#this is half-projection half-character study
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
salty-an-disco · 9 months ago
Text
*thinks about how there's several different versions of Hero who acts a little different depending on which route you take him through–*
*thinks about how the Hero that appears in the middle of the final battle describes himself as being 'all of them'*
*thinks about how all those different Heroes might not have been able to completely integrate themselves into a single individual*
Conclusion: Hero would develop a system (a median system, to be more exact)
Yep. This was the main reason I started drawing different variants for Hero in different chapters and givin' them different names, everyone can go home now /lhj /silly
Anyway, since I already drew all the guys, might as well talk about them in the context of Hero being a system
Tumblr media
(note: I've semi-recently found I, myself, am a system, so a lot of this is me processing this stuff and trying to puzzle things out through my blorbo. shout out to Hero for making this discovery a lot easier to digest. that means a lot of what I'm writing here comes from my own experience and perspectives. Also, I'll be calling the different Heroes 'facets', as that represents better what they are to him)
Since they all come from the exact same source (forms through Chapter I), they don't really see themselves as all that separate or different people. The different titles are more nicknames than anything, they're all 'Hero', just– from a slightly different angle and with different roles/priorities. Hero doesn't hear distinct voices in his head like Quiet, he's more like Shifty, in a way, having their feelings and different texture affect his behavior.
Hero is vaguely aware of these different facets, even giving them those titles as a way to organize and understand himself, but doesn't worry too much about it. That's just how he is.
As for the different facets and their role within the system–
– Hero: Host; front-stuck – Technically speaking, his route would be the Stranger one, as that's where he spent the least amount of time in Chapter I and didn't develop any other identity besides 'Hero'. Not necessarily the 'original', and would rather not worry about that lest it triggers another existential crisis, but is definitely the 'main one'. The main face that's always there. Behavior and thought-process can change depending on other facets present.
– Savior: Protector/Persecutor – Formed when his will power was broken and subdued by someone far stronger. Is intent on not letting that happen again. Very headstrong and certain of himself; he has to be, or else their willpower will break again. Mainly appears to help deal with threats much bigger than them. (Fun fact: in warped AU, he and Hero were fused together)
– Champion: Physical Protector – Formed by a desire to fight and persevere against an opponent that can kill you. Very strategy-minded, focused on better ways to get out of a confrontation alive. Will always try to get out of battles with the least amount of injuries to the body possible. Does not like confrontation, but will go through it if it means survival. Appears anytime there's a need to fight and/or survive. Often alongside Savior or Fledgling.
– Liar: Social Protector/Caretaker – Formed when forced to betray someone you previously intended on helping. Despite the title, Liar is very aversed to lying, and despises when others are being dishonest. Why play these weird games that just makes things more difficult? Can't we just be blunt with each other and makes things easier? Appears when the host feels judged or like he's being given an unfair assumption during a social encounter, or later on, when the host is thinkin' back to a certain social situation that didn't go too well. Helps process those leftover feelings and make sure the host is doing well emotionally and socially.
– Fledgling: Protector – Formed when made to feel cornered by a dangerous creature and clawed to death. Similar role to Champion, in theory, though he appears, more broadly, when the host starts feeling cornered in any way. Which doesn't happen solely in physical fights. Very helpful when appearing to deal with a physical threat, not so much when the threat is more emotional or social.
– Dashing: Emotion Holder/Uplifter – Formed from a desire to do nothing but good to someone else. Not as positive and optimistic as his paired voice during The Damsel, but still makes sure the host doesn't forget there's always a bright side and some hope to hold on to. Makes sure the host is taking the time to appreciate the things and people he love and that he isn't getting to caught up in worries and anxiety. (EDIT: may change this facet's name to 'Prince')
– Accomplice: Memory Holder/Cheergiver – Formed when despite your misgivings, you put your trust in someone else. His role is more vague than the others, but is generally there to give support to those outside of the system. Makes the host take a step back and let someone they trust take the reigns, for once.
– Haunted: Caretaker – Formed while spending a good few lifetimes in Nothingness. Not exactly sure what he's supposed to do here, but tries his best to help. Took some pointers from Cold and encourages the host to put feelings aside for now, if only to focus on taking care of the body before diving back into them. The one that knows self-care, and appears when the body desperately needs it.
– Dreamer: Trauma Holder – Formed as you tried to close your eyes and pretend there's no danger just in front of you. This one is Trauma Personified and mainly only appears when the host is triggered. When he appears, it's very difficult for Hero to differentiate reality from delusions, and it feels like he's back in the construct, fighting for his life and sanity.
– Ribbons: ???/Shell – Formed across 4 chapters; as more pieces broke off, very little was left of him. Less of a facet and more a general feeling of Nothingness. That can be useful when the host is feeling too overwhelmed to think. Just kinda makes Hero zone out and shut down when he appears.
Tumblr media
Bonus: what it looks like when some of the facets are close to front. Whether or not Hero will shapeshift depends on how long a facet lingers, and how much they're affecting him. Often, he doesn't shapeshift at all despite the many facets that appeared throughout the day
108 notes · View notes
gojosoups · 3 months ago
Text
Best Friends Don't Fuck Like We Do
cw: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), squirting, fratboy gojo, best friend gojo, college au, fraternities, f! reader, all characters are 18+, MDNI, not proof read <3
a/n: I have a clincial neuropsychology midterm tmr and instead of studying for that, I wrote this <33 edit: let's pretend it said group project instead of group assignment since the beginning 😭😭😭😭😭
Tumblr media
Best friend!Gojo Satoru who’s absolutely addicted to the sight, taste, and smell of your pussy. His nose buried between your pretty wet lips, sniffing you like a nasty dog, before lapping eagerly at your sweet folds.
Your legs thrown over your best friend's shoulders, folded in half on his bed as he licks away at your sweet nectar, loudly gulping your juices while his skilled fingers rub fast circles on your engrossed clit.
Your poor pussy weeping as he devours you, making a mess out of you in his stupid frat house. Maybe it was a bad idea to pair up with your best friend for a group project, papers and pens hastily thrown onto the floor and long-forgotten as Satoru keeps your mouth and pussy busy.
Each flick of his tongue makes you want to close your thighs (if that's even possible, considering the bruising grip he has on them), your fingers tugging at his hair, wanting to push him away but also to pull him closer and suffocate him between your thighs.
With each thrust of his tongue, he grinds his weeping, twitching cock against the mattress, the bed creaking as he eats you out sloppily, licking away at your slippery wet folds.
Replacing his thumb with his nose, he grinds his face against your pussy. Nose playing with your sensitive clit, making you arch your back and raise your hips higher in his hold, wanting to run away from the euphoric pleasure as each thrust of his tongue inside your warm walls brings you closer to your orgasm.
A sob tears through your throat as his lips latch onto your clit, replacing his thumb as he sucks eagerly at your sensitive bud. Spraying him in your juices and coating his face with your essence, you only further encourage him to drink you up, to clean you up faster.
With a satisfied groan, he releases your trembling legs from his hold, letting your legs pathetically fall onto the bed as he climbs over your naked form. His chin and lips covered in your juices as he grins, pulling you into a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself before going again for another round. 
Tumblr media
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.
7K notes · View notes
luvether · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
STAR-SHAPED BRUISES ✦ he who once felt the cold touch of death before, so why did it matter if he risked it again? Only that it did matter, to you, and your yearnings for him felt so warm it almost made him want to be selfish.
anaxagoras x gn!reader. angst? & fluff! content. hurt with comfort (?) tensions and arguments. yearning and hidden pining. cerces playing matchmaker. might be ooc + anaxa character study. written before 3.2 and spoilers for the 3.1 story! [2.4k wc]
tagging @rainswept @eterjie @kazucee !!
Tumblr media
“You seem troubled today, more than usual.”
The thin-layer of soundlessness is quickly replaced by the tamed billow of Anaxa’s tone, one that seems like he’s questioning for the sake of curiosity and not because of empathy. Looking up at how busy he looked, his eyes maintained upon his alembic that bubbled a violent cyan-gold hue, any second and you’re sure it’s gonna fulminate from the vessel.
You shift from your seat, feigning skittish. “Did my morose pique the curiosity of the grand performer? Or are you simply worried?”
“Neither.”
“What a benumbed reaction, Anaxa—“
“—goras.” He finishes for you. Usually, whenever he’d add on your behalf, you’d combat it with a snide but today, he’s left with nothing but silence. This made him look up from his instruments and papers, your lack of reactions made him forgo his current experiment.
It made him almost worry, almost.
He sighs instead. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing is the matter.”
“You’re quick to lie to me,” Anaxagoras is now facing you, laying a hand on his hip. “That seems like something.”
The way he conducts his questions is making you want to be defensive with your petulant behavior. “Even if something is on my mind, I don’t see why I should be telling you about it.”
“Maybe you should, because if I can find some way to help, your mood would lift, no?”
“Since when have you cared about my moods?”
Silence then.
“Are you aware of what the principle of correspondence is?” Anaxa mutters out and you have the urge to exhale.
“Please spare me a lecture…”
“As above, so below, as within so without.” The professor starts nonetheless. “Everything around us is a mirror that reflects a projection on both our inner and outer manners, think of the relationships as interconnected roots of trees or simply dendrites. It’s the simple work of magic tricks—human behaviors more so than divinity at play.” Anaxagoras approaches you, the chains of his eyepatch filling the slowness of the room.
He levels his face with yours and from your position, you can clearly anatomize the fullness of his eye from here—the hollow of mint with a cut of boysenberry in the center, glowing beneath long lashes.
He continues, “even if I’m half-dead as what that titan said, I can still feel your vibrations and stress, an internal conflict, it’s making shoddy trembles of my glass flasks on that desk.”
“How does that even—“
“Your feet.” Anaxa finally says. “You were unconsciously tapping your feet.”
Oh.
You lay your palms flat on your knees, an unconscious manner.
“I apologize.”
“So you have the decency to apologize and yet not speak your mind further?”
The silence is indefinite yet present. It shallows over at every retort that spills in between both your stubborn tongues.
You shake your head. “You’re difficult.”
His eyes narrow. “You are the one being difficult, actually. I offered help, you refused, I asked about your well-being, you dismissed me.”
“You should consider how your candidness makes it exceptionally hard for me to be open to you, maybe think about that.” You bite back at him, the tension threatening to spill over. “You’re the last person I’d want to go to whenever I have worries, so just simply drop it for today. I’d have to apologize for my lackings, I'll provide you with better companionship and arguments when I’m feeling well.”
“…Truly, I didn’t mean to come off as heartless—“ but you’d already brush past his shoulder before he can fully explain himself like he’d always have, leaving Anaxa to his bubbling vessels, untidy scrolls and a heavy sigh.
Much to his dismay instead of the privacy that he wishes after that argument, Cerces appears just as you vanish from his sight, a liquidy chuckle slipping past their lips. “Sometimes, I even wonder if your heart died along with you, child of humanity.”
“I’d rather you keep silent while I work.” Anaxagoras distastefully returns back to his apparatuses, more quiet and solemn than before.
“You should give chase.” Cerces suggested instead. “That child was simply worried.”
“Worried?” He finds the titan’s words as credulous. “Did you not see the flush of anger directed at me? Besides, I’m preoccupied right now.”
“You say you’re preoccupied and yet it’s you who seem quite distracted. Are you curious about their source of trouble?”
“It’s nothing new, arguments like that. We’ve known each other long before you ever knew me on my deathbed so back off.”
When he’d state his intentions clear, the Titan of Reason—unfazed in their countenance—leaves the professor to his own bearings and he finally has room to breathe.
Your relationship with him has always been rocky. Arguments and walking outs weren’t new, you used to debate about claims and theories a multitude of times back in the Grove, it was part of your dynamic, but every time he realizes belatedly how his string of words had cut you deep beyond the usual shallow jabs thrown on a daily, Anaxagoras cannot help but feel like his hollow chest is being twisted upside down.
In some way, maybe it mattered because despite the clashes and quarrels, you’d stay. You’ve stayed by him for years even after he was ridiculed as a blasphemous fool or a heretic—you’d stay even longer, waiting for him to finish lectern speeches or classes without so much as an ounce of complaint. A simple gesture that he’d been grateful of and even he admits to himself that seeing you being upset with him and his words were the least satisfying things to behold.
It did bother him but admitting that aloud to that titan was the last thing he’d want.
So after an hour or two after he knew you’d calm down, the professor drops his vials and walks down the distasteful and boisterous streets of Okhema in search of you—or more specifically, cruising over to Hyacine and asking for your whereabouts to save him the trouble of turning the Holy City upside down.
It was tempting, for the sake of bringing an irate reaction out of that woman and her golden threads, but his sick body and rational mind stopped him so.
“You are here.”
Anaxagoras has finally found you in some remote corner of the city, you were sitting shiftless above limestone, carving names upon ordinary stones. There was a spare moment in which his dull eyes sought down to you—he’d noticed how your hair is wind-swept and how strands of it stick to your forehead and the skin of your neck. The leaves of your collar are strewn as well, showing the barest hint of collarbones and almost immediately Anaxa shifts his eyes away, he’d asked what you were doing to distract himself from his own keen observations.
“Nobody will remember each scholar that perished fighting the Black tide. I’m merely writing companions I remember that I used to do thesis with, those that don’t have families here in Okhema to remember them…”
Anaxa observes you again, then after a long silence you feel him approaching closer, his shadow stretching before you. Your mind stirs in alertness, noticing what he’s up to—but Anaxa is always two steps ahead of you, before you can cease the pen laid by your side, he has already swiped it. You tried your best to wrestle it from him but Anaxa held it out of reach from you, causing you to sneer.
“Give that back. I forbid you to write your own epitaph!”
“And why not? I’ve done it once in the Grove—“
“Well, this isn’t the Grove—!“ You've paused quickly, noticing that you interrupted him. You waited for an ire to come throttling down at you but when you gaze back at him, Anaxagoras merely raises a brow at you, a faint sheet of amusement in his expression.
“Give me a stone.” He’d ask.
“No—“
“Stone.”
Your shoulders deflate at his tight tone, accepting defeat with petulance and a huff.
Stubborn man, you curse in your head. Stubborn and hard-headed and mean…You digress, ending up giving him one, laying the stone harsher onto his open palm than you intended but his expression remained amused.
When a balance of tamed silence settles, Anaxagoras is the first to speak again after writing an elegy onto the stone, changing the subject with ease.
“It's getting late, you should retire for today.”
And in response, you turn away with a quiet huff of breath. “I‘m…still not used to the Holy City's constant daylights, and I should be saying that to you, the moment you were given apparatuses to quell your complaints, you’ve been doing nothing but your experiments since you’ve arrived from your fight in Castrum Kremnos.”
“Well, thanks to your concern this ill-stricken body has been recovering. Besides, I have nothing much to do, especially when that woman’s threads are all over the place.”
“You almost died.” Your statement held more bite than necessary. For you it showed him your true feelings and for Anaxa—the answer to today’s dismay.
A laugh breaks from his lips.
“Is this why you’re upset?” There’s a hint of mirth in his tone. “You’re upset that I got hurt back at the Grove.”
You rise from your seat, meeting him tooth for tooth, jab for jab. “Is it truly hard for you to comprehend that there are people that care whether or not you’re doing well—?”
Despite your anger, Anaxa is distracted for a moment, watching the sneer on your lips shaping vowels and long consonants, almost as if you're baring his teeth at him. The sudden urge to lean down, kiss you quiet and taste those angry syllables on his teeth stirs in his mind.
The Nousporist sage is anything but a romantic, but temptation truly is a humanistic sin, what is he to be shameful for such selfishness?
“It’s not that.” He answers your spite with dullness. “My field of study has made it easy to forget about one's well-being. You of all people know that very well.”
“Anaxagoras, you could’ve died again and—“
He never wanted for you to concern yourself with him like this. Anaxagoras knew he was risking himself, the nuances of alchemy and the splitting of his soul. So how come—observing the way your expression creases with a certain type of pain that makes it seem like you were the one that felt it, not him.
“If you continue like this, I would go through the same grief of losing you like I did the first time around.”
“Don’t say that, as a Chrysos heir it’s bound to—“ Anaxa is surprised when you reach out to touch him, to dare touch him so freely and yet rebuttals fall flat on his heavy tongue. The warmth of your fingertips that brush over the coolness of his own palm, you bring his hand up to cradle your cheek with utter delicacy like you’re holding glass, it makes his mind go numb.
He is aware of the way his skin dances with the plush warmth of your cheek, strands of your hair he wishes to tangle between his long fingers—to give into temptation and drag his hand slowly down your jaw, the expanse of your neck, down your arms…
“You really should start taking care of yourself more.” Your lips murmur onto his open palm. “Maybe not for yourself, but for me and Hyacine.”
He swallows. ”…I cannot keep promises.”
And you’d feel a faint tug on his end—and that fissures the tension. You let go and he quickly lets his own arm fall back to his side immediately. There’s a part of you that was terrified at the thought of offending him, you never got into Anaxagoras’ bubble without permission, your relationship stayed at a mere arm’s length. Only quirked lips with tongues of appraisals and maybe the occasional longing stares from across large rooms were exchanged between the two of you, no shoulder brushing, hand-holding, breaths upon goosebumped necks—this was your first time ever touching him, his numbed, cold skin against your own.
Maybe your sudden approach shocked him from his nonchalance and arrogance, you’d know because for the first time since you’ve known him, Anaxagoras’ frown is an inch too deep and there’s a concerned fold on his brow.
He clears his throat, his eye looking anywhere but at you. “I need to go, I have to meet with the other Chrysos heirs at the baths today.”
Anaxa looked quite adamant to join the meeting, despite his distaste of the baths and Chrysos heir meetings.
He spares you one last look, “after you’re done with your business, you really should try to rest.”
You frown at his dismissive behavior, nodding your head nonetheless. “Alright, best of luck then.”
He’d merely nod stiffly at your reply and quickly turn on his heel. You would have let out a heavy exhale and scold yourself for touching him without prior permission—if it weren't for a certain titan that appeared before you, their brown curls turning gold under Kephale’s dawn.
“He’s quite provocative, that Nousporist sage, don't you think so too?” Cerces spares you conversation, their voice honeyed with light teasing.
“Anaxagoras’ probably born to be spiteful, so I cannot fault him for such a character flaw, we all have one.”
“You’re fond of him, aren’t you?” Cerces states and heat furnaces upon your cheek at their bold claim. Before you can find some excuse to defend yourself, they spoke again.
“So is he to you. I’ve noticed that whenever you’re around, he’s reduced to a passive child. His tongue is barely glib when you try to put him in his place and the way those sharp eyes soften, oh it reminds me of my lover all too much. It’s an endearing exchange.”
Cerces spoke their affections and you could do nothing but listen to them with a credulous expression. Anaxagoras being endeared by you? You’d try to wrack your mind of instances where you capture such a manner, but all you can remember of him was his sassiness, his dullness, his casual dismissiveness. There was no softness, endearments, fondness.
Despite being called the Titan of reason, you find their reasoning hard to comprehend.
You wouldn’t have believed them, that is until you gaze back at Anaxagoras’ retreating form in the distance and watch him closely, and closely you watch when you catch him moving his hand that you held so closely,
Observing how he flexes his fingers by his side.
Tumblr media
623 notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago
Text
Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys (Sumeru + Fontaine Edition).
Characters: Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, and Wriothesley.
Word Count: 2.7k.
TW: Borderline Shitposting, Prolonged Imprisonment, Varying Levels of Emotional and Physical Abuse, Codependency, Mentions of Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.
Tumblr media
Alhaitham
It took Alhaitham about ten minutes to drag himself out of bed, his staggered footsteps audible through the thin walls of his apartment.
It took twenty for him to haul himself through his morning routine – water running somewhere in the distance and porcelain clattering against marble countertops as he washed his face and tried to work some life into himself. Alhaitham usually wasn’t so lethargic, but he’d had a rough week. There’d been a sudden influx of paperwork for the Akademiya’s sole scribe, and every second he didn’t spend buried under new legislation and requests for increased budging was, instead, dedicated to one of his many personal research projects. By the time he’d gotten home last night, it’d been all he could do to make sure you hadn’t starved to death and drag himself to bed.
He usually would’ve kept you waiting for a few more minutes, but an agitated grunt marked an end to his normal patterns. In a moment, he was braced against the doorway to his own study, his eyes narrowed half-hearted towards where you sat in his leather-padded chair, your feet propped on his desk. There was an book open in your lap – one of his, something about metaphysics and ley line abnormalities and how both tied into the Inazuman politics. He eyed it wearily before speaking, his voice still deep with exhaustion. “Where did you put my hearing aids?”
His tone was accusatory, his irritation visible. You put on your sweetest smile. “Where did you put my novellas?” you signed, thinking for a moment before adding, “Bitch?”
“They aren’t ‘novellas’, they’re—” He cut himself off with a scoff. “They’re filth. I don’t want you rotting your brain with smut.”
“The plots are very—”
“The plots are half-baked excuses for paper-thin characters to fondle each other in locations you can tell the author didn’t take the time to properly research and—” His gaze flickered to you, his frown deepening. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“You’ve read them?”
There was a long beat of silence.
Finally, he let out a labored sigh. “The dozen or so I couldn’t be bothered to throw away are in a cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. It’s locked – the code is your birthday. Now, where are my aids?”
“You fell asleep with them on last night,” you said aloud, abandoning his glorified textbook and pushing yourself to your feet. His hand shot to the side of his head, finding the metallic cuff only slightly displaced by having spent the better half of the night on his head. As you passed him, you paused, pressing a kiss into the corner of his scowl and pretending to ignore the muffled groan he let out in response.
Neuvillette
Of all the sights you thought you might see after arriving in your wonderous new nation, the Iudex of Fontaine standing over your drained bathtub with a look of potent remorse written across his expression was not one of them.
You’d imagined yourself strolling through the walls of the Opera Epiclese in vivid detail, been able to picture exactly what you might’ve seen standing below the Tower of Ipsissimus or above the bottomless pit that was the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, but even after you’d found yourself in the smothering care of Monsieur Neuvillette, you never would’ve been able to conjure this sight. He usually insisted that you bathe together, going so far as to have an in-ground tub that could’ve easily been mistaken for a hot spring installed in his (until recently neglected) personal residence to better indulge the habit. Thankfully, the trial he’d been presiding over had run long today, and you’d been able to save yourself an hour of his calloused hands running over your body, of his eyes burning into your skin with a nearly inhuman focus. You knew he’d be disappointed. Irate, even, depending on how his trial swung.
You hadn’t expected him to be so… sulky about it.
Half-lidded eyes, a slight pout tugging at the corner of his lips as he lingered idly in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the in-suite bathroom. Steam and silence laid heavy in the air – the latter you were eventually forced to break as you fiddled with the hem of your robe. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, hoping more to break the tension than to make him think you were genuinely apologetic. “It was getting late, and I didn’t know when you were coming home. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.” When he didn’t respond, you braced yourself for the worst. “If you’re angry, please say so. I… I’d rather get this over with now, if it’s all the same to you.”
His expression softened. He let out an airy sigh and, with only a moment of hesitation, closed the space between you. “I’m not angry.” A pair of lean arms wrapped around your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale, and did what you could to suppress the shudder that ran up your spine at the thought of him basking in your scent. “I’ve just been… looking forward to it, I suppose. Your taste relaxes me.”
Immediately, you went rigid. “My… taste?”
“Mhm.”
“Neuvillette,” you started, very slowly, giving your own mind time to catch up to the dread slowly building in the pit of your stomach. “Have you been drinking my bathwater?”
He was quiet for a not inconsiderable amount of time.
Finally, he pulled away from you just far enough to speak. “…no?”
For your own sake, you decided to believe him.
Kaveh
“Kaveh.”
“Not now, treasure.”
“Go to bed.”
“I will, in another hour.”
“You need to get some sleep.”
“I’ve already told you – I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes, expression contorted by concentration. “Knight to B4.”
“Kaveh,” you repeated, leaning across the table. “You were showing me your blueprints.”
“Oh.” He blinked several times, looking over the sheet of blue paper marked with chalk drawings and near indecipherable hand-writing. “Were you impressed?”
Your frown irked, but you swallowed back your exasperation and pushed yourself to your feet. Slowly, you took him by the hand and, when he failed to protest, guided him out of his own seat and towards the room you were usually restrained to, when he wasn’t home. He’d kept himself awake for the past two nights, every moment of the past forty-eight hours devoted to finishing his proposal for a wealthy commissioner’s summer mansion before its upcoming deadline and, now that the coffee had been drained from his system and his adrenaline had been given time to fade, he was practically a shell of a man – all dark circles and hunched posture and disheveled blonde hair.
Sleep deprivation was, by far, the worst thing he could inflict on himself. At least he was happy after he drunk himself into oblivion. This was just depressing; as miserable for him as it was for you.
With a dutifulness you shouldn’t have had to show to your lover-turned-stalker-turned-captor, you brought him to his bed and watched as he collapsed onto it, what little strength he had to hold himself up immediately dissolving. With a sigh, a roll of your eyes, you turned to leave, but a hand lashed out from the crumpled heap and caught you by the wrist. “Stay with me?” His voice was muffled by layers of sheets and blankets, but clear enough. “Please?”
Usually, his bids for affection were met with bitter neutrality or, on your worse days, spiteful condensation. Usually, you would’ve torn yourself out of his hold and made sure he knew that he’d ruined any chance of living out his little domestic fantasy the second he decided his obsession was worth more than your happiness. Usually, you would’ve hated him that much more for daring to ask.
But, he could barely hold his eyes open and when you failed to immediately recoil, the sloppiest, most lovesick smile you’d ever seen plastered itself across his lips. It was his turn to pull you forward, this time; to drag you onto his bed and into his chest. With a satisfied sigh, he slotted his chin against the dip of your shoulder and draped his arms around your waist – an old position. A relic of better times you’d never been strong enough to completely dicard. “When it’s time to draw up the plans for our home,” he mumbled, only half-audible. “I won’t so much as breathe until its perfect.”
You opened your mouth, but didn’t say anything.
He’d already fallen asleep.
Tighnari
He glanced once at the thick packet of ink-marked parchment you’d slammed in front of him before looking back to you, his expression disparaging. “And this is supposed to be…?”
“A custody agreement,” you answered, grinning. “Alhaitham put it together during his last visit.”
“We don’t have any kids.”
“It’s for Collei. If I ever leave you,” and, to be clear, you would be leaving him, as soon as you figured out how to get away from a man who poisoned your tea whenever you so much as suggested entertaining a future that didn’t include him, “I want weekends and summers.”
“She’s nineteen.”
“Which is why we’re letting her pick who she wants to spend holidays with.” You tapped the front page with your knuckles. “Honestly, dear, if you weren’t going to so much as read the documents, we could’ve scheduled this for another day.”
His ears twitched, his tail sweeping across the floor in irritation. “Even if this was legally binding – which, by the way, something assembled by a scribe would not be – I would never give you weekends. That’d be too much travelling for a girl in her condition, and I don’t want her to feel like she comes from a broken home. Moreover, according to Regulation #531 as passed by the Grand Sage last year, you would have to get Collei’s signature before—”
“Check page twenty-seven.”
You watched him scowl as he thumbed through the pages. A second later, his ears flattened against his scalp, and he took to muttering under his breath. “Traitor.”
“If you don’t want your aggression towards the dependent party used against you in court, I’d suggest you sign on page four, seventeen, and thirty-two.”
You left his villa half an hour later with a with a new imprint of his fangs on the side of your throat and a signed document in-hand.
Cyno
“You have kidnapped me.”
“Technically, I was only—”
“You’ve blackmailed me, imprisoned me, and tortured me.”
“You can’t still be hung up on—”
“You’ve branded me with your name, forced me into your bed, and made me play out all your delusional, fucked-up fantasies—” You took a deep breath, pursed your lips. “—but if you show up to a black-tie event wearing that, it will be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”
He looked down, as if considering his attire for the first time. He was in his usual uniform – which was to say, shirtless and barefoot, his hair windblown and a fine layer of sand still coating what little he was wearing. You could only be thankful his polearm wasn’t slung across his back, but you knew he’d make it past the door without it. “The way I dress has never been a problem before.”
“There’s a difference between hunting down rouge scholars and going to a banquet being held by a literal god. Archons, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself might be there.” You gasped, dragged your hands over your face. “Everyone who’s ever gone to the Akademiya will absolutely be there.”
For all his many faults, he could never stand to see you in pain. There was a brief delay, a moment of unsure shuffling, then his arms were wrapping around you, his chest slotting against your back has he pulled you against him. “It’ll be alright,” he muttered, speaking into your shoulder. “If anyone so much as attempts to insult you—no, if anyone tries to talk to you at all, I’ll strike them down in the blink of an eyes.”
His comfort was stale, but you forced yourself to relax. At least enough to speak. “You know,” you mumbled, letting your hands drift to your temples. “Dehya was hired by an up-and-coming scholar, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how long her contract was, but there’s a chance we’ll see her tonight.”
There was a beat of silence, then another.
“Cyno?”
“I’ll change.”
Wriothesley
You could hear him trudging up the metallic stairs to his office; his footsteps heavy enough to drown out the soft music flowing out of his century-old gramophone. His head emerged from the curving staircase, first – his hair somehow more disheveled than its usual state of barely-tamed chaos – then his chest, his tie undone and his collar terribly mangled, as if he’d spent all day indulging the worst of his nervous habits. He was baring his teeth, his pale cheeks flushed with anger and his eyes narrowed into a pointed glare. It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for (in your wildest dreams, he would’ve managed to sink his beloved fortress before he ever reached you), but it was close enough.
You moved to stand, to greet him with the warm embrace he usually demanded, but he was already in front of you, already pinning you to the back of the lounge you’d been splayed across with a single fist planted less than a hair’s width above your shoulder. “You,” he growled, leaning in close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “Do you know how many journalistsI had to deal with today? They were everywhere. I couldn’t go a step without tripping over some— over some glorified tabloid.”
“So, your meeting with Monsieur Neuvillette went well?” His scowl deepened, and you let out your most faux innocent laugh – a chiming, bubbling thing he’d never been able to stand. “You shouldn’t scowl like that, love. All those photographers will have to find a new model if you manage to give yourself frown lines.”
He jolted, but forced himself to shut his eyes, to let out a long, ragged breath. When he did face you again, he’d regained a degree of his composure – just enough to meet your smile with his own tight-lipped grin, more teeth than anything. “I’ll let you off easy if you tell me how you did it now. Before I decide it’d be faster to strangle an explanation out of you.”
“I didn’t break any rules, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You paused, folded your hands over your lap. “It was all thanks to our great and benevolent duke. Contacting people outside of the fortress has gotten so much more efficient ever since you decided prisoners should be able to send letters without administrative vetting.”
He buckled visibly, his shoulders falling as he lean towards you, his face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” There was a raspy chuckle, a hand on your thigh, squeezing just hard enough for his anger to shine through the playfulness of the gesture. “I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off, and I think you’ve earned—”
The door to his office swung open before he could finish, a masculine voice calling up from the voice below only a moment later. “Your grace, t-there’s a reporter here to see you! She says she’s been told not to leave until she speaks to your partner!”
“That’ll be Charlotte,” you half-sung. “She seemed like such a nice girl in her letters. It’d be a shame to keep her waiting.”
When he failed to answer, you brought up both hands and cupped his face, cooing as you used your thumbs to quirk the corners of his mouth upward.
“Just remember to smile for the camera this time, alright?”
4K notes · View notes
Text
SOCIAL BATTERIES
Do the boys REALLY like people that much?
Character studies.
Going from the most Extroverted to the least.
Tumblr media
- 🟠 -
Mikey is THE definition of an extrovert
Suprise, suprise.
I keep thinking about him making fun of Casey constantly, and his fist bump with Vern, or him working the crowd on Halloween. And his eye rolls at Raph and Leo
Can be annoying af and play dumb, but half the time he knows way more than he let's on. And it's SUPER hard to get him angry.
Would be in a fraternity tbh. And like, seven sport teams.
The world is a lesser place with him cooped up away from it.
He's a HUGE teaser and talker. Loves to flirt and prank and play the vibes.
He's a NATRUAL at it
Give him ONE conversation. ONE chance, and he can get literally anyone out of their shell.
Loves having April or Casey or Vern around. Loves teasing them or harassing them tbh.
The bigger his social circle, the better his life.
Is usually a HUGE buffer between humans and his grumpy, tired brothers.
He would be the LIFE of the party. Would be an excellent host of an event, because he'd be everywhere talking to everyone. Remembering everyone by name and face, introducing people to one another, so on and so forth.
He would have multiple friend groups everywhere he goes, with all sorts of different types of people.
Out of his brothers, I see Mikey having the body count tbh
Also probably jumped into a relationship too soon and got hurt early on. He'll be way more ready for the next one.
He has SO MUCH TEXTING TO DO.
His favorite is snap chat.
The BEST out of all his brothers at reading social cues and body language. By FAR.
Can find something to talk about with ANYONE
He's been wishing to socialize his WHOLE LIFE. So he DO!
Probably the only one that can confront and process trauma in a healthy manner.
Not at all afraid of deeper, more meaningful conversations.
Often finds himself the one initiating deep conversations with people who need it the most (his brothers).
He knows there is a time and place for problem solving. And sometimes you just gotta sit with your feels.
Something his brothers STRUGGLE WITH
- 🟣 -
Donatello might not be EXTROVERTED but he is outgoing.
Second to Mikey, everyone in his family has a close relationship with Donnie.
Super caring and fun and inquisitive with everyone he meets.
He'll be down for ANYTHING. Sports, games, cooking, drives, crafts, working out, adventures or pranks or geeky movie nights.
He might not always be good at INICIATING these with strangers but he loves going along with stuff.
Loves showing people his projects and stuff and letting people use them or have them.
Will be there for his friends the instant they ask.
At a party he'd be in another room having a conversation with two or three people.
But I also see him hanging around girls a little more than guys. Finds the girlies to be easier company than guys.
He's been on discord for YEARS. He had human friends before even Mikey did.
But.
He's HYPERVIGALANT of the vibe
Extreme empath.
He does NOT like confrontation.
A HUGE people pleaser.
Feels he's stepping on eggshells around his loved ones and friends. In an effort to keep them happy.
He's a sensitive guy.
If he's told to shut up or be quiet, especially if he's excited or talking outloud- he's modified. He WILL shut up. For a while.
His brothers know this. While they get exasperated sometimes, they rarely interrupt him.
Does NOT like gossip. Don't gossip with him, he hates it
Makes him feel gross and mean.
Hates when people are upset or sad in any way.
When vibes get rough he does not cope well. Often chooses to avoid or straight up leave.
When things get heated he gets overstimulated quickly.
If he can't leave, he shuts down. He won't talk and if he does it's very quiet
Doesn't know how to help or address emotional things either. He prefers to let it go and just move on, leaving stuff unaddressed.
He's an outgoing and pleasant guy, but he definitely doesn't mix with everyone.
- 🔴 -
Meeting Raphael is a terrifying experience.
Because he talks and looks at you like he hates you already.
But he doesn't hate people.
He just sucks at them.
Raph wants a normal life just as badly as Mikey does.
Raphs love language is harassment???
He shows his love by annoying his loved ones. Or through teasing and banter. Or wrestling his bros to the ground or pull them into rough hugs.
However
When he meets new people he isn't there to make FRIENDS.
He's there to let you know that if you bullshit with his family you're gonna get whooped.
So he will posture and glare and tower and maybe even roll his neck or crack knuckles to anyone.
Literally anyone.
Remember how rude he was to April?
So when he can't do any of that- no banter, no pranks, no wrestling and no INTIMIDATING-
He is COMPLETELY at everyone's mercy
Put him in a group of girls, or take him to a party or a bar. ANYTHING out of his comfort zone.
He's very awkward.
Only because he's kinda quiet
And honestly SUPER shy.
Wants to be liked SUPER badly.
He doesn't know how to make friends. At all
Flirt with Raph. I dare you.
You'd terrify him
Is the type of guy at a party to stick to the side of someone he knows and never. Leave. It.
But he finds out he gets along with blue collar guys the most.
And Raph has this super power
He can detect if you're a good or bad character super quickly. Much quicker than everyone else in his family. Like, one conversation in.
Not that he really believes himself. He thinks everyone's out to get him. or his family
If he's not making fun of you, you know he doesn't like you.
Is the type of guy to have quality over quantity relationships.
Hates texting. Honestly hates social media and technology beyond like...insta reels or something. He doesn't like sitting on his phone or video games all the much. Half because he breaks things easily or gets easily frustrated at leaning how to work it.
Rather be doing something active or working on a car or build something or carve stuff.
Might not be as outgoing as Donnie or Mikey, but if people manage to ACTIALLY get him to do something fun, he is ALL IN and having a BLAST.
The kinda guy to crash at his friends house and just chill.
He recharges when he's in proximity of his loved ones. Not always SOCIALIZING but having his people close.
-🔵-
Our REAL introvert
He struggles to socialize even with his BROTHERS
Who are the only people in the world he allows himself to be even semi relaxed around
A conversation with anyone other than his dad and brothers is the opposite of a relaxing/easy activity.
He's honorable, polite, and formal.
But Leo is and EXTREMLY cold character.
Sometimes even a bit cruel and scary to strangers.
Has a weird habit of wrapping his arm kindly around someone he's about to hurt
Struggles to see even April as more than an 'asset' or 'person dad holds dear'
Doesn't see Vern as a friend. Doesn't see Casey as a friend.
Leo is the only turtle April doesn't have a strong connection to. Not out of lack of trying.
Tolerates social situations only if he falls into a leading (controlling) role.
Doesn't like large groups of people.
Very quiet otherwise.
Struggles to initiate activities with his brothers.
He sucks at it.
He is always receptive to when they reach out to him though
And kinda has a fear of getting turned down. Getting turned down by his brothers makes him sick to his stomach.
Not that he admits it.
He also doesn't handle rejection with any grace. Gets just a LITTLE pushy to make you either feel bad or like he's in charge
His brothers still gotta tolerate him being a little bossy and stuck up and a fun-sucker while they hang out with him. They know he can't help it.
But Leo is super relieved every single time they invite him to do something.
What would Leo be like at a party? Leo never WENT to the party. And if he DID, he'd be outside, trying to soak in the quiet. Listening to the party from out here.
or hug him, or just express somehow they still want him around or like him. Or love him. Because those moments are getting rarer and rarer the older they get.
He's completely alone other than his dad. At least he's thought so his whole life
Would be the one petting the cat. Or dog. Not the type to go LOOKING for it, but if it came to him, he would.
Yes, he texts, but never outside of absolute necessity. Or if his brothers remind him of April's birthday.
He likes to read
Even if Donnie, Mikey and Raph are together in the lair having fun, Leo is often by himself somewhere else.
He recharges alone. He does calligraphy and he sketches SOMETIMES. Little stick figures fighting with space guns or something.
But a lot of what he reads are super geeky stuff. Like star wars novels or manga.
But don't tell anyone.
Splinter is his preferred company. He adores time with his dad. He'll spar and train and talk with his dad often.
Doesn't care about having friends but he wants a girlfriend SUPER badly. More than all three of his brothers combined
Being alone with him sucks if you like to talk. He gives you a LOOK that SCREAMS shut the fuck up.
It takes EXTREMLY specific personalities to get Leo a little soft for them. A quiet person with a good sense of humor.
And the likely hood he'll ever get out to find and meet them is next to none existent.
But hey
Even after like, ALL OF THIS
It's not hard to get Leo to smile
1K notes · View notes
swampjawn · 11 months ago
Text
Character Acting > Action Sakuga (sometimes)
There's nothing like a sudden burst of 24-fps action sakuga insanery to convince people that the animation in a show is good,
Tumblr media Tumblr media
but Dungeon Meshi Episode 23 shows that attention to detail in the subtler character acting moments can be just as, if not more important to telling a compelling story because while there is some great action animation too, the most crucial moment in the episode is a dwarf eating some soup:
Tumblr media
This bit is done by the mysterious animator just credited as "Haruki," also known as Haruki Sakamoto, another relatively young talent like Ichigo Kanno, and in fact the two apparently studied together and collaborated on this project as students:
youtube
Haruki trained at Kyoto Animation and you can see the influence plainly in his style which, much unlike the flashy, snappy, grandiose style of his friend Ichigo Kanno, is characterized by very smooth motion and attention to realistic detail in nuances that might otherwise go overlooked.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Even starting from the anticipation (and here I mean that in the normal sense, not the technical animation sense) the attention to detail is on point from the incredibly consistent shapes of the spoon and bowl which each rotate toward and away from the camera, to the subtle rotation of his head not only when he actually lifts the spoon to his mouth, but also even earlier as he brings the bowl up to his face, to the little half blink as his expression goes from worry to determination, there's SO much nuance in the series of facial expressions
Tumblr media
Senshi has generally been depicted as the most cartoony of the bunch; a stoic but goofy little teddy bear who's often silent and almost always has almost his entire face obscured, so it's all the more powerful to see his face with so much detail and expression in this cathartic, emotional moment that finally solidifies this group as his new family.
And there's more where that came from, you sick fuck. This post is an excerpt from this video where I broke down the whole episode, so go watch it!
youtube
807 notes · View notes
sakusaswifee · 10 days ago
Text
“𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐘”
Tumblr media
𓆩༒︎𓆪 COLLEGE + TS!TSUKISHIMA KEI
Warnings: enemies to lovers, academic rivals, hate sex vibes, rough tension, praise/degradation mix, glasses kink, Tsukishima’s filthy mouth, dom!Tsukki, overstimulation, edging, study session gone wrong (or right), cocky!Tsukishima, bratty!reader, power play, light bondage (wrist pinning), fingering, riding, edging, orgasm control, overstimulation, degradation mixed with praise, semi-public (dorm setting), dirty talk, intellectual tension, teasing, slow burn to full burn, mutual obsession, consensual power dynamics
No one correct my tags, I’m half asleep
MINORS DNI, all characters are 18+
@kitomon here’s what you requested of me
𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪
It started in freshman year.
First lecture. First row. First stupid comment he made under his breath that he thought you wouldn’t hear.
You were correcting the professor because they were wrong and Tsukishima Kei, with his unnecessary commentary, rolled up sleeves, and glasses halfway down his nose, muttered just loud enough, “Of course she would.”
You whipped your head toward him, already bristling, and locked eyes with that smug, golden gaze.
That was it. Ground zero. The start of your rivalry.
Every class, every semester, every group project since then turned into a petty, brainy war.
Snide remarks, raised eyebrows, stolen answers, smug smirks when one of you edged ahead. He’d pick apart your logic just for fun. You’d one-up him just to wipe the smirk off his face. Professors loved both of you. You hated that he was always in your space. You hated the way your heart fluttered when he leaned close and said something infuriating. And you especially hated the way he’d watch you when you spoke in class, eyes dragging down your body like he was mentally undressing you while everyone else was just focused on the lecture.
By senior year, the tension had festered.
And exploded.
It happened after a brutal group debate. You’d humiliated him, thrown facts like daggers, and walked out on a high. He followed you. Pinned you in the hallway. Gripped your jaw, lowered his head, and hissed, “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you?” And instead of answering, you kissed him. Hard. Sloppy. Angry.
The next ten minutes were a blur..his hand up your shirt, your back hitting the wall, the rough grind of his hips into yours, and the filthy groan he let out when he discovered you were already soaked through your panties.
Now? It’s a weekly thing.
Study sessions turn into you bent over his desk, moaning through bitten off insults.
He tests your limits just like he tests your logic. Always challenging you, always pushing.
“You can’t even take notes right now, can you?” he whispers against your ear while his fingers curl deep inside you.
“You’re so cocky when you’re not on your knees,” you growl back as you straddle him on the dorm couch.
And yet..you keep showing up.
Because no one fucks you like Tsukishima Kei does.
And he lives for the way you scream his name when you finally fall apart..outsmarted, undone, his.
𓆩༒︎𓆪
It’s late. His apartment is dim, the only light coming from his desk lamp and the soft glow of his laptop screen. You’re perched on his bed, cross-legged with textbooks around you, pretending to study—but your eyes keep drifting to him. His glasses are low on his nose, his hair a little messy, and that damn vein in his forearm flexes every time he types.
You mutter something about his thesis being derivative just to piss him off.
He doesn’t even look up. “You’re so fucking desperate for my attention,” he says coolly, voice low and lazy. “Why don’t you just admit it?”
You scoff, roll your eyes. “Please. You’re the one who couldn’t go a full day without picking a fight.”
He finally turns to look at you. Pushes his chair back, stands. Walks over slowly, like a predator. The second he reaches you, his hand tangles in your hair, pulling just enough to tilt your chin up.
“You gonna act like you didn’t wear that skirt on purpose?” he murmurs, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. “Sitting there pretending to study while your thighs are spread wide like you’re begging for it?”
You hate how easily he reads you. Hate how fast your breath catches. But not as much as you love what he does next.
He kisses you hard, dragging you onto your back, pressing his body against yours. One hand pins your wrists above your head, the other hiking your skirt up. His voice is a growl against your mouth:
“I should make you read every fucking line of that textbook while I fuck you..see how smart you are when your brain’s melting.”
And he does.
He makes you recite your thesis points while his fingers are inside you—slow, curling, pushing you to the edge and yanking you back every time you mess up.
“Wrong. Start over.”
“Aw, poor baby. Losing focus already?”
“Use that mouth for something other than arguing.”
You’re shaking by the time he finally lets you come—loud, gasping, clenching around his fingers like you’ll die without him.
And when he finally slides into you, slow and deep, his forehead pressed to yours, he whispers:
“Let’s see if you can outsmart me with my cock buried this deep inside you.”
𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪
152 notes · View notes
jianwon · 3 months ago
Note
i ADORE your most recent fanfic (touch ups and downs) your writing is rlly cool and i was wondering if maybe we could get a part 2!?! where they go on a date and se-mi is still being flirty/teasing as per usual and maaaaybee...they kiss. hehe. i love your writing btw, but pls dont feel pressured to fulfill my request!!! 💗💗
A SOFTER SPOTLIGHT — player 380
Tumblr media
sypnosis. a makeup artist’s quiet life takes an unexpected turn when actress se-mi slips them her number. between secret outings, stolen moments, and the challenges of se-mi’s fame, their connection grows into something neither of them can ignore.
part 1 part 3
content—actress!se-mi x fem!makeupartist!reader. pure fluff. flirting and romantic tension. brief mention of public harassment. mild language. slight emotional vulnerability. mentions of squid game characters.
disclaimer. story is entirely fictional and in no way reflects real events, individuals, or their relationships. characters mentioned are fictional representations based on their on-screen personas.
wordcount. 1.9k
Tumblr media
since the day se-mi slipped her number into your hand, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. it wasn’t just the way she effortlessly flirted, or the way her perfume lingered like a gentle reminder of her presence, it was the way she made you feel seen.
you hadn’t reached out yet, overthinking every possible way the conversation might go. would she even remember giving you her number? what if she was just being polite? or teasing?
you debated for days, pacing your tiny apartment as her folded note sat on your kitchen counter, taunting you.
then, one evening, your phone buzzed with an unknown number.
unknown number: you weren’t planning on calling me, were you... artist-nim?
you stared at the message, your heart racing. how did she..? oh. of course, she had your number from the crew information list.
you: i didn’t want to bother you.
se-mi: bother? i think you misunderstand. i was hoping you’d ask me out (īī ^ īī)
the boldness of her words hit you like a lightning bolt, and before you could spiral into overthinking, another message popped up.
se-mi: how about we fix that? are you free tomorrow afternoon?
you froze. tomorrow afternoon? what would you wear? what would you say?
you: i guess i could be free.
se-mi: great! but we’ll need to be careful, meet me at cafe haneul at 3. wear something comfortable and discreet ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
you didn’t sleep much that night.
the next day, you arrived at cafe haneul early, nervously fiddling with your phone. the cozy little café was tucked into a quieter street in seoul, its warm glow spilling onto the cobblestone sidewalk. you wore an oversized hoodie and a baseball cap, hoping it was “discreet” enough.
when se-mi arrived, you almost didn’t recognize her. she was wearing a hoodie too, paired with round glasses and a black face mask that covered half her face. even so, she still looked effortlessly stunning, her presence impossible to ignore.
“artist-nim!” she greeted, pulling down her mask slightly to reveal a playful grin. “se-mi,” you replied, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt.
she tilted her head, studying you. “cute. you really took the ‘discreet’ note to heart.”
you laughed awkwardly, and she grabbed your wrist gently. “come on. let’s walk.”
Tumblr media
the streets were bustling, even in the quieter part of the city. se-mi kept close, her hand brushing yours every so often as you weaved through the crowd. the conversation flowed easily. she talked about the projects she was excited about, and you shared funny backstage stories from your work.
but as the sidewalk grew more crowded, you started to feel the press of bodies around you. someone accidentally bumped into your shoulder, and then another person pushed past, making you stumble slightly.
se-mi noticed immediately. without a word, she reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to her side. “stay here,” she said softly, her tone protective.
her hand was warm, her grip firm but gentle. you felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t pull away. instead, you let her guide you through the crowd, her presence grounding you amidst the chaos.
when the street finally opened up, she looked down at you, a small smile playing on her lips. “you okay?”
“yeah..” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“good.” she replied, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.
the moment felt so natural that you almost didn’t realize she hadn’t let go until she grinned and said, “don’t tell me you’re blushing already.”
“i’m not!” you protested, though the heat in your cheeks said otherwise. she chuckled, tugging you along. “come on. there’s somewhere i want to take you.”
Tumblr media
the museum was quiet, its grand halls filled with soft lighting and the faint echo of footsteps. you hadn’t expected se-mi to bring you somewhere so peaceful, but as soon as you stepped inside, you understood why.
“i like coming here when i need to clear my head,” she explained as you wandered through an exhibit of impressionist paintings. “there’s just something calming about it.”
you watched as her gaze lingered on a large canvas depicting a serene landscape. the way her face softened, her usual confident demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable, made your chest ache in the best way.
“do you paint?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
she shook her head. “no, but i wish i did. i’ve always admired how artists can put so much emotion into a single canvas”
you smiled, gesturing to the painting in front of you. “kind of like how you do with acting.”
her eyes widened slightly, and she turned to you with a surprised smile. “that’s… probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“well, it’s true,” you replied, suddenly feeling shy under her gaze. she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
before you could respond, she tugged you toward another room, this one filled with smaller, more abstract pieces. you wandered through the space together, occasionally stopping to admire a painting or share quiet observations. at one point, you caught her watching you instead of the art, her expression unreadable.
“what?” you asked, self-conscious under her stare.
“nothing.” she said, smiling softly. “i just like seeing you like this. you’re so… relaxed.”
you didn’t know how to respond, so you simply smiled back, your heart pounding.
Tumblr media
after leaving the museum, you and se-mi wandered into a bustling food street. the two of you shared tteokbokki and small plates of jeon at a cozy food stall, the spicy warmth of the dishes cutting through the evening chill. se-mi kept her hoodie pulled low and her mask in place, glancing around every now and then to make sure no one was paying too much attention.
you couldn’t help but laugh as she struggled with her chopsticks, one slippery rice cake flying out of her grasp and landing on her plate with a small splatter. “a world-famous actress, but chopsticks are your weakness?”
she gave you a mock glare, her eyes narrowing playfully. “you try eating with these things out in the cold and tell me how it goes.”
smirking, you picked up one of the rice cakes with ease, holding it out toward her. “here. let me save you the embarrassment.”
she hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward, taking the bite and chewing with exaggerated slowness. “not bad...” she said once she swallowed. “guess i’ll keep you around.”
it was an easy moment, the two of you lost in your own world, until someone walking past slowed to a stop right in front of your table.
“wait… is that—?”
your heart dropped as you saw the man’s eyes narrow in recognition. he looked to be in his early twenties, dressed casually but holding his phone in a way that made your stomach tighten.
se-mi tensed beside you, her hand instinctively reaching for her mask to pull it higher.
“no way,” the man said, stepping closer. “you’re se-mi, aren’t you? from that movie?”
“i think you’ve got the wrong person,” you said quickly, standing up to block his view of her. “she’s not an actress.” the man’s eyes darted between you and se-mi, skepticism written all over his face.
“no, i’m pretty sure that’s her. i’ve watched the show, like, three times. that’s definitely her!”
se-mi looked down, trying to keep her face hidden as she mumbled, “i’m sorry, i think you’re mistaken.” her voice was calm, but you could sense the tension in her posture.
“come on, you don’t have to pretend,” the man insisted, pulling out his phone. “just one picture, please! my friends will never believe i ran into you.”
“no pictures,” you said firmly, your voice shaking slightly. “please respect her privacy.” the man frowned, his phone still in hand. “if it’s not her, then what’s the big deal? why are you acting so weird?”
the crowd around the stall was starting to take notice, a few people pausing mid-bite to glance over. your pulse quickened as you realized how easily this could spiral out of control.
“let’s go,” you whispered to se-mi, gently tugging her sleeve.
she nodded and stood, keeping her head down as the two of you tried to leave the stall. but the man wasn’t giving up so easily.
“hey, wait!” he called, stepping after you. “at least tell me if it’s really you—”
that’s when se-mi turned around, her voice steady but firm. “i’m sorry, but i’d really appreciate it if you left us alone.”
her tone was polite, but there was a quiet strength behind it that seemed to catch the man off guard. he hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a response. finally, he muttered something under his breath and walked off, still holding his phone but no longer pointing it at you.
as soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “that was… intense.”
“i’m sorry...” se-mi said softly, her voice laced with guilt.
“don’t apologize,” you said immediately. “it’s not your fault. are you okay?” she nodded, though her hands were trembling slightly. without thinking, you reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently.
“let’s get out of here,” you said, your voice soft but reassuring.
Tumblr media
the two of you walked quickly through the streets, sticking to quieter alleys until you were far away from the bustling crowd. when you finally stopped, you were standing in a small, empty park, the glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement.
“i didn’t mean to ruin the night.” se-mi said after a moment, her gaze fixed on the ground.
“ruin it?” you repeated, stepping closer to her. “se-mi, you didn’t ruin anything.” she looked up at you, her eyes searching yours. “it’s just… stuff like that happens all the time. and i hate dragging other people into it.”
“you didn’t drag me into anything,” you said firmly. “i wanted to be here. with you.”
her expression softened, and for a moment, the tension in her shoulders seemed to melt away. “you really mean that?”
“of course,” you said, giving her hand another gentle squeeze. “besides, i think we make a pretty good team. i distract the fans, and you handle the dramatic exits.” she laughed at that, the sound light and melodic in the quiet night. “i guess i owe you one, artist-nim.”
“i’ll add it to your tab,” you teased, grinning.
for a moment, neither of you said anything. the air between you felt heavy with unspoken words, and when she finally broke the silence, her voice was quiet but steady.
“being recognized is part of the job,” she said. “but… it’s nice to have someone who doesn’t see me as just ‘se-mi the actress.’”
you looked at her, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her words. “you’re more than that,” you said softly. “at least to me.”
she turned to you, her eyes searching yours. then, without warning, she reached up and pulled her mask down, her face inches from yours. “i know.” she whispered.
before you could respond, she leaned in and kissed you. it was soft, tentative, but it sent a spark through your entire body. when she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and she looked almost shy. “i hope that wasn’t too forward...” she murmured.
you shook your head, a dazed smile spreading across your face. “not at all.”
she grinned, her confidence returning as she took your hand again. “good. because i plan on doing that again.”
and as the city buzzed around you, the world felt like it had shrunk to just the two of you. a quiet, perfect moment in the chaos of life.
Tumblr media
a/n— a big thank you to anon for the request! please do let me know if you'd like actress se-mi x makeup artist reader to be a series! do request some scenarios that you'd like to see both of them in hehe + is it just me, or do i hc se-mi as an emoticon user rather than using emojis hmm
233 notes · View notes
bunny-hwa · 4 months ago
Text
Popular, Boy
☆03: The first betrayal.
Tumblr media
Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader
Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.
wc: 8,6k
Summary: Tensions simmer as alliances fracture , and lines are crossed; forcing one unexpected figure to take a stand. But every choice has a price, and betrayal lurks where it's least expected.
Leaving friendship and loyalties hanging by a thread.
Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, public humiliation, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, fluff, SMUT (MDN!!) Sub!Hongjoong, Virgin!Hongjoong, oral (m receiving) cum eating, use of pet names (good boy) suggestive.
Series masterlist
☆02 ☆04
Tumblr media
The next few days passed in a whirlwind of your world enveloping Hongjoong entirely.
On monday, you made a show of having Hongjoong walk you to class, your hand looped through his arm as if he were some prized accessory. Your laugh rang out in the hallway, over-exaggerated yet charming enough to keep everyone’s attention firmly on you.
Hongjoong smiled sheepishly, still unsure how to navigate this new role. Despite your guidance, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place, like a puzzle piece forced into the wrong picture.
By Tuesday afternoon, your curiosity got the better of you.
"You’re always talking about books and nerdy stuff." You teased, leaning against the library’s entrance "Show me what’s so interesting about it."
He blinked in surprise, adjusting the strap of his backpack. He wasn’t sure if you were serious or just looking for another way to flaunt your dominance. Still, the chance to share a piece of himself was oddly appealing.
"Uh, okay." He said, leading you to a quiet corner of the library.
You trailed behind, your heels clicking softly against the tiled floor. When you reached the shelves, Hongjoong’s demeanor shifted. His posture relaxed as he ran his fingers along the spines of the books, his face lighting up in a way you hadn’t seen before.
"This one’s incredible," He said, pulling a worn paperback from the shelf. The cover featured a pirate ship hurtling through the clouds. "It’s about a crew exploring the universe, trying to find a new home after their planet’s destroyed. The writing is just… amazing."
You arched a brow, your manicured nails tapping lightly against the edge of a nearby table. "Sounds... intense."
"It is," Hongjoong replied eagerly, flipping through the pages "But it’s also about relationships and survival. You’d like it, I think."
You leaned closer, taking the book from him, inspecting it like a rare artifact "You think I’d like it? Bold assumption."
Hongjoong chuckled nervously "Well, maybe not the battles. But the characters… they’re complicated, just like you."
Your lips curved into a smirk, and you handed the book back "Careful, Hongjoong. You’re starting to sound charming."
You spent the next hour browsing, with Hongjoong pointing out his favorite authors and you occasionally picking up a book just to make a witty comment about its cover. It was strange, almost surreal.
YN Clarke, the queen bee, immersed in his world.
At one point, you plopped down on a cushioned chair and crossed your legs elegantly.
"Okay, impress me." You said, holding out a slim notebook you had pulled from your bag. He hesitated, then sat across from you, scribbling a quick sketch of the pirate ship he’d described earlier. He showed it to you shyly, half-expecting a sarcastic remark. Instead, you studied it thoughtfully. "Not bad," You admitted, handing it back "Maybe you’re not as boring as I thought."
Your words were teasing, but the tone was softer, almost approving.
For the first time, Hongjoong felt like you were seeing him, not as a project or a pawn, but as something more. But just as quickly as the moment came, it passed.
You stood, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt "Alright, nerd. Let’s go. I’m starving."
"Where to?" He asked, slipping the notebook back into his bag.
"Back to my place," You said with a wink "You can show me more of your… fascinating hobbies while we snack."
As you left the library, Hongjoong couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of pride and unease. Your approval was addictive, but at what cost?
That afternoon was spent at your house, watching movies or listening to music in your plush room. You sprawled out on your bed, phone in hand, while Hongjoong sat awkwardly on the edge.
"You can relax, you know," You teased, patting the space beside you.
He hesitated before joining you, feeling your warmth radiate beside him. You tilted your head to look at him, your lips curving into a soft, knowing smile.
"See? This isn’t so bad."
By Wednesday, you had fully integrated Hongjoong into your routine. You sit with him at lunch, laughing at his jokes, and an odd sincerity in your gaze when you look at him.
For a moment, the lingering tension, the unspoken dynamics, and the ever-watchful shadow of Dann keeps Hongjoong’s heart uneasy, even as he tries to enjoy the fleeting comfort of your charm.
Little did you know, the world you were teetering on the edge of, was about to shift once again.
✮ ⋆
That same day, the tension between Seonghwa and you had reached a boiling point. It wasn’t just about your weird relationship anymore, it was about the power shift that Hwa couldn’t ignore.
You had been spending all your time with the nerd, and he couldn’t stand being sidelined.
At lunch, Seonghwa makes his move.
You are at your usual table, Hongjoong at your side, your heads bent close as you laugh over some private joke. His jaw tightens at the sight.
Without waiting for an invitation, he walks over, towering above you “YN,” He says curtly, his voice cutting through your laughter “We need to talk.”
You barely glance up, your gaze cool. “About what?”
“Alone.” He insists, his tone sharp.
Your lips curl into a faint smirk “If it’s so important, you can say it here.”
Seonghwa’s eyes flicks to Hongjoong, who stiffs slightly under his gaze “Fine,” He says tightly, crossing his arms “What’s with you? Ever since the party, it’s been all about him.” He jerks his chin toward Hongjoong “You’ve barely said two words to me.”
“So?”
Seonghwa let out a bitter laugh “You’re unbelievable. I get it now. He’s your new toy, right? Your latest project… What’s the plan, YN? To make him worship you till you get bored?”
Your eyes narrow as you rise slowly from your seat, meeting Seonghwa head-on “You’ve got some nerve, Park. Is this jealousy? Or are you just mad that you’re no longer the center of my world?”
He steps closer, his voice lowering but his words sharper “You think I’m mad because you’re ignoring me? No, Clarke. I’m mad because I know you, and I know how this ends. You ignore me and then come back to me like nothing happened, it's tiring.”
“Stop complaining, I can handle myself.”
“Can you?” Hwa shoots back, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “What would your brother think if he knew about your little extracurricular activities? The drinking? The parties? The weed?”
Hongjoong frowns at his words. Brother? Do you have a brother?
Your composure cracks further. The mention of your older brother makes your stomach twist. You could almost feel the sting of his hand across your face, the disappointed look in his eyes as he coldly tells your parents everything.
“Careful, Hwa. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I know plenty. Imagine if your brother finds out. What’s his name again? Oh, right—Mr. Perfect. He still thinks you’re his sweet, innocent little sister, doesn’t he?” Seonghwa grinds, he isn’t done “How do you think he would react if he found out about all the bad things you've done since he left? Or better yet, how do you manipulate people and toss them aside like trash? Bet he wouldn’t be too proud of his baby sister then.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” You say between your teeth, almost a murmur.
“Oh, I would,” His grin gets bigger “He’s abroad, isn’t he? Perfect son, perfect man... but if he found out about all this?” He gestures vaguely around “How long before he tells your parents? Or better yet, how long before he comes back and shows you what happens when you ruin his perfect family image?”
For a moment, all your confidence falters. Your heart racing at the memory of your brother… your parents’ golden child, the one person you couldn’t afford to disappoint. But you recover quickly, your smirk returning like armor.
“Nice try, Seonghwa. But let’s not forget that you have secrets too. Drinking? Drugs? You think your parents wouldn’t care? You’re a Park. Your last name is everything. What would your father say if he knew his precious son was sneaking around doing God-knows-what? How long do you think that reputation of yours would last?” Hwa’s smirk froze, his confidence visibly shaken for the first time “That’s what I thought,” You continue with an icy voice “So don’t come at me with fucking threats unless you’re prepared to deal with the fallout.”
He scoffs, his frustration evident as he turns and walks away “You’ll regret this.” He mutters under his breath before disappearing into the crowd.
As Seonghwa walks away, your mask slips for just a second, jaw clenching and your eyes flashing with anger and fear.
Hongjoong frowns confused “What was that about? Is he threatening you?”
You exhale sharply, brushing off his concern “Don’t worry about it. Seonghwa’s all talk.”
But your voice lacks its usual conviction, and Hongjoong isn't entirely convinced.
As you return to your conversation, your mind churns, plotting your next move. Whatever it takes, you’d make sure your secrets stay buried.
✮ ⋆
After lunch, your mood seemed lighter to anyone who didn’t know you well, but Hongjoong could see the subtle tension in your shoulders, the slight edge to your voice.
You barely touched your food, and your eyes kept darting around the cafeteria, likely searching for Seonghwa.
As the bell rings and students begin to shuffle to their next classes, you grab Hogjoong’s arm, pulling him close
“We’re skipping.” You announce, leaving no room for argument.
“What? YN, I can’t—”
“You can, and you will.” You interrupt him, locking your gaze with his “I need to relax, and you’re going to help me. Now come on.”
Without waiting for a response, you drag him through the hallway, your grip firm as you lead him to a quiet, empty classroom on the far side of the building.
“YN, what’s going on?” He asks as you close the door behind you, the soft click of the lock making his heart race.
You turn to face him, your expression unreadable for a moment before a sly smirk creeps into your lips.
“You’re going to make me forget about Seonghwa and his stupid threats.”
Hongjoong blinks, caught off guard by your sudden shift in tone “What does that mean?”
“It means,” You step closer to him, your fingers toying with the collar of his shirt “That I need a distraction. And you’re it.”
His breath hitch as your hands slid to his chest “YN, I don’t think—”
“Stop thinking, Kim.” You whisper, lips brushing against his ear “Just do what I say.”
Before he can respond, you press yourself against him, your lips finding his in a heated kiss. His resolve crumbles almost instantly, his hands finding your hips as you deepen the kiss.
You push him back against the desk, movements confident and calculated. As you straddle him, your fingers trail teasingly along the waistband of his pants, your touch light but deliberate, as you glance up at him with a sly smirk.
He holds his breath for a sec, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He looks down at you, wide-eyed and unsure, but there is no mistaking the nervous excitement that flickers in his gaze.
“You’re so tense, Joongie.” You purr with a soft but teasing tone “Relax. I’ll take care of everything.”
Your fingers toy with the fabric for a moment longer before tugging gently, letting his pants slide down his hips, and letting free his length already hard as a fuck.
Is he hard with just a few kisses? Cute
Taking a deliberate step closer, your hands gliding up his thighs as you position yourself between his legs, arching your back as you go down on your knees, your smirk growing as you notice the way his whole body tenses.
Hongjoong’s feels his face burning, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he struggles to meet your gaze. He swallows hard, trying to focus on breathing, but his chest feels tight, like all the air has been sucked out of the room.
He's never been in situations like this before, he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know where to look, at your hands, at your face, at the classroom door, but his eyes keep drifting back to you, to you in a way he can't control.
He doesn't want to give you any more signs of his embarrassing virginity, but he can't help but feel tense.
“You look like you’re about to pass out.” A soft chuckle leaves your lips, the panic in his eyes seems tender to you “Relax, babe. Just enjoy it.”
His voice cracks as he tries to respond, but all that comes out is a strangled sound. You raise an eyebrow, clearly enjoying his reaction. You let your hands glide up his sides, nails grazing his skin ever so lightly.
“Do you want me to suck you off?” You inquire, looking up, connecting your gaze with his. You wait patiently for an answer by stroking his skin with your fingertips.
Shit, Hongjoong doesn't want to accept it, but you look fucking cute that way.
Kneeling in front of him.
Hongjoong’s jaw drops slightly, and he nods so quickly it's almost comical “Y-Yeah… please.” He stammers, his words barely audible.
“Good boy.” You murmur with a satisfied grin, your fingers brushing over his trembling hands as you guide one up to your head “Hold on if you want. I don’t mind.”
His touch is hesitant, his fingers barely tangling in your soft hair as if he is afraid to push too far. You roll your eyes with a playful smirk, your hands holding his thighs steady as you lean in.
His thick cock is firmly against his stomach, it has a deep shade of pink, and some pre-cum at the tip, its the prettiest dick you've ever seen.
Everything about Kim Hongjoong is pretty.
You hold the base, your fingers barely touching the skin, you start slow with kitty licks on the tip as you test his reactions. Hongjoong’s breaths come in uneven gasps, his chest rising and falling as he tries to process everything happening.
Your hands hold his thighs firmly, keeping him grounded, but his body seems to move on its own, shifting slightly as he instinctively searches for more.
He squeezes his eyes shut, biting his lip to keep from making a sound when suddenly you put all his length in your mouth, the warm feeling of your lips around his dick make his head spin in pleasure.
Soft whimpers escape him as he tilts his head back slightly, relaxing under your touch, enjoying the moment.
Fuck, he never understood why his male classmates always talked about blowjobs as if it were the best thing in the world, and now that he is in this situation, he understands them.
The warm feeling of your mouth around him, the wet sound that comes every time you bob your head, your hand stroking where your mouth can't reach, and the pleasure sounds you let out while savoring every little inch of his cock.
Goddammit! This is the best experience a virgin boy could have.
You glance up at him, relishing the way his head tilts back, his lips part, and his entire being is consumed by the sensation.
Every gasp, and every shaky exhale from his mouth feeds your ego.
“You’re so easy to please.” You tease, pulling back just enough to flash him a knowing smile.
His voice is barely a whisper as he mutters.
“YN, I…”
“Shh.”
As you continue sucking him off, you caress his thighs, and try to enjoy every part of his length. Savoring every inch of his dick, the softness of his tip stroking the back of your throat, the taste of the pre-cum on your tongue…
Fuck, you’re getting more than horny for this nerd.
Hongjoong feels himself nearing the edge, his breaths coming faster, his grip on your hair tightening just slightly causing you to whine. His whole body trembles, his hips moving involuntarily as he tries to hold on, but it's too much.
He is literally fucking your mouth, you couldn't be anything but happy, and your satisfied moan made it clear.
“Fuck… I-I’m close.” He whines with shaky breath, his hips moving a little faster.
You almost let out another whine when you hear him curse for the first time, you didn't think hearing it would make your skin crawl with excitement.
Motivated by the sweet sounds coming out of his lips, you move your head faster, applying more force with your tongue.
Hongjoong gets louder, forgetting where he is for a moment. His gasps turn into soft, needy whimpers, his free hand clutching at the desk behind him as if it was the only thing keeping him on the ground, and with one final moan, he finally reaches his limit, his whole body tenses, his breath catching in his throat as a broken moan escapes him.
“Shit…”
His vision is hazy, but he can appreciate the way you swallow all his load, licking every drop like it's your last meal.
He closes his eyes cursing internally, that is the hottest thing he's ever seen and experienced in his fucking life.
The best of all? It was with you.
When you pull back, just a little to watch his pretty face. You smirk to yourself, knowing that you have him completely undone. A satisfied grin spreads across your face as he slumps back against the desk, utterly tired.
When he finally regulates his breathing, Hongjoong can't bring himself to meet your eyes, his face burning with embarrassment and something else…. something like awe.
“See? Told you I’d take care of it.” You say smugly, standing and cleaning the edge of your mouth, removing any traces of lipstick.
Hogjoong looks up at you, his face red, his chest still heaving “I… I don’t even know what to say.”
You giggle “Don’t say anything.” His tender demeanor makes you laugh a little “Just remember who made you feel this good.”
You approach him to give him one last kiss, Hogjoong groans, he can taste himself in your mouth.
When you break the kiss he looks at you with something new in his eyes, you're not sure what it is, but as long as he's by your side doing everything you ask without question, you won't complain.
From that day on, Hongjoong could only think about you and the amazing first blowjob he received that day.
Maybe he should thank Seonghwa for making you angry.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
That week had been amazing for you and Hongjoong, every interaction and every moment made you feel genuinely closer, and not only because of the small deal you made that day in the school's garden.
There was something more between the two of you but you didn't want to accept it.
However; that whole week was a martyrdom for Dann, you keeped asking her to do uncountable tasks that she can barely have time to do on her own.
In the mornings before going to school, you asked her to bring you breakfast in bed, to organize some things in your backpack, and to carry the books or folders with the work she did for you.
During school hours, you asked her to bring your things to your classroom and a matcha latte before the first class started. At lunch she would go get your and your friends' food.
She looked like a small waitress going from one end to the other with trays in hand.
And when she thought she could rest at home, you called her to do your homework and projects, in addition to cleaning your room, which by the way there was nothing to clean anymore... you just wanted her to waste her time.
One of the things that bothered Dann the most was the fact that not only did you order her what to do, but your friends also asked her to do small errands when they visited your home.
'I'm not their servant,' she used to repeat when Mindy or someone else asked her for something, but your strong gaze and your perfect raised eyebrow forced her not to reproach and to do what they asked.
She was tired, tired of your orders and mistreatment. The worst of all is that no one could help her. Your parents, especially your dad, were okay with you treating her like your personal doll, so she couldn't complain to them.
On the other hand, her mother could only look at her with pity every time your voice calling for her was heard. Dann complained every day to his mother about the things you made her do and she just hugged her, patted her on the back and said it would all be over soon....
But when will it be that, a week has passed and she feels desperate for this martyrdom to end.
Another thing that bothered Dann was the fact that Hongjoong was by your side all the time and watched the daily humiliations without doing anything, without defending her.
They're not supposed to be friends? Why doesn't he defend her as she did several times?
“I want to go shopping.”
Your voice slices through the fog of Dann’s thoughts, yanking her back to reality. She blinks at you with a blank expression, already bracing herself for whatever new errand or degrading task you have in mind.
“Have fun.” Hongjoong says casually, flashing one of his rare, easygoing smiles.
Your perfectly manicured fingers gently swat his arm, your playful grin in stark contrast to the command that follows “You’re coming with me, silly.”
He blinks, taken aback “Wait, me?” He asks, the confusion on his face almost comical.
“Of course. You don't want to come with me?” You tilt your head, feigning innocence, but the glint in your eyes reveals your true intention. You weren't asking him, you were telling him.
Hongjoong hesitates for a moment, his gaze flicking toward Dann, who shrinks back into herself, pretending not to listen.
“I... uh—”
You cut him off, stepping closer and lowering your voice “Don’t tell me you’re saying no, Kim Hongjoong.”
He responds immediately to your harsh tone when saying his name “Shopping it is.”
You clap your hands together in mock excitement “Perfect! You can meet me outside in ten minutes. Oh,” You turn to Dann, a sickly sweet smile spreading across your face, “And you’re coming too. I’ll need someone to carry my bags.”
Dann’s stomach knots as she swallows back a retort. She wants to argue, to tell you she has better things to do, but the cold, expectant look you throw her way dares her to say otherwise.
“I’ll... grab my things.” Dann mutters, her voice barely above a whisper.
You watch her retreating figure with a satisfied smirk, then you turn back to Hongjoong, your tone softening “We’re going to have a lot of fun!”
✮ ⋆
The luxury mall gleams under the bright lights, filled with the chatter of shoppers and the faint sound of background music. You move through the aisles of an upscale clothing store with an air of authority, Hongjoong walks beside you gladly holding your hand while Dann follows at a distance, burdened with shopping bags that seem to multiply by the minute.
You pause your walk in front of a mannequin dressed in a sharp blazer and slim-fit pants.
“This is perfect for you.” You turn to Hongjoong, your eyes scanning him with a mix of scrutiny and mischief “Put it on. Let me see.”
He hesitates, glancing at the price tag “It's so expensive.”
You step closer, your fingers brushing lightly against his as you take the tag out of his hand.
“Don’t look at the price. Your only job is to look good for me.” Hongjoong’s cheeks flush, but he nods and takes the blazer to the fitting room. You turn to Dann, your smirk widening “Careful, Dann. Those bags are worth more than your tuition. Don’t drop them.”
Dann glares at you, but she says nothing, her grip tightening on the handles.
Moments later, Hongjoong reemerges, the blazer fitting him like it was tailored just for him.
Your eyes light up as you clap your hands “I knew it! You look incredible, Joongie!”
You step closer, tugging at the lapels to adjust them. Your hands linger, smoothing the fabric over his chest before trailing down to his forearm. Hongjoong stands frozen, his breath catching as your touch sends a spark through him.
It's only been two days since that incredible blowjob, an act too intimate in his opinion, but he still can't help but feel shy about your touch and presence in general.
You lean teasingly close enough that he can feel your breath “I might just keep you dressed like this all the time. You look hot.”
Hongjoong chuckles nervously, his face bright red. Your lips curve into a sly smile, and before he can react, you lean in, brushing your lips softly against his mouth. Giving him a little peak.
“Consider it a reward for being such a good boy.”
He feels his ears burn, and his pulse racing at the sudden show of affection. Also; that pet name makes him feel something he shouldn't.
Dann, standing a few feet away, shifts uncomfortably, her expression a mix of bitterness and hurt.
✮ ⋆
You are sitting in a plush chair, slipping on a pair of sleek red stilettos. You stretch your leg out, admiring the way the shoes accentuate your figure. Hongjoong sits nearby, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, while Dann sits on a bench surrounded by luxury brand bags with all your purchases.
You glance up at Hongjoong with a mischievous smile “What do you think? Pretty?”
You tilt your foot, the curve of the stiletto catching the light.
Hongjoong stammers, his eyes darting nervously “Uh… They’re… pretty.”
“Is that all you’ve got?”
You stand, crossing the short distance to him. Placing your hands on the arms of his chair, leaning closer, your face inches from his.
“Say it like you mean it, Joong.”
He swallows hard, his voice barely above a whisper “You’re stunning.”
You smirk, clearly pleased. You straighten up, brushing a hand lightly across his shoulder as you walk back to your seat.
“That 's better. I like it when you’re honest.”
Dann shifts awkwardly, her eyes darting between you two. You notice and smirk again,
“We’ll take these. And those boots too.” You say to the salesperson with a sweet smile.
“YN, you really don’t need to buy me things.”
“Hongjoong…” You cut him off as you step closer again “I want to do it.”
Your thumb brushes lightly over his shirt, and he nods, his breath hitching.
Dann looks away, her face tight as she pretends not to notice.
✮ ⋆
All of you step out into the cool evening air, the weight of the shopping bags palpable, well… at least for Dann.
You walk confidently ahead, your hand joined with Hongjoong's was becoming a habit, casual intimacy.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? Shopping is fun.” You tease with a grin.
Hongjoong chuckles nervously, his gaze darting to the bags Dann carries.
“I feel bad, though. About, you know… her.”
Your smile falters slightly, but you recover quickly, tightening your grip on his hand.
“She needs this. It’s character building.” You stop abruptly, turning to face him. Your free hand reaches up to toy with the collar of his denim jacket “And you need this too. You’re not the same guy you were last week, Hongjoong.” You lean in, your lips capturing his, lingering just enough to make his knees weak “You’re mine now. Don’t forget that.”
Hongjoong nods, his heart pounding as you lead him to your car.
Behind you, Dann struggles to keep up, her expression a mixture of bitterness and heartbreak.
YN and Hongjoong holding hands.
YN brushing her lips against his in fleeting, possessive kisses.
YN laughing, her voice light and carefree, while Hongjoong smiled at her like she hung the stars.
Each glance they shared felt like a dagger. It wasn’t just the weight of the bags that left Dann breathless; it was the sight of Hongjoong, her Joong, so completely absorbed into your orbit.
Dann swallows the lump in her throat as a sharp ache settles in her chest. She had known this day would come…. the day Hongjoong is fully absorbed into your world, but it didn’t make it any easier.
For every bag she carried, there was another piece of herself being stripped away, replaced by bitter envy and an unbearable sense of invisibility.
By the time they reached your sprawling mansion, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The estate was as imposing as ever, with its perfectly manicured lawns and grand double doors.
You toss your keys to the porter, your demeanor as effortless and commanding as always.
“Let’s head up to my room,” You say, turning to Hongjoong with a smile that could light up the night “Snacks and a movie sound good?”
Hongjoong hesitates, glancing at Dann, who stands at the base of the grand staircase, clutching the bags like they were her lifeline.
It's not the first time he's spent the afternoon at your house, but having Dann right there watching your interactions makes guilt consume him.
“Uh… yeah, sure.” He mumbles, torn between your intoxicating pull and the pang of remorse that lingers whenever he sees Dann.
“Dann.” You call sharply, breaking Hongjoong’s thoughts “Take these up to my closet. Organize everything by type and color. Oh! And tell your mom to bring up snacks for us in ten minutes.”
Dann’s stomach churn, but she nods, her jaw tightening as she obeys.
Inside your room, the atmosphere is a world away from the cold detachment of the mansion downstairs. The expansive space is bathed in soft pastel tones, luxurious fabrics, and delicate lighting from the ornate chandeliers.
Despite its size and splendor, the room always feels surprisingly intimate.
You plop into the oversized bed, tossing your designer heels to the floor without care as you pat the spot beside you, looking at Hongjoong with an expectant smirk.
“Come on, don’t be weird about it. Sit.”
Hongjoong sits down, his posture stiff despite the number of times he's been there now. You roll your eyes, leaning into him with playful ease. “Relax, Joongie. I don’t bite… unless you want to.” You tease, running a hand lightly over his arm.
He gives you a little shy smile, but says nothing.
The movie began playing on the massive screen, though neither of you seemed particularly interested in it. You lean back against his shoulder, your head resting there comfortably.
You grab a handful of popcorn from the tray one of the maids had just delivered, holding a piece up to his lips, fingers brushing against his mouth as you feed him, and you smirk when you notice him blush.
As Hongjoong grows more comfortable, his gaze wanders around your room. His eyes caught on a silver-framed photo on your nightstand. It shows you smiling—truly smiling—beside a tall, impeccably dressed man with striking features.
“Is he your brother? The one that Seonghwa mentioned that day?” He asks cautiously, nodding toward the photo.
Your teasing smirk falters for a moment, and your body stiff slightly against him. You sit up and grab the frame, holding it in your hands as your eyes trace over the image.
“Yeah… That’s Mike.”
Hongjoong sense a shift in your tone, the lightness replace by something far heavier “I didn't know you had a brother.”
“Almost no one knows, only a few. He’s... perfect. The perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect everything.” Your fingers grip the frame a little tighter “He’s the reason I’ll never be good enough for my parents, no matter what I do.”
He frowns, leaning in slightly “YN...”
You force a small laugh, though it sounds hollow “He’s studying abroad now, getting his business master’s degree. Every time he comes back, it’s just to remind me how much better he is at everything. And if he ever found out about... stuff, he’d make sure my parents knew. It’d be game over for me.”
Your words falter as if Seonghwa’s voice still echoes in your mind from that day in the cafeteria.
'How do you think he would react if he found out about all the bad things you've done since he left?'
Hongjoong shifts closer, his hand resting gently on yours as you hold the photo “YN, nobody’s perfect—not even him. And you’re not... you’re not as bad as you think you are.”
You look at him, lips pressing into a tight line “You don’t know him, Hongjoong. He would... he’d destroy me if he knew half the things I’ve done.” Your voice cracks slightly, and you quickly look away.
Hongjoong hesitates before squeezing your hand gently “Maybe he’s not as invincible as you think. Maybe he’s got his own flaws, like everyone else.”
You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eye quickly as if you would never show vulnerability for too long.
“That’s generous of you.”
“No, it’s honest. You’re more than whatever shadow he’s cast over you. I mean it.”
For a moment, you just stare at him. Your usual sharpness seems to melt away, replaced by something softer, something raw. Then you set the photo back on the nightstand, your hand lingering on it briefly.
“Thanks…” You murmur, so softly it's almost inaudible.
He leans back with you again, letting you rest your head on his shoulder once more. Neither of you say anything, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable.
It’s a rare moment of understanding, one they both seem to need.
As Dann carries the bags upstairs, she hears the faint sounds of your laughter and Hongjoong’s responses through the closed bedroom door.
Her heart twists, the weight of the shopping bags nothing compared to the invisible burden she carries.
Dann unpacks the bags in your enormous closet, her hands moving automatically as her mind replays every painful moment of the day. When she finishes, she sits on the edge of your chaise lounge, staring at the floor.
From the hallway, she hears soft laughter and murmurs from your room, each sound a reminder of how far you and Hongjoong have drifted apart.
Her mother passes by with a tray of tea, her face tight with worry as she glances at her daughter. Dann gives her a weak smile, but as the door to your room closes behind her mother, the bitterness and heartbreak she’d been holding back finally spills over.
She sits in silence, the faint echoes of your laughter stabbing at her like tiny needles.
In that grand mansion filled with people, Dann had never felt so utterly alone.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
Once again, Dann sighs tired while she organizes your and your friends' drinks on the table.
“Careful, Dann. If you spill anything, that’s just more work for you.”
She wants to roll her eyes at your words but she doesn't want to make a scene.
“Honestly, she should be thanking you, YN. Who else would give her such a generous chance to repay her debt?”
Dann places the drinks carefully on the table, her hands trembling slightly from exhaustion and frustration. She doesn’t reply to those sharp comments, knowing that any response could worsen her situation.
Mindy laughs, taking a sip of her coffee “She’s like your little pet now, Babe. So obedient.”
Dann grits her teeth but keeps her head down, focusing on arranging the drinks neatly “I’m not a pet.”
You raise an eyebrow, your sharp ears catching the quiet defiance “What was that, Dann?”
Dann stiffens, her hands clenching into fists by her sides. She looks up, meeting your cold gaze with as much courage as she can muster.
“I said I’m not a pet.”
The table goes silent for a moment, the air thick with tension. You lean back in the chair, crossing your legs elegantly. Your lips curve into a dangerous smile.
“Not a pet? Funny, because you’re doing a pretty good impression of one. Running around, fetching drinks, doing homework. Should I get you a designer leash next?”
Mindy and the others burst into laughter, and Dann feels her face burn with humiliation.
“YN, maybe that’s a bit much…” Hongjoong quietly, almost hesitantly says.
“Oh, now you have something to say? Where was this energy all last week when she was crying about carrying my books?”
Hongjoong looks down, not daring to meet your eyes. Dann glances at him, hoping for some semblance of solidarity, but he avoids her gaze entirely.
You sigh dramatically and turn your attention back to Dann “Now, Dann, let’s be clear. You ruined an expensive dress, so until I say otherwise, you’re working for me. Unless you’d rather I take the cost straight from your mom’s paycheck?”
Dann’s breath catches, and she clenches her fists tighter “No... I’ll keep working.”
“Good girl. Now, you’ve wasted enough time here. Go grab some snacks.”
Dann hesitates, her pride fighting against the inevitable, but ultimately she turns and walks toward the counter.
“Anyways, tomorrow I won't come, my father has a billion-dollar meeting and important executives will have dinner at my house, so don't miss me too much.” You drink your smoothie gracefully and your friends laugh.
“That's right, queen, I hope your dad gets those billions and can go on that summer trip that we have planned.”
“Of course it will be, my daddy is the best at his job.”
When Dann returns to the table, you look up at her with a saccharine smile “Took you long enough. Now clean this up, and make it quick. We’re leaving soon.”
Dann nods silently, her head low, as she leaves the snacks on the table and starts cleaning it. Her chest feels heavy, but she pushes the feelings down, knowing there’s no use fighting back.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
It’s a rare day at school without you on her all the time. Dann feels a strange mix of relief and unease knowing you are back at your mansion, preparing for your father’s dinner.
With no errands to run for you, Dann finally has a moment to herself.
She sits quietly in the library with Jongho, Yeosang and Yunho, all of them engrossed in a shared book, when Hongjoong unexpectedly joins them.
“Hey, guys.” He greets them happily.
“Aren't you going to play at being popular today?” Jongho makes fun of him and he rolls his eyes while taking a seat next to Yunho.
“She is not here today Jongho….” Dann murmurs without taking her eyes out of the book, but then she frowns, looking at Hongjoong “Wait, why aren’t you with her friends? Did they give you the day off, too?”
“As you said, YN is not here. Why should I stay with her annoying friends? I prefer to hang out with you guys.” Hongjoong shrugs, smiling to see his friends here.
“Why?” Yeosang narrows his eyes at him.
This looked suspicious, for two weeks he ignored them as if they hadn't been friends since high school, and now he's coming back as if nothing happened.
“What do you mean, why? Can’t I just hang out with my friends?”
Yunho raises an eyebrow “We haven’t exactly been friends since... well, since you started following YN like a dog.”
Hongjoong lowers his gaze in sorrow “That’s not fair. Things are complicated with her.”
Jongho snorts “Complicated? That’s a nice way of putting it. You mean stupidity.”
Hongjoong shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he glances at the book in their hands.
“You’re still into these epic fantasy novels, huh? Guess some things never change.”
Yunho smiles softly “And you’re still into coding, I bet. Or did YN ban you from being a nerd?”
Everyone laughs at the tallest funny remark, even Hongjoong does.
“I sneak in some nerd time when she’s not looking.”
They fall into a familiar rhythm, talking about things they used to enjoy together. Books, games, and small, silly inside jokes.
For the first time in what feels like forever, they see a glimpse of the Hongjoong they used to know.
They had missed him a lot, but just as they’re laughing about an old shared memory, Mindy, one of your closest friends, spots them from across the library and strides over, her heels clicking against the floor.
“Well, isn’t this cozy? The nerd squad back in action.” She mocks.
“What do you want, Mindy?” Jongho is the first one to confront her.
“Oh, nothing. Just making mental notes for YN. You know how she gets when people step out of line, right Dann?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business for once?” She closes her book suddenly feeling angry at Mindy’s presence.
Mindy ignores her words, patting Hongjoong’s shoulder “Just giving you a friendly warning, Joong. YN’s not going to be thrilled when she hears about this little reunion. Better get your story straight before she does.”
Mindy saunters off, leaving behind an uneasy silence. Hongjoong looks conflicted, running a hand through his hair.
“She’s not here, Joong. You don’t have to let her control you every second of the day.” Yeosang says softly, feeling pity for his friend.
“It’s not that simple, you don’t get it.”
“Maybe we don’t. But you used to.”
They don't push further, but the words hang in the air. For a brief moment, Hongjoong feels a pang of guilt, a memory of simpler times when things weren’t so messy.
✮ ⋆
Meanwhile, back at the mansion, you are busy overseeing preparations for your father’s dinner when Mindy calls to report what she saw.
“Babygirl, you’re not going to like this, but guess who Hongjoong was spending his day with?”
You frown “What are you talking about?”
“Your little maid, Dann and the other freaks. They were all chummy in the library. It was kind of gross, honestly. Looked like they were best friends again.”
Your grip tightens around the phone. The thought of Hongjoong spending his time with his old friends you care little about, but with Dann… laughing with her, reminiscing. Sparks a flicker of jealousy and anger.
“Thanks for letting me know, babe.”
Cutting the call, you tell yourself it’s nothing. But the idea of Hongjoong slipping back to his old life, even for a moment, makes your blood boil.
The sound of the preparations for the business dinner echoes faintly through the mansion, but your focus is entirely on the phone.
Maybe you should remind Hongjoong which class he belongs to now.
Hongjoong’s phone buzzes just as he’s settling into class after his little encounter with his friends. His stomach drops when he sees your name pop up.
YN♡: I heard you were with Dann at school today. Care to explain why you thought that was a good idea?
Joong: We were just talking.
YN♡: Talking? Mindy says you were hanging out like old friends. Do you even realize how that makes me look?
Hongjoong hesitates, his mind racing. He knows your temper and doesn’t want to risk your wrath.
Joong: It’s not like that. I was just bored, and she’s… easy to be around when there’s nothing better to do.
The words feel wrong even as he types them, but he presses send anyway.
YN♡: Keep it in mind, Joongie. She’s not your friend anymore. You belong to me, remember that.
Joong: I know, YN. I won’t talk to her again. Promise.
✮ ⋆
It’s late in the evening. The business dinner is in full swing downstairs, but you have excused yourself to your room.
When you hear Dann come back from helping the staff, you call her up.
Dann knocks hesitantly on your door. She’s exhausted from helping clean up after the dinner preparations, but your icy summons gives her no choice.
“Close the door and sit.” With your head you point to the seat next to your large bed. Dann obeys, her hands clenching nervously in her lap “So, I heard you had a good time with Hongjoong today.”
Dann opens her mouth to start babbling “I… I didn’t mean anything by it. He just—”
“Oh, spare me. I already know everything.” You interrupt her.
You toss your phone onto the bed so Dann can see the screen. It’s open to Hongjoong’s messages.
Dann reads it, and her eyes moisten with sadness ‘easy to be around when there’s nothing better to do…’ Her heart sinks. The words sting more than she expected, and she feels a lump form in her throat.
“See? Even he knows where you stand. You’re nothing, Dann. A convenient distraction when he’s bored. That’s all you will ever be.” You lean back, watching the emotions flicker across Dann’s face; confusion, sadness, and humiliation.
“Why are you showing me this?” She whispers.
A mischievous smile lands on your lips “To remind you of your place. Don’t get too comfortable with Hongjoong. I don’t share what's mine.” Dann nods silently, unable to meet your gaze “Good. Now get out. I have to go back to an important dinner.”
You sit back down on your bed, satisfied but strangely restless while Dann stumbles out of the room, holding back tears.
As she retreats to the staff quarters her emotions swirl, the door clicks shut behind her, her legs give out, and she slides to the floor, the weight of your words pressing down on her chest.
She pulls her knees to her chest, resting her forehead against them as the messages replay in her mind.
‘Easy to be around when there’s nothing better to do.’
The words sting like a fresh wound, sharp and unrelenting. Hongjoong’s voice echoes in her head; not the Hongjoong she knew from before, the one who stayed up late helping her study for exams, who always made her laugh even when things were tough.
This Hongjoong felt like a stranger, someone who would say anything to stay in your good graces.
Her heart aches.
Why does she keep hoping he’ll be the person he used to be?
Dann clenches her fists, anger flickering alongside the sadness. Your smirk and your cruel words swirl in her thoughts, too. Dann knows your power, the way you can bend people like Hongjoong to your will.
But that doesn’t excuse him. He chose to say those things about her.
A single tear slips down her cheek, and she brushes it away furiously. She’s tired of feeling weak, tired of being the easy target.
"You’ll regret this, YN. One day, you’ll push too far, and everything you’ve built will crumble.” Dann exhales slowly, her tears finally dry “I can’t let her win. I won’t let her win."
✮ ⋆
Early the next morning, Dann wakes before dawn, the Clarke’s mansion still cloaked in silence.
She moves through her routine with mechanical precision, but her mind is elsewhere. Formulating, planning.
She thinks she owns me. That her words and her smirks can crush me into submission. And maybe, for a while, they did. But every cutting remark, every degrading task, only sharpens my focus.
'One day YN Clarke, you’ll realize I’m not as small as you think I am.'
She pulls on her simple clothes, smoothing the creases in the mirror. For a brief moment, her reflection stares back, eyes tired but filled with a quiet fire.
"I won't let her humiliate me anymore.”
Later that day at school in the cafeteria during lunch. You and your entourage sit at your usual table, the center of attention, laughing and chatting.
Dann approaches, carrying your latte on a tray. Her face is calm, but her heart races. She’s had enough of your endless demands and sharp tongue.
Dann’s fingers tighten around the tray. She can feel the weight of their stares, the way Mindy smirks at her like she’s a walking joke.
Her stomach churns, but she keeps her head high. She’s done everything you asked, swallowed every cruel word, and yet you still treat her like dirt.
‘One little accident wouldn’t hurt.’ She tells herself.
As she reaches the table, her hand shifts slightly, and the latte tilts; pouring straight into the table and your purse.
“What the hell?! Are you crazy?” You gasp with sharp voice
Dann feigns panic, though her lips twitch with suppressed satisfaction “I’m so sorry! It slipped!”
You stand abruptly, staring at your stained designer purse. Through gritted teeth “It slipped? You’ve got to be kidding me.” You scoff.
“Wow, Dann. Maybe YN’s been too nice to you.”
You narrow your eyes “You’re right, Mindy. I think Dann needs a reminder of her place.”
Dann’s satisfaction fades as Mindy steps behind her, pushing her forcefully down to her knees. The cafeteria goes silent, all eyes on the scene unfolding.
“What—what are you doing? I said I’m sorry!” Dann starts to panic, her confidence leaving immediately.
“Sorry isn’t enough.” You step closer, towering over Dann. Your voice drops, sharp and cruel “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Dropping my drink on purpose like a little brat. Let me make one thing clear. Your mother might work for my family, but that doesn’t mean you’re worth anything. You’re just a servant’s kid playing in a world you don’t belong to.”
Tears sting Dann’s eyes, but she bites her lip, refusing to cry. You smirk and Mindy crouches at Dann's height to whisper against her ear.
“Now, beg. Right here, in front of everyone. Beg for her forgiveness.”
“No... I won’t—” She shakes her head. You cut her off, stepping forward and pressing your Louboutin heel onto Dann’s hand “Stop! That hurts!” She yelps with tears rolling down her cheeks now.
You let out a slight laugh at her cries “That’s the point. Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before trying to humiliate me.”
The cafeteria is deathly quiet, the other students frozen, unsure whether to intervene.
Hongjoong stands a few feet away, frozen in shock. His stomach churns as you dig your heel into Dann’s hand, and your words like knives.
Hongjoong steps forward, raising his voice.
“YN, stop!”
You turn your head sharply, her eyes narrowing “Oh, What’s the matter, Joongie? Feeling guilty for siding with me?”
“This isn’t right. Let her go.”
You've never seen him so serious, for the first time his look made you feel intimidated. You blink several times before faking a smile.
“Fine. I’m in a good mood today.” You step back, your heel lifting off Dann’s hand.
She pulls her hand back, cradling it as she glances up at Hongjoong, his expression torn between anger and guilt. She wants to scream at him, to tell him it’s too late for him to play the good guy.
But instead, she swallows her pride, standing shakily and clutching her bruised hand. She doesn’t say another word. Instead, she stands up and walks out of the cafeteria, leaving the whispers and stares behind.
You watch her go, your lips curling into a satisfied smirk. Hongjoong’s angry glare doesn’t faze you; if anything, it’s amusing.
“You’re welcome to join her if you want. Maybe you two can cry about it together.”
He doesn’t respond, but the look he gives you says more than words ever could. He lets out a sigh and begins to walk in the direction Dann left.
You snort without being able to believe what you see “Fucking losers.”
Taking your phone, you open the chat you have with him.
YN♡: I hope you enjoy your return to the losers’ club, ungrateful pet.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
Taglist: @alliecoady98 @maidens-world @justconniez @luvvvash @silenttrxxs @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @xh01bri @beabatiny @yothangie @posseup @0407files @cheolright @innocygnet @a-tiny-thing @sannieily @maplelilly05 @m0onchild-98
Join the Taglist: Here
☆○☆○☆
All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.
194 notes · View notes
teddy06writes · 4 months ago
Text
Take Care of You
Tumblr media
Fiyero Tigelaar x gn!reader
Prompt(s): "I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need your help, and I definitely don’t need your pity. Fuck off.” / "You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m right here for you if you’ll just let me in.”
Trigger Warnings: Swearing, general descriptions of sickness, stress, something in readers background makes them not want to depend on people, out of character fiyero? (idk man I've only seen the movie and read a lot of gilyeraba fics}
Summary: You and Fiyero have been going out for a few weeks, but you're still hesitant to let yourself get too near him. When you come down with the mysterious illness that's been working its way through Shiz, Fiyero's determined to nurse you through it, despite your reservations.
The harder you tried to focus on the words before you, the more your head swam. The library was quiet, and the lights were dim, so there shouldn't have been any chances of your headache getting worse. Yet pain still thundered at your temples.
Of course, after dodging this sickness for weeks, you caught it just in time for Dr. Dillamond to assign a very important project. It was just your luck.
You dropped your pen to the side, letting your head drop down onto your arms, heaving in a deep breath. No matter what you took or how much you tried to shake it, you could lose the bone tiredness that had been plaguing you for days now.
"You alright, darling? How long have you been holed up in here for?"
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Fiyero's voice, dragging your head up so quickly you swore you saw spots, "Uh-"
"Woah, hey," He quickly sat down in the chair next to you, reaching out like he needed to steady you, "What's going on?"
You blinked, trying to clear your vision, "Sorry- sorry, I'm just- tired."
"No need to apologize, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
Clearing your throat, you nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just have a bit of a headache."
Fiyero frowned, glancing at the textbook in front of you, "Well how long have you been working? Maybe it's time for a break."
"Only an hour. I'm fine."
He watched you with concern as you turned back to your work. You could practically feel him watching you, surely taking stock of the dark bags under your eyes, the unusual paleness of your skin, the way you suddenly couldn't seem to warm up.
"Have you taken medicine-"
"Yes. I do know how to take care of myself, Fiyero." There's a sharpness to your voice even you don't expect.
Even out of the corner of your eye you can see him frown, "I know that, darling, I know. You just don't look too good."
You let out a sigh, starting turn toward him again, "Fiyero-"
Before you could stop him, he was reaching out to press the back of his hand to your forehead, his frown deepening, "Darling, your burning up, what on earth are you doing studying?"
"The new assignment from Dr. Dillamond-"
"Isn't due for a week and a half! I mean honestly- Darling you should be resting-"
You stood up abruptly, even as it made stars dance in your vision, "I've been taking care of myself for a long time. I don't need your help, and I certainly don't need your pity, so please, fuck off."
Fiyero had stood and managed to catch your wrist before you could even make it three steps away, pulling you to turn back to him with a strange, desperate look on his face, "Who said this was pity?"
"Fiyero--"
"Who said this was pity?" He repeated, letting go of your wrist only to cup your cheek, his voice dropping, "I happen to genuinely care about your wellbeing, because believe it or not, I care about you, darling."
You closed your eyes for a long moment, trying desperately to turn away, "Fiyero..."
"You don't have to go through this, or anything else alone. Not anymore, not while I'm here," His hand drifted back to the back of your neck, gently turning your face back to him, "I'm right here if you'll just let me in."
Just like that, something in you seemed to break, and you were suddenly trying to blink away tears.
"Oh- Darling-"
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry-"
Fiyero began gently wiping away he few tears that had escaped and were trailing down your cheeks, "Hey, hey, don't apologize..."
"I'm just so tired- I can't shake this no matter what I do."
"Well, forcing yourself to be out and about certainly isn't helping," Fiyero turned, beginning to gather up your books and tuck everything away into your bag, "Come on, let's get you back to your dorm so you can get some rest."
When he took your hand, you didn't fight it, instead allowing yourself to be led along, out of the library. Outside, the cool air only seemed to worsen your chill, and Fiyero was quick to shrug off his jacket, tucking it around your shoulders.
The walk back to the dorms felt twice as long as your original journey to the library had taken, but eventually, you'd made it. Fiyero had coaxed you to lie down, and after all but forcing you to take another dose of medicine, tucked you into bed as if it were his life's mission.
You managed to catch hold of his hand as he turned to leave, whispering hoarsely, "Thank you, 'yero."
"Of course, darling," He smiled softly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead, "I'll come by and check on you in the morning, yeah?"
But the only response he got was the sound of your soft snores. Chuckling to himself, Fiyero pressed another kiss to your forehead, before backing out of your room.
~~~
Enjoyed this fic? Help me buy textbooks :)
266 notes · View notes
celestie0 · 5 months ago
Text
hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)
i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now
although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.
i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense
as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.
anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.
sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.
anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!
165 notes · View notes
onlydylanobrien · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
New still of Dylan O'Brien as Rocky/ Roman and James Sweeney as Dennis in "Twinless". (2025)
📷©: ew.com
First look at Dylan O’Brien’s Twinless, a Sundance contender that takes inspiration from the Olsen twins
"That visceral moment of 'you look just like me' is imprinted in my formative memories," says writer-director James Sweeney.
Nineties kids are kind of obsessed with twins. And for good reason — we grew up with the Olsen twins, the remake of The Parent Trap, and Sister, Sister.
Writer-director James Sweeney takes that obsession to the next level with Twinless, his sophomore feature that will have its world premiere on Jan. 23 at the Sundance Film Festival. Entertainment Weekly has your exclusive first look at the film, in which Sweeney costars alongside Dylan O'Brien.
"I grew up in a generation that idolized twins," Sweeney tells EW. "It was very much in my zeitgeist. It was a manifestation of the perfect best friend, somebody you could share everything with. As a military brat hopping around, that was something I really craved. When I told my stepmom about what the film was, she was like, 'Oh, you used to beg me for a twin, and I had to explain to you that I can't make that happen.'"
That early fascination is evident in Twinless, which even features a scene with a character watching the Olsen twins' film It Takes Two. "That was definitely my fantasy," Sweeney says of the 1995 film. "It's like, 'Oh, one day I'll just magically run into my identical twin.' Even though they're actually not twins, they're just lookalikes. But that visceral moment of 'You look just like me' is imprinted in my formative memories."
As for Twinless, the film tells the story of a twin, Roman (O'Brien), who loses his brother, Rocky (also O'Brien), and feels like he's lost half of himself. After Rocky dies, Roman decides to stay in Rocky's Portland, OR apartment as he navigates his grief. While attending a support group for twin loss, he befriends Dennis (Sweeney), a fellow lost soul — and the two find solace in each other, forming an unlikely bromance.
"Roman and Dennis get along so well because they're both bringing their respective baggage and grief and traumas to the table," Sweeney says. "They bond and complement each other."
Sweeney is not a twin, but he did base his script on the existence of twin bereavement support groups. Though, out of respect for all involved, he didn't attend one of their meetings. "I thought it would be too much to attend," he explains. "I did order a book from their website, because I did research and read some books written by twin psychologists. One was called Alone in the Mirror, which touches on twin loss. It was written by the co-founder of the support group, and I paid $25 and they never sent me a book."
Even without that book (he tried!), Sweeney was fascinated by the psychology of twins and how that unique bond differs from those of siblings who are not twins. "I would say being a twin isn't a monolithic experience, so there's so many variations," Sweeney notes. "It also has a lot to do with how the parents reared their children and whether or not they encouraged or discouraged individuality between the twins. But there's a lot of studies done on twins because they see them as the perfect specimen."
Explorating what it means to be (and lose) a twin first attracted O'Brien to the project. Sweeney wrote the first draft in 2015, and O'Brien has been attached since 2020. But the script grabbed the actor from the moment it popped up in his inbox alongside several others his manager sent his way.
"I'm fascinated by it in terms of it being something so unique on this earth," O'Brien says of the twin dynamic. "That is one of those things that really, unless you experience it, you can't understand. Twinless support groups exist because it is a very specific loss and trauma that you need support with — losing a connectivity that us normies can't ever quite understand. That deeply resonated with me, even though I don't have a twin. I found it to be a really compelling and heart-wrenching center to this story. This tragically poignant tale of this kid losing his other half."
That, along with his love for his character, propelled O'Brien to stick with the project these last five years while the film searched for funding and postponed production in the wake of the 2023 Hollywood strikes. "It was a gut thing for me," O'Brien reflects. "I remember falling in love with Roman immediately. I read a character, and either I have that soul in me or not. Roman's somebody I know really deep down."
Sweeney was incredibly moved by O'Brien's dedication and enthusiasm for the project, a quality that was evident from their first meeting. "When I first met Dylan over Zoom, he really took ownership over the role in a way that I had never experienced with an actor," Sweeney says. "He basically said, 'I see you. I see your voice. I understand this character and his every emotion.' That gave me a lot of confidence."
For both O'Brien and Sweeney, getting to make this movie entirely on their terms was a creative reward unto itself. "The script was so fantastic and dialed in from the time I first read it," O'Brien notes. "I authentically connected to it all. It was one of those wonderful creative experiences."
But now they get to share it with the world, beginning in the U.S. Dramatic Competition at the Sundance Film Festival. Still, Sweeney says anything from here on is a cherry on top of his twin sundae.
"This was an instance where I had optimal creative control and a wonderful team championing me to do exactly the movie I wanted to make," he concludes. "I know that's a rare gift. I'm super excited for people to see the film and to find its audience. But as far as I'm concerned, I'm already content."
135 notes · View notes
ssivinee · 2 years ago
Text
✧Forever Yours✧
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
BEBE! Bada Lee x Dancer! F Reader: You and Bada were quite a well-known duo within the dance world. You two grew up together and have been inseparable ever since, but as you drifted apart, you met again on Street Woman Fighter 2.
Word Count: 4.8k
Note: Bada has been a simp for you since you were kids. You both have the same energy and vibe. (you mainly dom Bada tho🤭)
Character Vision Board
Tumblr media
For your entire life, dance was all you knew, and growing up with Bada helped you realize what your passion was at a young age. You two met at the age of 4 during one of Bada's first dance classes, and you two instantly became friends once the dance teacher pointed out how much you two looked alike despite not being related.
"Lee Bada, Kim Y/n, are you two cousins?" The teacher asks, looking at her clipboard, then looking back and forth between the two of you.
As the both of you shook your head no, the teacher pouts, "But you two look so much alike?"
Bada then glances at you, standing in front of the class, looking very prideful with a grin. You wore an oversized light blue graphic tee, grey joggers, white sneakers, and a white beanie. In Bada's eyes, you were the coolest in the class, AND she was compared to you?
Now that was a huge ego booster.
Your eyes meet hers, and before Bada can even try to avoid eye contact, you give a wave so she returns a shy smile.
"For the dance today, we will be working in partners, so please find someone to work with," the dance teacher says. Bada's eyes began to wander, worried that she might not even find a partner, but she felt a tap on her shoulder. She was shocked to see you, "Bada, right? I'm Y/n. Would you wanna be my partner today?"
Bada's eyes widen in excitement as she nods. It was the best choice on your end because you two were at the top of your dance class that day. During your next dance class together, you decided to stand next to Bada rather than go to your usual front spot. Throughout each class, the both of you realized you had so much in common and had similar interests.
From then on, you two did everything together. You two, ironically, went to the same schools, which encouraged the time you spent with each other. All the events in your life, like dance club, projects, homework, studying, group hangouts, and dance classes, were all spent with Bada by your side.
Things took a turn in your friendship during high school. You began to be attracted to girls, which confused Bada then. Sexuality became a prevalent talk amongst people your age. This caused you to experiment, so while Bada stuck to crushing on boys, you were already dating and got your first kiss at the end of your first year.
You then went on a vacation to the States for the entire summer that year and struggled. This was the first time you were away from your best friend for so long, making you anxious.
To cope with this, you took various dance classes with different dance genres, and making the gym apart of your stress relievers. After 3 months passed, you were finally coming home, and Bada would get to see you on your first day as a second-year student.
So, on the first day, the tall girl rushes to school to find you talking to an unfamiliar student.
"The new girl is so pretty."
"I heard she's half Japanese."
"I'm pretty sure she's rich. I saw her getting dropped off by a Rolls-Royce today."
"She's bold for talking to Y/n. By the way, didn't she get hotter? What's in the air in the US?"
Though Bada wasn't paying too much attention to the other students, she did get an answer to her thoughts, 'new girl?'
She observes the interaction, mainly you. Your hair got longer, you seemed to have grown an inch or two, and your physique was leaner, with your muscles more prominent. You changed, and Bada couldn't deny how much she liked it, even though you two FaceTimed regularly during your vacation.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bada also can't help but admire your outfit, like she always does. Somehow, you looked ten hotter in her eyes at the moment, and she always thought you looked good. As she watched, the new girl's movements became quite flirtatious.
Her fingers would drag up and down your arms, and as she laughed, she would lean into you, trying to balance herself by pressing on your abs.
Your one-man audience began to feel irritated.
That's when Bada comes to a realization when she sees you, for the first time in months, befriending the new girl in school.
She was jealous.
After the conversation, you see Bada and immediately go up and hug her with a smile, leaning your head on top of hers and rocking your bodies back and forth.
"I missed you so much," you whispered to her, and her cheeks flushed lightly as she felt butterflies in her stomach.
"I missed you too."
During your second year, Bada's feelings grew for you, and she didn't know what to do. She didn't want to ruin her friendship with you, and she wasn't exactly sure if she liked girls. So, to ease her mind, Bada began finding little ways to see if what she felt was real.
Exhibit A. Bada 'confessed' to you about her slight crush on Hyunjae, aka your school's biggest jerk.
"Bada you can't be serious right now."
"What? He's sweet, always nice, and brings me coffee some mornings? What's so bad about him?"
"You know better than anyone here that the dude wants the privilege of sleeping with you and will be boasting about it to the entire school."
Bada acts hurt at your comments and once realizing how harsh it may have sounded on your end, you expressed, "Dude your one of the most wanted girls in the school, any boy would kill to be in Hyunjae's position right now. But there are so many other boys worth your heart, just not him."
She chuckles at your joking tone in the end. "Hey, if bringing you coffee occasionally makes you happy, I'll do that for you." Bada thought that was another joke, but you brought her an iced americano the next day.
"A coffee for the best girl in the world," you say as you hand her the cup. She blushes and thanks you with a hug. The following week and the week after, you kept bringing her coffee until it became a sacred thing you did for her every week of your friendship.
Exhibit B. It was Valentine's Day, and you and Bada were getting gifts from many people. Bada got letters, sweets, drinks, and stuffed animals from multiple guys. You had the same dilemma with numerous girls handing you multiple letters, confession notes, and anonymous ones in your locker.
At the end of the school day, both of you threw out all the gifts while hanging out in a dance studio near your school. Bada had something prepared for you though, she had bought you a new hoodie in your favorite color and a tulip she bought, last minute, on her way to the studio.
Once you come in, she hands you a bag, "Happy Valentine's Day." Your heart felt warm at the gift, and you began to get excited, "Wait here for a second," was all you said as you walked out.
'Did she not like my gift?' Bada worried, and as you came in, she was about to apologize if you didn't like it but was shocked to see you holding a heart-shaped balloon, a small box, and a bag. You smiled and gave her the items, "Happy Valentine's Day to my number one."
You somehow knew how to make her heart pump furiously. She opened your gift with a card, a bag of her favorite candy, snacks, and a new hat. She began to read the card but was shocked to see how short it was, somewhat feeling a bit let down.
You wrote: "Dear Bada,
We've been best friends for 12 years, and I can proudly say those were the best years of my life. You make me want to be a better person, and you will be my ride or die forever. I love you so much and hope our friendship lasts a lifetime."
She was about to finish reading, but you interrupted her as she closed the card, "Read the back." Bada looks at you confused but reads, 'Open the blue box.'
She stares at the box, then looks at you with eyes of suspicion, "Oh, come on, open it!" you say with pure excitement in your voice.
Bada opens the surprise to find a small note on top of it.
'Thank you for being the moon to my sun,' Under it was a bracelet with a moon charm and her name. She looks at you in complete shock while you raise your arm, pulling down your sleeve to show her the matching one with your name on it and the sun.
Bada feels a rush of emotions and hugs you, tearing up at the heartfelt gift.
Exhibit C. Bada wanted to test the waters, so when hanging out at your house on the last few weeks of school, she confesses what's been on her mind for a while.
"Y/n?" You were doing some studying but put your full attention on her after hearing your name, "yes?"
"How did you know you liked girls?"
You pondered her question, "I guess, when it came to many guys I had crushes on, I didn't feel a strong connection. To me, girls felt comforting, understanding, and overall beautiful. Then I met Yoonji, and it confirmed my thoughts." Bada's face goes into disgust upon hearing your ex's name, but as you laugh at her reaction, you begin to wonder.
"Why?"
"Well, I've been thinking. Every time I had a crush on a guy, yes, I've had a connection with some, but as soon as I can make it even as far as a kiss, I begin to shut down the idea."
Now that was news to you, "You're telling me the Lee Bada hasn't had her first kiss yet?" She shyly shakes her head no. "Well, no need to be embarrassed. Maybe you just haven't found the right person yet."
"I just feel like I'm lagging behind, you know?"
"I get it, but if you're saving it, that's also okay."
"I don't think I am. If anything, I wanna get it over with."
"That can also be arranged," now that statement piqued Bada's interest. "What do you mean?"
"If you wanna get it over with, you can kiss me. I mean, you trust me, right?" Of course, she did, causing her to nod and like your idea.
At first, her plan was to only find out if she liked girls, but she never thought she'd get this far. Her hands begin to sweat at the idea of the kiss.
"You do have experience, so I guess it would make my life easy," she mumbles. You sit down beside her on your bed, staring at her attentively. "You sure about this?" She nods again.
You delicately rest your hand under her chin, and Bada closes her eyes. Pulling her in slowly, she felt your lips on hers and melted. Your lips were sweet like the cherry chapstick you used. They were soft and warm. Your other hand rests on her waist, pulling her body closer to yours as you caress her face.
After kissing for about 2 minutes, you break apart and Bada looked at you with a slight shocked face.
"Was it good?" You asked concerned. 'It was more than good.'
"Yeah, of course it was." She hugs you, "Thanks for that."
While hugging you, all Bada can think of was, 'I'm so fucked...I'm so in love with you.'
Due to much anxiety, nervousness, and terrifying thoughts, Bada couldn't act on her feelings at all.
After two years, you two had developed a somewhat flirty friendship, and now you were in your first college years. You were both preparing all of your senior year to head into university and majoring in dance.
The process was definitely stressful, but you got through it together. As a celebratory 'we survived high school,' you two decided to get tattoos. Bada has a wave on her right forearm and a moon on her right wrist, while you have an orange and yellow colored sun on your left forearm and a small koi fish on your right wrist.
University was the biggest rollercoaster of your life. You didn't know if you could call it some of the best moments of your life or the most heartbreaking. You two got into the same school, and even dorming together was terrific.
The issue was the rift that was happening in your relationship. You two were doing your own things, meeting new groups of friends, and having drastically different schedules. It got to the point where it felt like you didn't have a roommate.
Well, you barely saw her anyway.
You two became part of a dance crew and garnered many opportunities in the dancing scene. This was the only time you ever saw her around.
While in school, you two auditioned for many background dancing positions, and your journey in the dance world began to sail from there.
After graduation, Bada started teaching classes, and by the end of university, she had many projects lined up for her. She then joined JustJerk, and that's when she began to flourish as a choreographer as SM reached out to her.
You, on the other hand, had begun as a freelance dancer in Korea while making several videos of your own choreography and uploading them on YouTube. As you gained massive popularity, you were getting projects from friends in the States, which caused you to go back and forth from Korea.
You and Bada spent less time together, but you two tried your hardest to hang out and chat occasionally. That was until you started making it big in the States and had offers coming your way left and right. So, you made the most difficult decision to move to the US to focus on your career.
As you worked in the West and Bada worked in the East, your connection began to fizzle until it was no longer a thing. No one was to blame. Your careers were now your priorities, which was understandable.
While Bada gained popularity for her Kpop choreography, she did many lessons and projects and learned from some big-name dancers. Then, 2018 came around, and Kpop grew a massive fan base in the States. You also began to get offers for projects in Korea, mainly from HYBE Entertainment or Bighit, at the time. That's when it hit you: You made it big into the dance scene.
The more projects you did, the more opportunities came. An example of one of your most outstanding achievements was signing with Jam Republic and working with some of the biggest stars, BTS, and the trendy New Jeans. You were on a role, to say the least.
You were working with several Jam Republic artists and got an offer. It was to join the team for their representation on Street Woman Fighter. So, after staying in the States for about 5 years, you decided to move back to Korea so you could comfortably work on Street Woman Fighter with your girls.
You had the liberty of picking them up and hanging out with them 3 weeks before the show's filming. The crew ate dinner together, drank some alcohol from time to time, and even taught dances while they stayed.
The day finally came when they filmed the first part of the episode, where Mnet introduced every team and their members. You got excited seeing big names and saw the most familiar one, Bada. "Oh, she's on the show too?"
"You know Bada?" Audrey asks you innocently, and you smile at the thought. "Of course I do, she's my best friend."
The girls looked at you with wide eyes, and you giggled, "What? After I went to the States, we barely talked, so it never came up." As you continued, all of you had to pick the worst dancers and talk more about the dance styles of each crew.
You chose someone you felt could challenge you out of respect for the dancer's skills.
Tumblr media
The other teams had to do the same thing as Jam Republic, and as soon as Kristen popped up on their screen, almost no one could believe it.
"No way!"
"She's on the show?"
"For real?"
As they continued to introduce JR, you were the last member revealed. Everyone gasps in shock, seeing your face and resume in dance.
"A Korean on their team?"
"She's worked with HYBE? Now that's how you know she's good."
"Run BTS? She did that one? It was a sick choreography."
"Wait she looks kinda familiar."
"She kinda looks like Bada-nim."
When it was Bebe's turn to react, Bada went extremely pale but did well in hiding it. She had kept up with some of your videos and releases during your time away, being happy for you, but she didn't realize that this show was the reason for you to see each other again.
That's when the two of you were starting to become nervous about the next shoots to come.
It was time for all the crews to meet, and as you guys entered your hideout, you were met with a bright pink room.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
When it was Jam Republic's turn to enter the fight zone, everyone was surprised by the scale of the show. Coming down the stairs, you found the other dancers staring either in awe or trying to intimidate you guys, which wasn't gonna work.
You were the last down, and everyone couldn't help but notice your height, plus yours and Audrey's beauty. Many girls describe Audrey as looking like a doll or a baby, while people believe you have a "cat" attractiveness.
Your height was another factor. You stood tall at 5'10 and noticeably towered over your members. Bada couldn't help but keep eye contact with your figure, which worked in her favor since that's what she was known for.
She took in your presence after 5 years and felt as if all the air was sucked out of her body.
While Bada stared, her members began to notice something. Lusher nudges her, "Unnie... do you two know each other?" Bada looks confusingly at her.
"Where did you get that?"
"You two have matching tattoos," Tatter butts in, whispering. Bada's eyes widen a little, then scan your tattoo. She forgot that they were matching couple-looking tattoos. "We were really close till she left for the States."
The two girls move back, stunned at the new information. "How close were you two?"
"We were best friends for 24 years of our lives."
"HUHHHHHH?" They announced a little too loudly that Bada had to shush them. You focused on the video and concluded that Audrey had the most votes as the worst dancer, making you scoff.
"They definitely don't know who they picked," Your arm rested on Audrey's shoulders as you whispered to her. Bada sees this, and her hands begin to squeeze into a fist.
Well, now she knew that those feelings were still there, to say the least.
Tumblr media
Many battles went on and soon, it was your turn to head up. "Next opponent is Kim Y/n!" Kang Daniel announced and you decided to walk around the fight zone. You slow down near Bebe and give Bada a teasing stare down before walking walking away with a smirk that she gladly returns.
"Tsubakill, Yumeri-san, please come out."
Everyone cheers, and as the stage gets rowdy, you hold the mic in your hands.
"Y/n, why did you pick Yumeri as the worst dancer?"
"I honestly didn't think she was bad at all. It's quite the opposite." You turned to her. "Yumeri-san, I know you can give me a good challenge, so let's see how good we are as dancers," You bowed to her, and everyone was surprised at your statement AND that you spoke in Japanese.
Yumeri smiles before saying, "It's an honor to dance with you."
As the music began, Yumeri went first and showed off fierce movements which you couldn't help but hype up.
"She's really humble, huh?" Tatter questions Bada, and she nods. You always respected people no matter what. Bada knew exactly why you chose Yumeri.
Yumeri is a hip-hop-based dancer who knew her body, which results in powerful movements. Bada knew you picked the woman to show off an entertaining battle, not a one-sided one. When the music switched, you grooved a little until the base dropped and you pulled out some krumping and locking.
Everyone is shocked, as none of the dancers necessarily excelled in that area of dance, well, other than you. You then contorted your body and twisted as you lay on the floor, and everyone went wild.
In the corner, Bada's jaw dropped. Sure, she kept up with your videos, but she never imagined that this was how good you got over the years.
Once your battle ended, it was time for the judges to vote. All of them pulled out the Jam Republic card, and you bowed. Monika picks up her mic with much evident excitement.
"KIM Y/N! Whaaaaaaa~ You truly are a different talent. This battle was one of the best ones I've seen by far. We have many gifted dancers here, but you showed us something unique today." You and Yumeri bowed at the high remark and hugged each other to conclude your battle.
After a few matches, it was time to have a break. You had to use the bathroom and decided to freshen up there and as you were about to return to the fight zone, you see a familiar face heading out her hideout.
"Well isn't it the famous Bada lee."
She turns her neck fast due to the shock and sighs once she sees you. You hug her while rocking side to side.
"Don't you feel some deja vu?" You joked, and she smacked your arm lightly. "I missed you," Bada confesses as she holds your hand.
"I missed you too," you stared at her with caring eyes. As she looked at you, she began to tear up, and before a tear fell, you wiped it away with your thumb. "I regret not keeping in touch."
"I also didn't put in the most effort Bada, you aren't the only one to blame."
"God," Bada whines and you smile. "How about after this we hang out? If you give me my number I'll text you my address?"
"I'd be honored 'Mother of HYBE,' she teased. You chuckled and exchanged phone numbers, immediately texting her your address.
Tumblr media
When all the groups were about to leave, you peep Bebe, getting ready to go. "Hold up a minute. I'll meet you guys at the van."
You begin to hear "ooooohhhhhh~~~" as they see you making your way over to Bada and you roll your eyes. "Bada-nim!"
Bebe looks over and begins giggling at your interaction like cute school girls watching a drama. "I'll see you later?"
"Yeah, of course," you give another hug that caresses her waist and wave off. Bada then gets teased by her younger members.
"Yahhhhhh~ did you see her hand movement."
"Unnie! You're literally the best. Find me a woman like that too."
"Whaaaaa~ that's our leader."
"Dude, I don't know if I wanna be her or be you."
Bada's face turns bright red and her members burst in laughter once again.
Once you made it home, you decided to shower and prepare a bit. You decided to wear some checkered pajamas and a cropped tank, then began to cook some food.
As you weren't really expecting a guest so early on, your fridge didn't have too much food due to your busy schedule, but you were able to make some shrimp alfredo pasta and took out some soju bottles you had from the JR girls.
You finished up, heard the doorbell ring, and saw Bada wearing a matching set consisting of a cropped sweater vest, a crop top underneath, a navy blue tennis skirt, and some black timberlands.
"Wow~ you look good. Now I feel underdressed," you joke but realize she was wearing the hat and bracelet you gifted her in high school. You let her enter and point it out.
"You still have these?" You asked as you lightly flicked it down then grabbed her wrist, and all she could do was smile. "I cherish them too much to throw it out."
"Don't you still have yours?"
"Yeah but I rarely wear it nowadays."
"Why?" Bada was hurt, but she pouts when you say, "I didn't wanna lose it when I moved to the States, so I kept it in the box. It's in my room right now. Hold up." After a few minutes, you go into your room and come out with the bracelet on your wrist, "See?"
Bada's move was instantly uplifted again, but her attention shifted to food because she was hungry for so long.
"Holy shit, did you make this?" She asks, settling down at your dining table. She takes off the jacket and hat, showing off her two-toned hair. "Of course, try it first before you compliment me too much."
She digs in and moans at the taste. "Good?"
"Good? This is amazing."
You two talked ate and chatted a bit about work, but after a while, you guys moved to the couch and started drinking.
"I can't help but ask, how's your love life?"
"I did some dating here and there in the States, but they never got too serious," you say as you take a shot. "What about you? No one special in your life?"
"My special person left me for the States," Bada joked with a pout, and you giggled. "In all seriousness though, I dated a bit, and my last one was a bit serious, but we didn't work out. She got a bit crazy on me nearing the end."
"Damn crazy?"
...
"Wait, did you say she?" You looked at her in dismay. "Yeah, I may have figured out I liked both guys and girls while you were gone."
"Well, definitely earlier than that, but we don't talk about it," Bada added.
"No, no, we are going to talk about it. Who was the special person that made you realize?"
Bada bit her lip and thought if she should tell you. Impulsively she thinks, 'it's now or never.'
"It was you."
You sat there with a shot of soju in hand and stared at Bada as a wave of emotions flooded you.
"Since when?" That was all you can say.
"Since high school," She mumbles, but you hear her loud and clear. Well, your first thought, you smack her arm, and she gives you an offended look. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I was scared okay? We were friends for so long, and I didn't want to lose you. As long as you were happy, I was happy, and that was enough for me."
Your gazed softened, "Bada, you idiot."
"I liked you too."
Those were the words she never thought she would hear, and she felt a heaviness lift off her chest. "You think I would just suggest kissing you for shits and giggles?"
Now Bada wanted to punch herself in the face, "but you were dating other people?"
"Bada, I did that to push aside my feelings because everyone thought you were straight, and you never ever told me about crushing on a girl."
She thinks back and realizes you were right. She only ever talked about the guys she was crushing on. "Now I feel stupid. I've liked you for so long, and seeing you dating other people hurt my heart. When I saw you kissing other girls, I wanted to cry sometimes. Then I saw you again and realized that I still love you, and your relationship with Audrey often made me jealous. And-"
Before she could rant even more, you pulled her into a kiss to shut her up. Her shocked face turned soft, and she kissed you back.
To her, it felt the same as the first time you kissed her, but to you, it felt like the thing you've been missing for so long.
You wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her onto your lap, wanting to feel her warmth and touch.
She felt the kiss's intensity and couldn't help but grind on your lap. Out of breath, you two pulled away, breathing heavily. "I love you too dummy."
Bada's face grins widely, and she leans her head back as your arm balances her from falling. She goes all shy and hides her face into your neck as you lightly run your fingers up and down her waist, giving her the chills.
"You don't understand how long I've waited for that."
"Well, no need to wait anymore," You pull her into another kiss, which turns into a heated make-out session. Her fingers tangled into your hair as your tongues played around. Your kisses move to her neck, and you chuckle, "Be ready for a long night. I have a couple years to make up for."
Tumblr media
A/n: Fun fact guys, this was the first Bada fic out of all the ones if written so far, i just pushed back posting it for so long😭
1K notes · View notes
lura-valentine · 19 days ago
Text
Choose Your Own Adventure!
MHA / BNHA Writing event
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Part 2: The cool place
Tumblr media
This will be an interactive writing event where you decide what happens next!
How does it work❓️
🐵 Character choice - completed 📖 First part of the story Post - concluded 🗳️ At the end of the story there is a survey on how it should continue 🌐 The majority decides what happens next 🔄 The cycle repeats itself until the story ends
Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who liked ❤️ and shared 🔄 the latest part.
There were a surprising number of votes and I really didn't expect such a high turnout. I hope you enjoy this project as much as I do and participate diligently, because the event lives from your votes‼️
To make things more interesting, feel free to give me some suggestions as to what else could happen.
If the suggestions are good, they will be included in the next survey! You can do this anonymously or simply write in the comments😊
Tumblr media
Vote 1 Part 1 Part 2
#lura mha/bnha CYOA_1
–> To Kaji's Profile #kaji black character profil
Tumblr media
Dabi pushed open the door, stepped inside, and stopped. His gaze slowly wandered around the living room as he ran a hand through his hair. Manga volumes lay scattered on the floor, some open as if someone had simply dropped them carelessly. DVDs were stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, some open, their cases buried somewhere in between. And then there was the collection of empty energy drink cans – a veritable fortress of caffeine and sugar, piled up around the controller in front of the screen.
In the midst of this chaos, Kaji sat, completely relaxed, with one foot propped up on the coffee table, a headset in his ears, his fingers flickering over the controller. The giant screen flickered with explosive images of a game that was way too loud, but Kaji didn't seem to mind.
Dabi leaned against the doorframe and took a deep breath. Not out of anger, not out of frustration – but because he was damn proud.
"Shit," he muttered with a crooked grin. "That's a work of art."
Kaji, who only now noticed him, turned his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you're back? I thought you'd stay out all night."
"I might have, if I'd known I'd be coming back to a post-apocalyptic battlefield." Dabi entered the living room, knocking aside an empty can, which rolled into the corner with a quiet clatter. "Should I laugh or slap you for that?"
Kaji lowered the controller, stretched, and yawned pointedly. "Stop pretending you're not celebrating. We both know you're feeling the same way."
Dabi raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, kid, you're right." He slumped onto the sofa, casually pushing a manga page aside with his elbow, and grabbed one of the half-full cans. He took a sip, then grimaced in disgust. "What the hell are you drinking? Tastes like battery acid."
"Caffeine. Sugar. The only energy source I need." Kaji grinned, put his feet back up, and grabbed his controller.
Dabi studied him for a moment, then leaned back, a cigarette between his lips. "Rain would kill us both if she saw this."
Kaji laughed. "Then we have a week to fix this. So relax."
Dabi let the smoke drift out slowly as he surveyed the chaotic scene. It was a damn disaster – but a catastrophe that reminds him suspiciously of himself.
"Well," he finally muttered. "You fucking have more of me than I'd like sometimes."
Kaji shrugged without looking up from his game. "Well then, Dad... make yourself comfortable. I'll give you the second controller if you want to get beat up."
Dabi's gaze fell on the controller, but instead of reaching for it, he just leaned back against the couch and snorted. "As much as I'd like to convince you otherwise, kid, I have another plan."
Kaji raised a skeptical eyebrow, pressed a button, and paused the game. "Oh?"
Dabi twirled the cigarette between his fingers, his gaze casually wandering through the chaos that had accumulated here in just one day. "I need your help with something."
Kaji laughed softly, took another sip of his energy drink. "Then it's going to be difficult, because I definitely don't feel like it."
Dabi grinned crookedly. "Oh, just wait a minute. I'm planning to show you a really cool place."
Now it was Kaji who really burst out laughing. Loud and dry. "Cool? Dad... I doubt you can even define cool."
Dabi quirked his mouth mockingly. "So you're really going to pick a fight with me about style? Kid, I was cool before you were even born."
"That was at least a hundred years ago."
"Shut up and move your ass. I swear, you won't regret it."
Kaji tilted his head back and studied his father through half-closed eyes. He knew that look – it was the same one Touya always wore when he was planning something that was either incredibly dangerous or incredibly crazy. It was probably both this time.
"Fine," Kaji finally sighed, throwing his controller onto the couch. "But if this turns out to be a complete failure, I swear I'll be teasing you about it all night."
Dabi stood up, stretched pointedly, and shrugged with a grin. "Well. I've survived worse."
Kaji's mouth twisted slightly, then finally stood up and stretched, his black wings fanning out wide before folding them loosely again. Then he casually picked up the controller and turned off the console and TV.
"If this isn't worth it," he muttered, turning to Dabi, "I'll turn the apartment into a damn winter wonderland."
Dabi laughed softly, straightened his coat, and looked at his son with a mocking glint in his eyes. "You don't have to. You do it every time you dream in your sleep anyway."
Kaji just growled softly as he pulled on his jacket and followed Dabi outside.
The streets were bathed in an unsteady glow from the city lights, billboards flickered on the walls, and people bustled around. Dabi walked with his usual casual stride, his hands in his pockets, while Kaji walked beside him with a critical eye.
They crossed several residential areas, passing narrow alleys and wider main roads, while Kaji became increasingly skeptical. "Tell me, where exactly are you dragging me? This isn't exactly the route to a cool place, if you ask me."
Dabi just grinned mysteriously. "Patience, kid."
Finally, they stopped – in front of an old, run-down underground parking garage.
Kaji blinked. Then he frowned. "Seriously? An underground parking garage? This is your big, cool place?"
Dabi pushed the door open with a gentle push and stepped into the dim entrance. "Wait and see. Sometimes the most interesting thing isn't what you see immediately, but what's underneath."
Kaji snorted, but his interest was piqued. Without another word, he followed his father into the darkness of the underground car park.
As the door closed behind them, absolute darkness enveloped them. The contrast to the neon-lit city outside was so abrupt that for a moment, Kaji saw nothing but blackness. Then a blue flicker hissed through the darkness – Dabi had lit a flame in his hand, making his features dance sharply in the light. The long, narrow corridor before them was bathed in a bluish glow, the shadows on the walls trembling in the restless glow.
"Damn," Kaji muttered, scanning his surroundings. "It's a bit like a bad horror movie."
Dabi grinned crookedly. "If you want, I can give you the role of the first victim."
Kaji snorted in amusement but said nothing as they descended the stairs. The stairs seemed endless, each step echoing dully off the cold walls, accompanied by the faint crackle of Dabi's hot flames.
But then, Kaji heard something. At first, it was barely perceptible, a deep, vibrating sound that echoed through the floor. Kaji pricked up his ears. It was a dull rumble that grew louder with every step they took. There was a strange rhythm to it – not just noise, but... cheers?
He frowned. "What the hell...?"
The closer they got, the clearer it became. Voices, loud and euphoric, interspersed with shouts that echoed in the walls. It was a crowd, and they were celebrating something.
Dabi stopped just a few steps from the stairs and turned to Kaji with a crooked smile.
"So, kid... ready? I told you I'm going to need your help right now."
Kaji raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Help with what?"
Dabi didn't answer. Instead, he pushed open the heavy metal door in front of them.
A bright light exploded into the room, blinding Kaji so much that he automatically threw a hand over his face. At the same time, a wave of pure noise hit him – the roar of a cheering crowd, mixed with screams and cheers, so intense that it momentarily overwhelmed his senses.
As he slowly lowered his hand and opened his eyes again, he saw it.
A huge, makeshift arena stretched out before them, surrounded by stands where people stood tightly packed. The floor was brittle concrete, enclosed by a tall steel cage covered in scratches and dents. In the center, two men fought, their Quirks in close combat and their clothes tattered, while the crowd celebrated each hit with an ecstatic roar.
Dabi stepped forward and spread his arms, grinning. "So, kid? Still sure I don't know what cool is?"
It took Kaji a moment to process all this. "This..." He exhaled slowly. "This is a damn underground fighting arena."
"Right on target." Dabi shoved his hands in his pockets and scanned the fighters. "So-called underground fights take place here. Usually organized by Overhaul or a few other guys with too much money."
Kaji crossed his arms. "And why do the heroes allow this?"
Dabi shrugged. "Well, officially, such places are illegal, but in reality..." He grinned crookedly. "Let's just say the heroes and the cops tolerate them. Because they keep us villains happy and supposedly prevent us from doing even bigger shit outside."
Kaji scanned the crowd. There weren't just villains here – he recognized some shady businessmen, a few inconspicuously dressed people who looked like rich clients.
"So?" Dabi pushed past him, looking over his shoulder. "Are you impressed now, or do I need to show you something better?"
Kaji clicked his tongue and let his gaze wander over the roaring crowd. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed in mock annoyance. "Okay, I admit it. This is... not bad."
Dabi laughed softly. "Not bad? Kid, this is real life. No heroics, no rules, no stupid uniforms. Just strength against strength."
Kaji turned his head toward him. "That's all well and good, but what exactly do you need my help for?"
Dabi stretched, relaxed, as if he'd just been waiting for that question to come. "Well, you know, the League's keeping its feet still right now. No major chaos, no missions – AFO wants us to keep a low profile." He grimaced briefly, as if he didn't particularly like the idea. "But staying still isn't my thing. I need to stay in shape. And that's why your mom and I regularly fight in team battles here."
Kaji raised an eyebrow. "Team battles?"
"Two on two." Dabi scanned the arena. "The rules are simple: Fight until one of you can't fight anymore or gives up. Rain and I have already won quite a bit of prize money."
Kaji snorted. "Prize money? I thought she was already filthy rich."
Dabi shrugged. "Well, you can never have enough money. And let's be honest, for us, this is less about the money than about having fun."
"I see." Kaji eyed him skeptically. "So where exactly do I come into play?"
Dabi's grin widened. "Rain's gone. Normally I'd fight alongside Shigaraki, but AFO's keeping him on a short leash right now. That means I need a replacement."
Kaji blinked. Then he shook his head in disbelief. "Wait. You want me to get in the ring with you?"
"Exactly."
For a moment, Kaji said nothing. Then he laughed quietly and shook his head again. "Dude... you're really stupid."
Dabi just grinned. "Come on, kid. I know you want to. And if you're being honest – you want to see if you can keep up with me, don't you?"
Kaji twisted his mouth, his pride flashing in his eyes, sharp as the edge of a sword that's been sheathed for too long. "Tch. If I step into the ring, it won't be to be your damn sidekick."
Dabi laughed, deep and throaty, as if he'd been waiting for this exact reaction. "Then prove it to me." His eyes sparkled in the glow of the arena lights, as if there was something in there that reignited not only his muscles but also his fire.
Kaji stood there as if he were glowing. The wings on his back twitched, flexed, a few of the feathers fluttering like glittering shards of frost as he trembled with energy. "Come on, old man. Show me where I sign."
Dabi just grinned broadly and gestured for him to follow. The two moved through the milling crowd of fighters, onlookers, and dealers conducting their own business in the half-shadows until they stopped in front of a table that looked as if it had been hammered together from old metal sheets. Behind it sat two men who looked like walking gas grenades – broad shoulders, heavy jackets, and both wearing gas masks whose lenses gleamed dully in the neon lighting.
"Two on two. Straight in," Dabi growled as he leaned forward, flashing the flame in his hand briefly, just as a calling card – a reminder of who they were dealing with.
The guys exchanged a brief glance, then one of them wordlessly handed over a clipboard. Kaji scribbled his name on it, his gaze sweeping over the remaining fighters, who were chatting, testing their Quirks, or warming up.
It only took a few seconds for Dabi's presence to be noticed. Some of the men who were just tightening their bandages or putting grilles on their teeth suddenly turned pale. Two even started to quietly retreat from the line, but then their gaze fell on Kaji, who was now standing next to Dabi like a shadow slowly taking shape.
"Shit... Dabi's here."
"Do you want to unsubscribe?" a skinny guy whispered to his partner, neither of whom was clearly built for a real fight.
"Wait... Rain's not with him. Neither is Shigaraki."
"Who's the other one?"
"I don't know... looks young. Maybe a newbie."
"If he's just some rookie, we might have a chance..."
Dabi heard every word. A barely perceptible smirk twitched across his lips as he turned away from the registration desk. "Can you hear that, Kaji?" he murmured as they moved toward the benches. "The wolves are already sniffing around, thinking I have a lamb on my side."
Kaji gritted his teeth. "Then let me bite them first."
Dabi laughed softly, proudly, without having to say it. "You may. But you'll fight with me. And you'll stick to my rhythm. If you step out of line, you'll burn your wings."
"And if you get too hot, I'll cool your ass," Kaji growled back.
A quick look – hard against hard, heat against cold, pride against pride – then a nod. They understood each other.
A man approached them, a loudspeaker around his neck, distorting his voice. "You're match six. Two against two. You have ten minutes, then it's time to get in the ring."
Dabi put his arm loosely around Kaji's shoulders, as if he wanted to whisper something to him. "Ten minutes, huh? Plenty of time to warm up."
Kaji's eyes glowed in the reflection of the arena lights. "I'll freeze them before they even see where the blow came from."
Dabi grinned. "That's my son."
Tumblr media
The entertainer stepped into the cone of light as Dabi and Kaji slowly made their way through the vibrating darkness toward the arena, a heartbeat of light and shadow, punctuated by the dull rumble of the music that danced in their ribs like an alien pulse, impetuous and urgent. Every step echoed heavily on the concrete floor, as if their soles wanted to warn the stage.
The crowd roared, a chaotic sea of ​​shouts, stomping, and wild whistling, but the entertainer, all in black with a glittering tie, raised his hand imperiously. The microphone pressed to his lips, his grin cutting across his face like a razor blade, his voice coaxing, sweet as poisoned honey.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between – tonight we welcome a new duo to our arena... on the one hand, an old acquaintance. The burning madness with a pure desire for destruction – Daaabi!"
A torrent of howls, stomping, and burning ecstasy shot through the arena as if someone had lit the fuse of a powder keg. The name was as familiar as a threat, his presence a myth that burned beneath the skin.
"And by his side – well, let's just call him Blue, the Rookie!"
A murmur ran through the crowd, a mixture of mockery and curiosity. Kaji twisted his mouth as if he'd been spat in the face. "Blue, the Rookie? Seriously?"
Dabi laughed softly, his shoulders shrugging beneath his leather. "Well, you're completely unknown, not a file, not even a footnote in the villain world. Of course they call you Rookie."
"That's changing now," Kaji growled, the crackle of his ice flame suppressed but palpable in the air, like the first tremors before a blizzard.
A mischievous smile crossed the entertainer's face, but he remained silent, instead turning dramatically to the other side of the arena. The gate there opened with a metallic groan, as if the underground itself were sighing.
"And their opponents: Two of the toughest dogs from the underground! Atlas and Crank – pure brawn, no brains, but enough force to tear down a house!"
The men who stepped out of the gate looked like nightmares come to life. Atlas, broad-shouldered, metal plates on his chest and arms, rigid as a fortress. Crank, smaller, wirier, but wrapped in chains that rattled with every movement as if they were alive. Their gazes were aggressive, their movements snarling, but in their eyes, a brief twitch of uncertainty flashed – not because of Dabi. But because of the stranger at his side.
"You both are due!" Crank yelled, the chains creaking as he tightened them.
The gong ripped through the air.
And suddenly, there was only movement.
Kaji and Dabi moved like mirror images – a fluid, perfect choreography of instinctive unison. Their flames ignited simultaneously, Dabi's fist flared up, a seething blue that seared the air even before he struck, while Kaji's ice flames sliced ​​sharply and coolly into the air like a blizzard freezing flesh.
Their fists struck their targets in sync, a double impact like a thunderclap that rippled through bone and marrow. Their opponents had no chance. Crank was caught by Dabi's fist, a scream, a twitching flash, and his body was thrown against the cage wall like a wet sack. At the same time, Atlas flew, trembling from Kaji's icy flame, against the bars and lay gasping, steaming, unconscious.
And then, there was absolute silence. The audience, frozen in motion, as if someone had stopped time. Then the microphone clicked, a feedback screeched.
The entertainer stepped forward again, his smile now wider, almost enjoyable. "...oh, how embarrassing of me. I almost forgot to mention something important..."
He held out his arms theatrically. "This is our very special father-son duo! A fiery devil and his frosty heir! Bow down to... Dabi and his son Blue!"
The crowd exploded.
Cheers, screams, whistles, cardboard mugs flew into the air and someone fired a flare at the ceiling. There was whispering, bets, some were already calling for a rematch, for more – more heat, more power, more of that look between father and son that danced between respect, challenge, and a touch of madness.
Dabi stood there calmly, letting the flames lick their way out on his arms, while Kaji still stood slightly bent over, his wings half-spread, his shoulders shaking with the euphoria of victory, and yet there was no pride in his eyes, but hunger – not for blood, but for meaning.
"Okay..." he muttered, almost to himself, and glanced sideways at Dabi. "I admit... this is fucking fun."
Dabi stepped closer, placing his hand on his shoulder, heavy, warm, and honest.
"I told you," he grumbled as they retraced their steps down the corridor, away from the light, into the dim heart of the underground.
"So?" Kaji asked quietly as they headed toward the preparation room. "Was it enough to step out of your shadow?"
Dabi casually lit a small flame and let it dance across his fingertip. "You didn't step out of my shadow," he said without looking at him. "You made your own. And that's fucking frosty."
Kaji laughed softly, a ragged, almost surprised-honest sound. "Maybe it's time they got to know me."
Dabi looked at him, really at him. Something rare flashed in his eyes for a moment – pride, yes, but also worry. A hint of fear. And something dark, quietly scratching at the door of his consciousness.
"Yeah... I guess it is."
But as soon as they entered the room, Dabi felt it. A tug in his stomach. Not painful, not exactly– more like a premonition. A shadow slowly spreading across his insides, like a wing of black smoke.
He knew there were men out there, as well as organizations… eyes waiting in the darkness. People like Overhaul, and others like them, unspoken of, who were interested in powerful sons. Very… interested.
Tumblr media
The following battles felt like a rush of adrenaline. Time passed more slowly, flames hissed, and the air reeked of scorched metal. Those brave enough to even face them were brought to their knees within seconds.
Some tried tactics, ducking, retreating, but Kaji's eyes flashed like cold steel, his silhouette vanishing in a sudden storm of frozen embers. Those who tried to dive to the side to avoid the direct blow were mercilessly met with a fiery kick. His legs a swirl of icy fire that hurled bodies across the arena like toys. His every move was a dancing slash of ice and cold, no mercy in his kicks, only the precision of a fighter finally allowed to prove himself.
Dabi, on the other hand, was the storm. He moved with a nonchalance more dangerous than any scream. Its flames did not blaze in wild fountains, they crawled, they licked, they waited. When he struck, it was an act of determination, as if saying with every movement: You are not worthy of feeling my full fury.
Two teams had already given up before the bell sounded. They had heard the names, seen the flames, the glow of the wings, and realized this fight wasn't meant for them. Some cursed, others bowed their heads silently as they retreated, the bitter taste of fear and shame on their tongues.
And so, father and son moved through the arena like forces of nature, leaving nothing but charred shadows and frozen silhouettes in their wake, until only the finale remained.
And then, they stood before him...
Dabi recognized him before the light fully hit him. The broad shoulders, the grotesquely proliferating muscles, as if tendons and skin had been stretched too tightly over his body. The manic grin that knew no joy, only hunger — Muscular.
He stood there like a monument of flesh, covered in a grotesque armor of his own tissue that pulsed with every movement. At his side was a man, gaunt, with thinning hair and sunken cheeks, little more than a shadow. Apparently, Muscular had simply dragged him along. The guy wasn't a partner, merely a means to compete.
"Dabi..." Muscular roared with a grin too crooked even for death. "Missed you, dude. The scars from back then still itch."
Dabi took a step forward, his eyes narrowed, his flames still hidden, but the air already vibrating. "I thought you'd rot long ago."
Muscular laughed, a dry, vicious bark that echoed through the arena. "You took my Arena title back then. Today I'm taking it back. And that one…" his gaze fell on Kaji, slowly and curiously, "I'll take him down right away."
Kaji didn't answer. But the beat of his wings was answer enough. A soft, sharp hiss as the ice crystals formed on the ground, his flames flickering restlessly, like a waking demon.
Dabi gritted his teeth. "You're not touching him. Not a single hair."
Muscular grinned even wider, took a step forward, the floor splintering beneath his feet. "Then show me what the father-son miracle is really about!"
The gong fell like an axe through the silence.
Muscular's body tensed like a rope about to break, his veins bulging beneath his skin, his muscles pulsing, grotesquely exaggerated like the caricature of a god who knew nothing but violence. With a deep, rumbling roar, he charged forward. No tactics, no hesitation, just pure force. The ground shook beneath his steps, dust swirled, and each of his thunderous kicks sounded like a sledgehammer on concrete.
Kaji barely had time to his breath. His pupils narrowed, his body tensed instinctively, but he didn't retreat. He raised his arms, and at the same moment, a flame blazed from within him. It crept over his shoulders, spreading out like a living cloak of light, shimmering between blue and white, flickering like flaming frost.
With a single, powerful movement, he threw his arms forward – the flames shot out in a fan-like arc, and in their center, a wall rapidly formed. Rising and icy cold, but barely had it reached its full height when it began to change.
A crackling sound ran through the fire, the light faded, the blue brightened. It crystallized until only a shimmering, translucent wall of ice remained, veined with fine, luminous lines. It was no ordinary ice, but the kind only Kaji could create – flames frozen in mid-motion.
Muscular slammed into it with unchecked force. A dull thud, a disgusting crunch, and then the wall shattered with a single sound passing through Mark. Shards of ice flew through the air like missiles, slicing into skin and dust. Kaji threw himself to the side – not gracefully, but quickly, instinctively, his body rolling along the ground, wings tucked in, ready for the next leap.
But Muscular was faster, faster than his massive frame would suggest – he whirled around like a force of nature that knew no time, a colossus programmed only for destruction. The fist rushed in, accompanied by a throaty laugh that sounded like rusted iron.
A scream – not from Kaji, but from the air itself – for suddenly there was heat.
A blinding light cut through the gloom of the arena, and a flaming fist, deep blue and angry like the suppressed embers of decades of hatred, struck Muscular full force in the side. It wasn't a direct hit – Dabi wasn't aiming for his body, but for his momentum, his direction. The flames enveloped him like an electric shock, throwing him to the side and making him stagger.
"You're fighting both of us, you ogre," Dabi growled, his voice hoarse, his eyes burning like two narrow rips in the darkness. The flames on his arms licked hungrily, ready for more.
Kaji was back on his feet, his gaze a single, focused cut. Adrenaline pumped hotly through his veins, and somewhere between anger, respect, and a hint of satisfaction, a smile twitched on his lips.
"Nice save, dad."
Dabi huffed. "You can thank my later. Now we'll burn him away."
Muscular spat on the ground, a smacking sound followed by a ragged laugh that echoed in his massive chest like the rumble of a volcano before it erupts.
"What's wrong, Dabi?" he sneered. "You used to give a damn if your buddy got hit by a bus." His eyes flashed, adrenaline pulsing through his oversized body, every tendon straining, ready for the next explosion. "And now? Now you're jumping around this kid like a guard dog. What happened to you, huh?"
Dabi was silent for a moment, his chin slightly lowered, his eyes fixed on Muscular. The words struck a chord within him, but not in the way Muscular had hoped. No anger, no sting of guilt. Only this faint, burning glow, blazing in the depths of his iris like the remnants of an old fire that had never quite gone out.
"It was never completely meaningless to me," he murmured finally, backing away slowly, his step deliberate, gliding like smoke, until he stood behind Kaji. "I just couldn't afford it. Not then, not at Shigaraki's side. Not with Rain storming through the front lines with flaming feathers. We couldn't afford to be soft. Not with the whole world trying to crush us."
He paused for a breath. "But this... this is different. This isn't about missions. This isn't about contracts or a damned rebellion. This is about my son."
Muscular grimaced, the smile falling, giving way to dull confusion, a palpable incomprehension. "Son? Tch."
He didn't need any more words. His legs tensed, the ground cracked beneath his weight, and with a primal scream, he charged straight at Dabi. His fists clenched, his body like a living battering ram.
Dabi didn't move. Not a flinch, not a retreat. Only two small words came from his lips.
"Now, Kaji."
The air changed in a single heartbeat. Kaji raised his arms, his eyes blazing like the northern lights in the night, and his wings spread like those of a demon finally freed from its cage.
Flames erupted from him – not as before, not cautious or tamed, but wild, with a primal force that was barely controllable. They shot in all directions, punched the air, licked hungrily at anything that moved, like a pack of predators finally unleashed.
The cold exploded. The arena was engulfed in a blinding blue inferno that engulfed every corner – the bars, the concrete, part of the stands. It was as if someone had brought the sun down to the ground and chained it.
And then – the break.
The flames changed. Their edges froze. The colors shifted from blazing blue to an almost painfully bright white. In a split second, everything froze – as if frozen in another reality. The arena became silent, a single, rigid cage of frozen fire.
Muscular's body was trapped inside, frozen in motion, his partner barely recognizable as such. A distorted shadow behind the frozen wall. Only Muscular's head remained exposed, panting, steaming, his face contorted with exertion, his muscles twitching, fighting to resist freezing.
"I'll get you... I..."
Dabi stepped forward, calmly, his hands in his pockets, his face cool as ash after the fire.
"You'd better not do that," he said quietly, but his tone cut like a knife. "Or have you forgotten what happens to cold muscles when you strain them too much?"
Muscular's eyes widened as the truth dawned on him – the trembling, the tingling, the beginnings of pain deep in the tendons.
Dabi grinned crookedly with satisfaction. "They tear."
The gong echoed through the arena like the dull beat of a massive heart – a metallic echo that was lost in the icy silence, bringing the world to a surreal standstill.
Not the usual roaring yelling, not deafening cheers. Just a breathless silence that settled over the stands like fog. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on the huge block that took up three-quarters of the arena.
Kaji stood in the middle of this ghostly still life, his shoulders still slightly raised, his breath smoking in the cold air left behind by his own flames. Dabi stood beside him, his hands in his pockets, as if refusing to let the force of the moment get to him too much – but there was a gleam in his eyes that was rarely seen there.
Then, as if someone had suddenly turned up the volume on the world, the crowd exploded.
Shouts, screams, and applause erupted like an avalanche, raging from the stands like a storm of pure enthusiasm. Names were shouted, feet drummed to the beat, and in the midst of it all, they -father and son- stood the undisputed victors.
Dabi took one last look at the block of ice, a mocking twitch in the corner of his mouth, then turned slightly to the side, scrutinizing Kaji with a look that said more than words ever could.
"Not bad, kid," he murmured, and it sounded almost too casual to be real. "For your age... pretty impressive."
Kaji snorted, running his hand through his slightly sweaty hair, his feathers still had a slight glow in them.
"If I weren't impressive, it would be embarrassing. After all, you trained me." He grinned broadly and glanced briefly at the crowd, which was still roaring like a disturbed swarm of bees. "You know what? I'd love to do that again. There's something about arena fights... something so raw and honest. No ambushes, no politics. Just you, your opponent, and your fire."
Dabi raised an eyebrow, the flickering flames long since extinguished, but his expression remained serious.
"Enjoy the moment, Kaji. Because that was the last time for a long, long time."
Kaji blinked, surprised. "What? Why?"
Dabi grimaced slightly, lowering his voice, as if he didn't want to say the words out loud.
"If your mother finds out you've already been to the arena, now, without prior agreement, without her..."
He paused, took a deep breath, as if the very idea caused pain.
"She'll bury us both alive. Grounded forever."
Kaji laughed softly, half nervous, half incredulous. "You're exaggerating."
Dabi looked at him. "I was ten minutes late for training once. She banned me from using fire for a month."
Kaji trailed off. "...Oh."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
My moral supporters
@tiny-roki-todoroki | @alexandhisstuff | @doumadono | @unhinged-bratty-boy | @within-eyesight
@indignant-alpaca @vakoss @pranses-oradea @hiding-inner-dabi @irkedpomeranian @the-fallen-moonknight @dr4g0n3t @dedinside1221 @shiggyniggy @roast-toast @grossograsso @brokenheart-brokenmind6 @thedancingparrot
I mention accounts that my works ❤️ and 🔄. If anyone no longer wishes to be mentioned, please let me know.
93 notes · View notes
temis-de-leon · 1 year ago
Text
Love potion and OM! Brothers - Part 2
Characters: Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)
Intro , Part 1 , Part 3
Masterlist
CW: fluff, a tiny little bit suggestive, Belphie's a brat (aren't we all surprised), brothers crushing hard and MC implied to be crushing hard too, pre-established relationship
A/N: Just like in other posts, I can't seem to be able to properly tag some of you :(
.
Satan
How could he see the cat from his seat by the window, Satan didn’t know, but he would be crazy if he ever let go of the opportunity to pet one. The only thing he could think of before rushing out was grabbing you and some treats and hope the kitten was still there by the time you arrived.
He could feel his excitement buzzing in his chest when he knocked your door, but no sound came in return. He sent you a message, growing impatient and pacing in the hallway until he entered your room with determination.
“MC! Cat alert! I need help to sneak him in!”
Your smell was strong, but you didn’t seem to be in the room. Weird. However, it didn’t take him long to realize it was actually coming from the cauldron.
Satan got closer, temporarily forgetting about the cat while he studied the glittery liquid or, rather, holographic. He moved the spoon, humming when it reflected the warm light of the candles in a fluid motion. The smell was delicious, but it didn’t resemble any food he could think of. Actually, it reminded him of the Royal Library and the cat café you both visited after your study sessions.
Soft, shimmering, appealing.
A love potion? What were you doing, MC? Trying to enchant somebody?
He could tell you had left before finishing your project, otherwise, the essence would be stronger. Satan wondered if whatever you smelt reminded you of him in any sort of way. Maybe his cologne? Or the smell of treats and old books that plagued his room?
The brief thought of adding a strand of his hair crossed his mind, but he quickly erased it. He loved you and he wanted you to love him, yes, but he’d be damned if he forced those feelings. You taught him love and affection, allowing him to experience every word he’d ever read in his romance books and picturing you as the main character’s love interest.
Satan had no doubts. If you were to reciprocate his feelings, he’d prefer them to be real.
Asmo
“You won’t believe it, MC!”
He gained one thousand followers in Devilgram in just one night! Sneaking out and going to that party with Mammon was totally worth it! They both had to kneel before Lucifer for three whole hours and Mammon was hung upside down, that was true, but still, totally worth it!
Now, where were you? Your phone was charging on your bedside table and only half of the candles were lit, pictures of the family and various trinkets decorating the branches of the tree. He could see all the skincare products he’d ever recommend and bought for you on the table, but he frowned when he hold a bottle in his hand and felt it was almost empty.
Why didn’t you tell him? You could use the opportunity to go on a shopping spree with him! But… ooh, what were you making? It looked like the face oil you just finished! Silky, golden and glittery, almost odourless if not for the faint smell of your lip balm and flowers; roses, like the ones in his room.
Were you trying to replicate the product? He could understand why, it was a little expensive after all, but it wouldn’t achieve the same results as the original. Natural ingredients had some limits, after all. But hey, it could be fun! You had some great ideas, MC; although it was a pity you didn’t want to share them with him.
Or, maybe, you wanted to surprise him! A fuzzy feeling covered his heart at the thought, like bubbles in a sugary drink, and he had the sudden need of sitting down next to the cauldron with mixed words stuck in his throat. The oil changed its appearance from that perspective, the golden colour turning hot pink with red swirls.
Asmodeus stared in amazement, wondering what type of ingredients you used to create such a hypnotizing concoction. Could you share the recipe with him? It would be your little secret! He already had some ideas for the next one, like a soft baby pink or a shimmery white that looked and smelled like frosting.
Or, perhaps, if you were keen on the idea, you could come together to create a new smell that would only belong to you. Something that he’d never share with anyone else and could never be duplicated.
Like all the love he felt for you.
Beel
Forgive him, MC.
It smelt too good.
Like cheeseburgers with fries and pizza with sodas and raw cookie dough with marshmallows and ice cream and chips of every flavour… Everything he had ever eaten with you, especially during that movie marathon weekend.
It had been a consolation price for losing his last Fangol game, something that hardly happened and left him with a sour taste in his mouth, broody and frustrated, so not like him. He’d been hungrier than ever then and, if not for Lucifer and Lord Diavolo, he would’ve eaten half of the coliseum. Thankfully, you had a whole stack of food ready to be taken in the kitchen.
Beel knew you probably bought it all thinking he would win the game, but, hey, food is food. He’d never think of complaining, especially when it came from you.
He didn’t remember what you watched and he already apologized for it a couple of times, but he wasn’t really bothered about it. After all, he’d spent the whole weekend cuddling you, crossing the wobbly line of friendship you’d both established long ago, and eating everything you had for him. Only when the week began again he realized he hadn’t been left entirely satisfied and he deeply hoped you felt the same.
Should he had kiss you? Distract you from the movie and confess under the blankets, smelling you amongst the sugary and savoury food?  
He wasn’t sure at the time, but Belphie’s teasing was encouragement enough for him to leave his bedroom and rush to yours.
But you weren’t there.
And the cauldron smelt so good.
Beel didn’t even have time to check what it was before drinking it all at full speed as if it was a bottle of water after practice. The smell remained only for a couple of seconds, but he didn’t feel any different, maybe a little bit warmer than before.
Whatever.
Where were you, MC? He had something to tell you.
Belphie
He was dreaming of the beach, waves crashing against the sand and warm wind tanning his skin, but you weren’t there. He looked around for a while, finding no one, so, although very reluctantly, he forced himself to wake up.
The attic was empty and without the seawater’s coolness the high temperature in the room left him sticky, tangled in his sheets and uncomfortable. He searched for his DDD, toying with the idea of sending you a message in hopes of sleeping in your room, but he didn’t know how long it would take you to respond, so, grabbing his pillow and his blanket, he got up and went down the stairs.
He hadn’t seen you since last night and you didn’t share any classes that day, hence him not going to RAD despite Lucifer’s complaints. Then, dinner had been hectic with everyone trying to get your attention, so, overall, Belphie didn’t really spend any time with you that day and he missed you too much to sleep properly.
Yes, he blamed you.
And yes, it was a reason good enough to enter your room without knocking.
Disappointingly, just like in his dream, you weren’t there, although it smelt so much like you: your human essence, your body products and your detergent, which he’d stolen multiple times to clean his bed sheets.
Did you do laundry recently? Why didn’t you say anything? Or were you in the shower? In that case, don’t worry MC, he could wait, just not for long; after all, your bed was too comfortable and your room was especially homey that night. He expected you to be already at the beach by the time he got there.
Naked, clothed, in your swimwear, he didn’t care. Belphie just wanted you there with him. Hopefully, forever.
.
.
@hello-gloomy  @the-sassiest-toaster  @hero-nii-blog  @yourlocalyin  @elaemae  @eliciria  @darkflowerav  @zarakem  @yuuvis32  @anxious-chick  @commets-space  @deepestartisanhumanoidshark  @ourfinalisation
439 notes · View notes
lyssa-rina · 13 days ago
Text
Project Xerox.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Synopsis: Hydra has managed to clone the winter soldier, you, a handler, managed to escape with your ward after their downfall. Now after the scattering and reassembling of the avengers; trying to put themselves back together they uncover a lost secret.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (slowburn!)
Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, OCs, Reader
Warnings!: fighting, stabbing (it's not serious).
word count: 3.3k
AN: Ngl bro, I totally forgot I was writing this for a second bc my mom was in the hospital, but I digress. This is for fun plz be chill. enjoy!
Tumblr media
The last time you heard of the Avengers they were fighting in an airport in germany. You were fueling up at a gas station the news broadcasting on the convenience store tv showed airport security footage. Blows traded by both sides, back and forth, explosions and a giant man. The news anchor spoke over looped clips of fighting, something about ‘holding heros accountable’. You didn't care, no one at hydra was ever held accountable for what you went through, so who gives a shit? As long as they left you alone. Natasha was there, you hadn't spoken to her since she escaped the red room. Unbeknownst to herself and the captain, they were the reason you were able to escape hydra all those years ago.
It had been two years since hydra's downfall and you were still moving, trying to keep them off your trail by never staying in one place too long. Alexander Pierce’s death coupled with the incident in Washington created a domino effect across all of hydra.
They might have fallen but a hydra always rises from the ashes they said. A few patrons stopped to watch the news both in shock and feigned disinterest.
He was there too, the soldier, the asset, the blueprint. His face became a constant in your life after you were traded to hydra by the red room. Blue eyes that followed your every move, now watching you with curiosity.
"What's wrong?" You sat on the boardwalk, side by side with your ward, fishing poles waiting for the dark water to cough up a few more fish. A cold wind rustled the trees as a chill ran up your spine, that was all that you could hear besides the lapping of lake water.
"I think it's time for us to head back to the house." You received an annoyed whine in return.
"But- I haven't caught anything yet!"
"I know, but we've been out here all evening, I want you to get some studying in before dinner time" those eyes, staring back at you in disbelief.
"What?! Why?" Despite his protest, he knows to follow orders. That training has been ingrained into his mind since birth.
Reeling in his line with a pout. "Why do I have to study if I already know everything?"
You hum in answer as you smile at the kid. He looks so adorable with his oversized jacket and unruly hair.
"Do you think fish have dreams isaac?"
Those eyes again, swirling with so much curiosity, intrigue and as much scepticism as any eight year old could muster. How was he supposed to know that?
"See? You don't know everything." The walk back to the house was spent with Isaac trying to prove that he did in fact know everything. He did, kind of. Growing up under Hydra’s thumb meant he had to know everything, be anything. To survive you had to be the best of the best and he was. Surpassing dozens of other clones. Alexander Pierce had personally congratulated you on shaping their best new asset, it was sickening the way scientists marveled over their creation. They said he was perfect, genetically, physically, mentally and academically. But who cares how smart you are when they need mindless soldiers. But most of all he was profitable.
It was silent, the only sounds were leaves rustling in the trees and crunching under your feet. The weather was getting colder and the lack of birds chirping didn't seem too alarming. But still, the feeling stayed. The feeling reminded you of the first times they ever went outside. More than half of the kids were terrified, seeing the sky for the first time. Issac was amongst those scared kids but he adapted the fastest and now you can barely keep him inside.
You locked every door and window as soon as you got back to the house. Drawing each curtain as you moved through the cabin, they wouldn't do much for protection, unless there was a sniper they would at least keep you out of view. Even after you prepared dinner, that feeling of unease was there.
"Issac?" He was at the coffee table. Rereading an advanced algebra book for the fifth time.
“Yes?”
“Go tell your brother dinner’s ready.”
The soft thumping of a walking stick became familiar. It was like hearing your own heartbeat in the dead of night. The whirring of a breathing machine was white noise when your thoughts traveled too far, pulling you back to the present as you poured your stew over rice. The heat of the stew was a comfort in a life that always seemed to be moving, rice was cheap and convenient, but versitial.
When you turn to set the table Ben is already in his seat. He usually helps you with cooking but recently the cold makes his leg ache. Since then he’s been listening to the radio frequencies, waiting to hear anything suspicious but thankfully there's been nothing so far.
‘smells good.’ Ben signs as you place his bowl in front of him.
He then turns to Issac, who’s standing beside him. ‘Let’s hope it tastes good too.’
“Hey!” You say feigning offense. “ I was trained to be a spy, not a cook.” The two boys burst into a hearty laugh.
Dinner was peaceful, well, as peaceful as any dinner could be with two young boys debating theoretical cartoon physics in sign language. The boy's dynamic was the same as any other pair of siblings. Brainwashed or not every sibling has pulled a knife on the other, there was that intense push and pull of love and hate. According to the scientists at the hydra facility, they wouldn't exactly be classified as siblings. They were identical, even more than twins. They were the same person, exactly the same. The same person living different lives. When the experiments started you pondered if a singular soul could be split into two, maybe three? But how far can a singular soul stretch? Can a soul even be shared?
“Are you coming to bed?” Issac asks, his big puppy eyes stare back at you. You can tell he senses your unease the way he fidgets on your shared bed.
“I’m not tired yet, I’ll come to bed in a little bit. Okay?” He pouts, crosses his arms and looks away. He’s getting such an attitude these days. You’re thankful that he is, it means he’s not afraid of you. You don’t think they ever were scared of you, maybe by a fraction. Growing up in that place breathes hesitancy, it breathes fear. One guard's bad day could lead to your worst.
“Ben. . . ” You threw him a look, you haven't told him about the unease you felt at the lake. But the eyes tell it all, you’ve both developed a sort of telepathy over the years. Something wasn't right and as he looked back at you from his mattress on the floor he understood completely. Ben knows the drill, he’s been doing this for years.
They look just like him, soon enough you might not even be able to tell them apart from him. They might still be kids but they were under hydra's control for so long. You’re afraid that they might end up back there, end up like the asset, like the soldier that can’t say no and won’t ask questions; because that’s exactly what they were made for.
He nods.
“Goodnight boys.”
You stayed awake, sitting in front of the fireplace with your piece. The fire crackled. It’s light dancing across your eyes and then you heard it, a creak. Wood bending under the pressure of some sneaking intruder, it was the back door. You eased off the couch and sneaked behind a wall armed and ready, when you saw another shadow walk across your front window. You could handle them, sure, but you’d like to stop running someday, find somewhere safe enough to feel normal. Somewhere you didn't have to look over your shoulder after every step.
You suspected it. But you wouldn’t believe it, you hoped they hadn’t found you.
You had a slight upper hand, as small as the cabin was, you’d been living here for weeks. You knew the layout. So waited, back against the mantel wall. Waiting for them to cross the threshold of the hallway. Their steps light, you could hear the subtle drag of the sole of their shoe. If you hadn't known they were there you would think nothing of it. Before the intruder could check their periferal you striked. Grabbing their arm you threw them over your shoulder, they slammed onto a wooden armchair destroying it. You aimed your piece and missed as they kicked you in the chest. When you stumbled they rolled out of the chair limbs and kicked your legs from under you. The both of you were on the ground fighting over the gun when you fired again, it grazed their side. They launched at you and you kicked them off and kicked up into a standing position.
Before you could take aim again, they kicked your gun out of your hand. They tried to climb onto your shoulders, it was a predictable move. You reached for a vase on the window when their calf landed on your shoulder, they backed off after it shattered against them. You were able to keep up as you traded blows, it was a dance you were familiar with. When someone grabbed you from behind, trapping your arms to your sides. Right! There was another one. You lifted your legs and kicked the first intruder in the chest, sending them flying into the broken chair. Yourself and the second intruder flew into the side window from the force of the kick. The glass cracked with a web leaving a big hole in its centre. This was starting to get tedious, but you realised they weren't trying to hurt you but maybe distract you. What if some else was trying to get to your boys while you were stuck here fighting.
You leapt over the first intruder to get to them but the second one grabbed you from behind again. Your window trick wouldn't work again so you head butted them and their grip slackened.
“Ah! Shit!” they hissed.
That was a familiar ‘shit!’. It definitely stood out against all the grunting from the struggle. You froze when the lights came on a second later and you were released. In the corner of the room stood your long lost fellow captive, Natalia Alianovna Romanova, Natasha Romanoff, the widow that escaped. When you turned around the second intruder you came to find out was just Clint Barton. Your entire body sagged with relief but before you could say a word, Clint cried out again gripping his thigh. It was Isaac, armed with a small knife. His eyebrows furrowed, his teeth bared, like a kitten with a crazy smile. He’d stabbed him in the thigh thinking you were in danger, you honestly don’t blame him but he shouldn’t have too. He’s just a kid.
“Isaac no!” you cried out, as he pulled his arm back to strike Clint again. You managed to grab his hand before it came down. Grabbing him by the torso and dragging him away. Confusion brewd on his face as his small frame fought against you. He wouldn’t dare use his real strength against you but why were you stopping him? He was trying to protect you.
“Issac, stop!” his hesitancy was written all over his face. You could tell that he was sacred. He was on the verge of tears, his breath trembled.
Ben stood at the threshold of the room, eyes wide, breath rasping, balancing on his walking stick.
‘I tried to stop him.’ His hands shook as he signed. His breath was ragged, his chest pumping rapidly but not so much from fright but lack oxygen. Rushing after Issac he wouldn't have had time to put his oxygen concentrator on.
“It’s okay. I know you're scared but these are my friends-“
“But they attacked you!” Issac wheezed out.
“ They surprised me- and I got scared and I reacted without thinking.”You really weren't thinking, even with the light from the fireplace you’d ignored all recognizable features and just focused on the fight.
“Remember what we talked about?” His eyes darted between the three adults but avoiding eye contact.
“ . . .I’m sorry.” He murmured.
“You don’t need to be sorry issac. You were just trying to protect me.” you breathed a sigh of relief as he curled into your chest. Silent cries shook his tiny frame, you tried to sooth him, rubbing circles into his back. “But, you don’t need to protect me, I’m the adult, I’m supposed to protect you.”
“Don’t feel bad, kid. I’ve stabbed him by accident too, he’ll be fine.” Natasha snickered out.
“Hilarious.” Clint mockingly hissed and turned to you to ask for a first aid kit.
“It’s under the sink and I’m trying to teach him to not stab people anymore.” The cut on leg definitely wasn’t deep but the drama queen still clutched his thigh in pain.
“Well, you're doing a terrible job.” Clint whined as he sat at the kitchen table.
“Cut me some slack, we’re practically hermits.” you grinned slightly.
The boys wouldn’t go back to bed after all the commotion, so you all settled in the front room, well, what else was left of it; While Clint stewed the small connected kitchen. The cold breeze streamed through the broken side window chilling the room. The cabin was only eight hundred square feet, if you would even call it a cabin,It wasn’t made for long ‘vacations’ but you managed.
You felt safer with Clint and Natasha here but something still wasn’t right. They wouldn’t be here without a reason. You sat in the centre of the couch, Issac’s head in your lap and Ben curled into your side, both eagle eyed.
“Sorry about your window.” Nat poked at the fireplace trying to heat up the room.
You waved her off. They wouldn’t be here if they didn't intend to take you all to wherever they were staying. Your time here was limited anyways, if they hadn't come you would’ve left soon anyways. “That was Clint’s fault, it’s fine”
“My fault?!” Clint gawked, but you ignored him.
“You should take care of that.” Gesturing to the bullet graze you gave her. She nods, her back to you, her focus was on the fireplace.
“We’ve been tracking you for months.” The flames from the fireplace rose, glowing ashes floated up as Nat added more wood. She was floating on an air of disquiet, her posture was rigid, feigned calmness. You’d known each other since you were kids, you were trained to pick up on weakness, even eachother’s.
“Hhm, guess I’m getting lazy.”
“With two kids? I’m surprised we took so long.” Ben and Issac were trained in the same ways you were, hiding in plain sight was something that came naturally to everyone in this room. Moving through life without leaving a trace wasn't just a skill, it was survival. You don’t know why she would point that out.
“Cut the bullshit. Why were you looking for us? What happened?”
“I can’t check on an old friend?” Trying to ease the tension she turns to you and gives a small smile.
You raised a brow. “We’ve been out for years and no one but Hydra lackeys cared about us until now.”
Nat postures to speak again but hesitates.
“General Thaddeus Ross happened.” Clint answered, digging into one of the kitchen cupboards. “Com’on, You guys don’t have reeses?” he mutters to himself.
“Latvia doesn’t have reeses- what does Ross want?” you ask Nat.
“You ask that everytime we’re Latvia Clint.” Nat rolled her eyes feigning annoyance.
“What does Ross want, Natasha?” She doesn't speak but her eyes say it all as they linger on your fingers combing through Ben’s hair. Ben tenses under your palm, he already knows what’s going on.
“Issac, go help your brother back to your room.”
“He has his cane-” he tries to whine.
“Issac, please.”
Ben takes Issac under the arm, the three of you sit in pregnant silence waiting for the sound of the bedroom door to shut. They would probably still hear you because of their super hearing but this was an adult conversation, they're just kids.
When you hear the sound of the door shut Clint breaks the silence with a chuckle.
“Stubborn, that one.”
You knew why the Avengers fell apart, because of the accords. That general Thaddeus Ross wanted superheroes under his thumb and tried pressing their team into signing the accords, they disagreed and things got messy. You also knew when Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D fell all their secrets were strewn onto the internet, hidden behind their plans, strategies and weapons testing there were documents out there that detailed your time in that hell hole. Everything about the experiments that wasn’t on paper was out there and had been out there for a long time. Their weight, height, progress and even their ‘date of birth’. It was all there. Someone was going to get their hands on it eventually.
“You know what happened.” Nat sighs, wiping the exhaustion off her face.
“That doesn't explain why you're here! The last time I saw you two, you were fighting each other on tv.” You rise from your seat on the couch to see them both. To look them both in their eyes.
This vagueness Natasha was operating in, especially with you of all people, was freaking you out.
“First of all, we’re always fighting. Secondly, that was six months ago and I forgave her.” Clint puts it matter of factly, with one finger pointed and a pack of saltines crumpling in his hands. You really wished he wouldn’t eat your snacks but you’d be leaving soon anyway, so who cares?
“Nat, you need to tell me if they’re in danger. Please. . .” She does.
She spills her guts and in turns sours yours. After the accords fell the general started digging up anything he could to get the avengers to hand over their power. He was trying to stretch himself far and wide to get back any semblance of power and he landed on project xerox. He concluded that all ‘weapons’ produced by the experiments were legally property of the US government because of S.H.I.E.L.D’s involvement. Natasha explained that a ‘friend’ that worked for the government leaked the information to her. The mad man wanted your kids in custody, presumably to be child soldiers.It was like deja vu, your story wasn’t changing.
What was left of the ‘dubbed by media’ team cap were all still on the run, hiding out in eurasia and africa. When Nat got the tip she left the safety of their group without warning just to come find you, which meant Thaddeus Ross probably already knew where and by extension so did his enemies. You were bugs caught in a spiderweb of agendas and every arachnid wanted a piece.
“Where were you staying before you came here?”
“A couple towns over.“ Nataha’s slight grin gives the inclination that they’ve been following you closer than you initally thought. So much so that Natasha and Clint were able to stop a military squad before they were able to intercepted you and the boys.
“And I’m guessing you didn’t just bring Clint here to annoy me.” Clint rolls his eyes.
“No, I came to take you on a field trip.”
“To where?” The three of you swivel to the boy’s heads peeking out of the bedroom door in the hallway.
“Boys! What did I say?”
Tumblr media
Taglist: @impoeticbeauty
64 notes · View notes