#to the point where he looks kim look bad in comparison

[bdsmrist]

im high rn so u can ignore me but going insane over the fact that the harry that is nice to kids and likes them is *basically* the canon harry.

like harry wants to be nice to cuno despite how annoying he is, and makes a massive graffiti that says I LOVE YOU CUNO so he grows up knowing that someone out there (harry) loves him. not to mention if kim eats shit n dies, cuno comes w u and u advocate for him to become a junior officer.

also, his scene with annette is so precious; how he can tell that shes extra polite because shes guarded, and when he sees her nails, he doesnt scold her but rather sympathizes with her situation. AND stands up to her mom and calls her out for being a shitty parent (which most ppl irl never do).

and when he meets the anodic teens/young adults, hes so fucking desperate to be perceived as cool while simultaneously reassuring these kids that they are cool, and that their dreams and aspirations are valid and special. like these kids are *homeless*, but he uplifts them to the point where as a player u can easily forget the fact, because he doesnt treat them as such. he treats them like complex people, like fellow artists.

like can u imagine just how kind this man mustve been to his student as a coach. how many shy kids he befriended and got out of their shell. how many kids came out to him as queer (n he was cool w it). and how many kids he can-opened into telling him of the troubles back at home, and how he talked to them through the pain. like do u think he became a cop because a part of him hopped he could help these kids even more if he did?

i think its intended to understand harry as a complex man who holds immense amounts of resentment to the world around him, and has the potential to be one of the most detestable people ever. as a cop, and as an addict, hes seen both the worse of humanity, and seen the worse of himself. so hes meant to have one or two regrettable interactions w those around him.

BUT! he knows kids are never the problem. he understands more than anything that kids are just kids, they need to be protected, and be treated with patience, kindness, and respect. like yeah, u can punch cuno, but the game doesnt rly want u to. if u do, the skills, HARRY’s skills, tell u ur an asshole, and resent u for it.

so in short empath/gentle harry du bois is the best harry du bois. im not sorry abt it.

[babyangelsky]

BL Challenge 2k24 ✨Day 7✨

Hello and welcome to @negrowhat's 15 Day BL Challenge! Full challenge can be found here.

Favorite Villain: Korn Theerapanyakul

It isn't often that we get an actual villain in a BL. We have plenty of love rivals but those are rarely ever villains in the true sense of the word. We also have a large, unfortunate array of shitty parents and parental figures, some of which absolutely do fall into the villain category, but they don't deserve my effort or your attention.

But then we have Korn.

Korn is a villain. Make absolutely no mistake about that. This man has dedicated his life to playing 4D chess with everyone around him, including and especially his sons, and he's brilliant at it. There is never a moment where he isn't in control, there is never a moment where he hasn't thought at least five steps ahead, and he has very few blind spots.

What gets me—and what makes him that much more insidious in my opinion—is how he presents himself to the world.

♡ gif by @guzhufuren from this set

"This man, a villain? Never! He's just a nice, soft-spoken dad in a sweater vest! Sure he's a bit intimidating but he's in the mafia, it's to be expected. And just look at how accepting he is of his gay sons! He's looking at a photo of his son and his son-in-law and smiling, isn't that lovely?"

False!

Korn's image is perfectly curated and if you only look on the surface, from the outside that's exactly what he is: a nice dad and a respectable businessman. He's rational, calm, and level-head, especially when you compare him to Gun—which you can't not do. It's impossible to have a conversation about Korn without talking about Gun, who is absolutely just as bad and who I easily could've chosen.

The difference is that Gun's evil is overt and in a way, it's more...honest because of it. He's not out here pretending to be a good person or trying to be anything other than exactly what he is. What you see is what you get. However, I chose Korn precisely because of that insidiousness, because his evil appears so much more subtle but only when it remains in the shadows.

♡ gif by @kinnbig from this set

Because when everything gets brought to light? Hoooooo BOY.

This man kept his foster sister in isolation under lock and key for years after he killed her husband and took her away from her two little boys. Then he left those little boys in the care of a degenerate gambler and watched them sink further and further into debt. And that's only the thin end of the wedge! If we got into all the ways he fucked up his OWN boys, we'd be here all damn day.

Kidnapping on perhaps more than one occasion, a hit squad, Kim's entire personality, Kinn's emotional range, need I go on?

But getting back to Porsche and Chay, Korn could've helped them at literally any point but he didn't lift a finger until they grew up and became useful to him. He could've cleared their debts, paid for Chay's education, provided for them, kept them from getting remotely close to a situation were men were beating them and trashing their home. But he did exactly none of that because whatever sense of obligation Korn might have felt toward them absolutely pales in comparison to his need for control.

♡ gif by @kinnbig from this set

That's what this all comes down to: control. The world is a chessboard and everyone in Korn's orbit is a piece on it. He proposed an outcome for himself and he got it.

He made sure Kinn was cemented as head of the main family and found a way to cement Porsche as head of the minor family. He got rid of Gun and the threat he presented and succeeded in burying the truth of what happened to Porsche's parents with him, because the truth that Korn gave simply is not the whole truth. It never will be because divulging the truth means giving up control, and that is something he will never do.

I could literally talk for hours about Korn. He's a fascinating character. He's got so many layers. Bottom line?

Este señor es el mismísimo diablo. This man is the living breathing devil.

[jennycinco-5]

ML Zealot : Is that wrong we have female super evil villains ? Is a “GURLS POWAH” show and is make sense why Chloe and Lila are irredeemable bitch !!!!

Let me said something 

Yes ! You can have manipulative or remorseless and vilest evil female villain in the show ! 

BUT

Made them fascinating and enjoyed by fans and contribute for the main plot ! Made them engaging and  truly a threat by show that they are as dangerous as the male villain.

Out of four female villain and antagonist in Agent Ali ,Jenny/Cinco is consider to be more vile, intimidating and petty af woman. And she downright psychotic in recent episode (Season 2 Episode 12) where we can see her brutally beat and mocking her opponent and laugh like a maniac. In previous several episode She also done many terrible thing and almost injure the innocents.

Does the writer wanted us to hate her ? No. They never tell to fans to hate her character just because she is a villain and supposed more vilest than any previous big-bad (Uno and Niki). Hate her or like her is up to you

Then we have her foster sister Kim. She is sympathetic and show lot of more depth than Cinco. She willingly do anything to accomplished her mission from Cinco for sake of Numeros while she does show a remorse for harming innocent and the Main character pet cat. 

Does the writer wanted us to hate Kim too ? No ! Again is up to you to see her as sympathetic or not. And its up to you to still love her or hate her. 

Kim and Cinco are fascinating antagonists just like Dos and Niki. Even some of them admit they are cooler than Uno (the first big-bad of Agent Ali). Writer indeed know how to make them into competent villain like the previous one. 

Lets see on Chloe and Lila

The writer wanted us to hate them so badly to the point THAT GUY claim they are irredeemable monster than the the terrorist and abusive father. The narrative try hard to make them Super EVulZ despite they are a troubled teenager and willingly retcon anything to make them a heartless monster who more dangerous than the main villain while the main villain as a “tragic villain” who deserve to be rewarded because “I LOsE My wAIfu bOhOOOhooo! But ThIs Vor MaH FamIly~”. If you criticize the writer for writing on Chloe and Lila or a fans of these character, writer especially THAT GUY and the Zealot ML will claim that you are “Bully-apologizer” and “as bad as Chloe and Lila”. To make them “work” as “villain” writer make sure that the background character (children and adults) as idiotic as possible to make them look “intimidating” 

Most of Chloe and Lila evil-thing has no impact for the plot. They just do evulz thing because out of spite and THAT GUY hate them for burning passion and also a proof of THAT GUY is a misogynist and full of double-standard . Everytime I see the leaks about them made me roll my eyes.

Is the writer do the same thing on Uno ? Even if Uno has a depth compare to Cinco, writer didn’t paint him as “Tragic Villain” unlike what ML narrative do on Gabemoth. Uno was narcissistic and vengeful man. While he does have moment of humanizing his character, also hate the asshole mayor (Dato’ Othman) and the Chief Pillar aware that Djin betrayal become Uno was part of their fault, the narrative never paint him as “tragic villain” or blaming the Pillar Chief for Uno betrayal

For the other rest antagonist comparison I will write the longer thread in next time because I need to finish watch Agent Ali season 3.

[consumeronionbulletin]

Yong-pal (2015)

I liked this show, but the premise is legitimately bonkers. It's a modern day take on sleeping beauty—only there's no handsome prince—just an overworked (but obviously handsome) doctor, a bunch of gangsters, and some crazy corporate infighting. Let me explain... no there is too much. Let me sum up...

The first 10 episodes were enthralling. The lead character Kim Tae Hyun (aka Yong-pal and played by Joo Won), was originally framed as a cynical anti-hero who is in way over his head and has to do a ton of unethical stuff. But then he finds himself trapped being an unofficial guard for Han Yeo-jin (aka Sleeping Beauty and played by Kim Tae-hee), and at some point he decides he doesn't want to be one of the baddies and helps her escape.

This takes about 9-10 episodes to work through and has some great action and tense surgery moments... because this is an action / medical drama, and you meet alot of interesting characters.

Then just past the mid-point of the season, Sleeping Beauty is finally free and she starts taking back the Kingdom and taking revenge on everyone who had anything to do with locking her in the castle. This Takes 3-4 episodes and is about where the show starts to drag a bit.

Then we have 2 episodes of board room corporate warfare that doesn't make much sense and the OTP hits a rough patch and it starts to really drag.

Then the ending arc is bonkers (**spoilers** there's poisoning, cancer, miracle surgery, people who disappeared 5 episodes ago returning to Save The Day(TM), lots of pretty people crying, and kids in a clinic). I wanted to see how it ended, so I kept going until the end, but it was slightly disappointing.

Why the Show Worked Anyway

Casting! This cast is so pretty, and so much fun to watch, and the characters are fascinating enough that you just don't care how crazy the plot is.

Kim Mi-kyung is still a standout actor. And she's young enough that she doesn't have to be anyone's mom (all the moms are dead in this show, because of course they are). She's the Head Nurse at the hospital instead!

Joo Won gets to play a doctor who is kind of an action hero at the start but then loses his super powers about the time he (**spoilers** gets shot). I liked him, but the other characters are so colorful that he almost seems tame by comparison. The show needs someone to ground it, and most of the time that's Joo Won.

Kim Tae-hee is very good as well. She spends 10 episodes being sick and crying alot (while managing to look cute instead of terrible). Then she gets an arc where she's basically a corporate mob boss and goes on a murder-for-hire spree, and I think that's probably where she's most interesting. I think she does alot with the part she's written, but her character isn't very nuanced.

Chae Jung-an is another standout. I think the character was written very inconsistently (and not just because she pretended to be a ditz some of the time), but she was so much fun to watch that I kind of just went with it. Could have done without some of the cringy scenes in yoga pants at the hospital, but even that was still funny sometimes.

Stephanie Lee (or Lee Jeong-ah) had maybe the coolest role that wasn't a lead. Morally grey but (due to careful writing) not really evil, she's basically the fixer for the VIP floor of the hospital. And it was nice to see a Korean-American in a role.

Honorable Mention to Jo Hyun-jae as the evil step-brother. His character tended to bad-guy monologue. His schemes pretty much always blew up in his face. However, he somehow made this two-dimensional baddy feel like a real person. Or at least, enough of a real person that you felt sorry for him a few times.

TL; DR:

I got alot of enjoyment out of episodes 1-10 or so. I didn't hate the rest of them, but it felt like the writers didn't know what to do, and so they just started putting stuff out there almost randomly. And even the stuff they setup earlier in the season was so bonkers that it felt random. Still a good show that is fun to watch (most of the time).

[suntiger745]

There are some good points in the two posts above, but I would also argue that the criticism and edge against pre-war US is still there in Fallout 3 and 4, but it's much less front and center.

Part of it is, I think, in how Bethesda make their open world games. The world is very much a character in itself, and it is in the world you find the harshest criticism and most blatant evidence of the repression and hypocrisy in the pre-war US.

(I would also put part of it on the devs screwing up the time and setting it too far into the future. By all rights, 200 years after the bombs fell humanity should have rebuilt a lot more, formed new nations and areas of governance, even on the east coast.

Given the state of the Capital Wasteland and the Commonwealth, setting the games 50 years after the bombs felt would have made more sense. But ignoring that for now.)

I've played Fallout 4 more recently, so that's where most of my memory comes from, but it is the terminals, logs and even the placement of destruction or skeletons that I find the sharpest edges in Bethesda's Fallout games.

The hidden robobrain facility under RobCo Sales and Service Center from the Automatron DLC has some truly horrifying levels of governmental abuses against its own citizens. There's also Hallucigen Inc. - a company that manage to make Vault Tec look less bad by comparison from the stories told in the terminals, over the loudspeakers and by the design of their testing rooms.

Several of the schools also have terminals and logs that tell of corruption, drug use among students and blatant disregard for safety. That blatant disregard for safety is also found in most of the construction sites and several of the science labs. To say nothing of Nuka World, which was an OSHA nightmare for both staff and visitors. The part about visitors being bitten by a lethally venomous snake having to fill out a complaint form before going to get treated or else they are not entitled to recompense is a particularly nasty legalese craft.

Even in the quest for Arlen Glass, a good man who just wanted to make kids happy by building robot horses for the kids, there was corruption where his partner's son did a hostile takeover of the Wilson Atomatoys company so he could get money from the military and convert the factory to make landmines.

Mass Fusion (and Poseidon Energy) is also shown to have dumped fairly massive amounts of nuclear waste into both lakes and the sea, then covered it up by bribes and at least one murder. It also led to the death of several people in Lake Quannapowitt that was so polluted it made people sick wading in it, and a few people died when the polluted water ate through the bottom of their boat and they drowned. All because the companies in question didn't want to follow the regulations to save some money.

There's a similar story with the Weston Water treatment plant, which doctored its purification records and used water imported from another site to mislead inspectors, again for greed and profit.

The arrest records in the police stations, and the logs at military checkpoints, also revels abuse of power and corruption among law enforcement and the military.

Two terminals in the Wu house and Marshall house in Natick banks has a heartbreaking story told via a chinese-american boy named Kim Wu who loves baseball and doesn't understand why his parents are so nervous and argue all the time recently, or why his mom told him to go play on the roof - but also be very quiet - when police comes and take people away in busses. If you don't read a lot of terminals or don't explore thoroughly it is quite easy to miss many of these bits of story and lore, which I think is at least in part responsible for the impression of Fallout 3 and 4 being "softer" and more pre-war US friendly.

Man I know I'm bitching about this a lot but I think the complete degradation of the satire and edge of the fallout series over time makes me so mad. The first game literally has an occupying American soldier shooting a Canadian protester dead right there in the opening to let you know the game's stance towards the military and the US as a whole; it's a biting attack on the jingoistic, war-and-profit loving country the US was, rooted in reality. It immediately forces the player to recognize the US (especially in this setting) were not heroic, patriotic do-gooders, but violent, colonizing bastards who blew up the world over chasing a white-picket-fence dream. "War never changes" is about the futile nature of war, the repeating cycles of violence and corruption, the very principles of fighting your fellow man never changing over time. It is always abhorrent, it is always messy, it is always reprehensible, and it is always done for the self interest of the elite in some way. Men do not die for their country, they simply die. Contrasting that with the opening of Fallout 4, which seems to idolize the military and pre-war America, is fucking baffling. You have those white picket fences, those perfect nuclear families, and "war never changes" is stretched like an Animorph cover from a harsh condemnation of the violent cycles the world is put through to a patriotic, watered down idea that war is inevitable and so are heroes. There's no fucking edge to how Fallout 4 remembers the country that ended the world; it gleefully eats up the Americana iconography, sanding down every edge that could make the player even consider that the US in the world of Fallout is meant to be our US taken to a logical extreme, instead revelling in patriotic clothes and ideals and icons while the entire basis of the franchise was built on satirizing and critiquing that exact blind patriotism. It drives me insane that these two completely ideologically different games are under the same roof and that one of them fell for the exact propaganda the first game was satirizing in the first place.

[kim-ruzek]

“Stans say Jay would never, but sometimes you think you've learnt from your past mistakes and then something happens and you regress again-- everyone thinks they're moving forward until they're not.”

ok so if marina wanted to leave show and sigan wrote her character exit how she wrote jay’s exit. something traumatic happens to kim again, she push adam away again, she tell adam her and mack are going away for few months, then suddenly she shut adam out and stop responding to his calls. all of this would be in character for kim. would you be oh so understanding of sigan’s choices then? no you wouldnt. its only easy to when its not your ship. you all hated rick eid for fucking with your ship. why is it wrong for us to do same with gwen? we know jesse wanted to leave but she had choice to keep them happy married off screen. maybe put him in charge of another unit. or have them be in long distance happy marriage. if military couples can do it upstead can too!

Lmao I love how you clearly sent this me thinking it would be a gotcha but like... Yeah. I would still be understanding of Sigan's choices. Like it's literally laughable that you read what I wrote and still thought I wouldn't.

And yeah, it's easy to not be upset when it's my ship. And I would be deeply upset at that ending for Burzek because that's not how they deserve to end. But I wouldn't unfairly put that on Sigan, or get so distorted from reality that I'd think that one decision makes her a bad showrunner.

Also "it's only easy to when it's not your ship"... You say that like this is the only show I've ever watched. I know to be understanding because, fancy this, I've been through this with other shows. And I've got enough sense to know that an acting leaving when the show is still active often means these kinds of exits because the writers only really have a limited amount of options-- especially for a show like this where they don't have a contained amount of seasons they want and that's it.

It's also deeply naïve to expect them to keep them happily married off screen. If the characters personal life wasn't a part of the plot, maybe that would be more realistic but it is a plot point. And they potentially want this show to run indefinitely, so to keep them off screen is a LOT. Now look, if I was in charge of the show, and had the power to do so, and I saw in upstead what y'all see, I would've kept them long distance happily married off screen because I'm a huge believer of that's possible and could be done. But that's not how the producers and creators and writers of this show actually roll, which is what you stans don't understand.

Now I'm not saying you can't be upset. You can. I've said that all this time. You can feel sad that this is how your ship ends, especially if you see their relationship as iconic or whatever. If say either Marina or Paddy left, that would be me done with the show and it would forever leave an ache in my heart.

My criticism is just purely about the hypocrisy and the fact that you think Sigan doing her job and actually doing it quite well is...her not? Especially because even if we say agree she fumbled upstead, that's one part of the show and in all other areas she's killing it. That doesn't mean she isn't qualified, that just means in one area she lacks.

It's also like, it could've been so much worse. Like with what she had to play with, Jay/Jesse/Upstead got a good exit. Unexpected detour from the pre outline for the evolution of his character if he had stayed maybe, but the best of the options they could've gone with.

Finally "if military couples can do it, upstead can"... No one is saying long distance is unrealistic. The difference is military couples are real, upstead is a fictional ship which is unfortunately controlled by the whim of multiple out of show factors.

Also fuck off with the comparison of Sigan to Eid. As a svu and burzek fan 🖕🏽

[sluttywonwoo]

the bet || j.ww x reader

Summary: you help your boyfriend’s best friend win a bet against your better judgement

Warnings: swearing, lil bit of jealousy, light smut (18+) 

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Hey, can I ask a huge favor?”

You hoisted yourself up from your beach towel onto your elbows and pulled down your sunglasses to glare at the boy in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. What could Kim Mingyu possibly want from you?

“What is it?”

He ran a hand through his still-wet hair awkwardly. “Um, the boys and I are about to play a game of volleyball, and we’ve bet some money on it…”

“Okay?”

“And, well, it’s me and Hansol against Wonwoo, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan. Wonwoo’s their best player and I was wondering if you could distract him? So that we have a better chance of winning?”

“Distract him… how?” you asked, not fully understanding.

“You know… whatever it is you do that drives Wonwoo crazy. He’s your boyfriend, I’m sure you know how to wind him up.”

“You mean you want me to get him hard during your game?”

Mingyu nearly choked at that. “Um, I mean pretty much, yeah. Just do something that will throw him off his game.”

“So you want me to help you guys cheat?”

“It’s not technically cheating.”

“I think your definition of cheating is much looser than mine.”

“So is that a no?” he asked.

You thought about it for a second. “Is there anything in it for me?”

“We’ll give you a cut of the winnings.”

You found yourself grinning. “How much did you guys bet?”

“Two hundred if they win, three hundred if we win. Basically whoever’s on the losing team has to cough up a hundred bucks.”

“Jeez, I can’t believe Wonwoo is risking that much on a stupid game.”

“Are you upset?”

“No, it’s his money he can do whatever he wants with it. I just think he’s a dumbass.”

“Not arguing with that.”

“Do you need me to remind you that you’re betting the same amount?”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “So you’ll do it? For a hundred?”

“Yeah, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Pleasure doing business.” Mingyu smirked and held out his hand for you to shake. You rolled your eyes at the formality but shook his hand anyway, just as Wonwoo came up to the both of you and clapped Mingyu on the shoulder.

“What are my best mate and my best girl talking about?” he asked, leaning down to kiss you.

“I wanted to go swimming, but Mingyu said you guys are about to play volleyball?” You piped up before Mingyu could say anything. Maybe you should’ve felt guiltier than you did about lying to your boyfriend and for what you were about to do, but hey, a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars . And if everything went according to plan, you’d be getting some good dick too. A win win.

Wonwoo frowned a little bit. “Oh yeah, sorry. Wanna play, love?” he offered. “There’s still some room on Mingyu’s team.”

You made a face. “What about your team? Can’t you make one of your other team members switch?”

He winced. “I love you, y/n, but you’re shit at sports.”

Any trace of remorse left over what you’d agreed to do dissolved in that moment. He fucking deserved what he was about to get.

“The stupid game is that important to you? Asshole,” you scoffed, and put your sunglasses back on before laying back down on the towel.

“Y/n,” Wonwoo whined, and crouched down next to you. “I-”

“Go play your fucking game.”

He stood back up, but lingered for a moment. You could tell he felt bad, but you weren’t having it. “Wanna go swimming after?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Sure, whatever.”

You could tell he’d walked away when the shadow over you disappeared. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were a little pissed about the comment he’d made. Were you shit at sports? Yes, definitely, but could he have at least pretended to love you enough to be on the same team as you? Also yes. He should’ve known you were going to say no anyway.

While you were still fuming you hadn’t even realized the boys had started the game. Not even a minute in and you were already slacking on your end of the bet. You propped yourself back up for a moment to watch. You could see why Mingyu had asked for your help. Wonwoo and his team were dominating so far, and you couldn’t help but admire how fit your boyfriend looked as he served the ball to the other side of the court. You licked your lips absentmindedly, ready to pull him back to the car right fucking then.

You forced yourself to stop watching the game stood up from your towel, brushed yourself off, and began walking towards the water. You made sure to pull your bikini bottoms as far up your ass as you could in the process just to get Wonwoo’s attention as you walked past the volleyball net. Sure, you’d agreed to go swimming with him after the match, but you’d never promised to wait for him.

As you made your way down to the shore, you noted that not only Wonwoo’s head turned to watch you walk, but all five of the boys cast their attention away from the game and towards you. You glanced behind your shoulder for a second, and caught Mingyu’s smirk. He took advantage of Wonwoo’s lapse in concentration to spike the ball back over to their side and score a point.

You heard some yelling and protestation, but pretended to ignore it and continued to wade into the water.

It was warmer than you thought it would be, and deeper. There was a steep drop a few feet in that you might have tripped over if you weren’t careful. You only ended up staying in the ocean for a few minutes; Wonwoo couldn’t really get distracted by you if your whole body was submerged underwater. You weren’t there to swim around anyway, just to get your bathing suit wet so it would stick to your body.

You’d worn one that didn’t have pads in it so you knew that once you got out of the water the whole beach would be able to see your nipples poking through the fabric. You didn’t have a problem with that. Wonwoo might.

While you were down there you got your hair wet too, just for good measure. Might as well pull out all the stops since a hundred dollars were on the line.

You weren’t sure what the score was by the time you made your way back up to your towel, but you didn’t make an effort to ask. What you did know, though, was that Wonwoo was getting frustrated. Even from where you were you could see that his jaw was clenched and his brows were furrowed.

The opposing team seemed to be doing just fine though, and you stopped to watch them high-five each other after Mingyu scored another point by slamming the ball over the net onto Wonwoo side of the court.

“Damn, nice one, Gyu!” you called out from where you were standing, giving him a big smile and thumbs up. It was sort of dorky, not to mention a cheap shot, but if you knew Wonwoo as well as you thought you did, it’d be the perfect thing to rile him up.

“Thanks, y/n!” he shouted back and winked, ignoring the weird look Hansol gave him. “It’s about time you started rooting for the winning team!”

You struggled not to laugh when you looked back over to the other side of the court and saw all three boys scowling at Mingyu. You didn’t even know why he needed you in the first place, he knew how to push their buttons so well already.

Wonwoo’s fists were clenched now, and he looked this close to tackling his best friend to the ground. The two of you weren’t even flirting with each other, not really, but Wonwoo was the most competitive person you knew and it wasn’t always the best color on him. For you to be cheering for the team that he’s not on, and for that team to be winning- there was no doubt in your mind that he was royally pissed. Not to mention, that you just so happened to be cheering for his attractive best friend who may or may not have mentioned having sex dreams about you once or twice in passing.

It was good, but it wasn’t enough. Soonyoung made some offhand comment about how close the scores were so you knew you needed to keep going. You turned your attention away from the game again and lowered yourself down on your stomach on top of your towel and casually undid the strings of your bikini top to “sunbathe”.

If anyone asked it was so you didn’t get tan lines on your back, it was something that a lot of women did. In reality, however, you didn’t give a shit about tan lines, you just wanted to see how Wonwoo would react.

You pulled out your book to read while you tanned, tuning back into the game every once and a while to see how it was going. You could hear Soonyoung and Seungkwan yelling at Wonwoo to ‘pay attention’ or ‘snap the fuck out of it’ and smiled to yourself, excited for what was to come.

After several more minutes, your bathing suit was almost dry and you were starting to fall asleep on your towel. The volleyball game was taking way longer than you anticipated and you just wanted Mingyu and Hansol to win already. You didn’t have any other ideas to distract your boyfriend so you hoped they could pull it off.

Then, what you would call a fucking miracle happened. You were still nearly dozing off on top of your book when a pink Frisbee landed on the sand right in front of your face.

“Sorry about that!” called the voice of its owner and you squinted to see him jogging over to you. A few of his friends weren’t far behind and they all congregated in a little group in front of your towel. They looked to be about your age, maybe a little older. “Sorry to wake you up,” the ringleader apologized again, but smiled like he wasn’t really that sorry.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, one hand holding your loose bikini to your chest, while the other handed the Frisbee back to smiling guy. “No worries, I didn’t mean to fall asleep anyway.”

“What’s your name?” Ringleader asked. “I’m Jeonghan, and these are some of my fraternity brothers.”

Of course. You should’ve guessed. They were all jacked, tan, and had an air of privilege about them that you couldn’t miss. They were objectively cute, sure, but nothing in comparison to your boyfriend playing volleyball behind you. Not to mention their pack mentality freaked you out a little.

“I’m y/n,” you said and held your free hand out to them to shake, still keeping your other hand on your bikini top so you wouldn’t flash them. “Are you guys on a holiday break or something?”

“Yeah, just trying to make the most out of our last few days.”

“You from around here?” another boy asked, not being subtle at all in the way he was eyeing you.

“No, we just took a little day trip,” you explained and cleared your throat, wondering how long they’d stick around and when Wonwoo was going to come over and dick you down out of jealousy.

“We?” Ringlea- Jeonghan asked, cocking his head to the side. “Are you here with your friends?”

“Her boyfriend, actually,” Wonwoo piped up calmly from behind you. You looked back and saw him standing a few feet behind your towel with his arms crossed. He could be annoying, but fuck if he didn’t have good timing.

“Oh-uh, well I was nice to meet you.” Jeonghan mumbled abruptly and nodded to his friends to get back to their Frisbee game. They were gone before you could even say goodbye back.

“Attracting all sorts of attention today, aren’t you, love?” Wonwoo sneered and knelt down beside you.

His words went straight to the heat between your legs and you turned over onto your back to get a better look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, daring him to challenge you.

“I think you do, y/n,” he continued. The way he whispered your name sent a shiver down your spine. “I mean, you’re practically naked in front of the whole beach right now.”

“I’m wearing a swimsuit.”

“You know what I mean. And all for what? To make me jealous? So I’d fuck you? Because you could’ve just asked, baby.”

You whimpered, but didn’t say anything and leaned up to kiss him, desperately wanting to feel his lips against yours. He leaned in too, but stopped just short of your mouth, pulling back a bit to look into your eyes. “I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.”

You moaned softly, wanting nothing more than for him to do exactly that. You weren’t even sure if you could wait to get home at this point, you wanted him inside of you now. He put a hand on each knee and spread your legs apart, whistling in awe at the wet spot on your bathing suit. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.”

“All because of you,” you panted, reaching out for him, but he pulled back.

“You know all of your teasing made me lose the game, right? I couldn’t focus because I was so distracted.” You nodded. “I was so fucking hard the whole match because of what you were doing”

And then your dumbass had to open your big mouth. “So Mingyu told you?”

Wonwoo pulled back, and gave you a confused look, clearly caught off guard. “Told me what?”

“Y/n, that was incredible, you were perfect!” Mingyu exclaimed as he ran up to you and Wonwoo, holding out a hundred dollar bill to you.

You winced as you took it, wishing you hadn’t said anything.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” Wonwoo demanded, even more frustrated than he had been a minute ago. “What were you incredible at?”

“Fucking distracting you, dude. I asked her if she’d be in on the bet with me for a cut of the winnings since you guys had more team members.”

Your boyfriend glared at you. “Is that true?”

“I mean, it’s just a game… and I thought it’d be fun,” you said quietly.

“That’s what you guys were talking about earlier, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, she didn’t need any convincing she was totally down-”

“Mingyu,” you interrupted, pinching the bridge of your nose, “please, if you have any mercy for my pussy please shut the fuck up.”

His face went scarlet and he shut his mouth without further comment.

“So that’s it?” Wonwoo asked, obviously not ready to drop the subject yet. “You’re just gonna sell out your own boyfriend that easy?”

“You said you didn’t want to be on a team with me!”

“Don’t turn this around on me! You’re the one who helped them cheat!”

“Oh I don’t know if I’d call it cheating,” Mingyu interjected again.

“Shut up, Mingyu!” you and Wonwoo both shouted.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Mingyu said quietly. “If I had known it was going to be this big of a deal I wouldn’t have asked her. I just thought I was being clever, that it’d be a fun way to beat you guys, but I’m sorry I went too far.”

Wonwoo sighed and ran a hand through his wet curls. “It’s fine. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

“So… we’re good?” Mingyu asked, holding out a hand to help Wonwoo up.

“Yeah, we’re good. Next time, though, we’re playing fair.”

“Deal.”

“Y/n, you still want to go swimming, love?” Wonwoo asked, turning back to you.

“We’re not- we’re not going home?” Despite everything you were still incredibly horny, and you’d been patiently waiting for Wonwoo to rail you for what felt like hours now.

“Not yet,” he said and helped you to your feet. “Let’s make the most of our beach day.”

“I think the rest of us are going to find an ice cream shop,” Mingyu added. “Winners are buying. Do either of you want anything?”

“No thanks, we’ll hang out here by ourselves for a while.” Wonwoo answered for the both of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked down to the water together and you relaxed, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin on yours. Only once you were out of Mingyu’s earshot did he lean down and whisper “your ass is going to be seven shades of red for that little stunt once we get home,” in your ear. Now it was your turn to be distracted.

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback)

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t 

shoot me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist

[s0ym1lk]

I finished Disco Elysium last night and have come to the conclusion that it is, ironically, about learning how to honor history while also letting it go.

Disco Elysium is set in a world drowning in history. You spend the whole time walking through a bombed-out city, exploring walls where people were lined up and shot, bunkers filled with propaganda, and monuments that were put up and torn down and put up again. The layers upon layers of history that you dig through in every encounter just overwhelms you.

Harry Du Bois is likewise drowning in his own personal history. When you start the game, you literally wake up in the 'ruins' of Harry's own personal country - the room he'd wrecked on his multi-day bender prior to starting the game. He clings to an outdated music style and an outdated celebrity that he models himself after. He worships his ex so much that his brain turns her into a god.

It's no surprise that the most joyful parts of the game are ones in which history is erased or made irrelevant. Harry's relationship with Kim, for example, has no history to it at all. While Kim knows that Harry is a self-destructive asshole, based on the aftermath of Harry's bender that he's able to witness, Kim also begins his relationship with Harry from a point where he's fundamentally a different person, who can and does make different choices than old Harry would havea. Every time Harry's past comes up, Kim is able to relate to him in a different and more positive way, simply because the old Harry and the new Harry are different people. Contrast this with Harry's interactions with his old partner Jean. Those interactions are really depressing, because they're so one-sided - Jean is left to shoulder all of the pain Harry caused to him, but when he tries to lash out, Harry doesn't understand. For example, when Jean tries to pull a mean prank by dressing up as the reporter Harry drove away, the joke goes completely over Harry's head, because Harry doesn't remember his past OR his old partner. Jean is stuck in a cycle of trauma and abuse that he's trying to perpetuate with his actions. Harry literally can't remember enough about himself to be a part of that anymore. That's why his relationship with Kim works so well in comparison - he can leave his past behind and become a better person who has healthier relationships.

Another place you see this quite well is in the storyline for the dance club at the church. The church itself reeks of history, and not in a good way. It's abandoned, worn-out, broken, and it has a giant stained-glass window of a woman who blanketed Elysium in terrible history and destroyed it, then convinced everyone that she was a saint. The history in that stained glass literally towers over you and forces you to cower beneath it. When you help the teens turn the church into a dance club, you disrupt all that. The power and sanctity of the church's history doesn't totally disappear, because the church is still there, but it fades into the background as it's overtaken by a new history. That new history extends to everyone present. It covers the teens, all of whom are either running from a bad past or leaving the people they were behind(you'll notice Disco Elysium has a lot of characters who have become different people than they used to be). It covers Harry, who has struggled to let go of the cool person he was in the days of disco, but ends up not just writing the new anodic music but busting a move to it. It covers Soona the programmer, who's trying to essentially come to terms with her history at Fortress Accident and move on from it. It's a really powerful image, to find the seed of the world's destruction in the church and to be concerned about that, but to then turn it into a bass track and dance to it joyfully anyway. Sure, the end of the world is coming. That kind of sucks. But in this joyful moment, who cares?

Look at Harry's former relationship with Dora. You spend all this time being triggered by things related to her, like chewing gum, the Dolores Dei references, and near the very end of the game finally have a dream where she turns into a god and leaves you. Harry is obviously an obsessive person. He obsesses about Dora and turns her into something larger than life, even though she tells him frankly that she's just a regular woman. Harry tries to cling to that history by getting her back. He gives her figurines that he remembered she would like. He tells her he's a better person and that they can make it work. He can try to kiss her. He can beg her not to go. She leaves anyway. Despite Harry's desperation, you can tell as the player that this is an unhealthy relationship, and that it's good that Dora left him. You can also see how her leaving triggered Harry's descent into brokenness, and how he never truly recovered from it because he couldn't let go. I don't think it's a coincidence that Harry only manages to face this history after he loses his memory. Some of that past had to be scraped away before he could face the truth and overcome it.

Finally, the reveal of the killer absolutely drives this point home. The whole game follows the traditional detective novel arc, where every detail is a Chekhov's gun leading to one big conclusion. The footprints, the eighth Hardie boy, the drugs, the smoker on the balcony, all of it. And the kicker is that it does all come together - but not in the way you want it to. Because most of the clues are smoke and mirrors. The killer is a sad old man you've never met before hiding on an island, clinging to (you guessed it!) the past. He's drowning in history and can't let go of it. If he feels totally irrelevant to the rest of the game, that's because he is. He doesn't matter! The world let go and moved on without him. The game strongly implies that it was this moving on, and not the old man's politics, that cause him to commit the murder. When he pulled the trigger, he wasn't really thinking about moralintern supremacy or being loyal to the communist revolution. He simply couldn't watch two people steeped in history choose to let it go and find happiness together in moving on. So he killed the merc in a fit of jealousy. Everything else you track down in the game is just people trying to mitigate the consequences of that murder by protecting each other.

History is important, and paying attention to it is how we learn from our mistakes. But what Disco Elysium doesn't want people to do is to get so obsessed with the past that we get stuck in it. You can't live in a bombed-out city or a trashed hotel room forever. You have to let it go.

You may ask, what about the pale, and the end of the world? To me, the game is literally manifesting existential dread as a parallel to the player's own understanding of our world and our limited existence. We know the world will end at some point. Elysium knows it literally - it's being slowly swallowed up bit by bit. We as the players know it metaphorically. We know that we get 100 years, give or take, to live. We know that the planet is slowly being destroyed. In a way, that's our history too. And so the game says to you, it doesn't matter. You should care, but don't get so caught up in caring that you forget to live. Ultimately it doesn't really matter that the world is ending. What matters is something smaller and more personal - that you care about the people around you, that you try to help where you can, and that you dance to anodic dance music while you have the chance.

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (trois)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violent behavior

life away from the kims resumed as normal and you warily readjusted to the boys’ presence in your life. although you gained their company, you also gained a new enemy. you should take extra care not to forget your place, as internal and external forces are constantly at work. the question is: do they work in or against your favor? the hours wind on, and strange occurrences only get stranger. after all, ichabod is most awake in the dark.

-----------------------------------------—————

In your dream, you saw Jimin, but he was not the same person that you had met earlier that day. 

He stood atop Ichabod Chapel, combing through his black hair with his hand and looking down at you with brown eyes. But rather than the warm, twinkling eyes you recognized, his glistened in the moonlight, cold and hardened like topaz. 

Despite the distance, you somehow managed to see him clearly. You could see his smile, warm and affectionate, completely unlike the gaze in his eyes. He looked as though he couldn’t care less about what was happening around him--his sole focus was on you.

He was dressed in pitch black clothes from head to toe, which were soaked in some foreign substance.

 The clothes clung to him in a way that should have been uncomfortable, but he looked as though he couldn’t be bothered to change. In fact, he looked as though he relished in the substance.

Strangest of all were the magnificent black wings that rested on his back, curving their way through the shadows to reach up toward the night sky.

You eyes shot open as you woke with a start. It was still early, early enough that you could have gotten an extra hour or so of sleep, but you decided to just stay awake. Your dream had been much too unsettling...

You played around on your phone, internally debating your response to Jimin before typing something and sending it.

That’s so kind of you. I’m glad we met as well :)

You heard your mother’s knock on the door some time later. With a sigh, you lifted yourself from the warmth and safety of your sheets, getting prepared to brave the day.

--------------------------------------———————

The moment you entered the upperclassmen building, you were yanked to the side and pulled into an empty classroom. You looked up in alarm but relaxed when you saw who it was.

Mana gripped you with something akin to fear, glancing around suspiciously to make sure the coast was clear. Once they were satisfied, they closed the door and hugged you tightly. “(Y/N), you whore! You have no idea how worried I was. How dare you not text me last night? How long did you spend over there? What happened?”

You smiled at your best friend’s antics, their overprotectiveness chipping away at your lingering unease from this morning. 

You recounted your experience at the Kim household, telling them about the beautiful, secluded home in the woods, the brothers’ actions, their graceful talent of a mother, and the demanding presence of their father.

“Honestly, I was a little scared.” you recounted, sliding your bag off your shoulder. “There were so many things to be wary of, but I just spent the whole evening being as polite as possible.” 

They nodded along, engrossed in your story.

“Mayor Kim is seriously intimidating, and Mrs. Kim read my fortune—said something about power and being careful of the people around me--and the library, Mana, you would have loved it-”

“Hold on, girl! Back up.” Mana interrupted. “The mayor’s wife said what?”

“Oh,” you slowed down. “Mrs. Kim touched my palm and said I held a lot of wisdom and power, I guess within me, and that I should be wary of those around me because they may try to take it.”

They gave you a pointed look. “I knew it. The second I saw Jimin look at the empty seat next to you from the front of the classroom, I got a bad feeling. To think the warning would come from his own mother...”

“What does that mean?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“I think you should just continue to be wary of the Kims...” Mana murmured, crossing their arms. “I know we always play it safe, but the closer to them you get, the more peril you’ll be in.”

You sat down in an empty chair. The possibilities for being hurt in this town were certainly far from rare, after all. But for them to claim the brothers would try to hurt you, even though you did nothing to provoke them...?

“Mana, do you think they might try to do something to me?”

They shrugged. “I’ve said what I felt I needed to say.”

“But steal my ‘power’?” You held up two fingers and scrunched them for air quotations. “What could the most influential people in town possibly want with me or my supposed power? What would they even do with it?”

What power do I have?

Mana looked at you concernedly while you pondered your own question.

Power? To you, it was overrated. Power was nothing but an elite show of force, all over the world but especially in this town. It was used and lorded over others, and ripped families apart. You did not consider yourself very powerful. 

You remembered your obedience toward Mr. Kim in spite of your fear and suspicion, and the way you had to rub your mother’s back as she heaved up everything she ate on the side of the road after leaving their house.

Yeah...power was currently far from your grasp.

You shrugged. You were going to follow Mrs. Kim’s warning either way; after all, nothing good came of being too expressive or open in this town.

Mana turned away from you as you both heard the bell ring for the fifteen minute warning. You picked up your bag as they led the way out the door and up the stairs toward your classroom.

When you stepped into the door, you glimpsed Jimin sitting at his desk with a disturbed frown on his face. The moment he met eyes with you, however, he was all smiles.

“(Y/N)!”

You walked down the other side of the aisle and sat in your seat, turning toward him with a smile. “Morning, Jimin.”

“Good morning! Thanks for replying to my text! How was your rest? I hope you got much more sleep than yesterday night.” His eyes wouldn’t move away from yours, all big and awestruck like a puppy’s.

You nodded. “Of course! Thanks for worrying, though. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did. I’ll always be concerned for your safety and well-being, (Y/N). If you feel like you ever need somewhere to go or someone to confide in, feel free to reach out to me, okay?” 

His tone turned strangely serious in comparison to how he greeted you moments before, you thought. Still, you gave him a small smile. 

“Sure, Jimin. I really appreciate your concern and the offer...”

He beamed and nodded, turning to give his greetings to Mana, who seemed surprise that they were being spoken to at all. As they conversed, you reached into your bag and pulled out your materials for the morning lesson.

“Did you end up choosing a mythological creature for your project yet?” Jimin asked.

Their mouth twitched upward. “My partner and I decided to research nymphs...I don’t know too much about them, he pretty much chose our project topic.”

They reached over and ruffled your hair. “You lucked out with (Y/N) here, she really knows her stuff.”

You scoffed and swatted their hand away from your head. “You mean I lucked out by not being partnered with your lazy self? You’re absolutely right.”

Jimin watched the two of you bicker back and forth, fighting the urge to smile.

The teacher entered the room, placing her materials on her desk. You and your peers silenced as you prepared yourself for the long day of classes.

Right here, surrounded by your community, your classmates, and your best friend...yes, this was the time where you felt the most normal. 

Deep down, you knew you wanted to leave Ichabod--without a doubt. But you feared the outside world all the same. 

The people outside wouldn’t be able to understand the things you had went through. They would giggle away your paranoia and reassure you of your safety, having no perception of the actual dangers you faced. 

They didn’t know the things that could set you off, the things that the people around you could understand with the simple exchange of a glance.

But you quieted the thoughts of your precarious future as the teacher began her lesson, falling into the routine once more.

----------------------------------------——————

Before the Kims even stepped foot into town, it was the Augustuses who ruled Ichabod with an iron fist. Their family came from old money. They had lived here for generations upon generations, their stature being crucial to the survival of the town. They oversaw the law enforcement of Ichabod. 

Nearly thirty years ago, when the town was still overrun with violence, miscreants, and chaos, the Augustuses did nothing to keep the peace. They sat from their high horse with other prominent families and watched the middle and lower classes struggle.

The then-head of the family, Rufus Augustus, was especially known for ignoring his duties.

Then Kim Moonsik stepped into town and established his position as mayor and, more importantly, as a servant of the divine Wylynne.

Once he saw how poorly Rufus acted, he fought to remove him from his position.

The man was too proud, too unwilling to give his position and title up to this “holy”, foreign newcomer. 

Mayor Kim had wanted to execute Rufus. It was his son, Aloysius, who had gotten down on both knees and begged for his safety. 

Two months later, both Rufus and his wife were sent to Wylynne as divine warriors, leaving the new head and his family to take his place.

The Augustus family were now the Kims’ right hand men: their enforcers and watchful guards within the walls of their kingdom.

The current head, Aloysius, was the chief of police, his wife, Domitia, a commander of her own squad.

Their daughter was Kim Namjoon’s aide, the vice president of the student body.

While the majority of the citizens of Ichabod feared the Kims, there were those select few who would cross the line between fear and respect. These subjects knew well enough to keep their distance away from that dangerous family, but revered them with an eery obsession.

Aemilia Augustus was one of those select few.

She was raised in luxury and privilege. The luxury of complete ease in her environment and the privilege of knowing that, no matter what she did, no normal citizen in this town was powerful enough to go against her or her parents. 

She grew up adhering to the law. The laws of Ichabod specifically, as they would apply to no other.

Aemilia thought of herself as town royalty. She essentially was, considering her family was only a step down the hierarchy from the Kims. 

Her parents were, in short, bootlickers. They trembled underneath their cloaks every monthly meeting, clutching the sophomore’s arms with grips strong enough to rival coconut crabs as they waited to see which poor, unfortunate soul Mayor Kim would call out next.

But when he called them in the middle of the night, ordering them to dispatch officers to “discipline” yet another citizen, they readily responded as if they were family friends carrying out an old grudge on behalf of the other.

Yet another reason why Aemilia found her parents’ subservience so utterly pathetic. They were subjugated to become nothing more than mindless, fearful followers.

She found her grandfather’s actions absolutely foolish. The opportunity for power and reform was well within his grasp, but his narrow mindedness prevented him from making the proper preparations. 

She did not want her parents’ life for herself, nor did she see it anywhere in her future. 

Aemilia wanted to rule rather than be ruled. She had no intention of leaving Ichabod--rather, she saw herself marrying one of Mayor Kim’s sons, the best son, and ruling beside him as his queen.

All of the students at Ichabod Academy knew her name and prestige. She felt that she had the entire school underneath her beck and call. 

She never had to explicitly say what she wanted, because everyone else was already prepared to grant her wish. After all, who was brave, or stupid, enough to go against her? 

Imagine her surprise when she walked into the cafeteria the next day and spotted you, seated with Kim Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Kim Jungkook, smiling up a storm.

A little nobody doing something no one, not even she, had ever gotten to--she’d never heard your name before, she thought to herself, whispering to one of her friend’s to tell her who you were.

You were driving a nail into her carefully crafted plans.

And if you thought you would get away with it, you clearly had another thing coming.

-------------------------------------———————

Your cheeks were starting to hurt.

All you had wanted to do was go get lunch with Mana and Jimin. You skipped breakfast this morning, as usual, and your stomach was growling throughout the majority of morning classes.

When you had jumped up to run off to the cafeteria, you slammed into Taehyung, who had been waiting for you by the door. He in turn backed up into Jungkook, who was standing silently behind him. 

The long, black haired boy caught his older brother with one hand and prevented you both from falling. 

Apologies spilled out of your mouth and Taehyung grinned his boxy grin, apologizing for scaring you. He pounced on Jimin soon after, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“Jimin told me about you guys going to the cafeteria for lunch! I really miss the three of us eating together, and getting to know you yesterday was so much fun, (Y/N)! Would you mind if we joined you...?”

He turned those puppy eyes on you and you found yourself with no reason to refuse. You nodded yes, despite feeling Mana’s laser vision tearing into the back of your skull.

Thus, here you are.

If entering the cafeteria with one Kim yesterday caused some whispers, you knew today would cause full on conversations.

You smiled awkwardly at the brothers with your lunch tray in front of you, suddenly having lost your appetite. Then you clapped your hands together.

“Ah! How rude of me--Taehyung, Jungkook, please meet Mana. They’ve been my best friend since childhood. Mana, this is Jungkook and Taehyung.”

Mana waved in a good natured manner at the boys. You tensed as you watched the interaction. 

Taehyung eyed them suspiciously, and you surmised that he was giving them the same “test” that you received yesterday afternoon. Thankfully, his lips split into that broad grin once more as he leapt across the table to pull them into a hug. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” He cheered.

They grunted, sending you a look of bewilderment over his shoulder. “Yeah, you too...?”

Jungkook mumbled out his greetings soon after.

After Jimin finished scolding Taehyung and he calmed down, the conversation took off. It was hard not to feel relaxed around Jimin and Taehyung together, for their exuberant natures made for fun conversations. You even felt Mana lowering their guard a bit, cracking some jokes that had the four of you disappearing underneath the tables in giggles.

Once again, you were almost able to forget what life was like in this town. You slipped into a comfortable sense of normalcy, picturing yourself as five school friends who had recently met.

Nevertheless, you never should have let your guard down. You never should have forgotten your place.

And by the time you did remember, it was far too late.

A cold substance spilling over you shocked you into reality, your vision obscured by a bubbly, brown trail dripping down your back, over your hair, and landing in your lap, staining your skirt.

The cafeteria, once boisterous, went completely silent. 

You heard a stifled snicker from behind you just as someone else began to speak.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

You turned around and spotted none other than Aemilia Augustus, standing there with her spotless uniform and lunch tray held firmly in her hands.

 Behind her were her two best friends, Brooklyn and Constance...one of whom did not have a lunch tray.

It appeared to be on the floor directly behind you, half of its contents spilled over your back and the other half over your head.

“My dear friend wasn’t watching where she was going and ended up tripping.” Aemilia continued, turning around to face one of them. “Constance, why aren’t you apologizing?”

The blonde had one hand over her mouth and another behind her back. She removed her hand from her mouth, which you presumed was meant to hide her smile, and stepped forward. 

She bowed a little. “I’m so sorry. I can get someone to pay for your laundry bill, or I could buy you lunch next time?”

You felt Mana's eyes on you, but surprisingly, the first person you looked at was not Mana or Constance, nor was it Aemilia. 

You met eyes with Jungkook across the table. His dark eyes glinted dangerously, glued onto Constance and her every action. Taehyung and Jimin shared his look, glaring at the blonde. Taehyung’s hand clenched into a fist on the table, crushing the soda can he held in his hand.

The brothers met your gaze, waiting to see what you would do next.

You blinked the brown liquid out of your eyes and turned to her with a politically polite smile. “It’s fine, everyone makes mistakes. I’m pretty clumsy myself. There’s no need to pay for anything, I can just wash my uniform when I get back home. All is forgiven.” 

How extremely like you, the brothers thought. How extremely like you to not draw attention to yourself at the behest of these hags.

The whispers picked back up in the cafeteria and Aemilia sent you a smile right back. She walked over to the table, stepping into the space between you and Jimin. 

She gently set her tray onto the table, picked up the napkins on your tray, and proceeded to wipe some of it off your face.

“I’m glad you forgave Constance for her mistake, but still, sitting in a dirty uniform all day probably won’t be comfortable.” She spoke placatingly. 

You were momentarily frozen, mystified by her treating you like a child. At least you could see clearly again.

She put the napkin down. “Why don’t you come with me to the student council office for now? We can get you a new uniform there.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go that far-”

“She’s right, you don’t want to have to sit in sticky food for the rest of the day. I’ll come with you,” Mana interrupted with a tone that left no room for permission. 

Mana stood, pulling you up with them. They picked up both your bags, kicked the tray back in the blonde’s direction, and followed Aemilia’s lead out the cafeteria and away from the callous whispers.

As you walked out, Constance smirked, squeezing the Pepsi can hidden behind her back. 

After the three of you left, Jimin slowly lifted his gaze, casting it onto Aemilia’s friends.

They scrambled to clean up the mess, bowing multiple times. 

Before Brooklyn and Constance could scurry away, however, Taehyung lifted a hand, pointing his finger at the blonde. He bent it in a “come here” gesture. She inched over, trying and failing to hide her giddy expression. 

She clutched the tray of trash in her hands, her heart pounding in her ears as the younger sophomore leaned toward her. 

He whispered something in her ear, a malicious smile creeping its way onto his face. 

Constance paled and she stilled. The tray she was holding went crashing to the floor. 

Jimin smirked as he looked at the filth, living and non-living, and picked his bag up, swinging it over his shoulder. Jungkook scoffed and glared at them, prompting them to finally leave. 

Brooklyn picked up Aemilia’s tray and pulled at Constance. The blonde managed to unfreeze herself and walked away trembling. What she was trembling from--fear or admiration--no one could tell. 

The brothers looked at each other and nodded. They stood in unison and left the cafeteria.

-----------------------------------------—————

You had thought yesterday was going to be the most eventful day of your life, but clearly, Wylynne had more in store for you than you could ever imagine.

Not only was your uniform left a mess, but your stomach was growling louder than ever, considering you had been too shocked to eat your meal.

You traipsed down the hallway, cringing as you felt the stickiness of the soda travel from your thighs to your socks.

Now that you were no longer in the heat of the moment, you re-examined your response. You seriously doubted just how clean you’d be able to get in the bathroom. You were honestly thankful for Aemilia’s offer and for Mana insisting you take it.

Of course, you could have gone the rest of the day in your soda soaked mess of a uniform out of sheer pride, but now you wouldn’t have to.

Mana kept you right beside them as Aemilia walked ahead, her strawberry blonde pony tail swinging gently with each step she took.

Aemilia Augustus reeked of luxury and privilege. She did so in a way that few could ever come after her for it, you observed.

She exuded grace like Mrs. Kim did, but hers was different. She looked as though she felt she earned everything she got. 

Rather than Mrs. Kim’s gentle elegance, Aemilia was righteous and indifferent. She knew her place, and reveled in it.

“That witch has something to do with this,” Mana harshly and quickly whispered in your ear. “Now you’ve done it. You’ve incurred the wrath of Strawberry Shortcake and her she-devils.”

“It’s fine,” you whispered back. “We know she didn’t do it, and she’s offering to give me a new uniform before class starts. It’s fine.”

You cut Mana off with a look, internally suppressing a rising negative attitude. There were too many eyes on you, too many ears around you.

Aemilia led the two of you to the third floor, walking until she reached a room at the end of the hall. 

She pulled out a key and put it in the door, unlocking it. “Usually, we aren’t supposed to be in here during school hours to ensure that we’re working diligently in classes, but as the student body vice president, I have a key.” She winked and swung open the door.

“Now about that-oh!”

Aemilia stopped short and you walked behind her, peering over her shoulder. 

Several windows lined the room, lighting it up with the midday sun. It was moderately sized, like that of a classroom. A wooden table set up in the middle with black, rolling chairs pushed up against the edge of the table. 

Kim Namjoon sat at the head of the table, several papers spread out around him and glasses perched on his nose. He looked up, peeved at the intrusion.

“Aemilia...to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The strawberry blonde smiled. “Good afternoon, Mr. President. I have a student here who went through a bit of an accident at lunch. We’re just coming to get her a change of clothes.”

Namjoon made no reaction when he spotted you behind Aemilia. He nodded at her, gave his greetings to you and Mana with a small smile, and turned back to the paperwork.

Aemilia waved, implying the two of you could follow her in. The floor was made of a royal blue, lush carpet, and you winced as you dirtied it with your wet shoes. “What are your sizes, (Y/N)?” She questioned.

“I’m a (size) for the shirt and (size) for the skirt.” You quietly stated.

She nodded and walked to the back of the room and disappeared around a corner into what you presumed was an atrium of sorts. You heard a door open and the shuffling of clothes.

Mana entered, sitting on one of the seats lined up against the wall. You stood by one of the walls and peered out of the nearest window.

In the distance, you could see the dark leaves of the forest trees peeking over the tops of buildings and homes. Different students were making their way across the quad, heading back to afternoon classes. You sighed and placed a hand over your stomach.

“Here you are!” Aemilia returned with a uniform shirt and skirt in your size as well as a brand new pack of socks on a hanger. “Usually, the emergency uniforms cost students some additional funds, but you won’t have to worry about paying for it. This one’s on the house.”

You took the hanger gingerly. “Please, you’ve already done so much. The least I can do is pay. I’ll be making it out to the student council?”

Aemilia shook her head. “You really don’t have to, it was Constance’s fault. I’ll do you this favor for her.”

You smiled. “I insist. Please tell me how much is it.”

Aemilia leered at you, her eyes searching for whatever you possessed that made you think you even had the right to challenge her.

This bitch.

“If you insist! It’ll be $30. You can make it out via cash or check to the student council. It’s due by the end of the week.” 

You nodded and gave both students a bow. “I’m so sorry to have disturbed your day. I’ll be going off to class now.”

Aemilia returned your courtesy and Namjoon gave you a small wave.

You locked arms with Mana, left the student council room and headed to the bathroom. 

-----------------------------------------—————

“I’m telling you! There’s something so messed up about that girl!” Mana complained loudly as you stood in the bathroom. You unbuttoned your shirt and proceeded to clean soda residue off your chest, arms, and legs.

Ichabod Academy consisted of three types of bathrooms: men’s restrooms, women’s restrooms, and a gender neutral restroom. There was only one and it was jammed into the basement, and it was your and Mana’s safe space because hardly anyone else ever came down here.

“Even if there is, what am I going to do, call her out on it?” You muttered as you took off your socks, wiping as much of the stickiness as possible off with a warm, wet napkin.

You dried your arms and threw the rest of the napkins away, then went into a stall and took your clothes off completely, changing into the new uniform. “I don’t have the mental energy required to play her mind games today. How much time do I have left?”

“Fifteen minutes.” They said, unlocking and locking their phone. “No, but you seriously haven’t heard of her? Of what she does to people who get too close to the Kims?”

“There’s been someone else getting close to the Kims?” You questioned dryly, pulling the socks on.

“Got, as in past tense, love. Anyone who associates with the Kims excessively, according to her, in any form or fashion has died by her hand.” Mana said. “She practically worships the ground they walk on.”

“She wouldn’t be the only one,” you replied nonchalantly.

“You remember Grace Ster?”

“The girl from our freshman class who left to be homeschooled?” You frowned, buttoning up your shirt.

“Yes! The only reason why she was sent home is because Aemilia blew a fit and ended up tormenting the poor thing until she didn’t want to show up anymore!” Mana said. 

“All Grace did was hold hands with Kim Taehyung. In drama class. For a skit!” You could see them throwing their arms up in disbelief through the crack of the stall door. “That’s why I had you go along with her. If you kept being so stubborn, she might have publicly humiliated you even more in the cafeteria. I wanted to make sure she didn’t get the chance.” 

“Oh...thanks, Mana.” You smiled slightly. 

You walked out the stall and folded your dirty uniform, placing it inside your book bag. You didn’t really have a response, not necessarily shocked by Aemilia’s nature. Something had told you she was different than the persona she made an effort to display.

You washed your hands and slung your bag over your shoulder. “We should just get back before we’re late.”

Mana patted you on the back as you dejectedly walked back to class.

-----------------------------------------—————

When you stepped into the classroom, you got a number of looks and comments, people whispering under their breath about how you dared to anger the queen bee. 

Jimin had, once more, been waiting for you. “(Y/N)! Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” You said. “Aemilia gave me a new uniform to change into.”

As you sat down, your stomach growled loudly. 

Jimin’s eyes snapped back up to meet yours. “You didn’t get to eat, did you? She dragged you out before you could even touch your food.”

You shrugged. “I’ll just eat after school. It’s not the first time I’ve gone without eating and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

Jimin eyed you worriedly as Mrs. Hargrove burst into the room, full of nervous energy as usual. “Good afternoon, students!”

You and your classmates chorused greetings in return. You internally sighed at how long of a day this was turning out to be. 

Jimin continued to fret over you throughout the rest of afternoon classes. You kept reassuring him that you were fine. No, you didn’t need anything from the vending machine, yes you would tell him if you got too hungry.

You reminded yourself that he wasn’t Mana or one of your other classmates--you wouldn’t be able to tell him off, even if you kind of wanted to.

The end of the school day finally arrived and you walked out the double doors between Mana and Jimin.

Jimin pulled you toward him. His brothers stood several feet away from the rest of the student body, watching as Driver Bin pulled up to the corner.

“(Y/N).” Jimin smiled at you, but the look in his eyes was serious. “Remember, you’re much, much stronger than you think you are.” 

He reached his hand down to gently squeeze at yours, and held onto your hand for a bit more before letting it go. “Those petty people are nothing compared to you.”

He let go of your hand and walked toward his four brothers, who began climbing into the vehicle. Hoseok and Taehyung lifted their arms to wave goodbye, and you lifted yours in a half-hearted wave as they pulled away.

You stepped to the side and on one of the benches outside of the school. Mana stood next to you, leaning against a pillar.

You eyed students warily as they linked arms to walk home together in bunches or ran to the curve of the street in front of the school to hop into their parent’s cars. 

A glossy, strawberry blonde ponytail soon caught your attention as it hit the light of the afternoon sun. 

You watched Aemilia walk toward a gray car resting beside the curb, her hair perfect as usual. She waved farewell to her friends and made eye contact with you over their shoulders.

The girl glanced at you. Her eyes were teeming with disgust, but all she did was smile at you as she bent down to sit in the car.

Should I be scared? You thought to yourself as her driver closed the door. They drove away, heading toward the Augustus residence at the center of the city.

Mana popped a bubble of their chewing gum. “(Y/N), your mom’s here.”

You lifted your head and spotted your mother’s familiar car making its way down the pickup line. 

You stood up, brushing off the back of your skit and walked with Mana to the car. When Mana entered the backseat, your mother scoffed with a smile. “What’s this?”

They beamed and blinked rapidly at your mother. “Oh please, Aunty (M/N), won’t you take this poor child home?”

You giggled as your mom rolled her eyes. “Just put your seatbelt on, Manareyyn.”

Mana gasped and hushed her. “Not the full name, Aunty! Am I a complete stranger to you?”

You laughed, feeling relaxed in the presence of your loved ones.

When you got home, you had the interesting combination of leftover takeout and your mother’s cooking for a meal. 

You put both school uniforms in the wash and informed your mother of what happened at school. She prepared the funds for the council and handed the check to you. 

You went upstairs and took a shower, washed your hair, and completed some homework assignments.

Soon enough, you both turned in for the night.

-----------------------------------------—————

Later that evening at the Kim residence, Namjoon stood outside of Jimin’s room. The younger boy had summoned him and the rest of their siblings for some kind of conference, but he wasn’t keen on staying too long.

He sighed and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Jimin’s voice sounded from the other side. Namjoon twisted the doorknob and pushed it open.

The rest of the brothers were already in the room, he noted, seated on Jimin’s king sized bed.  

He shrugged in response to their irritated gazes and climbed onto the mattress.

“Now that everyone’s here,” Taehyung stated, side-eyeing Namjoon, “we can properly begin our discussion.”

“How long is this going to take?” Hoseok interrupted. “I have several assignments that need to be completed, and dances to choreograph.”

“Yes, and I have stacks of paperwork I need to finish for student council.” Namjoon sighed.

Jimin leaned back. “You don’t necessarily have to be here-”

Hoseok leapt up, walking over to the door. 

“-unless, of course, you wish to know how to help our angel.”

The senior stopped in his tracks and looked over at Jimin, gaze darkening.

“I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t help (Y/N),” Jungkook said, playing a game on his phone. “Namjoon hyung said that she needed to come to us on her own.”

“I still stand by that statement. The more we pressure her, the more she’ll back away.” Namjoon coolly replied. “She’ll come find us, of her own volition, eventually.” 

“Then what are you talking about?” Hoseok asked.

“It appears that people at school are mistaken about who deserves the most respect from them,” Taehyung said. 

“Your subordinate stepped out of line today, Namjoon hyung.” Jimin followed.

The older boy shifted his gaze onto his younger brothers. He thought back to today’s lunch period when (Y/N) and her friend entered the student council room. The girl had shifted uncomfortably where she stood, and he thought he’d heard the faint sound of a stomach growling.

Hoseok scoffed at his silence and turned to look at him. “Don’t tell me it was the Augustus bitch. I told you to throw her away ages ago.”

“No, it was one of her underlings,” Namjoon stated, recalling the girls’ conversation. “The blonde airhead in love with Taehyung, Constance. She must have ‘accidentally’ spilled her lunch all over (Y/N), no doubt directed by Aemilia herself.”

Taehyung glowered at the reminder. When he leaned over to whisper into Constance’s ear, the idiot was smiling as if it was the best day of her life. The acrid smell of her perfume made him gag. It nearly suffocated him. 

It was nothing like (Y/N)’s. Her scent caressed him from afar and washed over him when they were close, promising warmth and consolation.

Her scent was probably ruined by the stunt that scum pulled in the cafeteria.

When he saw Constance holding the soda can, he’d wanted to reach his hand around her neck and-

“Ah, I see.” Namjoon smiled, his realization coming full force. “So, you want to prepare a lesson of sorts.”

Jimin nodded. “People need to be well aware of how to treat (Y/N) before and especially after she takes her place by our side. This can a good teaching moment.”

“Okay,” Hoseok hummed. “And how are you going to go about doing that?”

“Like Namjoon hyung said, we can’t directly interfere without it being too obvious.” Taehyung said. “But-”

“-there’s no reason as to why we can’t distribute due punishment.” Jungkook finished, his lips twitching into a smile.

Namjoon grinned, nodding. “How about the three of you tell me everything you saw in the cafeteria this afternoon...spare no details.”

-----------------------------------------—————

Chance Pierre was a quiet kid. He never bothered anybody and preferred to focus on his studies.

Students often found him tutoring a classmate in between classes or reading in the library, and they nicknamed him the freshmen class’ Kim Namjoon. Not that they could say it so loudly around the guy’s younger brother, Kim Jungkook.

Chance Pierre dreamed of becoming rich and influential enough to come back to the town, save the people inside, and burn the Kims to the ground.

He wanted to find a way out of Ichabod using his intellect. He would appeal to Mayor Kim, explain how he hoped to bring excellence to the town by pursuing his academic career and spreading the word about Wylynne and all of the moon’s grace.

Surely, the mayor would let him take his intellectual influence outside. And he would be able to escape the hellish nightmare that was this town.

Thankfully, he and Jungkook were not in the same class. Even though Chance was at the top of his specific class, if he wanted to place first in the entire freshman class, he would eventually have to confront the youngest of the Kims. A conflict he’d been readily avoiding.

Still, despite his academic prestige, he was still what high schoolers would call a “nerd”. He was bullied by his peers, the same peers that he wanted to spare. They mocked him for his financial status, for his intellect. The goddess forbid he ever share his dream of leaving Ichabod, for they would mock him for that as well.

Chance entered his home and it was quiet, as usual. His parents worked late hours and he often had no one to talk to. The spirits in the walls were his friends, he liked to joke.

He took his shoes off and just as he was about to turn to go upstairs, something was thrown over his head. 

His vision went dark and he immediately began to struggle. He kicked and fought, his breaths rapidly increasing. The inside of the material was coated in what smelled like bleach and alcohol.

Chloroform.

Chance tried to hold his breath, cursing himself for struggling earlier, but he only delayed the inevitable. The boy’s movements slowed and his assailant pulled the bag around his head tighter and tighter until he blacked out.

Hours later, the police station was visited by his mother in the early morning, the woman hysterically crying and clutching onto Chance’s discarded book bag as she reported her son’s abduction.

-----------------------------------------—————

You were awoken by your mother entering your room. You looked up at her inquisitively, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. 

You both had several hours of rest left, so why...?

She wordlessly approached your bed and lifted the covers, and you scooted backward to give her space. She lay down next to you, slipping her arm under your head.

You felt her press a kiss to your forehead. She started playing with your hair and humming a little, like she used to do when you were little. You drifted back to sleep in the comfort of her arms.

Yet in the morning, she was gone again, off to work an early shift at the hospital. 

It was a gray, rainy day today. 

Mana’s dad had been the one to take you to school that morning, and both he and his child chuckled as they saw you running out the door with a clothing bag and your book bag in the rain. You had entered the car squealing from the cold water droplets.

When you walked into the building, you had almost expected another horrible, suspicious “accident”.

If only that had been the case.

You and Mana entered the lobby to find your classmates gathering around the school bulletin board, where another missing poster had been put up.

A freshman. He’d been taken sometime last night, you gathered from the horde of students in front of you. 

The boy looked slightly familiar to you; he was probably someone you were accustomed to passing in the halls.

You sighed, your heart falling in your chest. That was probably why your mother was clinging to you in your sleep this morning...

You met eyes with Mana’s, whose own flashed with sadness and anger. 

There was no telling where this kid was going to show up again. If he was lucky, he would make it back to his family in one piece. If not...

The double doors opened again, bringing in an icy breeze with them, and the halls instantly silenced. You turned away from the crowd and watched as the Kim brothers walked in. 

Jungkook strolled along with his head held high and headphones in his ears, indifferent to all the stares. 

Namjoon walked through the students, smirking as they parted for him with Hoseok, calm as can be, a couple of feet behind him. 

Contrary to yesterday’s kind and bubbly energy, Taehyung had a dangerous glower on his face. Jimin was expressionless, his eyes glued forward as the brothers made their way to their respective buildings.

If they noted the amount of students surrounding the bulletin board, they certainly did not show it. There was no sign of concern, or pain anywhere in their expression.

This was why the Kims, while so close, felt so distant from the rest of the student body. 

It’s one thing to live in a town like Ichabod and experience the horrible things that happen here. It’s another thing to refuse to look deeper and question everything around you.

It’s another thing to live here and think that these types of occurrences are alright. 

You shivered. Yes, you remind yourself. This is the atmosphere. This is the place I am in.

You were not in a normal high school or a normal town. The law of your land simply could not compare with that of anywhere else.

Never far behind them, Aemilia Augustus entered, her posse at her back. She followed the Kims, a serene, pleased smile on her face. 

No doubt she had knowledge of what had happened to that freshman, but she would never tell.

She passed by you and Mana, looking you up and down.

That one glance told you more than anything you had gathered in your conversation yesterday.

This is the difference between us, it proclaimed. I am safe on the inside, while you are disposable on the outside. 

You are nothing. 

Aemilia walked past the two of you, continuing on her way to class. Brooklyn and Constance followed behind her, staring dead ahead. 

The blonde was far from her usual picture perfect attire--her uniform was wrinkled, she was dragging her feet, and her eyes were red and puffy. She made no move to look at you or Mana, seemingly caught up in her thoughts.

Soon after they left, movement in the halls returned to normal as students walked to their classes. At some point, you finally forced yourself to move. 

The chill from the rain and wind settled in your bones and you shivered on your way to class.

The teacher had not arrived yet, as usual. Your classmates didn’t even have the heart to discuss rumors or joke around. Every movement seemed to break the silence.

You walked down the aisle and sat next to Jimin, waving at him in greeting. He gave you a small smile in return. You silently took your books out your bag, not wanting to bother him anymore after this morning’s display.

The cold couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Your shivers persisted and within a few moments, you were shaking so badly you couldn’t hold your pencil straight.

Mana sent you a concerned look but you waved them off, circling your finger to tell them to turn back around.

You put your writing utensil down and tried to hold your own hand still when you felt Jimin shift next to you.

He caught sight of your trembling fingers and he removed his school cardigan, handing it to you. 

You tried to refuse his offer, pushing the fabric back into his hold, but he spread it out, draped it over your shoulder, and lifted your hand to slip one of your arms through.

What is it with people thinking I don’t know how to take care of myself? You thought as you gently pulled your arms from his hand, slipping them into the cardigan and pulled it closed. 

He watched with a satisfied smile as it draped down your sides and shifted in his seat to resume his staring ahead.

You thought back to the other night. 

His gaze was just as caring, just as frigid as the one from your dream. 

You shivered again, hiding it by shifting in your seat. The class sat in silence until your first period teacher walked in. Without another word, she quickly began her lesson.

------------------------------------------------------

During lunch, Mana had to go to a meeting with one of the teachers, and Jimin and his brothers were nowhere to be found (not that you were dying to sit with them), so you took the opportunity to clear your debt with the student council.

You walked up to the third floor and went to the end of the hallway, fiddling with the paper and clothing bag in your hands. As you approached the door, you tentatively turned the knob and found that it was still locked.

You were contemplating sliding the envelope under the door when a voice sounded out from behind you. 

“What have we here?”

You turned and found Kim Namjoon leaning against the wall behind you. He didn’t have his glasses on today, but wore a playful and righteous look on his face. 

“(Y/N) ah, it’s wonderful to see you. I see Jiminie is still making sure to take good care of you.” He smiled in a good natured manner and you flushed, remembering the sweater your classmate practically dressed you in himself.

“Yeah...it’s been really chilly,” you muttered. You bowed slightly in greeting. “Good morning.”

“How have you been?”

“I’m alright. I didn’t want to bother, I just have the uniform I borrowed yesterday and the money I owe the council.”

Namjoon put his leg down, gently kicking off the wall and approached you. He flicked his hand toward the door. “Oh, is that so? Why didn’t you come in?”

“The door was locked-” You watched in surprise as Namjoon opened the door easily, without having pulled out a key. “...or not, I suppose.”

I must not have twisted the door hard enough because of all the stuff in my hands...

“Come on in.”

You entered the room cautiously. Namjoon took his place at the head of the table, placing his bag at his feet. “The uniforms go in the closet in the atrium, around that corner.”

You nodded and walked the same way Aemilia went yesterday. 

There didn’t appear to be much in the atrium--there were two restrooms, a vending machine, a place to hang coats and bags, and the supply closet. 

“Speaking of clothes, I apologize for not being able to assist you yesterday. I was terribly behind in some student council matters and worked all night to finish it all.” The student council president stated from behind the other section of the wall.

You hung the wardrobe up and walked back out, sliding the check in front of Namjoon on the table. “It’s completely fine, it wasn’t anything important.”

“I don’t think so,” He gestured for you to take a seat in the chair to his right. “Would you mind telling me what happened in the cafeteria?”

You hesitated, prepared to brush it all under the rug, but boy’s gaze sharpened and you found yourself taking a seat.

“It was an accident,” you began. “Someone tripped and spilled their food on me at lunch.”

Namjoon hummed. “Who was it?”

“A friend of Aemilia’s. I was sitting with Mana, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook at lunch and we were talking, and then I felt something cold run down my face and back.” You looked down at your lap, folding and unfolding your fingers.

Namjoon rested his chin in his fist as he looked at you. “I take it that it was Constance, as Aemilia said yesterday, correct?” 

You nodded.

“So, Constance managed to trip and splatter her food all over you, and only you, as you sat at your lunch table, which is fairly out of the way of the center of the cafeteria. A table that had plenty of room for people to walk around.”

“How did you know where I was sitting?” You asked.

“Jimin informed me of the basic details, but I wanted to hear the story from your perspective.” He reasoned with a smile. “This...accident...also occurred well into the meal, when everyone else was already seated.”

You frowned. “It doesn’t sound like you think it was an accident.”

“It sounds as though she were targeting you, (Y/N).” Namjoon said, removing some papers and textbooks from his bag. “I’m simply speculating off of what I know. I’d advise you to be careful of Aemilia and her ‘acquaintances’.” He said, smiling a bit worriedly. 

You looked away, thoughts racing rapidly in your head.

You were already wary of the girl because of her status and the things you’d heard from Mana, but you found something incredibly unsettling about being warned about her from Kim Namjoon himself. 

He’s one to talk.

Namjoon asked you to spend the rest of the lunch hour with him, as he felt he needed some company to complete the rest of his documents. 

He offered to purchase snacks for the two of you, and after that you could hardly refuse. You pulled out some assignments of your own and worked in tandem.

Hazel eyes peered through a crack in the doorway of the student council room. They saw you and the student council president, sitting together as though you were the best of friends, discussing certain books or classes with an intermittent joke placed every now and then into the conversation.

Hazel eyes saw nothing but a repulsive wench taking what was supposed to be her place. Speaking to her future husband, her future king. The longer she gazed upon the heinous sight, the angrier it made her. 

She made a move to swing open the door and announce her presence, but dark brown eyes met hers through the crack and Aemilia stilled. 

She was not surprised that he had managed to sense and spot her, as she had been able to tell long ago that the president was a master of perception. Yet the usual polite warmth that she so loved was gone. It was replaced by unyielding anger. 

His eyes were alight with purple fire.

He was angry because she almost interrupted him being with you.

Aemilia let go of the handle to the student council room, letting the door click closed. She shoved past the shoulders of her minions friends, raging down the hallway until she reached an empty classroom. 

Once inside, she locked herself in there and began throwing around the desks, chairs, anything within her arms’ reach.

After she quelled her rage, she pressed her nails into her palm and decided:  no, she would not be going out like this. She would not allow that pretentious shrew to chip away and what she so carefully built, what she strove for.

(Y/N) (L/N) would soon experience hell on earth. Aemilia Augustus would make that happen. She swore it on her family name.

(Y/N) (L/N) would never return to the school in one piece, of body or of mind, as long as she could help it.

-----------------------------------------—————

~taglist~

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[zhaozi]

analysis of vegaspete and kinnporsche - part 2 (the kinnporsche bit)

i’m going to add the same intro just in case you haven’t read the other post!

I'm going to jump on Juul's post about the discrepancies in trust and honesty between kinn and porsche's relationship in comparison to vegas and pete's relationship; but first I just want to make a disclosure because I always get asks about it when I post even a vaguely negative statement about kinn. I hate him as a character. He is little more than a spoiled brat who has never been told no and that's probably why he kidnapped someone to be a bodyguard instead of playing nicely with the ones he had at home.

The intent of this post isn't to convince you that vegas and pete are the relationship we should be aiming for, just that kinn and porsche are also definitely not. This is a show about the mafia, there was always going to be morality that ranged from black to grey but that doesn't mean you should accept less than you're worth in a relationship.A bit of background;I have worked in a professional kink club, I have experience with criminal families, and i've also dated a man who didn't like to be told no.

instead of going into a deep retrospective for kinn & porsche, i'm just going to list some of the negatives i saw. i'm going to ignore things that korn manufactured so all of this lies solely of the couple;

kinn knew porsche saw yok as a mother figure in his life and that's why he went to her bar specifically to pressure porsche instead of school, or his house where he'd have less say.

tried to corner him on a boat so he had no way of escaping. does it look like porsche gave a fuck? no. splash splash motherfucker

reads off his entire life to him as a form of intimidation. don't you think it's sexy when your future employer and boyfriend does an in depth background check about your deceased parents and street fighting. no wonder they had sex instead of talking there was nothing to fucking talk about.

keeps himself handcuffed to porsche to 'get to know him'. how about don't piss him off and maybe he'd talk to you.

doesn't trust porsche as far as he can throw him. doesn't trust porsche to go alone to the minor family compound, doesn't trust porsche enough to tell him about tawan. doesn't trust porsche to go home for a week.

speaking off, porsche asked for space to figure out his life, so kinn turns up like an obsessive ex?

got chay kidnapped, kim hurt, and big killed because he didn't want to share information with his head bodyguard. nice.

still trusted tawan enough to imprison porsche even though he claimed he knew tawan had nothing?

forced porsche to apologise to him? for??? talking to vegas?

i have a 3 year old, and honestly it's giving eau-de-you can't play with my toys

RAPED PORSCHE. he raped him. he didn't have sex with porsche while porsche was willing. porsche couldn't have consented to anything. that's rape. let's not beat around the bush.

then punished porsche for being raped by kinn or getting himself drugged and then forced into sex.

demoted him, which he knew would upsets porsche, for doing his job.got jealous of porsche working with vegas when he sent porsche to work for vegas?

supported his dad when porsche found out about his mum. kinn found out in that moment that his dad had lied to porsche for years about his mum, and his 'uncle', and still told porsche to calm down bc he was here for him. okay buddy.

gropes porsche in the middle of a gun fight while he's surrounded by dead colleagues.

idk about you guys but i like my fiance to ask permission before grabbing my crotch in front of people i worked with, dead or alive. maybe im just a prude or smth though

talks bad about him to his dead parents. i shouldn't have to explain why this is a negative point for kinn.

porsche doesnt want to cuddle in front of time and tay so what does kinn do? hold him in a death grip

'don't touch me' kinn proceeds to keep trying to touch him

beckons porsche like a dog in the bar. he seems to be into it the second time with the weird bread shit so im not against that moment of it against him.

uses porsches fear of ghosts against him in the side story.

even though they slept together kinn tells porsche he views all of his bodyguards as the same. thats some prime time emotional manipulation my guys.

'i promise you ill find every answer' he didn't and porsche didn't trust him to help because porsche knows that kinn is a puppet.

calls porsche a whore bc a drink spilt on him and vegas helped take his shirt off and kinn didnt ask for context before saying anything

EITHER PORSCHES BOYFRIEND OR BEST FRIEND KILLED HIS 'UNCLE' WHEN HE STILL THOUGHT IT WAS HIS UNCLE. why? bc he was with vegas? bc he left the house? your best guess is as good as mine

porsche passed out in a sauna and you're just going to leave him there? while he has a medical emergency. okay?

cant even pretend to talk to porsche nicely after pete explains that its the way to get close to porsche

oh and porsche said his name was jom at the beginning.

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part♜Pt.11

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst & Fluff

↳ (6.8k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and death, character death

➟ A/N: This is the final part! Thank you all for reading this series and for giving it so much love <3

gif credit.

➟ Full Series: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10[M] Part 11

“You saw someone outside the house last night?” 

Seokjin’s arms are crossed, wide eyes swaying from you to Namjoon. 

You nod in response, “The way they were dressed, it really blended them into their surroundings. I thought maybe the lack of sleep was playing with me, but then Namjoon saw it too…” 

You peer over at your husband, who hums. “We couldn’t find them afterwards.” 

Seokjin shakes his head, appearing to still be caught within bafflement. Jimin suddenly emerges, his eyes drinking in the distress in the room. 

“I’m assuming there’s no good news?” He wonders, and Namjoon turns, raising an eyebrow in his direction. 

“Nothing?” 

“Nothing.” He sighs, roughly running a hand through his locks, “He keeps saying it over and over again, that we’re fools to think he’s pulling the strings…” 

Namjoon lets out a deep exhale, back sinking against the wall. That’s when he catches it, a sharp glint residing behind Seokjin’s glasses. 

“What?” He immediately asks as the man raises his head, shaking his head. 

“He wasn’t too forthcoming with me either, but….” His eyes suddenly sway and Namjoon follows the gesture, “He seems to really hate you.” 

You stare at Seokjin wide-eyed. 

Before you have a chance to retaliate, he beats you to it. “I’m not saying that it’s because of you per say, but more so because of your lineage….” 

“Being a L/N?” Jimin ponders, and Seokjin hums, furrowing his brows. 

“It seems he wasn’t quite happy with your marriage to Namjoon and from the looks of it, Taehyung wasn’t either.” 

Although you can somewhat grasp what Seokjin is implying, his next question catches you off guard. 

“How was Yonghwa killed, Y/N?” 

Your mouth opens and closes from the straightforwardness, but you can see Seokjin’s gears turning, so you ultimately decide not to hesitate. 

The history of your families is known to many. Trade and manufacturing seeking to forge a union between their two sectors. Yonghwa and Namjung were supposed to go through with the deal, but all hell broke loose on the fateful day when Yonghwa was found on the ground in a pool of his own blood with Namjung being visibly shaken. Revenge was rampant between the two families, your marriage to Namjoon ultimately becoming the peace offering to end years of hatred. 

“Yonghwa was murdered.” You state in a monotone voice, as if told the story numerous times, “The day he and Namjung seeked a union, Yonghwa found out that the Kim’s were building weapons they hadn’t agreed upon.”

“Yonghwa therefore decided not to go through with the union, but was murdered by Namjung who wanted to cover up his tracks.” 

After you finish explaining, your eyes drift up. Namjoon is staring at you in disbelief, orbs oscillating. 

“What is it?” You immediately ask. 

Seokjin relaxes his narrowed eyes and clears his throat, “Yonghwa was killed...but not at the hands of Namjung.” 

Namjoon continues, “The L/N’s were involved in illegal exchange through their trades, and Namjung found out during the time he was making a deal with Yonghwa. He attempted to reason with Yonghwa, but he was held at gunpoint.” 

“Through the scuffle they had, Yonghwa ended up accidentally shooting himself.” Jimin finishes, confusion drawing from your eyes. 

“W-What?” Your eyes glance at the two of them frantically, “But there’s no way, Yonghwa was found in a pool of his own blood.” 

“And Namjung was left shaken.” Namjoon adds, “He meant to forge a union, not kill the head.” 

“That’s‒….” You shake your head, utterly lost from the conclusion. It seems too foreign to you, like someone has erased years of history from your book and shoved something else in instead.

A thought lingers in your mind and your eyes snap up, gazing at Seokjin, “Why are you asking me about Yonghwa?” 

Namjoon glances up at him as well, confused from the inquires. Seokjin smiles, crossing his arms. 

“I have a hunch that I need to confirm,” He eyes you, “‒and what if I said that the two of you are telling the truth?” 

You and Namjoon share a glance, the latter speaking, “How so?” 

“Yonghwa was killed. This is the one point in your stories that stays constant,” He begins, “But the part where your stories diverge is the reasoning behind his demise.” 

“Y/N said the Kim’s were building weapons that Yonghwa didn’t agree with, and Namjoon said that Namjung found out about the L/N’s illegal activities. This led to both parties disagreeing with each other, and it wouldn't be so surprising for a fight to ensue, with both taking rightful actions to prevent themselves any harm.” 

“Yonghwa was prepared to kill Namjung at the cost of saving his business while Namjung needed to get rid of Yonghwa’s knowledge.” 

Seokjin pauses for a moment as you and Namjoon nod in response. His smile widens, curling at the corner of his lips. 

“Now the reason why I brought this up.” He clears his throat, a playful look in his eyes, “The moral of this story is that there seems to be no victor and no loser. Both families were involved in things they shouldn’t have been and were prepared to take lethal actions to protect that information, even to the extent of making the other family look historically bad in comparison.” 

Your eyes widen and Seokjin asks the question that has you stumbling for an answer. 

“So why the need for a union?” He wonders, “What was the point for such a union, when both families were already so against each other to the extent of making up false tales?” 

“Why look for peace when there’s no room for it to begin with?” Namjoon replies, and Seokjin nods. 

“Your company’s visible shareholders seem to despise the fact that you married Y/N, and I’m sure other members of the company weren’t thrilled from hearing about her lineage.” He honestly professes, “So why would they suddenly be okay with you marrying a L/N for the sake of a union?” 

“It would have to do something other than their hatred for each other….” Namjoon mumbles, squinting his eyes, “Something important enough that they would purposely need a marriage between me and Y/N.” 

Seokjin hums and Jimin abruptly sputters out an answer. 

“Something like a liability!” 

Namjoon glances at him appalled and he hurriedly rambles before he loses the thought, “Going based off of Seokjin’s theory, Namjoon would be wedded to a L/N, someone who would have created stained connections with her own family because of the marriage and be resented by members of the Kim family.” 

Jimin huffs, “Essentially she would be nothing but a liability to Namjoon’s title as the next heir…..” 

Three sets of eyes stare at him in bewilderment, and Jimin sheepishly smiles from the attention. Seokjin’s pupils light up again, a spark residing within them. 

“But who would benefit from all this?” He mumbles, “Who would benefit most from seeing you fail, Namjoon?” 

Namjoon stares at Seokjin as silence reigns heavy in the room, no clear answer forming within his mind. 

Your lids slowly flutter open. 

The entire room is dark and murky, night long having fallen within a couple of hours. You had long spent hours conversing with the others about Hoseok before ultimately deciding to question him more the next day, with Namjoon coaxing you that all of you weren’t far from understanding his intent. 

Yet your eyes squint through the dark, peering around the room in confusion. There’s sounds of feet shuffling against the hardwood of the floors, faint voices growing louder and louder with their shouting, some tinged with urgency while others not being able to fathom disbelief. 

It doesn’t take long for you to immediately reach for Namjoon, jostling him awake. Once he’s conscious, the two of you are scrambling out of the sheets in an instant, his hand wrapping around yours as you head towards the commotion. 

His backside suddenly halts, freezing in place. 

You catch onto the scent right away. 

It’s putrid and familiar….too familiar. 

Shifting forward, horror sinks into your eyes at the source.

Hoseok’s form is slumped against the front door, eyes lulled back and red soaking the outskirts of his clothes. A trail of scarlet follows him, leading up into the torn apart room he was residing in. 

***

Silence lingers uncomfortably long in the room. 

It’s stifling, tension feeling heavy on your shoulders and muting your words. Slightly fumbling with your hands, your eyes flicker up for the briefest of moments. 

Seokjin is against the wall, arms crossed against the blood stains that litter his torso. He stands opposite from where you and Namjoon are seated, adjacent from where Jimin leans against a table, in a similar condition as his hand balances against his cheek. 

Hoseok’s corpse has been removed, but you wrenched your eyes away from the multiple gash wounds that littered his torso, the overwhelming scent of blood bringing a rise of nausea to surface from your lips. 

Jimin is the first to clear his throat, peering over at you and Namjoon. “You were right, there was someone roaming outside.” 

“He was silenced.” Seokjin sighs, unraveling his arms and placing his hands in his pocket. You catch the slightest hint of remorse in his features, wondering if he was too late in arriving at the incident.  

Jimin shakes his head, “But why….?” 

“And why make it so brutal?” Namjoon’s deep voice cuts in, making Seokjin hum with a grimace. 

“This just proves that he knew something important….” You whisper. 

Seokjin hums, planting an exasperated hand against his temples. Although somewhat cruel, you understand his frustration. 

Hoseok was the only link in finding out who wanted Namjoon killed and sought out for your marriage, and now that he’s gone, you’ve hit a complete dead end. 

There’s a soft knock against the door that results in all of your eyes hiking up. Jimin steps forward, gesturing for you to be at ease as he answers. 

As the door closes, Jimin abruptly blinks, before snapping his eyes up. 

“Namjoon.” 

He stands up right away and Seokjin curiously leans over, “What is it?” 

“It’s a picture…” He states, “A picture of the weapon assumed to be used on Hoseok….”

Seokjin suddenly leans even closer, carefully plucking it out of Jimin’s fingers. He holds the same astonished expression, eyes flickering over in Namjoon’s direction. 

“I think we know who was after you, Namjoon…” 

The picture is passed over to him and you sweep your irises over it too. It’s a simple picture of a knife, but it’s one that has your eyes narrowing. 

“I’ve seen this knife before…” You whisper, mind scattering around for an answer. The intricate details and the curved edge seemed far too familiar, but you can’t wrap your finger on it. 

Your eyes flicker, recognition suddenly dawning upon you. 

“Taehyung!” You snap your fingers, recalling the time he attempted to take your life, “That’s the knife Taehyung had....” 

“It’s a custom knife.” Namjoon states, his gaze steadily hardening, “Only a few were manufactured by the Kim’s.” 

Your eyes threaten to fall out from their sockets. Your gaze oscillates from Namjoon to Jimin and then Seokjin, realizing they’ve already connected all the dots.  

“H-How does this make sense?” You shake your head, “That would mean that someone from your family i-is trying to….” 

Namjoon hums, gaze connecting with your own. There’s something unsettling brewing in his orbs, a fine line between anguish and pure rage. 

“I now understand why Hoseok decided to keep quiet.” He grits, “And why we haven’t been safe here.”

***

Your footsteps are hectic, nearly sprinting through the walls. Your hands shove against your bedroom’s door, eyes falling upon your husband’s turned back right away. 

The sound of a gun cocking has your eyes widening and you immediately scramble forward, hand wrapping around his shoulder. 

“Namjoon.” You softly call out. His brows are still intensely furrowed and jaw tensed, his gaze focused on filling the cartilage to the handgun til it’s stuffed to the brim. 

Concern drips from your stare, and you shake his shoulder again, voice firmer, “Namjoon.” 

He spins around, rummaging through his bag for another gun. You huff, grasping onto him and knocking the weapon out of his hands. 

You force him to look at you. “Namjoon!” 

“What?!” He sharply snarls, but you are unfazed. It’s obvious to you ‒ the way his form is seething with anger, the way his hands tremble as he shoves bullets into his gun, the way there’s an inkling of pain residing within his irises, begging to release him from his torment. 

You don’t say anything, simply softly shake your head in response. Namjoon lets out a scoff, a strained laugh escaping his throat. 

Your arms loop around him, resting your head against his chest. 

“I’m a tool, Y/N.” His shoulders crumble down, “Just a tool.” 

“I know.” You whisper, noticing how his anger dissolves into anguish, his form no longer tensing underneath your hold. He raises his hands to embrace you back, breaths steadying. 

With a deep sigh, he breaks away from you, an appreciative smile looping on his lips. 

You return it, but a new voice draws your attention. 

“You won’t accomplish anything going there like this, Namjoon.” Seokjin leans against the doorframe as Jimin draws closer behind him. You assume they must have followed after you when Namjoon suddenly left the room in a fit of anger, declaring that he was leaving to settle things once and for all with his father. 

His father, who eventually decided that Namjoon wasn’t good enough to be the next heir, who wanted him to be wed to you, placing a heavy liability on his ties and waiting for him to crumble underneath the title so he could have a new heir. 

But he wasn’t able to anticipate that you would turn out to be a spy, and that Namjoon would refuse to leave you, fed up with being used solely for the family business. 

You sigh, keeping a gentle hand on his back. 

“We need to think this through.” Seokjin reminds. 

“But how?” Namjoon shakes his head, “I’ll constantly be in danger‒ all of you will be in danger.” 

He glances between you and Seokjin, with the latter humming, “You’re not wrong about that, but we have to play our cards right.” 

“So what‒” Namjoon jokes, “I should just wait to be killed first?” 

There’s a twinkle in Seokjin’s eyes, a smile widening all the way to his cheeks. 

The moon rises, casting a shadow against the isolated building’s walls. 

You carefully thread through the empty hallway, pacing back and forth. A gun remains strapped to your waist, hidden underneath your clothing as your alert eyes sweep through the vicinity. 

It’s a small building, one that is barely guarded and nearly hidden compared to the others. It carries two floors, one of which contains the norm of offices, only a mere handful of workers that rigorously work throughout the day, but the numbers dwell during the peak of the night, barely a hushed murmur coming across from the doors or walls. 

Namjoon has informed his father that you and him will be temporarily staying in the building for safety reasons after Hoseok’s incident, and that tonight is the night that you’ll be staying in the reclusive area. 

Prior to figuring out pieces of the puzzle, Seokjin had come up with the plan of making you and Namjoon come off as vulnerable, essentially luring his father into the building. Upon Namjoon’s slight persistence, he had suggested that the former confront him about the entire matter. 

You had thought it was risky, too risky in fact ‒ but when Seokjin and Namjoon had abruptly shared a glance through your discussion, you knew there was more to the story than they were letting on. 

Trusting them with the matter, you agreed with the notion and were assigned to guard the area under the pretense of Jimin’s suspicions. You couldn’t figure out who the woman was that Hoseok interacted with, so alongside with ensuring no one gets in, you have the task of keeping an eye out for any unwelcomed surprises. 

It’s dead silent and pitch dark, the majority of the light sources cut off. Your footsteps make no sound against the soft wood, long having trained yourself to go unheard in case you were caught as a spy. 

Your eyes continue to sweep around the area, looking around for movement. 

You suddenly freeze. 

Creak.

Head snapping up, you carefully press your ear against one of the doors in the hallway, listening in again. 

Creak.

Your eyes widen. 

Feet quietly gliding against the ground, you carefully peer into the room through the glass opening, noticing an open window and someone fumbling around with the walls. They seem to stumble as they do, almost seeming lost until you realize that the lack of light source makes it incredibly hard to see. 

Biting your lower lip, you shuffle closer to the door, carefully waiting. 

Light pours through the room. 

Your pupils enlarge, mouth falling agape. A smile curve on her lips as she reaches for the door, but you’re close enough to reach out for her by the time it yanks open. 

Your hand meets her shoulder. 

She jolts, a gasp escaping her lips as she swivels, the light illuminating her fear-stricken features. 

You innocently quirk your head to the side, brows knitting together. 

“Geongmin?”

“Y-Y/N!” She stammers, swallowing hard as if she had seen a ghost. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Although naively surprised, there’s a cutting edge to your tone, taking advantage of her terror. 

“I‒uh, my father!” She hastily says, as if nearly forgotten the answer, “H-He needed me to bring his forgotten briefcase back home.” 

For the briefest of moments, you narrow your eyes. 

You hum understandably, “I see….” 

Granting her a small smile that she hesitantly returns, you take a clueless step back, whirling around. 

You glance around, “I can offer you some help in finding it, if it’s somewhere nearby then‒” 

The sound of a trigger cocking halts your steps. 

Although your voice is laced with tender surprise, your expression says otherwise. “Geongmin?” 

“W-Where is he?” She sputters. You casually swivel around to face her, barely flinching at the gun that is inches away from your eyes. 

“Who is he?” You press forward. 

“My brother!” She nearly yells, your blank expression drawing more unease from her, “Where is he?!” 

A long exhale leaves your lips, “About that….” 

It happens within a flash. Your fist slams into her arm, a cry slipping from her lips and the gun dropping from her hands. You swoop it up in an instant, pinning her against the wall as she’s distracted from the pain. 

You tightly hold her hands within one of your hands, the other pointing the gun at the back of her head. 

Your fingers curve around the trigger, “What has he promised you?” 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

You angle the gun so that it presses lightly against her scalp, her entire form jolting from the action.

Your voice is firm as you ask again, “What has your father promised you, Geongmin?” 

Her breaths are ragged, “H-Heir! The title of h-heir!” 

Tilting your head to the side, you listen to her intently, “M-My father said Namjoon was weak! That he couldn’t handle being the next heir, especially after being married to someone like you!” 

Your shoulders slump down, a deep sigh leaving you. Although her declaration is vile, her words sound confusing, as if fear was taking over her mind completely. 

There’s suddenly a flicker in your eyes, recognition filling you. 

It’s a mere gamble, but you loosen your grip on her, taking a step back. She watches you in astonishment and you drop the gun to the ground, kicking it to the side and away from you. 

The fear doesn’t leave her form in the slightest. 

“Do you desire being the heir?” Your voice has become soft. 

“W-What?” Your question seems to confuse her even more, her mind spinning, “What kind of question is that?!” 

You pursue your lips, noticing how for someone that should desire to kill you, she doesn’t rush towards the fallen gun. 

“Do you want to inherit the business?” 

It’s almost like she wants to break into a fit, tell you that you’re wrong and that you’re merely some spy that’s in the way. 

But the words don’t manage to leave her. 

“What is it that you want to do, Geongmin?” You gently ponder. 

“Why are you asking me all these questions?!” She repeats, sounding frustrated beyond belief. Streaks of tears are streaming down her eyes, her hands trembling. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. 

“Because I know obligation when I see it.”

The confusion doesn’t leave her as you step over to pick up the gun again, handing it to her. 

“Here.” You merely say, looking at her puzzled gaze she sends at the weapon, “Finish the mission you were sent on.”

You stand back, right in her aim of fire. Although your expression is confident, you hope she doesn’t notice the faint tremble lodged within your hands, inches away from the gun submerged within your clothing. 

Her eyes are completely blown out, still swimming with confusion. It’s not long before she points it right at you, rage consuming her features in an instant. 

You stare right back at her. 

The gun never fires. 

It slips from her hands, crashing onto the ground as more tears pool from her eyes. 

“I-I c-can’t….” She weakly mumbles, shaking her head. A low sigh of relief leaves you before you bend down, picking up the fallen gun.

Your eyes flicker, “You regret killing him….don’t you?” 

She nods weakly, and a smile curls on your lips. 

“I’m glad you made this choice on your own, Geongmin.” 

You extend your hand towards her, granting her the chance to choose again. She stares at it for a moment, a million thoughts racing through her head. 

She reaches out, clasping onto it. 

Heavy footsteps pound into the room. 

The door is securely locked, before he treads closer, eyes narrowing. 

Namjoon sits in a large chair, his eyes focused onto the table before him. At the sound of footsteps he snaps up, a smirk curving on his lips. 

“Father.” He remarks, “I’m surprised to see you here.” 

His father doesn’t return his smile, simply humming in response. 

“Hoseok was killed recently. You need to be more careful from now on.” He snides, standing across from him, “Especially with that pesky spy living in your quarters.” 

“That is my wife you are speaking about.” Namjoon sharply interjects, voice no longer holding warmth. His father sends him a seething glare, reminding him of the time he declared he wasn’t going to get rid of you. 

“How long do you expect to keep her around? She’s a L/N, for all you know she could have dug around all of our secrets and exploited the information.” He hisses, planting his hands against Namjoon’s table, “She’ll be nothing but a burden to you in the future, you’ll be mocked by her lineage and she’ll destroy your business.”

Namjoon furrows his brows, an amused smile wanting to etch onto his lips. He’s aching to spew his knowledge about how his sister was likely pressured into taking over his space as heir, her mind filled with twisted information about the two of you by the person standing directly in front of him. 

But he keeps it together, intrigue swirling in his orbs instead, “Who would you think was attempting to take my life then? Y/N?” 

“Of course it’s her!” His father roars, “She’s been feeding her family information about us, and now she wants to take over the business by having you killed!” 

“Really?” 

His father stares at him like the simple question in itself was ridiculous. “You should have listened to me before and gotten rid of her.” 

“But my answer wouldn’t change.” He smiles, pressing his buttons further, “She was my wife then, and she is now. What will you do if I wish to stay married to her?” 

His smile doesn’t waver. It seems to do the trick, his father’s face colouring into a shade of red at his son’s stubbornness and only serving to heighten his fear. The notion should fuel his need to get rid of Namjoon, to realize that the son sitting before him isn’t made out to be the tool that he’s always wanted. 

Namjoon’s smile barely moves, even when a gun is pointed in his direction. 

“Then this will be farewell.” 

Two guns aim for him on either side. 

In an instant, his father’s eyes widen. Namjoon continues to smile, watching Seokjin and Jimin step closer. 

Rising from his seat, he clears his throat. 

“I’m not a pawn, father.” He states, “I have my own wishes, and they won’t always line up with my role as heir.” 

He shakes his head, “The hatred between us and the L/N’s is just two families blaming each other to cover up their own tracks, and should have ended ages ago, even before I married Y/N.” 

He walks over to where his father glares at him, “Now it’s time you make a decision too.” 

Namjoon raises his arm as Jimin hands him a computer and Seokjin brings a chair, planting his father down onto it. Opening the screen right in front of the man, his eyes are met with a list of endless codes, but what’s most prominent are the ones that would surely infiltrate into an extensive database. 

His father’s eyes hold terror in them, “This is….” 

“The company.” Namjoon finishes, pointing to the screen, “These codes are functional on many bases and can hack into anything, even something as highly secured as the company’s database.” 

“You’re going to destroy everything.” 

Namjoon’s eyes twinkle, “I’m going to destroy what’s left of it.” 

“You’re insane.” His father snarls, “You’re going to ruin the Kim empire and throw away this goldmine for what?!” 

“My freedom.” Namjoon simply replies, his dark eyes pushing the computer closer to him.  

His father’s face is an angry shade of scarlet, but as metal presses further into his skull, his fingers press against the keys and allow the authorization. At the sight of the last code unlocking, Namjoon’s shoulders visibly relax, an exhale of relief leaving him. 

Seokjin quickly takes it away, packing away the computer into a bag before peering at Namjoon. 

They share the same thought, “We need to find Y/N.” 

Namjoon hums, preparing to leave the area as fast as possible. 

However, he doesn’t notice how his father’s face twitches at the mere mention of you, eyes boring daggers into his son’s skull. 

Namjoon turns and it happens within a flash. 

Jimin is on the ground, scarlet hands clutching onto his leg as a gun is pointed in Namjoon’s direction. Seokjin’s eyes widen in an instant, but he’s too late when multiple bullets are fired, all lodging into Namjoon’s chest. 

There’s no way to describe the terror that strikes you. 

Tears unconsciously roll down your features, a hard knot constricting around your throat. You can only watch in horror as a staggering Jimin and Seokjin huff, dragging Namjoon’s limp form onto a bed. 

Streams of red are dripping down his black suit, three pieces of metal embedded within his chest. Your trembling hands come closer, noticing that he was luckily still breathing. 

“His lungs haven’t been damaged.” Jimin doesn’t hesitate to speak as you peer up at him, “We’re going to need to take the bullets out.” 

Seokjin quickly filters around the room, searching for supplies as Jimin leans against the bed. You notice the trail of blood beneath his legs, eyes widening. 

“Jimin, you’re‒” 

He simply shakes his head, gesturing towards Namjoon first. You hesitantly nod, taking a couple of steps back as Seokjin returns. 

A shaky exhale leaves your lips when Seokjin opens up Namjoon’s shirt, your quivering hands coming up to cover your mouth as you spin away from the sight. 

“Y/N…” Jimin’s gentle voice beckons, but you can’t seem to look behind you. “Y/N, why don’t you wait outside?” 

Although concern is flooding through every fiber of your form, you solemnly nod without hesitation. 

Exiting the room at once, you attempt to calm yourself down, eyes flickering up to see Geongmin staring at you with a troubled gaze. 

She sits with you throughout the silence, your mind completely numbing from the recent events. 

***

Over the course of the next few days, you are dangling between concern and worry. 

You’ve been residing within the Kim household in the duration and haven’t spoken to yet even seen Namjoon during that time. Although relieved that his wounds weren’t fatal, you were told that he was still unconscious and that healing from them would take considerable time. 

In the meanwhile, Seokjin and Jimin had informed you that the person responsible for his state was his father. After getting rid of the remains from the company, something Namjoon had always planned to do, his father had shot Jimin and intended to kill Namjoon. 

In response, Seokjin was forced to take immediate action. 

You took in the news with a bitter taste in your mouth, but were glad to see Jimin slowly recover from the incident. 

Upon returning and being in the household that you and Namjoon had eventually abandoned, you were confronted with the presence of his mother. At first, you were unsure of what to say, not comprehending if she knew about the prior incidents, or if like Namjoon’s father, she held a deep scorn for the two of you. 

However to your surprise, she hadn’t seemed taken aback, instead appearing fatigued, dark circles beginning to round her eyes and creases maring her forehead. It made you think back to the first time you had met the women, her elegance and straightforwardness towards you always catching you off guard. 

She had asked you about how Namjoon was doing and you had given a simple direct response, but there was a sad smile on her lips, one that had made your chest tighten. 

“I don’t hate you, Y/N. If that’s what you’re thinking.” At your perplexment, she continued, “I think it was for the best to let go of the company...at least now we can move on from holding up this Empire with our lives.” 

She faintly chuckled as you remained next to her, silently listening.

A sigh leaves her, “I’m in pain not because of my husband’s death, but because I let it get to this point. To the point where I would have lost my entire family for a mere business.” 

She softly shook her head, “I’m tired, Y/N. I’m very tired of all this.”

Her words had echoed in your mind. She hadn’t spoken to you after that, but Geongmin had soon informed you that she had never seen her mother express so much remorse before. 

With the entire Kim Empire now gone, they were simply just a broken family left behind. 

The breeze blows against your hair, the flowers underneath your toes brushing against your skin. 

Night has fallen and for a considerable amount of tossing and turning, sleep hasn't welcomed you throughout the evening. You ultimately decided it would be best to get some fresh air, desperately needing to relieve some of the restlessness you were facing. 

The pale moonlight shines down on the bed of flowers, the wind whisking past you more crisp during the night. A warm smile tugs on the corner of your lips as you kneel down, gently touching the array of white, lilac purple and petal pink flowers beneath your feet. 

Running your fingers through the stems your hand halts, circling around a certain white flower. You pursue your lips, reaching out and cautiously wrapping your fingers around the base, squeezing it tightly for a moment. 

“I don’t think my mother will be fond of the idea that you stole one of her flowers.” 

You nearly jolt, breath hitching at the sudden voice behind you. That’s when your eyes enlarge, grip loosening immediately. 

Swiveling around, the astonishment doesn’t leave your form as you rise up onto your feet. 

Namjoon stands before you, leaning against a wall with a hand pressed against his chest. He sheepishly smiles when your eyes connect, briefly glancing at the ground for a moment before looking up. 

“You know, these flowers have a history of blooming in the seasons of‒oof!”

He doesn’t get a chance to enlighten you about his knowledge of the plants, your form crashing right against his as you wrap your arms around him. Namjoon lightly chuckles, pushing your strands back and slowly circling his arm around you. Your grip on him only tightens, a fact that he’s quick to remind you of. 

“Y/N.” He strains. 

You suddenly realize your husband had recently suffered having multiple bullets penetrate through his chest cavity. Immediately stepping back, a string of apologies tumble from your lips. 

“I-I’m so sorry!” He grimaces while holding onto the wounds, but still continues to smile at you. Your eyes are drawn to the thick strips of cloth wrapped around the area, tucked underneath the button-down shirt he had clumsily through on around his shoulders.

Your eyes suddenly narrow, “If I didn’t know any better, it would seem that you’re still healing‒…” 

Namjoon sheepishly smiles and your eyes widen. Before you can say anything, Namjoon steps forward and places a finger against his lips. 

“You need to go back.” You hurriedly coax, voice dropping down into a whisper. Namjoon continues to smile, not moving the slightest. 

You press your hands against him, slowly pushing him, “Namjoon, you need rest and‒” 

“I know.” He whispers, grasping onto your hands right away. “I came here to see you.” 

“You were worried...weren’t you?” You flush underneath his gaze, averting your eyes. His smile widens for a brief second, before it drops down and he leans closer to you. 

“Y/N.” 

You look up, eyes connecting with his. You’re taken aback with the stern appearance they take on, narrowing with intent. 

When he speaks, they’re of mere facts, “I’m conscious again, and I’m able to walk…..” 

You hum, not quite understanding what he was intending to say to you. “The company...I’m sure Seokjin and Jimin told you what I did.” 

“You destroyed it.” You state and he nods, “It’s gone now and the Kim’s don’t have any means of continuing on with their busine‒” 

Life flickers into your eyes and at the sight of recognition in your eyes, Namjoon solemnly smiles. 

“You want to leave….” You whisper and he hums. 

“It’s been on my mind ever since, I wanted to ask you in a better manner but given the circumstance…” He glances down at his injury. 

“The moment I woke up, I needed to talk to you about it.” 

“I see….” You mutter, staring down at the ground. Namjoon continues to gaze at you, concern in his eyes. 

At your silence, he ponders, “What are you thinking?” 

“I don’t know, truthfully.” You whisper, “It sounds….wonderful, incredible actually‒ but….” You stare at him, “Can we do that...? Have a fresh new start?”

For some reason, you almost want to laugh, “Are people like us even allowed to have something like that?”

“Maybe not.” Namjoon truthfully says, and you peer up, taken aback from the grim in his voice, “But I don’t see any harm in trying.” 

You silently stare at him. 

You’re not a spy anymore ‒ and Namjoon is no longer the heir. 

You’re finally free, no longer someone else's tools to use. You can be whoever and decide to do whatever you want, no family history dictating it for you anymore. 

The carefree thought brings a smile to your lips, and when you look up to see Namjoon softly smiling, you wonder if he’s pieced it together too. 

Without hesitation, you take Namjoon’s hand. 

Epilogue

The sun brightly shines in between the clouds, spreading across the expansive field. 

It reaches your skin as you bend down, a small basket in your hand as you rummage around for the potatoes you recall planting somewhere. 

There’s a faint rustle from behind you and you blink for a moment, turning around with narrowed eyes. You hear it again, but this time you can see two small legs running towards you. 

A tender smile spread across your features. 

The rustling abruptly cuts off, the sound of loud thud replacing it and low cries begin to echo out instead. 

You rush forward, the basket in your hands long abandoned. 

“Seokmin!” 

The young boy continues to cry, large tears leaving his wide eyes until you bend down, scooping him up into your arms. His cries subside a little by the action and you muse at his clumsiness, acknowledging that it was a particular trait he surely hadn’t gotten from you.

Namjoon emerges seconds later, planting his hands against his knees as deeply heaves.  

“I’m sorry, he was excited to see you and‒” He pants, drawing closer to see Seokmin tucked away in your embrace with dried streaks down his cheeks. “Is he alright?”

You nod, attempting to brush away the hair from the boy’s eyes. Namjoon reaches out and you hand him over, bending down to retrieve your basket. 

You look up to see Namjoon playfully poking one of his cheeks, your son squirming around his arms as small giggles leaves him. 

The display has a smile curving on your lips. 

There was a time when you dreamed about being happy, to live a life on your terms without being at someone’s beck and call, every decision being fueled by your own conscious thought rather than programmed and ingrained obligation. 

However, that’s all it ever was ‒ a dream, a mere fantasy tucked away in the corners of your mind that you had long forgotten about. Yet somehow in some way, you and Namjoon managed to fulfill it. 

It didn’t come to you all at once, a normal life being far from the reality you were uncomfortably close to. That type of life was something that never quite suited the two of you and as a result, you had your fair share of struggles. 

You can still remember the nights you had spent with vicious nightmares, old memories plaguing you and not letting you forget that you still had marks littering your body, your own two hands long having been tainted. It would make you question if you even deserved any of this, deserved to actually be content with what you have. 

You would like to say that the adjusting process was easier for Namjoon, but there were a handful of times where he would wake up in a cold sweat, his whole form quivering next to you. It was those days you truly learned about Namjoon’s past for the first time, of the things he did or more so, was forced to do. 

You started to wholeheartedly believe it, that this ‘life’ you wanted to build together could never be possible and that a part of you will always unconsciously remember times you wanted to forget. 

That was until your son was born. 

At first, it was a whirlwind. You hadn’t expected to get pregnant so soon and you weren’t sure of how Namjoon would react to the sudden news. Fortunately he was ecstatic once you told him and it granted you some sense of reassurance, but you could clearly see it within his warm eyes and you know he could see it reflected in yours. 

Was it even possible for people like the two of you to bring another life into the world? 

You had attempted to push that thought away as far as you could during the process and luckily when Seokmin was born, something had changed within you. 

“Y/N?” 

You blink, noticing Namjoon was staring at you with concern. Seokmin is looking over as well, appearing much better compared to when you found him. 

You shake your head with a soft smile. Leaning down, you redirect your gaze towards your son. 

It still astonishes you that aside from the eyes and the hair, he appears to be an exact replica of his father, “Are you feeling okay?” 

Your son nods, a spark lighting in his eyes. 

“Mom!” He excitedly says, “Dad said‒ Dad said you were a spy!” 

You stare at Namjoon wide-eyed, who looks at his son with the same expression. 

A low chuckle leaves you, “Um, he did…?” 

Namjoon puts Seokmin on the ground and gestures for him to continue playing, turning around to you. 

“Namjoon, we said we would wait.” You whisper. 

“I know‒” He squeezes his eyes shut, “It was just a slip of the tongue.” 

You stare at him for a moment, before letting out a sigh, “It’s alright...he’ll have to find out someday.” 

“Are you referring to the time we’ll give him the chance to choose his own last name?” 

Namjoon gazes at you amused and you share a smile with him. 

“You know, Seokjin and Jimin have been wanting to see him.” He reminds you, “They still can’t believe we named our son after them.” 

“Seokmin is a nice name.” Namjoon raises a brow like he doesn’t believe you and you laugh at his expression, “We should visit sometime soon, especially because….” 

You lean closer to him and Namjoon can only stare in confusion when you whisper in his ear. Immediately, he jolts back from you, staring at you in astonishment. 

“R-Really? Are you being serious?” You nod with a smile and Namjoon is brimming with ecstasy, “Y/N, that’s amazing!” 

You point a finger towards him, “But I want to name this one.”

Namjoon chuckles, pulling you into his embrace, “Of course.” 

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

silver, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Who said humans were animals of wisdom? For Yoongi, they’re animals of regret. Does that justify him cheating on his girlfriend with her/you? Absolutely not.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, smut (fem reader, car sex, fingering, m-receiving oral); non-idol!AU; angst; cheating; don’t do this to your significant other, please; Yoongi’s POV

--

Bad decisions are born from frustration and resentment.

None of it was supposed to happen. His life was fine, perfect in some people’s eyes. He was dating the girl his parents had introduced him to because it made them happy. She was polite, had a good background, and a nice smile. There wasn’t anything wrong with her.

Except he felt miserable.

Min Yoongi felt suffocated, uninterested, and annoyed at their lack of chemistry. His girl was pretty, the conventional kind of prettiness that couldn’t be denied. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Maybe he just didn’t understand beauty or something. Maybe he was being selfish for wanting more. At the start, it was alright. It was a fun little game, figuring someone out. But instead of a maze, he was on a seesaw, trying to determine if this up and down was as simple was it seemed. It sucked. And now Yoongi wanted to get off, but it seemed too difficult. Too difficult to disappoint his parents, her parents, and her aspirations of him being a good little husband.

He wanted to throw up thinking about it.

And then, she was there.

Dark lipstick and a playful smile. Black eyeshadow, eyes like a panther. Silver rings that glimmered in the flashing club lights.  Silver chain necklaces tangled in a mess around her neck, framing that slightly rounder face instead of the conformist v-line everyone was starving themselves for. Black oversized hoodie that hung on her smaller frame, paired with that short, short black dress paired with chunky black ankle boots. Thighs that he wanted to sink his teeth into and mold with his hands.

That night, Yoongi had sat there with his beer, fixated on this new presence and wishing for the first time that he was single as fuck. He didn’t know if it was because he was so unhappy in his current relationship or if it was because he liked the way she looked. It didn’t matter. He burned with jealousy as she chatted with the bartender, silver rings flashing as she moved her hands animatedly to her story. At home, Yoongi had a good little girl waiting for him with her vanilla tastes and it made him sick to his stomach.

The worst part was, other than being boring as fuck, his girl was fine.

He watched as she leaned on her hand, grinning as the bartender poured her another shot. The grin of someone who did not give a fuck what anyone thought of her actions. Yoongi wanted to shove his dick into that face.

His phone buzzed and he wanted to throw it across the club. Instead, he pulled it from his pocket with a neutral expression and checked his messages. His girlfriend asking if he was alright or if he needed to be picked up. He responded that he was fine and that he would call a taxi home to be safe. Told her he loved her and realized he didn’t even mean it.

He must be the awful one.

When he looked up, she was gone. Good. Maybe she had finally left to give him and his mind some peace.

Jeon Jungkook was looking around, blinking confusedly. The youngest in their group, Yoongi always thought he looked the cutest when he was bewildered. Yoongi raised his eyebrow.

“Something wrong, bro?”

Jungkook frowned. “Where’s Taehyung?”

Ah, yes. Kim Taehyung. The one Yoongi thought was the most trouble even though he was a year older than Jungkook. Maybe it was because they had different viewpoints and they often clashed in opinion, Yoongi finding him too childish and simple in mentality in comparison to his. But eventually they learned to get along – a different viewpoint is not necessarily a wrong one. Yoongi learned that being childish once in while might actually lighten his outlook on life.

Alright, to be honest he realized he was a bit of a pessimistic jackass.

In any case, it was with that question that shit started to go downhill. Because the next thing Yoongi knew, Taehyung’s boyish, boxy smile came back with a grin and dark lipstick smeared down his chin. Next time he was with his friends, she showed up again, elbow resting on Taehyung’s shoulder, looking cool and comfortable in her black leather jacket and tiny as fuck black T-shirt dress.

Yoongi hated it.

She wore too many silver accessories that flashed in the light and made her stand out. Her makeup was too dark and haunted him in his dreams. She would sit next to Taehyung like his pet panther, complimenting his dark hair and sharp jawline with her wildness. It was torture, because Yoongi knew that he had a pretty little thing with a cute little voice waiting for him at home. It wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was this dangerous-looking woman who climbed into Taehyung’s lap and straddled him right in front of them, unashamed and unapologetic. Her fingers tangled in Taehyung’s hair and Taehyung’s large hand planted firmly on her ass as they had a casual conversation with Park Jimin like nothing weird was happening. Jimin had an open mind about it all – for him, as long as his best friend was happy, he didn’t see the problem. Also, she liked to press her tits against Taehyung’s chest and Jimin was a pervert.

Okay, yes, Yoongi knew he was jealous as fuck.

When Taehyung and her parted ways after a few months, he thought he was free. He thought he could forget about it all. He and his girlfriend were happy. They didn’t have sex anymore, but that happened sometimes. It was normal to settle down a bit after the honeymoon phase – if their few times of starfish sex could be considered a honeymoon phase.

He knew he was being overly mean, but he honestly didn’t give a shit at this point.

It wasn’t until he was having dinner with one of his close friends, Jung Hoseok, that he thought about her again. Hoseok was smiling, handing him some grilled meat, and chatting away. He liked talking to Hoseok. Hoseok made everything more light-hearted and fun. Hoseok was going on about something, but when Yoongi looked up, he saw her. All the way at the front of the restaurant, standing there with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. She was handing an elderly woman in a dirty apron a thick stack of papers and smiling. Tiny white crop top, lips painted dark red and eyes smoked with black. But the elderly owner was smiling, nodding as she pointed to the papers and spoke about them. The silver rings and silver chains flashed in the fluorescent lights.

Hoseok noticed his change in demeanor and turned around.

“Oh, that’s that woman Taehyung was seeing not too long ago,” Hoseok noted, tilting his head. “Taehyungie said she’s some kind of accountant for small businesses, but I didn’t know she did it for this place! Shall we go say hi?”

“No.”

Hoseok turned around, staring at him. “Huh?”

Yoongi looked down, staring at his bowl of rice. “She seems busy. Let her be.”

“Oh... Okay.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He wanted to smash it. Instead, he pulled it out of his pants and stared at it. His girlfriend, asking him to come home and not stay out too late. He frowned at it.

Hoseok prodded him and smiled. “Ah, sorry, have I kept you out too late? You better go home – I’ll pay today.”

Yoongi shook his head, pulling out his wallet. “No, no, I’ll pay. Least I could do,” he said. He pulled out some bills and stood up. “Stay and finish eating. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Hey, hyung,” Hoseok called as Yoongi began to walk away. Yoongi turned to look back at him, seeing his friend’s heart-shaped smile and calming brown eyes.

“You should do what makes you happy, okay? Don’t get too caught up in who you think you should be.”

“Ah… right.”

He left the restaurant, out into the night. The cheer of the bustling street, filled with happy couples and laughing friends. The happy noise taunted him. Yoongi zipped his parka, shoving his phone deep in his pocket. He could smell the delicious scent of meat and rice from the restaurant behind him, mixing with the faint scent of cigarettes and car exhaust.

He looked up and she was there. Standing a little to the side, speaking with an older guy who was eyeing her tits. She shook her head, moving deftly away from his outstretched hand. Her fingers curled into a fist, silver rings flashing.

“Hey.”

Her head whipped around, eyes widening as she recognized him.

“I thought we were leaving? Come on.”

Yoongi grabbed her hand and pulled her along, burying them in the crowd. Her silver rings cut into his hand, but he held it tight, as if he was afraid that she would run away. After a few meters, she pulled her hand from his grasp.

“Oi, you didn’t have to do that,” she said sternly, frowning.

Yoongi shrugged. “I was just trying to save you the assault charges.”

She sighed and raised her hands, as if she was admitting her guilt. “Eh… alright then. Thanks, I guess.”

It was awkward. They never really talked when she was dating Taehyung, mostly because he knew he couldn’t control his mind when he was around her. She was polite to him, but there was definite distance between them.

“Hey, uh… can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head, running the tip of her tongue over her painted lips. Fuck.

“Are you seeing someone?”

“Me?” She pointed to herself and laughed, shaking her head. “Nah, I don’t want to be in a relationship. Just casual sex for me.” She pointed to him. “But aren’t you with someone? I recall Taehyungie telling me you had a cute little girlfriend.”

“We broke up.”

He said it without thinking. His face was neutral. She pursed her lips, watching him carefully.

“Hmm, I see,” she finally said.

He told himself to do it. He wanted it. He wanted it right now.

“Want to come with me for a bit?”

-

That’s how they ended up in the back of Yoongi’s car, her ring-covered hand grabbing the back of his head, pulling his lips to hers. She smelled like dark cherries, sugary and heavy. He felt her hot breath on his lips, her tongue darting out and licking him like a snake.

“What do you want? Your dick sucked? My pussy on your face? Me bouncing on your dick or on all fours?” she whispered, biting his lower lip and tugging on it lightly.

Fuck. All of it and there wasn’t enough time or space. “Don’t tempt me or I’ll rip your clothes off,” he growled.

She chuckled slyly, crashing her lips to his. Her lips were slippery, lipstick smearing against his lips as he kissed her, sucking on her tongue. She moaned into his mouth, so hot and sweet that his cock strained in his pants. She pulled back, lipstick down to her chin. One look in the rearview mirror and he knew he looked the same.

“Damn, Yoongi, you look sexy as fuck,” she breathed, grinning at him.

He felt his cheeks grow hot at the compliment. He hoped the dim streetlights of the parking lot didn’t give him away. She unzipped his parka, pulling his black shirt up his chest. He raised an eyebrow. She smirked, running her nails over his skin, giving him goosebumps. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey, if you’re going to look, let me look too.”

She raised her hands and grinned. “Sure.”

She shrugged off her leather jacket, letting it fall. Pulled down the straps of her tiny white crop top, letting her breasts spill out from the top. His eyes widened seeing her hard nipples right in front of his face. Tinted windows or not, it was still a semi-public area.

It made him even harder, if that was possible.

He reached up and rubbed his thumb against one, breath hitching at the hardness. She raised an eyebrow.

“Please don’t tell me you’re a vanilla boy,” she taunted, rolling her eyes.

His eyes narrowed and he pinched them roughly, making her squeal.

“What was that?” He let his voice drop several octaves, pinching them again.

She winced, but didn’t back down. “Best you can do?”

He gripped her nipples tightly and pulled up, earning him a pained moan. “Who do you think you’re testing?” he drawled, feeling her grind against his lap, too much fabric between them.

“That’s better,” she growled back, cocking her chin defiantly.

He grabbed her breasts and dug his nails into them, rubbing his palms against her nipples. They were deliciously soft, the skin smooth against his callouses. He could feel the cool metal of her silver necklines against his fingertips.

“Take off your jeans.”

She struggled to get out of them, pulling her jeans and panties off together. His heart skipped a beat as he witnessed the string of her juices snap against her thigh, glistening in the low light. The scent of her sex filled the small car, intoxicating him.

“Already wet for me, huh?”

She smirked. “What can I say? I have a weakness for assertiveness.”

He let go of her tits, tracing his fingers on her thighs. The thighs he dreamt about, the thighs he jacked off to when he was alone in the shower, the thighs he watched enviously clamp around Taehyung’s waist right in front of his face. They practically fucked when they were in public and it made him jealous and angry seeing their obvious lust for one another.

He sunk his fingers into those juicy thighs, sucking in a breath in satisfaction. Fuck, they were so fucking soft, so full and sexy in his hands.

“Spread those lips for me,” he breathed, eyes fixated on her pussy.

She leaned back a little, tongue in cheek. His eyes widened as he realized she had a tattoo on the right side of her inner thigh. A laughing cartoonish skull. God, what lucky fuck had done that? She reached down with her ringed fingers and forced her pussy open with two of them, wet, shiny, and quivering, the pink bud swollen with need. His arousal so strong that he would remember it for nights on end.

He reached out and pulled her to him by the waist, sliding his fingers up her inner thigh. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, nipples brushing against his skin. He squeezed the flesh next to her pussy, feeling her juices drip down the back of his hand. She sucked in a breath in anticipation. He turned his hand, brushing a fingertip against her wetness.

“Such a fucking tease,” she hissed, grabbing the back of his head and tangling her fingers in his hair.

He grinned devilishly. “So needy. Tell me what you want.”

Her lips brushed against his, eyes boring into his, burning with desire.

“Finger me with those delicious hands of yours.”

She kissed him, roughly, and he plunged his fingers into her wetness, almost moaning into her mouth as he felt her walls clench around him. He ground his knuckle against her clit as he worked her, turning her into a ruined mess above him. He was sure her juices were dripping onto his pants, covering him with her scent.

“Fuck, Yoongi, fuck!”

He didn’t care if she came or not, just kept pumping his fingers in and out of her, hard and fast. Her necklaces clattered against each other, clinking in rhythm of his thrusts. Each moan was his adrenaline, fingering her so hard she was bouncing in his lap, probably making his car rock with the motion.

He didn’t even care if someone knew. In fact, he wanted someone to know.

Her rings dug into his skin as she gripped onto his shirt, shuddering as she came all over his hand, so slick and wet that he slipped out by accident. He readjusted, but she grabbed his hand, pulling it up.

“You trying to put us in jail?” she snickered, backing up a little.

“If I can still fuck you in jail, does it matter?” he countered, licking his fingers. Oh, God. Sweet with a hint of sour, so fucking delicious that he wanted to drink it out of her right now.

She pushed him up, unbuttoning his pants as she did so. She yanked them down, his bare ass sticking to the leather of his seats. That kind of thing would really annoy him if it wasn’t for her bending down. The metal of her rings felt cool against his cock. She opened her mouth, tongue out and ass up. The image burned into his mind.

Fuck his girlfriend, he should have taken her home so they could have fucked on his bed.

She took him in her hot mouth, swirling her tongue around the head. Down, down. Lips pressed against the base of his cock. He could feel the lipstick leaving an imprint on his skin. Messy and erotic, exactly what he wanted. He pressed his head against the window, groaning as she began to bob her head up and down, awkwardly positioned in the car. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat and he moaned, feeling the muscles grip the head tightly before backing up again. The head scraped against the roof of her mouth, making his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure. Was getting head ever this good? Were lips really this soft, mouths really this tight? Her hands were gripping his hips, rings pinching his skin a little, but he didn’t care. The hint of pain heightened his senses, mixing with the pleasure.

He felt her pause and he looked down, seeing her mouth open just a little. He felt her tongue press against the base of his balls, teasing them and coating them in saliva.

“F-fuck me…” he hissed, breath hitching as she started up again, faster, tighter. He gripped the seat, not wanting to grab her head and ruin her pace. Her tongue pressed against the bottom of the head and he groaned, feeling the familiar tension at the base of his stomach.

“S-shit, I’m going to–”

He didn’t get to grit out any more words, because they turned into a dragged-out moan as he shot into her throat. She swallowed, holding to him tightly. He could hear each gulp loud and clear, punctuating his damnation. She licked him slowly, softly. He gasped at the sensitivity, squeezing his eyes shut as she milked out every last drop.

His dick slid out of her mouth with a wet plop, limply falling between his legs. Dark lipstick down to her chin, smokey eyes devilishly looking up at him. At that moment, Yoongi knew.

She was who he wanted.

-

Yoongi sat in the driver’s seat, wiping his mouth with a spare tissue. He was a sticky mess underneath his clothes. He didn’t really want to think about what he had just done. He could still smell her, her taste still coated on his tongue.

He sighed. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, turning it back on. He waited patiently, sitting in the darkness. He had offered to drop her off wherever she liked, but she just laughed and said she would be fine.

“I’m worried about the poor fool who tries to pick you up,” he had said with a smirk.

She was halfway out of his car, turning back and smiling.

“No promises.”

He touched the scrap of paper on the dashboard. He should throw it away. He felt the vibration of his phone, loading up all the messages and missed calls. He didn’t have to look. He knew who it was. After a long moment, Yoongi unlocked his phone and swiped all the notifications away.

And then he saved a new contact.

-

part ii

--

masterpost

[dreamescapeswriting]

Tricksters ~ KNJ [Request]

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

GENRE: Fake dating, jealously, friends to lovers, first kiss, first I love you

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem Reader

A/N: I made it a Namjoon imagine just because he doesn’t get a lot of requests, neither do the rest of them so I hope this is okay for you!! I’m sorry it’s so short! @rms-moonchild​

There was no huge secret that Namjoon had one of the biggest crushes possible on you, you knew it, BangPD knew it, all the boys knew it and you were pretty sure that even TXT knew about it too. The only problem with that though was that Namjoon would never do anything about it because he was far too scared and nervous about it. Namjoon was scared he would somehow ruin the friendship you had with him and the rest of the boys if he made a move...So he never did, as much as he wanted to he would just hold it back. Despite you making it abundantly clear that you had a crush on him as well he still wouldn't do anything. You'd been dropping many...many...many hints that you would like him to take you out but still, it was like talking to a brick wall. You'd even lost your patience once and asked him out on a date but Namjoon being Namjoon thought you were trying to hang out as friends and brought the boys along ruining the entire night you had planned.

"It's getting to the point where I think I need to write it down for him." You grumbled to Hoseok who was sitting beside you in the dorms. You were close with each of them so it was normal for you to just head to the dorms to hang out for a while. Hoseok chuckled as he shook his head at the thought of Namjoon, he was supposed to be the smartest one out of you all and yet he was still clueless about this.

"On big, giant, humungous cards so that he will finally get the hint," Hoseok added as he pushed some popcorn into his mouth but you began giggling shaking your head at the thought of it though.

"What?" Hoseok questioned turning his head to the side to see what was making you laugh so much but you only started to giggle harder,

"He'd still not get it though...Would he?" You groaned out as you laid down on the sofa with your head on Hoseok's lap. You were dressed in one of his hoodies and some shorts since you were staying over for the night and Hoseok stared down at you.

"I want to do something to grab his attention, m-make him see that I want him and no one else." Hoseok began to run his fingers up and down your skin to try and relax you a little but it wasn't working, if anything it only made your body relax while your brain went into overdrive. Your mind was going back to Namjoon making you overthink, maybe all of you were wrong. Maybe he didn't like you and it was all of you just imagining it in your heads.

"What if he doesn't like me that way? What if we're all wrong?" You were staring down at your hands as you picked apart one piece of popcorn Hoseok watching you disgusting as you ate the pieces you pulled off the kernel.

"Yes because I'm sure all of us who heard him cry out that he's in love with you got it wrong." You rolled your eyes throwing the popcorn kernel up at Hoseok. The boys had come straight to you when Namjoon told them he was in love with you, it was a weird day. They'd been celebrating their newest song when they decided to have a couple of drinks. That was when Namjoon revealed the song had been about his love for you and the struggles he had with it.

"This is serious, what if he doesn't like me that way..." Hoseok was about to say something when the door to the living room opened and Namjoon appeared, your head turned to look at him and your heart seemed to skip a beat. No matter how many times you locked eyes with him he could still make your heart sing out.

"Hey!" You yelled out excitedly as you sat up from Hoseok's lap to greet a tired-looking Namjoon who'd just come in from practice. His heart sunk when he saw how you and Hoseok were laid together on the sofa and that you were dressed in Hoseok's clothes. Normally Namjoon would come home to find you in his clothes since his were your favourite to wear in comparison to everyone else's.

"What are you doing here?" He questioned as he looked between you and Hoseok before you even had a chance to answer Hoseok wrapped his arm around your waist making Namjoon's heart sink deeper into the pit of his stomach.

"Y/n came to spend time with me, right babe?" Your headshot round to look at Hoseok in surprise and Namjoon's mouth fell open as he heard the nickname come from Hoseok. Namjoon could have sworn his heart was shattered onto the floor by now as soon as he heard Hoseok call you babe, everyone knew how he felt about you so why was Hoseok doing this to him? Hobi nudged your stomach as he stared into your eyes waiting for you to say something back to him,

"Y-Yeah, we're watching a movie right baby?" You looked at Hoseok as you began snuggling into him acting as though you were a couple together,

"You're dating?" Namjoon's voice cracked as he asked the question but you nodded your head at him. Now it felt as though someone was stomping on the pieces of his broken heart, he bit down on his tongue to try and pretend to be happy about it. Hoseok was his friend and if dating you was the thing that made him happy he had to respect that.

"How long?" You looked at Hoseok waiting for him to take over since this way his plan and you were just going along with it.

"Just a week-"

"Feels like just two seconds." You laughed awkwardly looking at Namjoon nervously as he nodded his head giving no signs on his face that he was effect by this but his ears were starting to turn a bright red colour which made you feel bad about this. Namjoon scratched the back of his neck trying to think of a way out of the living room when Hoseok looked up at him,

"Watch a movie with us Hyung? It'll be nice." Namjoon's eyes went to you, he could never say no to you so he nodded his head pointing in the direction of his room.

"I'll go shower first, I'm sweaty from practice." You hummed as you went to go and make more popcorn in the kitchen not wanting to have to act like a couple in front of him again. Namjoon turned to Hoseok to speak in your absence but he had no idea where to begin with any of what he was trying to say.

"You know I like her, w-why would you?" Hoseok raised his eyebrows as he looked up at Namjoon waiting for him to say something else about it but he never did. He just walked out of the room in the direction of his bedroom.

After three long and extremely awkward hours of sitting between Hoseok and Namjoon. Namjoon resting his hand on your knee while Hoseok had his arm wrapped around your waist, the entire night was uncomfortable and made you feel uneasy about 'dating' Hoseok just to try and make Namjoon do something. Both of you knew he wouldn't since he liked to put everyone else before himself.

Hoseok had disappeared to his room over an hour ago deciding he wanted to get some sleep and it was getting later, the second movie of the night had finished so you decided to sleep as well.

"Heading to bed?" Namjoon questioned as you got up from the sofa, you nodded your head as you stretched a little, bending backwards to try and crack your back.

"Yes, so move. The sofa is my bed." You laughed softly looking at him but Namjoon frowned as he wondered what you were talking about. He shook his head as he stood up and pointed to where Hoseok's room was,

"You're dating Hoseok, go share his bed." The look on Namjoon's face was enough for you to know he hadn't believed for a second that you and Hoseok were dating,

"What gave it away?" You mumbled to him as he started laughing to himself making you lay down on the sofa closing your eyes.

"The fact that every time Hoseok went to touch you or cuddle you you would get wide-eyed and start moving away." You groaned at him as Namjoon started to laugh harder and sit down, lifting your legs up so you could lay them across his lap.

"In my defence, it was his idea, I just went along with it because I was sick of someone not getting the hint." You said as you opened your eyes to look directly at Namjoon who seemed to be blushing more and more now. Sitting up you looked him dead in the eyes,

"So technically, this is your fault, Mr. Kim. Nam.Joon." You poked his chest after every syllable of his name and he chuckled softly as he shook his head at you. Licking his lips he stared down into your eyes,

"Ask me out on a date." You mumbled to him as you sat on his lap straddling your legs either side of his, he looked into your eyes as he ran his hands up your back slowly.

"Why? We already like each other so we could-" He tried to say something but you shook your head cutting him off.

"Ask me on a date." You repeated to him as you waited for him to ask you, he rolled his eyes playfully before finally asking the question you'd been waiting for this entire time.

"Will you go on a date with me?" You faked a shocked gasp in the most dramatic way you could possibly do and looked at him. Laying your hand on his chest you smiled,

"Why Namjoon! I never thought you would ask-" He shut you up by kissing you deeply not wanting to be teased for it any more than he knew he was going to from the boys. Wrapping his arms around your body he pressed your chest against his as he pulled your body close to his. Not for one second letting you go as he picked you up to carry you to his bedroom.

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @rjsmochii​ @bisexualmess007​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​

[blackcatanna]

Tale of the Demon Arms of Horniness Part ??? IDFK it's been a month and I am sick of Iba and Chizuru's SHIT just kiss already or leave each other alone

Last time I played this, I remember getting drunkish and spending a long-ass time ranting at the weird purity complex that this route seems to have but now I don't have any alcohol to numb that pain so I'm going to maybe read more, rant less because I am ONLY ON CHAPTER THREE and I am so done already. I remember parts of this route being fucked up but I didn't remember how much of it was just plain boring. Now that Sen is here and Iba is injured with silver bullets, I'm not looking forward to ANOTHER stretch of Iba and Chizuru being cooped up in a house together doing nothing but being awkward and refusing to agknowledge their feelings.

Also, I am writing this on my laptop for once, so I might fuck some stuff up. Let's goooo...

Okay, ushering these two incredibly hot women into the Repression Den. I feel like a Sen or Kimigiku route would have been so much more fun than this... Although, do I trust the devs to not cock it up?

"Iba's piety showed" yeah, he's such a fucking saint, we get it, SHEESH.

"Iba, there are only two men against whom your power must be used: Takeda and Kodo." YUP.

"I ask that you take her along with you." YES. PLEASE. FUCK. TAKE ME AWAY FROM THIS NONSENSE TO LESBIAN DEMON PARADISE.

"I suppose, like I had feared, my welcome with Iba had been overstayed, and I kept my mouth shut." THE COMMUNICATION IS NON EXISTENT.

Fuck, I'm about a minute in and already pissed off >_<

Omg, he's having to explain the horniness to Sen XD Omfg! I hope she tells them to get over it and fuck already!

"Not only am I appalled by their single-mindedness, but also their disrespect towards women of our kind." Oooh, snap! Sen is coming for Kazama and Takeda on this day. But why aren't Iba, Takeda and Kazama horny for Sen and Kimigiku?

"Sen, do you have any idea what kind of changes are happening within Iba and Takeda's bodies right now...?" Omfg, Sen is about to give us the Demon Puberty Talk. X_X

"A human's force of will pales in comparison to a Demon's," I feel like this a concept that is 100% not supported by the rest of the game. Like... BITCH, WHERE???

Omfg, the game is really trying to explain why Sen and Kiku aren't affected, "must clearly take root in feelings that already exist." AS IF Takeda looked at Chizuru for a second with lust in his heart. I refuse to believe! Maybe he was turned on when she tried to stab him. That wasn't meant to sound euphemistic.

Oh, OH, omfg. So, she's saying that TAKEDA'S horniness is a DIRECT RESULT of him being linked to IBA via the demon arms XD Ffs. This just gets stupider and stupider.

There's so much exposition in this route (and Sen is the lucky bitch in charge of giving a lot of it) in an attempt to justify this batshit insane plot. Like... JUST LET SEN BE A CHARACTER, NOT AN EXPOSITION MACHINE/ DEUS EX MACHINA.

WOW, Sen really came and said, "Why are all you dudes so insistent on fighting a losing battle?" and I kind of agree with her... Like, the only reason Iba is citing is "loyalty" but none of them in the route's I've played so far explain why they are so loyal to the Shogun specifically... I feel like being loyal and noble and blah blah is great and all except they're literally killing people and destroying lives... Is it just for the sake of their pride? PEOPLE ARE DYING KIM IBA. I feel like this would make so much more sense if we got more of their backstories, especially characters like Souma and Iba who were added later. They feel woefully underdeveloped. I feel like there IS more to it but I feel like by the point they wrote these routes, we were just expected to accept that SHINSENGUMI SHINY AND GOOD, EVERYONE ELSE STINKY AND BAD AND DESERVES TO DIE.

"Those who would abandon their cause and their people in times of strife aren't warriors in my eyes." Maybe their cause is different to yours, Iba. Also, what even is your cause? Seriously, what is it?

"Wathcing Iba wax poetic about his duty was truly awe-inspiring," UGH -_-

"In life and in war, victory isn't all that matters. What matters is preserving what we deem precious." YES BITCH. Sen is one of the only sane people in this game, omg.

"How are you so obtuse not to understand that women are capable of bearing the same burden...?" YES SEN. GET HIS ASS. EVISCERATE HIM!

"she has dedicated her life to you," well... hang on...

"I decided to express my honest feelings." FUCKING FINALLY, HOLY SHIT X_X

"although I'd wanted to shout affirmatively, I feared that doing so would only hurt him more. My answer was timid but resolute." because she's the perfect, uwu delicate maiden. She must not hurt the man with her aggressive expressions! Ladies, take notes! This is the epitome of femininity! Note how long she held back her vulgar, hysterical emotions, lest they impose upon the tranquility of her man.

"As long as I'm with you... I don't care what happens to me." Hmm. Is this healthy?

"am I merely at the mercy of your pity?" FUCK RIGHT OFF, IBA. Actually, it is probably healthy for him to express this now rather than letting it fester. But I feel like every time he says some self deprecating shit like this, Chizuru does nothing to encourage him, and vice versa. Hopefully, it'll be different this time...

"It's because... I love you, Iba." HOORAY, CHEERS, CONFETTI, CAKE! FUCKING FINALLY!

"Suddenly, Iba jolted as if he were struck by a bolt of lightning, and his eyes illuminated with light." XD What is this beauty and the beast shit? Is he about to transform into a hideous monster and Chizuru has to reaffirm her love or he eats her?

"I am... undeserving of your love." well, you have it so suck it up. If you don't feel the same, that's fine but if you do, stop bitching.

"I committed myself to my training, hoping that, in the process, I would become worthy of your love." Wow... WOW. Okay, lot to unpack here... Firstly, that's INSANE. Like, dangerously obsessive. Secondly, she was a TINY CHILD, even younger than Iba. Thirdly, WHAT DO YOU EVEN LOVE ABOUT HER, IBA??? LIKE, SERIOUSLY, WHAT??? Fourthly, no woman EVER wants the object of her affection to spend a huge amount of time AWAY from her in order for him to become more "worthy" of her love. If she's ever gonna love you back, she wants you to stay and be with her! No amount of fancy sword play is gonna convince her to love you after you haven't interacted in years. At that point, you're in danger of falling for a sunk cost fallacy because you HAVE to maintain your affection for this woman, even though she may very well have grown into a completely different person from the LITERAL CHILD you knew her as. This is WEIRD. AH.

"...even if you had already chosen another suitor in my stead." O_e

"It is drawn to you in a way that is unlike how I'd felt about you as a young boy." .... I smell this game's weird purity complex rearing its head again... Gross. Surely no one wants to be loved like a young boy loves a little girl, right? Is this weird? Like, people grow up and go through puberty and are horny sometimes. That's okay! Seriously! Obviously, having a second entity living in your head must be AWFUL and traumatic, invasive, all the bad things but there's not just "pure and innocent like a child" and "horny rape monster" ... there is a middle ground!

Like, I KNOW that the story in this game involves Iba and Chizuru resolving their weird puritanical hangups about love and sex and whatever so maybe the game itself is not pushing the "purity is good" angle at me but I came here to keyboard smash at 2D anime sprites and I shall continue to do so as long as they continue to say stupid things.

"If this keeps up, I'm afraid that it would conquer my true feelings for you, and that the difference would escape you entirely." tbf, that is a legitimate concern that I understand.

"Iba's eyelids trembled to the beat of his anguish." XD I'm sorry, fucking WHAT WAS THAT??? XD

"my love for you isn't dependent on whether or not you're fit yo protect me." You tell him, queen.

"I fell in love with you because of the sunshine in your eyes. That kindness, that laugh..." This is legit. I hoppe that Iba responds in kind or I shall remain baffled!

"My heart is yours to keep. That's a promise." Awe :D :D Chizuru is being a sweet li'l bean!

SMOOCHIN'!?!?! IN THIS GOOD CHRISTIAN HOUSEHOLD??? Omfg, this game loves to use the word "supple" to describe a character's lips. Everyone has supple lips and slender fingers, apparently. I was very squicked out just now playing through Souma's bad endings and the narration describing the "supple lips" of Souma's literal corpse after he was run through by Miki. Like, wtf??!?

Iba still hasn't given any indication about what he likes about Chizuru, other than, I guess, her vulnerability... which, uh, okay... I may be wrong, though. I get that she's supposed to be a stand in for the player, so she doesn't get to have too many personality traits but I liked the bit in Saito's route where he looks into her eyes and comments on how honest she is.

This scene is cute, though :D YUS, SMOOCH >:)

"we were beginning to question if it could ever happen." HONESTLY, SAME. Thank fucking god...

"Then, something peculiar occurred.." Oh no, is this gonna be weird arm shit X_X

THE VOICES HAVE BEEN APPEASED.

I don't know who the biggest shipper is in this fucking route: Sen, Motoyama, Hijikata or Iba's Demonic appendage...

"Could you please summon Sen and Kimigiku?" XD Iba wants to conduct a post-makeout breakdown with his bestest girlfriends!

"Iba began recounting what had happened with boundless enthusiasm." XD This is AWKWARD (but cute)

"Interesting..." XD I love you, Sen

"The force of your emotional resolve has earned the respect of the Demon soul" XD omfg, until now, was it just screaming, "OMFG, YOU PUSSY! YOU WANT HER, STOP BEING SUCH A DRIP ABOUT IT. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER. DO BETTER." WAIT... That sounds like me...

"What?! Don't mock me!" XD Chizuru, this is why you literally have no friends. Well, until recently...

"Hm, he's really taking his time." IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO MOTOYAMA, I AM GOING TO BE VERY UPSET >:(

Here comes the boy-ooooy!

"It's unfortunate that we've given you men's attire," I too wish that Chizuru could play dress-up more often. Although, I always find looking at her character sprite jarring because of how absurdly big her eyes are. She looks like a goddamn child or a character from a different game... (or a porg...)

"We're friends, after all." I guess but it feels quite lopsided...

CHAPTER 4 BABY!!! FINALLY.

RIP The Shinsengumi: In which our heroine gets used as a meat shield!

"Hey! Y'know, if you were alive this whole time, you coulda sent us a letter or somethin'!" omfg Chizuru, you are THE WORST XD Again, why you have no fucking friends!

Bless Nomura, he seems really upset XD Chizuru and Iba are kind of thoughtless, huh...

It's especially sad given that he's about to DIE HORRIBLY :'(

Omg, Iba's voice when he sees Hijikata XD I feel like if he hadn't made that stupid vow to himself about Chizuru as a child, he would have realised his strong feelings for Hijikata. YOU KNOW WHAT, I SHIP IT. I GENERALLY DON'T PARTAKE IN SHIPPING BUT I WILL MAKE AN EXCEPTION THIS ONE TIME. After putting up with him and Chizuru for hours and then seeing him with Hijikata, I am SWAYED.

Otori looks like a child too... He looks like a gentleman detective in a point and click game and Enomoto looks like his butler.

"President...? That's a rather important position, isn't it?" I know that Chizuru knows shit all about politics (despite being embedded in the Shinsengumi for so long) but does she have to sound stupid every time she opens her mouth? I know that Queen Sensposition isn't here to explain everything for us, so I guess someone needs to prompt the exposition train to get going... I just feel like she's so child like... I do not like... Maybe I am getting ooooold (I'm 25)

"Say, I haven't seen Kondou, Saito, or Okita anywhere..." ... The stupidity intensifies... If she actually gave a fuck, she could have written to the Shinsengumi at any point... But it's all IBA IBA IBA...

She didn't mention Harada or Nagakura but bless Hijikata for imagining that she cares. I just... I feel like Chizuru is one of those people who declares herself SUCH and empath but never makes any effort to look out for the people she professes to feel for.

Iba, why are you comforting Chizuru? Didn't you know these guys growing up? Tbf, he didn't write to them either...

Chizuru third wheeling in on Hijikata and Iba's moment "alone" -_-

"Who's after her...? Is it Kazama or Amagiri?" XD How dare you slander Amagiri like this? Also, clearly even Hijikata gets gay vibes from Shiranui.

"In truth, this is a little hard to believe," RIGHT?!? Hijikata knows that this plot is far-fetched bullshit.

"He craves offspring." XD Wow, what an unbelievably offputting way of explaining that, thank you. Also, you neglected to mention that the reason he's after Yukimura is because of your own desires, Iba XD

"I guess if Yukimura's not whining about it in usual form then you're probably right." XD Exqueeze me, Hijikata?!?! How dare! Is he wrong, though? I feel like Yukimura isn't a whiner in general but when she does, it's about stupid stuff to do with her own maidenly modesty and shit.

Is Iba gonna defend her... I guess not! To be fair, she did her fair share of whining about not being good enough for Iba, not wanting to be a burden, blah blah blah.

"it's a load off my back because now I can't order you to your death." bless Hiji-mama.

"Just do me a favour and take all of this in. Hold onto our memories if you can. I want everyone to remember how we lived." :'( Hijikata, you're gonna make me cry, oh my god D:

"Fury powers are nothing to fuck with," XD Hijikata, I have dearly missed you!

Just casually dropping in that Heisuke and Sanan died, not that Chizuru or Iba ever asked...

"Heeeey! Hijikata, Iba! Just how long you guys gonna chat for?!" DAMMIT, NOMURA! Let the manly compassion blossom! Chizuru, you gtfo too! Distract everyone!

MOTOYAMA PLEASE GO EASY ON THE SAKE

"Always with the Sake around here." I guess that's one way of coping with your inevitable demise :( I hope that they are having some fun! :D

"I mean, who knows how long we've got." :) :) :,) :,(

"Have you ever drunk whisky before, Iba...?" NGL, I REALLY want to see Iba DRUNK. ANYTHING to make him loosen up a little.

"Care to try some, Chizuru?" YUS >:D

"Don't be an idiot, Nomura. Can't you read context clues...?" Souma, you are definitely asking too much of this boy. Although, both of you idiots thought that Chizuru was a MAN for WAY, WAAAAAYY too long...

"Souma, you waste your time." XD I love how Otori is always keen to join in the roasting! At least he isn't meowing this time, nya!

"It may take Nomura another ten years before he begins to comprehend the nuances of romance, and another ten afterwards until he can use them." WOW. Jesus. Poor guy's gonna be dead soon and you just came for him so hard! Maybe he's ace! Maybe he's gay!

"I s'pose his simplicity just ads to his charm." XD That's sweet, Shimada. Poor Nomura... Tbf, I have seen people asking for routes for Takeda and Miki, Kimigiku and Sen and Shiranui and Amagiri but never anyone asking for routes for Nomura and Motoyama...

"Hey, are you guys makin' fun of me!" X_X

OoooOOh! Iba and Chizuru are sneaking off alone...

"If I'm not mistaken, your room is... here, I think?" Uh-huh... :) "Looks like it. I think your room is to the left of mine, and mine is right here." Uh-huuuuuh! :) :) "Pretty convenient, huh...?" Uh-HUUUH >:D >:D >:D "So... they're right next to each other, eh...?" OMFG XD come ON!

"Say, Chizuru... May I invite you to chat in my room for a bit...?" Uwu! Ye olde Netflix and chill ;)

C'mon, girl! Climb him like a tree!

This session has actually been more enjoyable than the previous ones, now that the weird repression and horny demon arm stuff has stopped being so prominent...

"Huh? As in..." Oh, we have all seen Mama Mia! We know what DOT, DOT, DOT means ;)

"For a split second, I wondered if there were ulterior motives in his invitation, and I froze up." Uh... I don't know what to tell you, girl... I also don't entirely know what you mean by "ulterior motives" girl, you can stop at any time or back out, it's okay. You do not have to fuck him. You can have a nice, cosy time.

Oh no, she's actually having flashbacks to him on top of her D: TRAUMA! GET THIS GIRL TO A THERAPIST! D: Poor Chizuru :(

"my back dimples tensed." XD Uh, what?

"So, we're just going to talk, right...?" YES GIRL, ESTABLISH BOUNDARIES! CONSENT IS SEXY AF! Make SURE that you're both on the same page! Of coyrse, he should NEVER assume that you're dtf just because you agree to chill with him but a girl's gotta be careful and it's very telling how someone reacts to that question. If they get defensive, RUN!

"Yes, I promise... As long as my sanity holds, at least." IBA XD That is not encouraging. Well, it is in that it's very honest. Bless him for that.

"I couldn't discern whether or not Iba was being truthful, and I felt a little uneasy in his company." Daaaamn, Chizuru! You're so valid! I feel like they have some serious issues to work through in their relationship. If you don't believe someone when they say that they won't rape you (because that's what it is, let's be real), the two of you definitely need to build trust, definitely take things slow.

"I, too, have had intimate thoughts about you..." Uwu. Good, liking this. He's being open about his feelings, not trying to hide them to spring them on her later when she's in his room like so many manchildren do.

"Especially now... I must admit, I am somewhat inebriated." XD Girl, run! Unless, you're confident you want to hit that, say goodnight!

"I cannot" or "You are all I care about." Ah yes, the old "To fuck or not to fuck" :) Let's try both! Not to fuck first... (side note: does anyone else feel like they can't fuck someone until they've rejected their sexual advances at least once to see how they'll react? Like, otherwise, I'd be wondering the whole time how they'd react if I didn't give them what they want. Is that fucked up?) Let's see how Iba reacts...

"I really like you, Iba. I do, but..." Omg, "like"?!?! what happened to "love"?????

"...I'm only kidding." BITCH, YOU WERE NOT! I SEE YOU LIEING TO ME. HMMMMMM. CONCERN >:(

"Your feelings take precedence above anything, so I shall honor your wish." Okey dokey! This is what I like to hear! NOW we can fuck >:D

Chizuru is SHOOK that he accepted her response and, tbf, he does seem a bit pouty for my liking.

WAIT, WHAT?!?!? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??? "We were bundled next to each other, wrapped up in our cotton sheets in one bed." ????

Wait, not only did they somehow end up in bed together, now Chizuru's sitting here thinking about dead people to punish me for chosing the non-horny option XD

Oh wait, we still get the cute, cuddly cg! I still cannot fathom how we ended up in bed together XD Is it going to be exactly the same if I click the horny option...?

"My heart galloped like a stallion in my chest." XD Okay...

"You're trembling. How precocious of you." The fuck does that mean?

"I mean, this is my first time." Time for The Sex, y'all...

"I won't rush you." the four sexiest words in the English language! To be clear, I am not being sarcastic. Consent is sexy :D It frees us!

"His cool, calm demeanor was so coaxing..." Go get that ass, Chizuru!

Ah yes, montage of sadness! "Are you thinking of your friends right now?" BITCH, I THOUGHT THEY WERE YOUR FRIENDS, TOO! Or do you only have eyes for Hijikata?

Chizuru, ffs, your feelings are valid. Stop saying you have "no right" to feel this or that. It's stupid.

"I felt like a little girl again, and I felt gratified by his supple, ambrosial kiss." Uh... Okay...

"You never have to apologize for crying." YES, TELL HER, IBA >:D

"I accept you, all of you, and this will never change." But can you tell me who she is, though, babes?

"Iba's upbringing was well-represented by his regal demeanor, and I couldn't help but blush." XD Girl, control yourself.

"A naive part of me believed that we could neglect the concerns of the outside world," naive indeed X_X How could you think this? There's a war on. Sorry, I'll leave the poor girl alone.

"Swagger bellowed from Iba's stern voice, almost as if he were convincing me to fight Takeda myself." XD Now, THAT I would love to see! Remember how well it went last time? Tbf, Chizuru wasn't killed and it was very funny!

"his tender lips wrapped around my cut." Omfg, the writers found a thesaurus!

"I had to halt the urge to laugh as his longue flicked droplets of blood, as it tickled me." XD Chizuru, laugh away! It might help assuage his pointless guilt!

"I am thrilled to savor the taste of your blood, and no one else's." O_O Okay, that's... a lot! But I'm calling that positive character growth! I guess it's a kink thing now! I can absolutely get behind that! This is a kink positive space!

"There was a keen pleasure to be taken in being Iba's sole proprietor of blood, and as long as he had use of me, I was his for the taking." And the intensity gets dialed up even more, holy cow! As I said, kink positive space! I feel like there's a lot of kink in this game, ngl...

"Nomura was a lively and curious sole" everyone in this game is a cat

"For those with severe lacerations, or dismembered limbs, we were ordered essentially to offer comfort in their final moments, which was a depressing task." War... war never changes... Good for you guys, though!

"If I were an outsider to their organization, I would have thought it foolish--suicidal, even." I see you calling my shit out, Chizuru!

"To tell you the truth, I've been wondering for years... why men fought unwinnable wars." I feel like, for me, it's not that it's unwinnable that's confusing to me. It's more why this is the cause they have chosen to die for. Interestingly, I feel like it's personal for each character, even though they're fighting under the same banner. Maybe I'll get more of the bigger picture if I play Hijikata's route and watch the anime prequel with Ibuki.

That being said, when I did GCSE Religious Studies (XD), we were taught that a "just war" is one where there is a reasonable chance of success... but that's very hard to establish because you never know what alliances can potentially be formed with more powerful factions... idk this is more than I signed up for in this VN XD I love it, though!

"They are imbued with purpose beyond their own fragile existence. We have reason to honor them." See, I get where he's coming from. BUT I feel like there's a problem here and that's the glorification of warriors in this game. I feel like... a lot of important things come secondary to their ideal of bushidou. Like, precious human life. A lot of killing goes on. Killing of faceless men who we're encouraged to hate or think of as sword/plot fodder. It's like what Sen says to Iba about how stupid he must be to not realise that women can also have strong resolve. The people who are collateral damage in this war also probably had their own purpose, their own goals. Why do some people defect to the winning side? Perhaps their goals aren't politically aligned and rely on them staying alive to complete them. I feel like there's a lack of respect for those people from certain characters (Souma, Iba, I am squinting at you).

"In that way, they are samurai more than bakushin could ever be." NOW, I feel like, as a samurai, you have a certain level of responsibility to your people and, often, (not always) that might mean not sending them off to die... The freedom to die for the cause you choose is something I would associate with ronin (which is, apparently, a dirty word in this game).

"he waxed poetic" AGAIN. THIS is my problem with Iba and Souma. They talk a lot about ideals and honour and bushidou and not enough about their own personal drives. All these pretty words are not enough to justify taking all of the lives they have done. Please tell me more about what you, YOU fight for, less about what you believe a warrior SHOULD fight for.

MOTOYAMA NOOOOOO

I mean, obviously, HIJIKATA NOOOOOO but I knew he would die whereas I had forgotten about our Moon Boy, Motoyama. :(

Awe, poor Iba :( He is so sad D,:

AN UNSETTLING MAN, YOU SAY???? >:D

FEASTING ON BLOOD, YOU SAY 8D

"Let's go" FUCK YEAH >:D

Wow, Iba intimidation checked the fuck out of that soldier! :O

OOOOOH! SPOOKY MUSIC! Last time I heard this was when Souma and Nomura left Chizuru to get kidnapped and brought to her gross dad...

TAKEDA! Eating people as usual, I hope?

"A sloppy mess of blood coated Takeda's lips and cheeks, and he slurred his words like a drunkard" Yaaaay! :D Why is Takeda so fucked up XD I love him and his terrible life choices

OMFG I JUST SAT AND CACKLED FOR, LIKE, 30 SECONDS. "He dropped a half-eaten arm to the ground, which hit the floor with a dull, sickening thud." MY DUDE. WOW. Like, I feel like he didn't need to go that hard. All the Rasetsu drink a little blood but this guy was fully munching on some poor dude's arm. THIS IS WHAT I MEAN WHEN I TALK ABOUT TAKEDA EATING PEOPLE. NOT LIKE THE OTHER RASETSU DO. FOR SOME REASON, HIM AND HIS SQUAD ARE FULL-ON CHOMPERS. IT'S FUCKED UP AND I AM OBSESSED. It's definitely not sexy and I love that.

"At Takeda's feet was a gruesome array of scattered remains," DISSAPPOINTED that they elected not to insert the word "buffet" here... or SMORGASBORD!

"he was off, gathering fresh prey for me" Takeda has made Kodo his cannibal chef. LOVE THAT FOR HIM.

"Saito found him and gutted that senile fuck." YES SAITO!!! COME THROOOUGH!!! LOVE THAT FOR YOU, YAASS QUEEN. Also, love that Takeda refers to Kodo as a "senile fuck." bit ageist but Kodo is definitely a "fuck".

"Father had been... murdered by Saito." WOAH BITCH, CALM DOWN. I feel like killing some creepy dude on the opposing side in a war rounding up victims to be feasted upon is not a "murder".

"And, so long as a precious morsel like you exists, the possibility of creating offspring does as well." ... Does Takeda not know how heterosexual sex works??? Is he going to EAT US???

"I grow tired of hearing your meager attempts at heroism buzz in my ear." Honestly, same (sorry, Iba)

"Show me how 'different' you are then, bastard." Iba claims he is not like other girls, Takeda is intrigued...

I feel like Takeda pulls off the red eyes and white hair look better than Iba (sorry again, babes)

"an ominous, toxic miasma floated inches from the surface of his skin, making it so that I couldn't stand to stare at him for long." Oooh! Neato! This route could've been so much better if there was more of this horriffic shit! Less Chizuru and Iba sitting in a house together being repressed and awkward, more body horror >:D

Takeda opens with an excellent villain laugh, automatically scoring him additional points!

Na...ni? THAT'S RIGHT, BITCH! IBA HAS THE POWERS OF LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP ON HIS SIDE NOW >:D

"This is inconceivable!" alright, guy from The Princess Bride! Tbf, how the fuck is Iba suddenly able to keep up with him? He (Iba) seemed so confident, too... Has he been snacking on the side? Is Chizuru's blood strengthening him? It would be HILARIOUS if their strength was shared between the two arms, much like horny daydreams are...

CAN I JUST SAY, I LOVE the nails that these two queens are sporting on their demon hands! I feel like Iba could have used his during the blood drinking scenes like Lady Gaga does in AHS...

"Y-You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth! H-How could you possibly w-win?!" Maybe those two things are related. Takeda weakened himself by toiling in the fields to pay off his student loans and also pay rent.

"As of now, I am just a man. A man of purpose." ... Is this all the explanation we're gonna get???

"Besides, what's status to you anyway? Don't you think you are a little obsessed?" OMFG IBA XD IBA IS CANCELLED, EVERYONE! Check your privilege, slut! How the fuck would you know what it's like to be born without the advantages you have? To have to constantly fight for everything you want, or even need to survive?

"The Demon's arm has chosen its victor, and it knows that I am who's destined to protect her." D: Omg, that actually makes sense but also, idk... It makes me feel bad for Takeda (YES, THE GUY WHO STILL HAS VISCERA FROM THE ARM HE WAS JUST CHOMPING ON SMEARED ALL OVER HIS FACE. DON'T JUDGE ME, OKAY). Like, he was abandoned (murdered, historically) by the Shinsengumi, rejected by Itou and now even this freaky demonic arm is rejecting him, despite all of the delicious, nutritious blood he has been feeding it. :( AND ALL OF IT IS 100% JUSTIFIED. HE IS FULLY AN ASSHOLE WHO SHOULD BE STOPPED. I still feel kind of bad, though XD

"He began cackling,i and went into a series of taunts." YAS, VILLAIN, GO OFF! This is what I came to SEE!! 8D

Hey, where's the blood on his face :( I get why they didn't add it to his sprite but I feel like they could've in this cg :(

"Aw, what's wrong, Hachiro Iba?! You'll have to stab the both of us at the same time, won't you?!" BOLD of Takeda to assume that this will be a problem for these two demonic babies!

OMFG OMFG YES, "Takeda wielded me like a meat shield," !!!!!! BEST LINE IN THIS GAME, HANDS DOWN. TAKEDA. WIELDED. ME. LIKE. A. MEAT. SHIELD. THIS IS PEAK NARRATION AND I AM SO HERE FOR IT.

"Gah! Let go of me!" The fuck does anyone ever think this will accomplish?

"Ha! You think me stupid, girl?" that's a generous interpretation...

This is almost a smart move from Takeda but I feel like he underestimated just how unappealing the prospect of a life with him is to Chizuru... Like, he understandably did not anticipate her response of, "Fuck it, just stab him THROUGH me..."

"Iba! Iba, I'm fine! Just stab through me and Takeda!" XD

"You don't have the guts to do it!" XD You might think so AND YET...

"And then everything went black" ROLL CREDITS... LITERALLY, THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS XD These bitches want me to think I got a bad ending (does Chizuru die if I don't choose to fuck him?)

OMFG I ACTUALLY FINISHED THIS! JUST THE EPILOGUE AND BAD ENDINGS TO GO!

Final Chapter: It's a Girl! In which our heroine is NOT DEAD and also finally gets to wear her preferred clothing style again!

You know, when I see this lovely shade of blue smattered across the sky, I'm reminded of something. Do you want to guess what it is...?" :O Could it be... a Shinsengumi uniform? Also, this is giving me Kingdom Hearts vibes for some reason... Probably all the blue and tranquility juxtaposed with some fucked up chaos...

Omfg, XD, why does he look so SHOOK that she's opening her eyes... Wait, is this the first time since he STABBED her almost to death?

"Wh-Where are we?" HELL! My sword got stuck in your hefty demon spine and Takeda stabbed me while I was trying to yank it out >:D

HE TRIMMED HIS NAILS!!!! Oh no. I am NOT here for this! They're still long and red but I feel like he should have grown the nails on his other hand more, to match! :D And PAINTED THEM :D

This meadow is very Howl's Moving Castle...

"Wh-Where's Takeda...?" AND HE'S HERE TOO! He choked on a finger bone and came down here to join us! We're best buds now :) ... I am aware that this is not funny. Can you imagine, though, if Takeda just popped out from behind a bush, like, "Hey girl! Don't worry! I'm good now! AND I have been keeping your bf company ^_^ ;)"

"No one is left to stand in our way." ... Iba, has the demon arm been giving you world domination-y thoughts?

"Would you mind not calling me 'Iba'? Now that we're lovers, and all." and also since you, apparently, renounced that name and the responsibilities that come along with it, due to possession of the demon arm... Whenever I read through Japanese history and see how many name changes people go through, I can't believe how intolerant people are of people changing their names these days... (It's usually because of transphobia, I guess... DO BETTER)

"our boundaries were now entirely gone." Uh... Did the stabbing do that or did you go through some sleep thereapy?

"When we were children, this is what I had called him," GOD, they really love hammering the innocent childhood love bullshit home, don't they?

"Hachi...ro..." "Well done..." o_e HMMM... THIS IS MAKING ME A WEE BIT UNCOMFY. WHY IS HE TALKING TO HER LIKE SHE IS A CHILD?

"Just you and me." HMM... Seems a bit unhealthy... Both of them need to get some FRIENDS! Doesn't Iba have a family? What about the surviving Shinsengumi boys?

"Every whim you desire, I shall cater to you." Come through, love butler!

PHEW!

ALRIGHTY! Now for the fun stuff! I will make a seperate post, I think! HOLY FUCK, IT IS COMPLETE! I mostly remembered the fucked up bits from this route like Takeda chomping on limbs and Iba's freaky horny outbursts but I feel like those were the best bits... I can't wait to play through the bad endings because I haven't got any of them yet, I don't think 3:)

[z34l0t]

Closing Argument

This post contains spoilers for Breaking Bad Season 6.

Those Better Call Saul writers are some cold-hearted bastards.

Just a few episodes after a central character was given a Christ-like ending (poor Nacho — betrayed by Gus before sacrificing himself to save his family), the writers of Better Call Saul succeeded in humanizing Howard Hamlin and made him a sympathetic character, only to immediately have him meet an ignominious end.

Redemption arcs never bode well for characters in Vince Gilligan's universe. I'm reminded of Grant Morrison's JLA: Earth Two graphic novel, which proposed the existence of a universe where "evil" always prevails. The arc of the Gilliganverse likewise bends towards corruption: Characters readily fall into drug dealing, theft, infidelity, fraud, and murder. They redeem themselves only to die shortly thereafter.

That tanned, well-dressed, golf-playing Howard Hamlin ended up being Saul Goodman's nemesis (instead of one of the show's many murderous thugs) is a cynical commentary from the show's creators; it also serves to differentiate this show from other lawyer-centric ones. On a different series, in a different era of television (before Tony Soprano paved the way for small screen antiheroes), Hamlin may well have been a title character. His name seems to be a deliberate nod to L.A. Law star Harry Hamlin, just as his blonde hair and expensive suits draw easy comparisons to the slick corporate lawyer played by Corbin Bernsen on the same show. But in the Gilliganverse, with its affable drug dealers and honorable cartel enforcers, Hamlin's glowing appearance and manicured charm made him suspect. When the title character drives around in a Suzuki Esteem with mismatched doors, anyone who owns a Jag is a clear choice for an antagonist.

Hamlin's redemption arc began back in Season 4, when the writers chipped away at his perfect image to reveal a much more damaged, vulnerable character. At the same time, dishonest but relatable Jimmy McGill was slowly taking the form of the amoral, self-serving Saul Goodman we originally met in Breaking Bad. The series is post-modern in this way — actors play characters who themselves assume different roles. Michael Mando's Nacho is an embedded spy/saboteur who had to be all things to all people in public, even as he was privately held hostage. Giancarlo Esposito plays a cartel boss who hides in plain sight behind the non-threatening image of a fast food restaurateur. Bob Odenkirk flexes his significant sketch comedy chops to play Jimmy's various personas: A retirement home BINGO announcer; a helpful phone salesman; and, in one of the few instances of broad comedy presented in season 6, he even pretended to be Howard. The show's directors have a habit of showing us these characters as they're reflected/refracted in various surfaces, allowing the audience to see their duplicitous and fractured selves.

Howard, it turns out, had also been putting on a facade. His marriage was falling apart, and we witnessed how his attempts at magnanimity and reconciliation were icily rebuffed by his wife, who could barely hide her contempt for him as he struggled to maintain his sunny exterior. Though we witnessed his actual execution an episode later, this terse scene was more heartbreaking.

The divide between heroes and villains is a matter of perspective: By allowing the audience to experience Howard's, the writers automatically make black hats of Jimmy and Kim  - and thus their plans to disrupt his life seem needlessly cruel and vindictive. In his final scene, Howard was allowed to give his side of the rivalry. For actor Patrick Fabian, it was a dramatic monologue; for the attorney that Fabian portrayed over the course of 6 seasons, it was a closing argument. 

Howard made irrefutable points: The resentment towards him was petty, and Kim and Jimmy were both deeply ungrateful for the opportunities Howard provided them. The two decided to exact revenge on Howard for his wealth and good looks, being an exacting boss, and following the wishes of Jimmy's own brother. And in having Howard berate Jimmy and Kim, the writers were also obliquely addressing the audience who reveled in his downfall.

If you've seen enough horror movies, you probably sensed that the empty space in the top left corner of the screen during Howard's diatribe portended danger; when Lalo (presumed dead) enters the scene, it's with all the menace of a Hammer Horror vampire, candles flickering to announce his arrival as his shadow slowly occupies that dead space. That the other characters stammer ineffectually while he calmly screws the silencer on his pistol is darkly comic; Howard, having completed his redemption arc, was given one last kick by the writers as he stated the obvious ("I think I'm in the middle of something") while cravenly trying to exit the situation. The scene's similarity to a classic Simpsons scene is probably unintentional, but that doesn't make it less comedic. Or Howard's death any less undignified.

Pour one out for poor Howard. Hopefully he's in a better place —like a series on the USA Network where rich, good looking people don't exist solely to be laid low by pranksters and television writers.

[eutaerpe]

the escapades (m)

pairing — jimin x reader

genre/warnings—  smut (oral, fingering, orgasm denial) & college!au, fratboy!jimin, brief e2l, brief ewb, acr universe

summary —  the one where there’s a lot of unresolved sexual tension, until there isn’t.

notes — 8.3k words of the happiness before the storm i couldn’t write. i realised halfway through this there’s a slight plotwise change in comparison to what i wrote in acr so. yeah. sorry. kudos to you if you find it lol

The first time it happens, you’re pretending to be someone you’re not.

You’re sitting near the end of the table, crossing your legs and playing with the hem of your dress, your lips twisted into a frown. The real reason lying behind the simple decision of having a single, almost infinite table of guests doesn’t, in the slightest, cross your mind; why your idiotic brother would see this as a delightful idea really is above you, but you suppose the valuable genes in the family runs all in your DNA.

You’re playing with the table decorations while waiting for the guests to come, and it’s so fucking boring you regret telling Seulgi no, babe, what the fuck - you even shook your head and decided to sound extra mad at the idea - I won’t sneak in weed.

Too bad for you, she had answered, a cute pout on her lips, I’ll give you an hour before you’re bored out of your mind.

The truth hangs above your head, with a sheepish grin: you just needed ten minutes to be absolutely, drastically bored.

In hindsight, sneaking in weed wouldn’t have been the worst idea: your mother is talking to the in laws, gesticulating excitedly at the idea of kids right after marriage. What the fuck, you text Seulgi, at home trying to get out of bed, my brother has been married for an hour and there’s already baby talk going on at the table.

 Seulgi

[12.49]

With the baby talk comes the dick talk

 You

[12.49]

Oh no the dick talk

 Seulgi

[12.50]

man how can you survive your relatives talking about nonexistent boyfriends without my weed, damn???

 You

[12.50]

option a: I’ll tell them I’m dating you

 Seulgi

[12.50]

we kissed ONE time

 You

[12.50]

option b: I’ll tell them I’m in a relationship with Jeon jungkook

 Seulgi

[12.50]

bitch we both know you’re not in a relationship with the hottest guy on campus. he has dimples and long hair and piercings. my sources can even confirm he has a big dick. what do U Have

 You

[12.51]

i was talking about my vibrator but go off lmao

anyway I’ve had that D ;)

 Seulgi

[12.51]

you’re officially cancelled

when did this happen? I can’t believe you’re telling me over text!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 You

[12.51]

last semester!!!!! why do you think I’ve named my vib after him!!!!!!

 Seulgi

[12.52]

because you’re lusting after him like the rest of us mortals!!!!!!!!!!

 You

[12.52]

I’ve upgraded since then. I’ve leveled up. I’ve seen things People Can’t Even Imagine

 Seulgi

[12.52]

just say he got u off and go

 You

[12.52]

;p

anyway option c: I scare them away by saying controversial things. Id est: I don’t believe in love. I am choosing my partner solely judging their abilities to finger me under a table when people are around. I am secretly lusting after my brother’s wife. I am trying to get impregnated like in The Sims 2 aka I am waiting for that alien dick.

 Seulgi

[12.52]

hate to break it to you babe but that’s literally who you are

 You

[12.52]

i

I literally compliment joohyun’s boobs once and this is the treatment I get

 Seulgi

[12.52]

are we not gonna talk about your alien dick kink

 You

[12.52]

no kink shaming in this house lady

option d: I listen to their complaints and run

 Seulgi

[12.53]

option dick

man sorry I meant option d

 You

[12.53]

you didn’t

 Seulgi

[12.54]

ur right I didn’t

 Option e, also known as I’ll entertain the other guests so I don’t have to talk to you, presents itself in the form of one very hot, very ripped young man sporting the most expensive shirt in the room. You’re only human when you admit to yourself, mental sigh, that he ticked all the let’s get y/n horny requirements in less than fifteen seconds.

You can’t believe Joohyun has kept him hidden for so long from you. Such betrayal ends when your brother, Kim fucking Seokjin, hugs him tight and brushes with utter affection the nape of his neck, gracing him with a warm smile and a heartfelt laugh.

You can’t believe Seokjin has kept him hidden for so long from you.

Well. Scratch that. You can.

Suddenly, the ticked requirements disappear and a giant neon sentence with a very cheap background music impose themselves in your head. WHAT A TURN OFF! they read, the neon red words mocking you; you steal a glance at your brother’s acquaintance one more time - one last time - before slipping your phone in your hands and dedicating yourself one more time at your Instagram feed, scrolling through the most recent pics.

(You stumble upon an extremely rare Jungkook selfie, and you hate to admit you spend the following thirty seconds admiring him before tapping twice on the quality content you’ve signed up for when you joined the social)

You suppose that, even though your brother’s friends with fuckboy tendencies are signed off your let’s get to know each other better ;) list, it doesn’t mean the same goes for them.

So, when the dark-haired young man with a jawline sharper than Seulgi’s retorts after her third beer sits next to you, you reckon you shouldn’t be that surprised.

He acts all casual, you notice while discreetly looking at him; he’s busy taking off his jacket and flexing his muscles, all of this while pretending not to notice you, and you find it immensely cute.

Ah, fuckboys.

“Fuck,” he rasps, lips twisted in a crooked smile, “I didn’t think it would be this hot today.”

“Yeah, sorry, the heat is on me.”

He chuckles in disbelief at your words, eyes turning into crescents.

“Right, there’s always the girl stealing the bride’s spotlight at weddings.”

“Oh! That’s me,” you nod enthusiastically, “That’s one hundred percent me.”

“Groom or bride?” He asks, pointing at the couple with his chin.

“What do you think?”

He looks at you funny, pressing his back on the seat, pondering in silence. Cute.

“Bride. One of Bae’s sorority sisters, maybe? You seem too young to be her age, though.”

“Damn,” you exhale, crossing your arms under your chest, “I can’t believe you got it all wrong. The expectations were low, but I’m still disappointed.”

He ducks his head, still smiling. “Then it’s the groom. How do you know Seokjin?”

Your eyes twinkle with excitement at your next words, but honestly, who can blame you? You’re having fun with this lost, cute chick.

“What’s your take, officer?”

He erupts into a laugh, and you drink in his handsome features; fuck you, Seokjin, for being friends with fuckboys only.

“Alright,” he punches the bridge of his nose, scanning the room, which is slowly filling with other guests. “I’m his friend, and I know all of his friends, which can only mean one thing: option a, you’re one of his ex-girlfriends; option b, you’re one of his secret hook-ups; option c, you’re an old friend from high school.”

“Oooh,” you beam, unrealistically intrigued, “You really suck at guessing, don’t you?”

He laughs, passing a hand through his dark locks, messing his perfectly styled hair. “Ok, fair. Which one was the closest, then?”

“Option d, of course.” You nod, relaxing your features into a sheepish grin, “I’m his much more beautiful and smarter sister.”

You exam his face, now twisting into some sort of what the fuck, such betrayal look, and you take in, for the last time – really the last, this time – his attractive, sculptured face, his full lips, the smoothness of his skin. It’s awful and unfair knowing you two won’t cross paths ever again in your lives, but at least you had some fun messing with him before things could worsen.

“I’ll be sitting in the middle of the table, with my family, if you want to avoid me.”

You wink at him for good measure, and you swear to god he blushes.

 Half a wine bottle and two flutes of prosecco down, you realise you underestimated your resident fuckboy.

It happens when you’re grabbing your napkin and channelling your dreamy, happy looks towards the newlyweds, dancing in the middle of the room, their eyes gravitating only towards the love of their lives.

You sigh, pouting for the smallest of fractions, when you feel someone sitting at your side.

“You know,” Fuckboy begins, and you picture him licking his lips as he pauses, “Now I get why he never told us anything more than: I’m not an only child.”

“I know,” you exhale, turning to face him, “Seokwon is the real catch of our family. We’re really protective of him.”

“He’s married. With kids.”

“I was there when the twins opened their eyes, thank you.”

“We thought you were either a small kid or a forty years old woman.”

“Wait,” you tilt your head, “How did you know about us then? And who’s we?”

“We dug into his stuff and he caved in, admitting he had a brother and a sister.” Fuckboy looks at you, eyes dark but reflecting the dim lights of the function room, “Us. The frat guys.”

“Right, the fuckboys.”

He looks taken aback by your statement, bewildered, and you take advantage of his reaction to stand up and head away from him. It’s his words that stop you from doing so, though.

“You don’t know us—”

“—except I do know your pledges and your brothers.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, “I prefer to steer away from my brother’s friends, though.”

“Right,” he says, tightening his lips in a hard line, almost hurt, “So, who am I to interfere with your judgmental thinking?” He clicks his tongue, then, a resolute exhale slipping past his lips, smothered by his own tingling despair.

The words hurt.

You don’t know what exactly pinched your senses hard, if the tone or the wallowing sadness swimming in his expression, but, as he stands up and leaves, you’re left facing the cold, hard truth.

The words hurt, you hurt, and you feel guilty.

You say nothing, glancing in the direction of the first alcoholic beverage around, and you fill yourself a glass.

Had it been someone else – had it been another sentence, another less sickening scenario, you would’ve felt proud, righteous. You’re, instead, on the other side of the feelings spectrum, all filled with crippling guilt and a nauseous, pervasive feeling you can’t quite name and pin down.

The guests are dancing around you, moving hand in hand to the rhythm of the pop love song now playing; the ballroom is packed when you let your impulsive side make a choice, eyes following the guy’s composed figure. You can drastically feel the sweat, and the heat the people are radiating, when you stand up and move towards him, the only smiling boy passing his glass from a hand to the other.

You’re close enough to tap his wrist and brush your fingers, which you do; it elicits a gasp from him, all soft, not scathing around the edges yet able to bite you, anyway. It’s the guilt, you remind yourself, looking for a sign of some sort of inclination to accept your apologies between the crease of his brows and tight jaw, and everywhere in between.

It’s sickening—this boy didn’t exist four fucking hours ago. It didn’t even cross your wildest dreams, someone like him. His shape – his silhouette – has left a print in your mind, and no matter how hard you try focusing on something else, someone else, your mind keeps going back to the shape itself.

But you’re a coward, so, while he lets you intertwine your fingers, you admit, voice loud: “I wanna dance.”

He handles you properly, kindly, before pushing you in the crowd and brushing your hips with his hands, all rings and jewellery adorning them.

He blinks twice, biting the insides of his mouth, but he manages,

“Who says I wanna dance?”

Which is a bit stupid, or hypocritic if you might, because he’s swaying you to the rhythm of a ballad the pop love song turned into. You break into the smallest of smiles.

“I want to apologize.”

He scoffs. “I don’t know you,” he says, funnily enough, “But that seems almost unlikely, coming from you.”

“Yeah, you got me there, officer. I was, uhm,” you stare blatantly at his neck, and you suppress the desire to stroke your fingers’ pads on his soft skin, “I was out of line. I’m sorry. You were right, I don’t know you. I do know your frat brothers, my own brother, but that doesn’t mean I know you.”

He hums, moving for a small fraction of instants his thumbs on your hips and it’s enough for your breath to catch into your own throat. He nods, which could mean anything, from I accept your apology to go fuck yourself, this is bullshit. You prefer the former option, if you’re being honest, which is the answer you settle for in your head, hazed and absolutely hazed and madly hazed because of his small physical contact.

To put this into the simplest terms, Seulgi’s words, you don’t like this.

“I like dancing,” his eyes tower you and gaze at the other people dancing; you wonder if he’s thinking about them, who they are to you, what role they played in Seokjin’s life, if they’ll show up to your wedding, too. These thoughts popped into your mind unannounced, before, at the table, before the not-really-fuckboy sat next to you and made you feel guilty. Such absurdity; yet here you are, in his arms. Oh god, what would Seulgi think of you if she saw you?

“Good to know, I’m awful at shoulder-hips coordination.”

“Shoulder-hips coordination?” he inquiries, lips parted.

“Uh, body rolls?”

“Oh,” he chuckles, “I see, you mean classy grinding.”

“I don’t do classy grinding, sorry,” you retort, head tilted to a side.

His smile his amused. “Too bad, shoulder-hips coordination is a nice trait to exhibit sometimes.”

“I prefer hips coordination. Well, hips rotation.”

“Hips rotation?”

“Riding? Is the term somehow unfamiliar to you?”

He flushes, biting back a grin and fixing his gaze somewhere in the crowd. How cute.

“Not at all, it’s nice to meet a hips rotation enthusiast here, though.”

“Statistics say at least a member in each family is a riding enthusiast, did you know?”

“Shit, talk dirty to me,” he licks his lips, pointing at Jin with his chin, “Didn’t peg him for a rider, though. Not at all.”

“I’m starting to think you’re not a STEM major, are you? You’re lacking basic intuition, my friend.”

“Is this your attempt of discovering my major?” – he eyes you, a flick of amusement burning in his orbs – “You’re not very smooth, you know?”

“I have my moments.”

He snorts, placing both hands on the small of your back. You’re at height level with the base of his neck, and it’s fun how your mind betrays you in such moments, providing mental images of your nose brushing against his skin, and you nuzzling in the crook of his neck. Such taunting, invasive pictures. Fuck off, you reprimand your own mind, fuck off.

“I’m Jimin.”

“Jimin,” you taste the name on your tongue, hitting the back of your front teeth. “Jin never talked about you. I’m Y/N.”

“Jin never talked about you either.”

“Of course he never did, I’m prettier than he is.”

His little dimples make an appearance. “You know, you could really steal the bride’s spotlight.”

“That was my ultimate goal all along, even though I prefer the dark side.”

“I,” he licks his lips, and you don’t know why you’re following the gesture, “I meant to say you’re beautiful.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, eyebrows raising, “Are you a charmer?”

“I mean,” he begins, sheepish smile on display, “I never kiss and tell.”

“Touching.” He smirks. “How sweet of you.”

“You know what else is sweet?”

“Please,” you beg, meeting his eyes, “Don’t say my pussy.”

“Please,” he repeats, same mocking tone, “The possibilities are endless. Your mouth,” he scoots closer, words whispered on the shell of your ear, “Your mouth around my dick,” he almost nibbles your ear, “Your mouth screaming my name.”

“My pussy,” you add, trying not to lose your mind.

“I would never call sweet something I’ve not tasted.”

He raises a brow.

“Are you offering? You’re not very smooth, you know?”

He ignores the last question, tightening his grip. “In the middle of your brother’s wedding? Seokjin’s wedding? I’m not a dick, even though you sitting on my face would be a sight to see.”

“Right?” your voice doesn’t falter for a second, “That’s what I always say”

“Nice to see how we’ve got much in common. But I was thinking of something else, actually—” His face is once again inches away from yours, ear to mouth, hot breath fanning over you bare neck. “I wanna finger you.”

Oh.

“Under the table. Right behind you. Wanna make you whimper.”

It’s almost like being tongue-tied, fumbling for words, body flushing, but you gather somewhere the strength to form an actual sentence, which makes him smirk devilishly.

“I can be very quiet.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Bet you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut.”

“When I win,” you say, lying your words on an unrealistically high vote of confidence, even for yourself, “What do I get?”

He licks his lips, slow, savouring the moment. “You get to ride my face.”

“Not your dick?”

“I’m not a fuckboy, baby.”

A comeback of some kind is already on your tongue, but – there’s a kiss somewhere in the following seconds, all wet and tingling and perhaps filled with too many lip bites, but he can’t really blame you when you’ve been brushing your thighs together for the past minute, heat pooling down your belly. It’s enough for you to silently pledge for more, and for him to tease, because he takes a step back, smirk in place and lips reddened, and guides you towards his seat at the end of the table with a hand on the small of your back.

Downhill begins as soon as you sit down, legs barely parted, a minimum space not fitting for his plans, apparently, because the crease between Jimin’s eyebrows grows when he nudges them apart with his hand, the cold metal of his rings cooling down your flushed state. You want to gasp at the sudden intrusion, but the sound is swallowed entirely by his hot mouth on yours, distracting once again, incredibly soft and alluring. This kiss is slow, this time, like he’s taking his time tasting you and learning about the hums he draws out of you, the shyness of your previously biting tongue, and how fast you get lost in the kiss itself. You press a chaste kiss on his mouth, before creaking a space between you.

“I’m starting to think you’re all bark and no bite”

He doesn’t answer, but stares into your eyes with his hooded gaze, and he manages to sneak a hand furtively under your dress not breaking the contact. His skin is warm, but you’re warmer, and his destination is even hotter. He cocks his head, fingers brushing against the soaked, sticking material you used to call panties up until fifteen minutes ago, and he must notice—his eyes grow wider, his jaw tightens and his hand gains courage.

Fuck. This should be embarrassing, getting worked up over dirty innuendos and a kiss or two, but you’re instead feeling flushed and more. More sensitive. More open to the idea of him ruining you, even though that’s not what he’s offering. Or— is he?

The question lies unanswered when his digits rub with a sparkled intensity over both your clothed sex and your inner thighs. It’s a continuous, mellifluous melody, his fingers dancing between the two until he settles on your panties only, and that’s when you almost let out a soft moan; you don’t, he raises his brow, challenging, but you don’t, and instead glance around to notice if someone has his eyes on the both of you, sitting in the furthest region of the fucking smart, endless table.

He raises the stake, flushed: Jimin pushes your panties on one side, petting with his index your exposed self, and you suck in a breath. He continues to do so, face still, closing the distance between you two.

You don’t question the sudden kiss, instead you angle your face and close your eyes and let him press his lips on you. This feels like being drunk, or high, stretching underneath a sky dripping with stars. You cup his face with your hands, his lips so terribly soft and inviting, the smallest of smiles meeting your own chapped and curved upwards lips.

It’s when you’re merely inches away from him that he thumbs at your clit, sensitive and tingling, circling with utmost peace and no speed whatsoever. You pout at little, you realize, which makes him melt either cause of your cute frown -oh, how the tables have turned- or simply because he’s the devil himself, pressing a finger against your entrance and delving it into your heat.

“Cute,” he purrs, kissing you, “Is this okay?”

The crude, hot, nerve-wracking fingering has begun, which makes you, quickly enough, putty in his hands and ablaze with ardour for this man whose rasping voice could kill you.

“Yeah,” you breathe on his mouth, eyelids drooping closed, “Yeah, all good.”

You hum to yourself as he starts pressing kisses on your jaw and your neck, a trail of treacherous flames lighting up your skin, and you have the audacity to sigh under his ministrations, a tiny, strained sound not quite a mewl.

If he hears, he doesn’t show it. You’re biting your own lip when he enters a second finger, filling your searing emptiness.

“Want three?” he asks, voice husky and as desperate as you are under his touch. He adds it when you nod, the squelch louder than before, and you moan, rocking your hips against his fingers.

“Shh, baby,” he coos, placing his other hand on your hips, slowing your movements, “Be a good girl.”

He fucks you deep, fast, fingers clashing against the silky dress you’re wearing and sweat sparkling on his forehead. He swallows another moans of yours, sucking your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth. You’re close. You’re so close, and it’s only been a couple minutes. You can’t hear anything that isn’t your wet pussy clenching around his fingers, his rhythm ruthless and burning.

“Too bad you’re not coming on my fingers, today,” he says before kissing your neck and emptying your dripping pussy, then proceeding to taste and lick his own fingers in his mouth. He lets them out with a small pop, and it’s the most terrifying sight you’ve ever had in front of your almost watering eyes. “I’m sorry I won the bet, though, your pussy is the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

That’s the high and dry story of how you first met Jimin.

/

 The second time it happens, it’s under completely different circumstances, and, substantially, against your every predictions, it really happens. It takes place, like a once in a lifetime event: there’s an orgasm involved, not due to the very charming and never disappointing Jeon jungkook the robotic version, and instead it involves a rather attractive asshole with a persistent smirk plastered on his face.

Except it’s a lot more complicated than what it sounds, and most of it is Seulgi’s fault.

Your roommate had pouted all evening, because that’s what semi adults do when they’re denied a companion for the night.

“I just wanna get wasted. It’s been one hell of a month, and you know how I get when I’m stressed.”

“I can suggest you a vibrator and a bottle of vodka. Do you settle for that, your honor?”

“The more you talk like this,” all self-absorbed and assertive and cautiously, like when talking to a kid, she begins, hands in her long, mahogany hair, “the more I just wanna push you up against the wall.”

“Sounds to me you just wanna get laid.”

“Maybe I do,” she huffs, hands on her hips, the light of your abat-jour highlighting her golden skin. “Maybe I don’t. What I know is that I wanna get wasted. Come with me, pretty please?”

“Look,” you raise your eyes from the book you’ve been holding, stretching a leg onto the unmade bed of yours, “I just wanna get this fucking paper done. I need,” you grip the phone on the bed table, checking for the white, large numbers on your lock screen, “an hour. An hour and half to edit it and I’m all yours.”

“This paper is due on Thursday, though.”

“Yeah, but I have a reputation to uphold in the family. Have to be the most beautiful and successful.”

“You’re full of shit,” are her last words, muttered with a smile as she grabs her jacket.

“Hey,” you call, stretching your neck towards her, “I don’t care if it’s two am and you’re already wasted. Call me and I’ll come to you with a whole bottle of vodka to make it up to you. Hell, I’ll even kiss you goodnight.”

“I don’t wanna make out with you, you freak.”

“You didn’t say that last time, baby!”

 Seulgi

[2.13]

wassup bitch

make out with meeeeeeeeeeeeee

[location shared]

com n get me littl nuggrt

 Not Sober Seulgi is probably the worst Seulgi you have ever dealt with. You let out a sigh, eyeing the frat dorm all lit up and vibrating to the trashy trap music the insiders are jamming to.

Of course, when it comes to Not Sober Seulgi, there’s boys involved. Frat boys involved. At first, you don’t pay attention to the details, the signs, surrounding you like blinding traffic lights signalling stop stop stop, all red and striking. The thought doesn’t cross your mind, the dots connecting in some hidden part of your brain not making your insides short circuit—instead you’re knocking on the door, then banging on the very wooden entrance until a face shows up; the dorm is dimly lit, and the face is partially lightened by a soft, hued red and, that, too, Future You pinpoints, should have been a sign.

It’s useless, anyway, because you hear the insider talk and you’re burning instantly, like after touching a steaming, hot cup of coffee, except that bitter coffee is still good coffee. Smug Jimin plus bitter you isn’t really sweet, nor a match made in heaven. It’s chaotic, a caustic explosion, and you both know it, judging from the sharp smile he offers you, after blinking lazily at your figure.

“This is a mixer party only,” his soothing voice welcomes you, “Do you have an invite?”

You press your tongue on your teeth, mouth carefully closed.

“Yeah, from Hell, I’ve come to take a fallen angel.”

“Sorry to break it to you, oh-kind-lady, but we didn’t give any invite to poor, damned souls.”

“Too bad I don’t give a fuck about your policies, then,” you move towards the small space between the door and Jimin’s body, but he interferes, placing himself right between the two. “Look, I don’t give a single fuck about this party.”

“Yeah, it sure looks like it.”

You roll your eyes. “My friend is here. She’s most certainly not sober and I’ve come to pick her up. That’s it. Do you think I want to be here, among these drunk, perverted jocks?”

He turns around, stretching his neck, his eyes darting through the crowd, inhibited by alcohol, smelling like cheap beer and weed. The moment his eyes bore into yours, though, it’s terrifying; it’s a rustled reminder of Seokjin’s wedding Jimin, and you don’t like it. You loathe it. You dread it.

“Maybe only some of us.”

He tips his head, lips curving into a timid, small smile, and you tear your gaze from his lips in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, keep dreaming of it. I just want my friend back.” You point your chin towards the amalgam of drunk party animals, “I’ll leave you to your immensely interesting activities, then.”

“What if,” he begins, “You don’t. Or—even better scenario, you leave with me.”

“Best case scenario, I leave with my friend. You stay here.”

“What’s the worst-case scenario, then?”

You cock a brow at him, crossing your arms on your chest. “I leave with my friend, you stay here. Sometime before me leaving, you’re punched. Or kicked. I don’t know. There’s a high chance I’ll throw a drink on you.”

“That implies you’ll be here long enough to grab a drink, doesn’t it? And you don’t have to ruin my shirt to get me naked, babe. Just ask nicely.”

You huff, and you’re mildly tempted to shove him against a wall. Or ruin him. Not in the funny way. More like the high and dry way, the one he knows so well. “I changed my mind, I’ll kick you.”

“Ask nicely?” His teasing tone makes your cheeks flush, and you hope the shitplace with subdued lightening can cover it. His expression shifts into an arrogant one, full smirk and little dimples out, so your cute guess is that he can see. He sees his effect on you, albeit completely unwanted and full of hatred from your side, and he enjoys it. Actually lulls in it, letting out a small laugh which, in turn, makes his eyes turn into crescents, all warm and cute—all things he’s not. All things you know he’s not.

“Ask nicely,” you repeat, rolling the words on your tongue, “Okay, babe. Let’s do this, babe. What do you want from me, babe?”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe the answer is you?”

“Yes, actually,” you sigh, fingers brushing his neck, face comically close to his perfect, chiselled one, “That’s exactly what I thought when you stopped fingering me.”

“Right,” Jimin has the audacity to smile, craning his neck as if to close the distance between you in order to meet you for a kiss, “I’m a man of word, thought. You should be impressed.”

“I’m pretty sure the only thing that’s impressed is your face under the orgasm denial definition. Google it, babe, I guarantee you the meaning comes with your name and a brilliant review of one star.”

“Unlike you.” He licks his lips, eyes on your pretty pink ones, smeared with venom, “You’re not coming.” He explains, to further ignite your rage.

“And whose fault is that, babe?”

Jimin nuzzles into your neck, cupping your other cheek with his rough palm, and his thumb stills on your throat, right where your breath is stuck. He adds pressure on it, lips fondling your burning skin, his usual smirk plastered on them.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“You’re not fucking me,” you spit back, mouth now millimetres away from his, gently inviting you to kiss it, and cherish it, and biting it until you’re satisfied with the hot result.

“I’ll eat you out? Until you come.” He hums. “You’ll come.”

His voice is a mere strangled sound, wanting and dripping with need, and you snap out of it with a small smile.

“Nice offer,” your smile is wicked as you scrape his nape with a feathery touch, the slow movement rousing a flutter in your lower belly. “But get in line, babe.”

His shell-shocked face is the last thing you see before you fulfil the let’s rescue Seulgi! party.

 (“Why do you smell like softener?” Seulgi sniffs you, arms looped loosely around your neck, eyes completely shut down. It’s a nice sight, all things considered. You’re no angel, no saint, no perfect person, but you’re a nice friend, and that’s probably the most Seokjin trait you recognize in yourself. It’s your shared apartment, and it’s past 3 am and you’re the one good friend who keeps her promises. “It’s strawberry vodka, you heathen.”)

 The line turns out to be a real line, queue line, let’s get this coffee line, which, well. How can one word it, how can one phrase it fully catching the irony of it all, the distinctive je ne sais quoi of life without—

“Nice to see you here.”

It’s the perfect set for a rom-com, you notice, taking in the warm scenery around you. What else can one dream of, right? The campus coffee shop, the campus hot not-really-but-also-kinda fuckboy Jimin, partial jock to give him credit, full time attractive idiot with a tendency for orgasm denial. Really.

“What are the chances?” You exhale, voice devoid of emotions. For the sake of your parents’ integrity, you suppose, because they raised no impolite woman, of course, you turn around to face the angel-like human being, black hair partially covering his forehead, little dimples on full display. That’s—that is lack of integrity, or indecency or au-fucking-dacity. It might as well be a mix of the above-mentioned possibilities, all fitting and nurturing you because he’s gorgeous. He’s handsome. Jimin’s the most attractive human being you’ve ever seen in your life, and it’s not fair.

(Beside the fact that you’ve lived with Kim Seokjin, for fuck’s sake)

He pokes his own cheek, and you bask into the otherworldly scenario that takes place right in front of your caffeine deprived eyes. It’s a sight for sore, soft eyes, and it’s the end of the world as you know it, because it’s morning, too early to properly function like a normal human being, but there he is. There he is, Jimin, channelling his inner boyfriend material aura, oozing off boyfriend smell, nice, fresh, aftershave smell, rocking a stupid sweater and the messiest black mop of hair.

It’s honestly a tragedy, and you won’t stand for it. You will make a move—

“You’re squinting your eyes, like, real tight. Are you alright?”

Just ogling you, your drowsy mind offers, the fucking cheater.

“Yeah,” you reply, swallowing a lump in your dry throat, “Just need coffee. A latte. Anything.”

You move forward in the queue, and as you blink you realize it’s your turn, until it’s not anymore. Jimin carefully and gently moves you out of the way, brushing with the softest touch your side.

“A latte and an iced americano, please.”

The sweetened order for two turns into a hushed thank you, a tipped smile, a flutter of you heart. It’s drinks still half full, his curious gaze darting on your lips, your defences down. It’s unfair, because in a hot second all this pent-up tension shifts into a light, chaste kiss, your back pressed against the coffee shop’s restroom; your chest heaves under his tantalizing make-out session with your neck, followed by his frantic lips pressing on yours, his tongue licking lazily into your mouth, a gasp easing its way out of your warm and eager mouth. It’s a hot-blooded supercut, each frame announced by a starving moan, a content sigh, and, before you realise it, you’re on your bed, Jimin hovering on top of you.

It’s Saturday morning, you hum to yourself, fingers sliding into his hair, all’s in check. There’s a warm body slumped on yours, his tongue swerving on your lower lip and his hips shyly bucking between your open legs. Your panties are drenched, you can feel his hard on through the jeans and, really, all’s in check.

He nudges your nose with his. “Lemme eat you out.”

The answer lies sitting on the tip of your tongue, right next to an obnoxious remark that you hope will rile him up enough for him to rip your underwear, which you definitely won’t complain about. However, the words don’t come out, they slur in your craving mouth the second he gets up and shoves you toward the end of your unmade bed, spreading your naked legs open with his calloused palms.

“Nice skirt,” he comments, voice a rasp, eyeing the drenched, lilac underwear, skirt at this point gone up to cover your stomach. “I just want…”

He shuffles closer, enough for you to feel his hot breath on your core, and that’s when Jimin pulls the panties on a side, teasing you with little licks to your entrance. You’re responsive, too eager for anything to quench your thirst that you sigh happily at the barest of actions, gripping strands of his hair. Jimin chuckles, engulfing the throbbing clit in his mouth in one go and drawing desperate moans out of your cute, devilish mouth.

“Fuckboy move,” you emit, voice cracking at the pressure of his warm mouth, “Oh, oh. Fuck…”

He replies flattening his tongue on your core, then licking and lapping against your dripping folds. Jimin positively glows at the cries you let out, face slobbering with your arousal while driving you insane, fucking with his tongue like his life depended on it. It’s almost a spiritual experience, a crescendo of wails and sobs, his face drown in your pussy and his tongue paying reverence to your approaching orgasm. He can feel it in the way you writhe, in his hand splaying over your stomach, keeping you still while he eats you religiously, forehead beaded with sweat.

You come with a trembling hand in his hair, the other flicking your bare nipple, back slightly arched and a lewd mewl; Jimin takes in the way your body trembles, your breath all staggered because of him, and the sight alone is enough for him to cum in his pants with a grunt, completely untouched.

The second time it happens is, coincidentally, the first time Jimin knows there’s no turning back from this.

/

Complicated is a big word when it comes to relationship, you reckon, emitting something akin to a gasp, truly soap operas worthy material, but, for the first time in your life, you decide to name it this way.

Being with Jimin is… complicated, for starters. Especially because you’re not with Jimin, in the strict, relationship-wise meaning. He knows your favourite colour (“Why the fuck you only own purple underwear?” “It’s lilac, dick, watch your mouth.” “Watch your own mouth, babe. You’re the one on your knees.”), your favourite food (“But you like having your mouth stuffed with my cock, honey.” You sigh, blushing. “First of all, I’m talking about real food. That amazing steak kind of food—“

“I’ll show you real meat, babe.”

“Gross. Gross. How can I cancel the last five seconds of my life?”

“Come here, Jared, nineteen,” he half smiles, tilting his head, “I’ll get us fries.”), your favourite movie (“We can’t get each other off every time your ugly paper cap fits—oh,” you suck in a breath, Jimin flicking his tongue on your turgid nipple, “oh, god, don’t stop.”), your best friend’s name (“I condone you dicking her so good she sometimes cries, you know, I just don’t when I’m in the room next to hers and all I can hear is my best friend trying to formulate a single coherent word but failing because you’re pounding her mercilessly into the mattress.” Jimin chuckles, grabbing his jacket before holding the doorknob. “She begged, Seulgi.”)—so what? It’s not like you sat down and decided not to ask each other dumb questions, so that you could find out in the funny, kinky way. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even decide on anything, didn’t even talk about talking, because the relationship related shit didn’t even cross your mind.

It’s even quite fucking hard for it to cross it, because half the time you’re together you’re either both naked – except for the time he pleaded for the tartan mini to stay – or stuffing your mouth with food—because, if there’s something you’ve learned after one too many hook-ups with him is that this kind of sex requires strength. Like, actual, physical strength, if we’re not talking about the this test is draining me please fuck me until I can’t walk sex. Which, yeah, 10/10 would recommend. That was the day Seulgi decided to invest in ear plugs while muttering capitalism, here I come.

You also came.

Funnily enough, guess who also came. Not in the funny, kinky way. Think about the grossest thing, imagine the beyond the bounds of possibility, sprinkle it with Jimin earnestly shoving his dick down your throat, stir it with a poor Taehyung brushing his teeth next to the both of you, a step away from the shower, and serve it on the most expensive plate in the kitchen, a recipe not approved by Kim Seokjin.

Yeah, you mentally roll your eyes, licking your lips clean, at eye-level with your sorta enemy with benefits’ pretty dick: the married brother of yours, former fratboy, taller than your current will to live.

In hindsight, maybe it is Seokjin’s fault. Once you’re married, you’re supposed to be committed to the cause, and sometimes, an angry little crumb in you finds the audacity to speak, the cause is made up of your four walls: ergo home, ergo your married life, miles away from the absurdity that once filled his university days. You’re being hypocritical, you realize, skin wet, body trembling. In the simplest, most hedonistic terms, you’re done with the chaos in this fraternity and just wished that hooking up was easier. It’s more than a stolen orgasm, a random spur of pleasure and free de-stresser; it’s also something not quite like art but just as peculiar. Sex with Jimin is more than nice, more than a fast rummage of clothes on the floor and panties teared, or condoms stuffed in every single pocket of his jacket.

It should also be noticed that it’s been one hell of a stressful week, okay, which means that it’s one of those times you seek for naked intimacy, in its least literal meaning. You’re looking for something sure, something silent, something earnest. Jimin gives you that in the simplest of forms, in the easiest of ways. It’s not fair for your brother to come unannounced and burst into the house with his adorable laugh and love for his own brothers. Way to ruin the moment, bro.

Jimin blinks attentively when Taehyung laughs, clapping his hands all happy and following the elder’s voice outside the bathroom.

“I’m getting you my clothes.”

“Wait, what?”

His lips part just enough for his tongue to wet them, and your eyes follow in silence the gesture.

“I mean,” he starts, grabbing a towel, “You either come out with me from this bathroom or you don’t.”

He’s concise, yet harsh, words uttered with those soft lips yet are just as hot as a slap in your face. He’s telling the truth, but you soon find out you don’t really like it.

There’s something abrupt and severe in those chosen words, so well picked out because they’re not meant to hurt, but at the same time they’re so worrying. So terrible, practically as hard as a punch in your guts.

You either come out of the bathroom with him — you had been blowing minutes before, hadn’t you? Quite the intimacy, huh? — or you don’t. You stay behind. Different rooms, a whole door to separate you while he’s out with the people he cares about.

Seems legit, but. It’s unfair. You know Jimin isn’t choosing for you, but it’s obvious he’s inclined towards an option between the two, and you’re terrified to discover whether it’s his own desire pushing or what he thinks you want.

You, instead, push the thought aside when you nod, taking the towel from his hands and covering your body from this terrific half hook-up.

Because that’s what it is—that’s what you are.

It dawns upon you like a cold breeze hitting your face in full December, suddenly, and that’s when you realize winter is near. In your mind, this hooking up scenario seemed nicer. Sounded softer, a cute bubble moving slowly in the air.

But now—well, now the bubble has burst, and it feels wrong, and this unexpected wrong doesn’t feel right in your chest, and that’s the story of how you leave the house escaping from his window, in his clothes, with vision blurred by hot, stupid, idiotic tears.

/

Seulgi is the first one to notice, and, obviously, the first one to speak.

“Something’s been bothering you,” she says, head tilted in a way that’s supposed to be emphatic and worried but comes off as stiff and terrified. “Care to share?”

It’s just a wholesome amount of terrifying stuff, isn’t it? First the shower incident, now Seulgi’s ways not working around you anymore. What’s next? Avoiding Jimin for a whole week? Blocking his number? Losing the smart and beautiful title to your obnoxious brother?

You wouldn’t be surprised, really. Shit like this always happens at the same fucking time.

“It’s nothing. A stressful couple days, maybe? Or maybe I’m getting sick. There’s a guy always coughing during Physics. Maybe it’s his fault, who knows.”

Seulgi unlocks her phone, an unreadable gaze studying you. She gives up a second later, though, her weak maybe reaching your ears when you’ve already looked down on your book.

One simply cannot be annoyed because of a half hook up. Christ. You deserve better than that. You have some dignity left, tainted by everything that’s not Jimin and his harsh, stupid words.

So, your mind offers, while you squint your eyes, I suppose there’s nothing else you could do about it.

Nothing else besides acknowledging it and moving on.

Sounds like a plan. A fireproof plan, an escape plan, something detailed and precise. Planned to work out smoothly; planned to be executed without pain or mistakes.

/

It’s seven sharp when he knocks, takeout in his left hand, eyes bulging because it’s fucking freezing outside.

“It’s fucking freezing, what the fuck.” He says out loud, indeed. What he receives as an answer is the sound of your tongue clicking, the biggest amount of interest you’ve shown towards him the whole week. He would finally exhale, weren’t it for the fact that this is still pretty traumatic, because if there’s something he’s learned while orbiting around you, is that you’re constantly awake and aware of your surroundings. Your body language says that you pay attention to him, or Seulgi, or whoever you’re talking to. You follow the guy with your eyes, and you listen and nod in all the right places during a conversation, and you search for his dark gaze when he’s fucking you in the dimly lit bedroom, the bed creaking under your sweaty sex making. He’s not admitting it, he never will, and he’ll pretty much deny this to everyone who will ask but: there’s something hot about it. Something burning with the way your body reacts to him, when your eyes follow his actions, while your voice falters when he fucks you right, and it somehow pushes him to the edge every time. It’s the equivalent of Jungkook getting a boner in the gym while catching girls and boys drooling at him, except he’s talking about you and your crazy moans, your magic aura.

And yes, okay, fucking blame him, the realization alone made him jerk off in his room like a teen, twice, yesterday. That’s a fact. That’s barely a fact, alright? This is a truth; a statement soon forgot by the knowers. Obviously.

You look spent, he thinks, if he had to choose a word, dared by some arrogant deity to define the current mess you were. He glances at your barely done ponytail, at the tiredness written all over your face. He takes in your baggy sweater, your quiet beauty, knowing this is gonna be one of those nights you take a step back.

He doesn’t say anything though, instead he brushes the hair on your forehead, not even making contact with your skin.

You grab the bag from his hands, shivering instantly and hoping he doesn’t read the signs. They’re—they’re there, you know, you’re collecting them slowly, one after another, grabbing one and looking cautiously for the following one, hoping it’s not there. Hoping it doesn’t exist.

You exhale a sigh, disguising it as cough, a noise, something distracting Jimin from his silent staring, which is, funnily enough, loud and cacophonic.

“Hungry,” you state, the single word weighting more because of the soft pout on your lips. Jimin hates that he knows what it means, that it’s gonna be just the two of you this time, no chill whatsoever, no bodies touching and melting against each-other. He’s not complaining, what the fuck, he’s not an idiot. He’s not even mad, he’s just—accepting, on a level. This is the point of no return, he guesses, following you on the couch and admiring the laptop’s screen reflected on your face.

He doesn’t say anything when you search for Brooklyn 99 on Netflix, because he’d say everything, otherwise. He’d mumble something along the lines of this feels real, we could do this all the time, or, worst of all: I like this. I like you.

So, in order: he tugs at your sleeves and scoots you closer to him, and you say absolutely nothing at the gesture. He’s ecstatic on the inside, partially terrified, mostly delusional. He pretends he’s something more when you lean on him, the slightest pressure of your head on his shoulder. He cares zero fucks about the show when he’s breathing your scent in and feels how warm you are and shuts his eyelids down when he pictures you adoring him. Liking him. Liking him a whole lot more—

He’s fucked, he realises, hours later, when you doze off and he has to carry you to bed, something you claim of loathing, which—what on earth. It’s an unfathomable absurdity, that’s what it is.

“You can stay.”

His voice falters. “What?”

You cough, eyes closed as you speak sinful words: “The night, I mean. It’s fucking freezing outside.”

His lips form a small o, and it’s hot all of a sudden. “Alright,” he manages, staring at you on your bed, hands fidgety and heartbeat accelerated for some reason, “Make space for me. Hey, fucker. I’m serious. Let me in.”

You do.

(to be continued. ily)