are highly appreciated. i would love to hear what you guys think is going to happen next. i hope you enjoyed!!! xx

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[thespottedcreature]

Little one, part I

You are Thranduil's adopted daughter and he loves you more than anything, even if you cause a lot of trouble sometimes.

A series that takes a peek into the life of Y/N, the adopted daughter of Thranduil and younger sister of Legolas.

Fandom: Tolkien - The Hobbit, Peter Jackson - The Hobbit movies Characters: reader (Y/N), Thranduil, Legolas, Thorin, Fili, Kili, Balin, Dwalin, Bofur (rest of the company mentioned) and Tauriel Warnings: none really Keywords: child!reader, parental fluff, Thorin's company needs to learn some manners I own nothing except my own writing.

You sneaked around the kingdom, trying to be as quiet as possible. You wanted to see the dwarves that your brother had found in the woods, the ones you were forbidden from seeing. So naturally, you wanted to see them even more. You had never seen a dwarf before, your father wouldn't allow you to, and you were curious. Were they truly so short that ada told them that they were? You sneaked down the stairs that you knew took you down to the dungeons, you knew that they whould be kept there.

This was the perfect night to do this, everyone was up, enjoying themselves, it was the feast of starlight. You had thought it was boring so you sneaked down, knowing that there whould be no guards down tonight. You had tried this before but you couldn't sneak down without being seen, so you just had stayed higher up, listening to them talking in their gruff, and low voices. But now, you made your way down, making sure that your steps were silent. You were a little nervous, your father had warned you about them many times, not to go close to them.

- - - -

Meanwhile, Thorin was sulking in his cell, cursing the elves in his head. He heard the light patter of feet, the stone made them more audible, and he got up, thinking it was one of the guards yet again. "What do you want?" He bellowed and marched to the door, ramming his hands against it and making it rattle, only to see that the hallway was empty. He frowned and looked around, not seeing anyone. "What are you doing, Thorin?" Balin's voice came from a few cells from the left and Thorin could swear he could hear someone snickering. "It's nothing, I thought I heard something." He grumbled and sank back down, resting his head against the stone wall when he saw someone walking on the stone path. "Hey!" He yelled and the figure jumped into the air and disappeared behind a corner.

- - - -

You were breathing heavily, having gotten spooked by the sudden yell. You were evening out your breath, a part of you wanting to run to your father or your brother, and let him comfort you, but most of you was too curious and you pushed the fear aside, peeking behind the corner yet again. There was so many of them, nearly all the cells were full. They were all at the gates, and they looked so ... funny. They were short, and all of them had some sort of beard. They were not fat, but they were a lot bulkier than you. You couldn't control your curiosity, you slowly inched closer. You were in the shadows, so none of them could see you, but you could see them clearly. Most of them looked quite scary, but some of them looked kind. You were so curious, your head full of questions. What did dwarf children do for fun? Was a beard itchy? Was it hard to fight when you were stocky? You just stood there, thinking about what you should do, when the same voice made you jump slightly but it didn't scare you away this time. You inched closer to the border between light and shadow, pondering what you would do. "I can see you standing there." The voice rang yet again, and you decided to step into the light, walking so you were in front of the cell. You stared at him, his hair was dark and the beard he had was short, and his face was a little stunned. You took a tiny step forward and tilted your head, not sure what to do next, your curiosity rising. You decided to see who was in the next cell, so you shifted to see what did that dwarf look like. He had a long white beard and nearly no hair at all. You looked from one to another, they looked so different, yet somehow similar. The latter smiled and leaned to the bars. "What are you doing here, little one?" His voice was gentle and you thought for a moment before you answered. "I wanted to see a dwarf. Ada wouldn't let me so I came on my own." You declared and looked around.

- - - -

The small elfling was talking with Balin, having moved on from Thorin, who kept a close eye on her. She was very young, and her hair was done half up and her eyes shone as she was watching Balin's every move. "What is your name?" The elfling didn't answer straight away but after a little while of pondering. "Y/N." She stated simply and shifted her feet. "What is yours?" She asked Balin, who answered her nearly instantly. "Balin." "That is a funny name." She giggled and Balin huffed. "I suppose." She shifted her weight to see who was at the next cell, only to be met with Dwalin's gruff voice. "What do you want, leave me alone." He banged the bars but the young elf didn't' even flinch, she just giggled and moved on, walking past a few cells before her steps halted. "I like your hat." She was standing in front of Bofur's cell, then. "Why, thank you little one." His voice was gentle, he was good with kids. "Can I ask you a question?" She was still standing in front of Bofur's cell, who answered her, a little hesitantly, but for nothing, because the question she asked was quite sweet. "What do dwarf children do for fun?" She was staring at Bofur with bright eyes, clearly wanting to know the answer. "Well, they play with wooden toys and they play tag and hide and seek and other games." Bofur listed, and she huffed. "Huh. So the same things as I do." She shrugged and pressed herself to the wall, and suddenly pushing herself off of it and jumping over the gap between the two stone paths that ran in front of the paths of the cells, landing on the other side with the agility of an elf. She jumped up to the candle holder and swung back and forth on it for a while before letting go and landing with steady feet, not wobbling at all. She turned to the dwarf that was in the cell that she was now next to.

- - - -

This cell had a young looking dwarf in it with light brown beard and hair. "Can you say something in dwarvish? I would like to hear some of it, ada always says it sounds funny." The dwarf stared at me for a moment but did indeed say a sentence in dwarvish. You giggled. "It sounds like you have a sore throat but you still want to speak." You tilted your head. "But I kind of like it. It's different, but not as horrible as ada described it as." "Who is this ada you talk about?" Another dwarf, this one with dark hair and the smallest of all the beards, was looking at you. He had warm, brown eyes that reminded you of your father's elk. "Ada is my father, it's just funny to call him father when there is a shorter and more convenient word to it." "Your father doesn't sound very pleasant," Thorin growled from his cell, and you turned to him. "No! He is the best. But he might get a little boring sometimes, he doesn't allow me to do many of things, such as..." "Visit the dungeons alone?" You froze at the sound of your father's voice but turned around to face him. "Hi, ada." You greeted him with a quiet voice, knowing that he would be angry. Thranduil stared at you for a moment and the dwarves were silent, observing the situation and settling with the thought that you were the daughter of the king, the king that they hated. You were looking at the ground, not wanting to look at his face, you couldn't see the disappointment in his eyes. Suddenly, you felt hands around you as Thranduil picked you up and hugged you to his chest tightly, taking long breaths. "Y/N, I was so worried, I was sure that a spider had eaten you." You buried your head to his chest, muttering out words as you clutched his robes in your hands. "I'm sorry ada, I just really wanted to see the dwarves." - - - -

"Ada, I searched everywhere, I don't understand where she..." Your brother had arrived, speaking with a nervous tone until he saw you. "Where did you find her?" Thranduil handed you to him, and you wrapped your hands around his neck as you clung to him now. "She was down here, talking with the dwarves," Thranduil answered, sounding a little bit displeased and you shrunk down into Legolas's chest. "Talking with the dwarves, why whould you do that Y/N?" He asked you and you lifted your head from his chest. "I was curious, you whould never let me go down there so I went alone. And the party was boring." Your father just huffed, and took you from Legolas, heading downstairs. "This elloth is going to get a bath and then go straight to bed." "Noooo!" You squealed and went totally limp in his arms and slipped off and ran back towards the cells. "Y/N." Your father's voice was calm, but it had a slightly sharp edge to it as he looked at you. "I am not in the mood for games." You smiled miscefiously and shifted your weight from one leg to another. "Thats too bad, because I am." You stormed over to the path in front of the cells. "Y/N, please. Let's go. I'll read you a story afterward." Your brother tried, slowly inching to his left. But your mind was set, and you weren't about to change it. "No." You stomped your leg to the ground.

The next thing you noticed was that your father was at the other end of the path, and your brother was at the other. "What to do now?" You pondered, and as they moved towards you, you allowed your shoulders to slump. "Let's go and end this foolishness." Your father approached you and you let your head sink down. "Okay." But just as he was going to grab you, you jumped up as hard as you could and grabbed the edge of the path that was running above. You hoisted yourself up, and peeked over the edge, smiling yet again. "Did you really think that I would come that easily?" You didn't wait for the answer, you got up and ran off, giggling, leaving Thranduil and Legolas shaking their heads. They made their way up after you with small smiles on their faces

****

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[ghostdiva]

TADC Ep 4 Trailer Dropped

I've taken many screenshots, and it's time to theorize about how I think the episode will go.

if I'm right, then there will be spoilers ahead, so read at your own volition.

now, I think that for this adventure, Caine utilized the Suggestion Box, after getting the feedback from Zooble that no one really liked his adventures.

However Caine, ever desperate to keep his guests happy and entertained, takes multiple suggestions at once, and turns them into the retail hell the circus crew is about to experience.

before that tho, I think Gangle gets some advice from Ragatha

This advice might backfire considering what happens later.

Gangle is also given a new mask by Zooble, who brings her to their room to give it to her.

Gangle Checks out the new mask, figuring out how it functions in comparison to her comedy mask. my personal guess is that it makes her more confident and assertive, which might boost her moral, but change her attitude in a possibly negative way.

also a small side note that's completely unrelated: there's not a single shot in the trailer that shows Kinger in this adventure. So it's possible he either sits this one out, or just straight up doesn't get much screen time. We got a small clip of Kinger in the circus, but that was it.

Anyway, as Gangle is trying out her new mask, her and Zooble's absence prompt Pomni, Jax, and Ragatha to go see what's up.

Jax and Ragatha will likely question Gangle about the new mask. Pomni might voice her curiosities on how it works too (it's only Pomni's 3rd day in the digital world, so there's a lot she still might not know yet).

Nonetheless, after checking in with Gangle and Zooble, they all head back to the main area, where Caine sends them to work at Spudsy's.

Orbsman is probably the "quest giver". though this time it's not really a quest, it's more like minimum wage food service hell. despite that fact, he still assigns the employee roles to everyone, making Gangle the manager.

Gangle, I think, would be sheepish about this role at first, however the assertiveness and confidence from the new mask helps push her to step up to the plate. So Gangle starts assigning different tasks to everyone. Ragatha, Jax, and Zooble seem to take on tasks like prepping and making food for the orders, like frying the burger patties, assembling the burgers, etc. and Pomni, who can't cook to save herself, ends up running one of the tills at the counter.

and Jax runs the drive-thru for a bit.

eventually, customers start to come in, most of them being wooden artist dolls. However, Caine did reuse some NPC's for this one, which is unfortunate for those who remember them.

idk how to make gif's here, but aside from the gloinks pulling up to the drive-thru, I think Pomni will end up taking Gumigoo's order. Pomni is understandably surprised to see the NPC she bonded with in the second episode, as she literally startles so hard she falls over.

Incidentally, Gumigoo probably doesn't remember Pomni at all, and Pomni might struggle to hold herself together when she realizes it.

Like, look at her. she looks like she's emotionally breaking, but forcing a smile because well, customer service. She also could just be happy to see him alive. I think she might try to sneak off to see if Gumigoo remembers her at all.

idk what else this image could be, outside of like, picking trash up from the ground or something.

Jax also seems to genuinely hate the Fast Food Adventure, in fairness, very few poeple enjoy the fast food industry.

he also takes a moment to cause some mischief

Anyway, onto the main plot. this episode is about Gangle. and with the pressure of being a manager, Gangle might start to boss people around a bit.

there are a lot of shots of characters looking like they need a break, especially Ragatha.

I think it's possible that Ragatha gets tired and worn down from milling about and completing orders. and despite Gangle trying to hype her up, Ragatha just can't summon the energy to keep going. Poor Ragatha is clearly exhausted, and needs a break to like, put her head down for a bit and relax.

Gangle continues to be somewhat bossy, her behavior worsening as time goes on. we see this as Gangle get progressively more unsettling, almost acting crazed whenever someone complains or voices a problem they're having.

Gangle probably starts off trying to hype up the others to get them to do what she needs them to do.

However, none of them really see Gangle as a source of authority, and thus don't take her seriously until she starts to lose her composure.

in this clip, she seems to say the word "now". and look at her. she's clearly struggling with the stress of wrangling everyone, and getting them to do what has to get done for things to flow properly.

However, (except for maybe Pomni) everyone on this adventure hasn't worked in the food industry, or any job for that matter, in years. they've gone on wild adventures every day instead, which is wildly different. on adventures, everyone is kinda left to their devices, to do what they want within the general confines of the adventure. Following orders, and doing monotonous, intensive tasks, both physically, and mentally, is not something they're used to doing. at all.

Thus Gangle struggles to get everyone to do what she needs to, and snaps from the stress.

I think after she snaps, the mask breaks, leaving Gangle with her tragedy mask. so she goes outside to get some fresh air, startling Pomni.

I think Pomni and Gangle chat for a bit, since that seems to be a theme. Maybe Gangle will just be expressing remorse for treating everyone poorly while wearing the mask. she might feel guilty for pushing them all as hard as she did.

and Gangle carries that guilt with her after the adventure ends too.

it seems Zooble has words to share with her tho, so it looks like she gets to have 2 heart to hearts, maybe.

[peppymintdreams]

no idea if u already did this or not, but, perhaps, a fic of xanthus being jealous?

The Silent Storm

Xanthus Claiborne x Love

The candlelit study was quieter than usual, save for the soft rustle of parchment and the faint scratching of Xanthus’ quill. Love sat across the room on the velvet settee, their head bent over their sketchbook. Occasionally, they glanced at their phone, giggling softly at a string of texts.

Xanthus, at his desk, tried to focus on the letter he was composing, but his heightened senses made that impossible. The sound of Love’s laughter—sweet and melodic—had always been his favorite. But tonight, it wasn’t directed at him.

He caught a snippet of their conversation: “You’re ridiculous,” they typed, smiling.

A low, unfamiliar growl reverberated in his chest. His quill hovered above the page, the ink pooling in a dark blot.

“Who are you talking to?” Xanthus asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Love glanced up, startled by the sudden question. “Oh, just an old friend from college,” they replied, their tone light. “We reconnected recently.”

Xanthus’ ruby red eyes narrowed. “An old friend?”

“Yeah,” Love said, oblivious to the tension creeping into his posture. “We used to joke around in art classes. It’s nice catching up.”

The vampire’s grip on the quill tightened, his pale knuckles stark against the dark wood of his desk. “I see,” he said coolly, his gaze dropping back to his parchment.

But his focus was gone.

He’d heard Love mention this friend before, someone they clearly enjoyed talking to. Too much, if Xanthus had anything to say about it. And while he trusted Love, there was something about the ease of their laughter, the way their attention lingered on the glowing screen, that ignited a possessive edge deep within him.

The room fell into a strained silence. Love returned to their sketchbook, but the playful energy from earlier had shifted, weighed down by the icy undercurrent in Xanthus’ demeanor.

When Love giggled again, a sharpness flickered in Xanthus’ gaze. He rose from his chair, his movements smooth but deliberate, and crossed the room in a few long strides.

“May I see what has you so entertained?” he asked, his tone polite but with an edge that made it clear it wasn’t a simple request.

Love hesitated, hugging their phone to their chest. “It’s just silly stuff, Xanthus. You wouldn’t be interested.”

His lips curved into a thin smile, though his eyes gleamed with something darker. “On the contrary, I find myself very interested.”

Their hesitation spoke volumes, and Xanthus leaned down, his tall frame casting a shadow over them. “You know I don’t take well to being ignored, ma chérie.”

Love sighed, sensing his growing jealousy. They set the phone down beside them and looked up at him. “It’s really nothing, Xanthus. Just harmless texts.”

“Harmless,” he repeated, his voice a soft murmur. “And yet they’ve monopolized your attention all evening.”

Love frowned, guilt flickering across their face. “I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored.”

“Then show me,” Xanthus said, his hand brushing their cheek, his touch feather-light but firm. “Show me there’s nothing to worry about.”

With a reluctant sigh, Love unlocked their phone and handed it to him. Xanthus skimmed the messages quickly, his sharp eyes catching every detail.

The texts were innocent, full of jokes and friendly banter. Nothing flirtatious, nothing that crossed any lines. Yet Xanthus couldn’t ignore the way this friend made Love smile—a smile he selfishly wanted reserved for himself.

Satisfied but still simmering with possessiveness, Xanthus set the phone aside and knelt before Love. His cold hands captured theirs, his golden gaze piercing.

“You are everything to me,” he said softly, his voice a velvet caress. “Do not let anyone steal even a sliver of what belongs to me.”

Love’s cheeks flushed. “Xanthus... you know I’d never—”

“I know,” he interrupted, pressing a kiss to their knuckles. “But indulge me, darling. My heart, though it no longer beats, is yours entirely. And jealousy, it seems, is a stubborn remnant of my mortal days.”

Love smiled, their tension melting under his rare vulnerability. “You don’t have to be jealous,” they murmured, leaning closer to press their forehead against his. “I’m yours, Xanthus. Always.”

His lips curved into a satisfied smirk, and he pulled them into his arms, holding them close. “Good. Because I don’t share well.”

And though his jealousy was far from quelled, Xanthus knew that Love’s loyalty was steadfast. For now, that was enough.

[heartthrobxhook]

Killian had felt the pain in James' voice when they fired upon the Dauntless and watched him disappear below deck. Some guilt bubbled up in his chest as if that had been the Jolly Roger he would've felt the same pain. The captain did not follow, no words could comfort the man and he was sure his presence was not wanted. He would give James his space and some time to recover.

After some days Killian needed his new navigator to step up. Working together with him and the crew tensions eased back down, even getting James to laugh and sing along with their shanties. Killian admired how the other was finding himself and the change that took place, James was coming out of his shell and being the man he was meant to be. He couldn't help but think to himself James looked better this way. Though his type had always been the tall rugged men.

Late in the morning the lookout called attention to sails. Killian was excited for this as he came down beside James and used his spyglass to look out at the vessel. "Not just any merchant ship, an East India Trading company ship." There was darkness in his tone as the royal navy might've betrayed him it was the East India Trading company that killed his former crew. He handed the spyglass over to James and turned to his crew.

"We leave no quarter to these dogs! I want every man gutted on that ship, show no mercy as they would show none to us!" Killian called out with a growl to his tone. The usual cheerful demeanor set aside with a bloodbath on the horizon. "Hard to starboard! Ready the long guns! Aim for the masts, we don't want to damage the cargo! Full sail!" He began shouting orders and the crew hurried to follow. The ship making the turn towards the merchant ship, the captain easily shifting his weight on his feet to keep steady. He looked to the men raising their flag and fully opening the sails to give them more speed towards their target.

His attention turned back to James. "Will you be participating or standing by and watching?" Killian asked curiously. He had told James he didn't have to, but wondered if he could convince the man to join in on the action. "You really going to miss out on the thrill of battle? I should also mention those who don't participate don't get a cut of the loot. So if you want to enjoy the spoils you're either joining in the fight when we board them or you can go down below and help man the cannons."

James had never been much of a drinker, but after the first few glasses shared with Killian, he found himself succumbing to the warm camaraderie of the evening. The pirate captain’s charm was disarming in ways James couldn’t resist, and before long, his usually sharp composure had dulled. By the time the next glass was poured, James’s sentences were slurred, his laughter easy, and his posture decidedly relaxed.

When sleep overtook him at last, he barely registered Killian’s arms slipping beneath him to carry him. A soft, unguarded murmur escaped James’s lips as he nuzzled into the captain’s shoulder, his voice hazy and faint: "Mm such a fine man…" It was unclear if the words were meant for Killian or some dreamlike echo, but they were cooed.

The following days aboard the ship were strangely pleasant. James had braced himself for rough treatment—mockery, or worse, disdain—but the crew’s friendliness left him quietly bewildered. They seemed genuinely happy to have him aboard, offering small gestures of kindness, whether sharing a drink or including him in their songs.

It was… unfamiliar. James had always been surrounded by duty, formality, and expectations. The camaraderie here, though coarse, was warm in a way he hadn’t known before. He didn’t let on, of course, maintaining his air of polite detachment, but the realization stayed with him.

Still, it wasn’t enough to quell the ache in his chest when Port Royal came into view.

As they approached Port Royal, James’s sense of unease grew. The sight of the familiar coastline made his chest tighten, and he stood at the quarterdeck, tense, as Killian gave his orders. When the Interceptor was cut loose, James felt a flicker of relief—until Killian gave the command to fire.

The mortar cannon’s roar was deafening, and James’s breath caught as he watched the fiery explosion rip into the Dauntless. His Dauntless. The ship that had been his pride, his home.

"No!!"

He couldn’t bear it. The sight of its sails collapsing in flames felt like a dagger to his chest. The laughter from Killian and his crew twisted the knife further. Without a word, James turned on his heel and descended below deck, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

He found a quiet corner in the dimly lit hold and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees as he pressed his hands to his temples. The muffled sounds of chaos above—screams, cannon fire, the laughter of pirates—felt unbearable.

How had it come to this? His ship, his home… reduced to ash under his watch. And he, Commodore James Norrington, could do nothing but flee below deck, shame and helplessness intertwining into a knot in his chest.

--

The days following the attack on Port Royal were strained. James kept his distance from Killian, offering little more than curt nods and terse answers when spoken to. The warmth of their earlier camaraderie seemed to evaporate, replaced by a quiet storm of resentment and guilt that lingered in James’s chest.

The crew, for their part, remained kind, but even their spirited songs and good-natured ribbing couldn’t coax James from his thoughts. He spent most of his time below deck or on the forecastle, keeping to himself.

That was until their course brought them into unfamiliar waters, and his skills were needed.

“You’re needed, Commodore,” one of the crew said with a playful lilt, standing behind James at the railing.

James turned, the title stinging like salt in a wound. “Former Commodore,” he corrected, his tone clipped. But he followed, unwilling to let his lingering frustration blind him to the importance of safe navigation.

The work steadied him, as it always had. Soon, with the wind in his hair and the sun setting behind them, James found his mood softening against his better judgment. Killian’s charm was insidious, creeping into their exchanges, and before long, James was reluctantly laughing at some roguish quip.

The crew didn’t help matters, offering drinks and hearty encouragement to loosen up. Over the next two weeks, James began to ease back into their rhythm. He still held onto his pride and an edge of formality, but the walls he’d built were cracking. Even singing along when the rum was plentiful enough.

By the time two weeks had passed, James was nearly unrecognizable from the pristine commodore who had first stepped aboard. His once-clean-shaven face now sported the start of a scruffy beard, his hair growing untamed. He was no stranger to drink now, though he maintained enough restraint to avoid full debauchery—most of the time. For he was looser around Killian and couldn't help the way his eyes looked at him when he was under it's influence. Wanting more than just brandy and company.. but refused to admit that to himself when sober.

He was leaning against the railing with a half-empty tankard when the lookout called down from the crow’s nest:

“Sails off the starboard bow! Merchant vessel!”

[awakenthebeing]

Pipoe kawaii!

Both of your words in particular have caused Piepoe to feel very joyful and warm...!! It appreciates!!