#when that happens i just fuck off until it spawns somewhere else so i can get by i hate it

[joltning]

@fishfingersalad it’s almost 2am but i can’t sleep and ts probably only going to be seen by like 5 people anyway so let it rip

this au started out as a self indulgent pocket sized au that I ignore as all my aus do…..then I couldn’t sleep and started imagining things im good at that. it started as an au I could do ship focus on and well I love lore I guess. despite all this the main story still focuses on my blorbos. maybe I will make a storyline for the main cast, if I can imagine things again

one day, all across (abridged) America (this is why I made that carolina/puerto rico/dc post btw), 50 children, each for 1 state, pop up at the same time, with varying ages, mostly tween years but with some variation up and down. while some are humanoid creatures, others are completely monstrous and lack sentience. however, they all share one common factor: a tag identifying what state they came from. The majority of the sentient ones assume this is their name, and that’s why they run with it.

conspiracy theorists and cryptid fans nationwide take notice of a bunch of shit happening overnight and develop “The 50” list. depending on if it’s commonly agreed upon what monster you are and if it’s commonly agreed upon what state you’re from, you’ll be ranked higher or lower on the list, with, of course, the highest ranking being the most sought after and hidden. Most of the higher tiered creatures are humanoid; it’s easier to blend in if you don’t look out of place

i forgot to mention Btw it’s like. myths and legends and shit too. i mentioned york being the pied Piper I also think the implication that the pied Piper is a monster is funny. also only one monster per person and

ofc my blorbos…….Everyone run now!!!! Ohio has just moved to a new city yay go girl But her coworkers are fucked up!!! There’s this bitch Sherry that she may or may not have a crush on and like her two little friends who absolutely know that. but Watch out there’s a freaky green man It’s Georgia her old friend Georgia. they were their first freelancer friends but geo Loves making deals for souls slash servitude slash their power slash take over the world slash he doesn’t know what souls are and neither do I. but they gotta be normal and not fight in the office.!!! And fight outside of a Walmart at 2 instead. he’s kinda bad at it though which is why only Ohio cares.

anywya Sherry keeps running into Ohio and Georgia fighting and you know Ohio’s kind of like. well if you see her when she’s not masking you’ll probably go insane huh. so Ohio has to keep wiping her memories and Sherry’s getting CRAZY deja vu.

this is so stressful Good thing Ohio’s got her trusty friends Iowa and Idaho!!! They’re causing chaos somewhere else but she’s always texting them and video chatting. hopefully they can meet up again soon!!

Utah is a paranormal investigator and currently georgia’s only the only person who’s currently made a deal with him. he’s made past deals but Ohio scared them off by ‘Do Not Be Afraid’ing them. it’s either that or they have to get killed lest the green fuck get too powerful and Ohio would rather not do that thanks. utah doesn’t even get anything in return he just wants to know wtf is going on tbh. Georgia stays at his apartment because he’s a squatter I guess

well That’s too bad I guess I can’t share any more because they’re just plotpoints. hey do you wanna know what the other freelancers are

Ohio: Angel (duh. So low because when she spawned she was literally in the middle of a bunch of people and blinded them with her corporeal form)

Georgia: Demon (the devil but literally this time. manages to be a little higher due to being able to teleport short distances. Stayed a little too close to home base, though.)

Iowa: Harpy (kept flying in the air like a dumbass everyone fucking saw him. denialists claim it to be a big bird. and they’re right.)

Idaho: Werewolf (he didn’t know until a full moon came out. oops.)

Carolina: Siren (keeps the bad singing voice.)

York: pied piper….

Wash: Shapeshifter

Florida: Alien (when he came on the fated day he rode in on a meteor instead of plopping in, breaking off the state from the rest of the US. its highly debated on whether or not the meteor itself was the creature.)

Maine: Bigfoot (but he shaves his whole body every day so he just looks like a big guy)

Connie: Kitsune

Wyoming: Fairy (despite being obvious, no one fuckinh lives in wyoming so he just flew far away immediately. fucks up the rankings of others by being spotted far away from his state.)

North: The Sandman (Both spawned across from eachother at the 2 state’s borders. They immediately declared eachother twins.)

South: Mare/Dream Eater (Their high ranking is very dependent on the confusion on which twin is which, since they work together to sleep and then feast.)

Tex: Ghost

you may see here I did not include Utah Did I forget No No No (kinda) I have an idea for what he is but i don’t intent to reveal it ever really. idk how id incorporate that. jsut know I searched really hard to find a creature that wasn’t a ghost that disrupted electromagnetic fields so that every time he went ghost hunting the machines would go off causing him to assert there was a ghost there. but no alas I did not find that

ok tahts it I think. for now. maybe. if you have any ideas for this background fucks wise or rnbs wise I would like them. for meThanks goodnight im gonna pass blout Out Out

[switch]

i know at one point before replaying shivers after i got my jewel case copy i had said that the game wasn’t actually scary because the only things that can hurt you are stationary, but i was wrong, when you can’t tell if you’re one screen away or two screens away from the ixupi that is currently in your way it is very scary.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Could you maybe write something with dark dark Steve who has a huge size kink and crying kink and loves to humiliate?

School Days

Note: sorry it took so long. been kinda down. also hope i did OK with humiliation.

Summary: Co-worker makes you feel uncomfortable.

Warning: 18+Only, short reader, size kink, crying kink, humiliation kink, non consent, forced fingering and cock warming i think

Dark Coach Steve x Short Teacher Reader

📚

You had always had a love of teaching. Growing up your friends would always groan when it was your turn to pick what to play, because you always chose to play school.

You knew exactly what you wanted to do when you got to college. You wanted to shape young minds. It was fascinating watching them grow and learn right before your very eyes.

Shelby elementary hired you two years after you received all of your certificates. Replacing their beloved Mrs.Pepper Potts after she moved out of town with her husband.

You taught first graders. You preferred teaching the lower grades. The higher grades were a bit difficult. Competing for attention when most of the students where dealing with raging hormones proved an exhausting endeavor. Your short stature became a reoccurring issue too. During your student teacher days you realized the taller they got the more they seemed to not take you seriously.

At least working with the lower grades you were less likely to be confused as a student. You had lost track of how many times you were stopped in the hall by a colleague. With the lower grades you towered over your class and commanded respect with little effort.

📚

You felt exhausted. Your first parent teacher meeting was over. It was endearing and encouraging that so many parents had so many concerns about the development of their little ones. But their critiques on your credentials didn't fail to strike a nerve, an issue new teachers faced all the time. You smiled through it as you normally did. Letting them have their back handed remarks as you answered and waited out the clock.

When it was all over you needed a drink. You cleared up the mess they left for you, a preview of what to expect from their spawn.

When everything was in its place you tackled the blackboard. Taking out your stool you stood on tip toes erasing. You had the bright idea of outlining your curriculum on the board for all the parents to view. It was hard getting it all on the massive board, but with your step stool you got as high as you could go.

"Hey! Whoa you know that's dangerous." A voice rushed to your side as your stool tilted.

"Are you OK little one?" he asked helping you down.

God he's tall. You barely came eye to eye with his chest. You tensed in his arms and when he realized his mistake he released you.

"Oh sorry" he rubbed the back of his head slightly embarrassed. "I'm Steve Rogers." He reached out a hand for you to shake. You took it and introduced yourself. His firm grip swallowed your hand, when he squeezed you held in the hurt from the pressure.

Steve's presence was intimidating despite the smile he wore. When he released your hand, you took as step back, but he stepped forward.

He is just a close talker. Don't over analyze.

"Sorry again with your clothes I just assumed you were..." He motioned at your clothing.

Taking inspiration from Ms Frizz, your favorite animated teacher, you always wore colorful puffy skirts that depicted various things related to education or fairy tails. The look kept the attention of the youngsters, but it certainly didn't look childish.

"It's OK, but I am afraid you are a bit late for the meeting."

Spinning away you move to the other side of your desk to give yourself more space. "If you wouldn't mind filling in your information, encase of emergencies or special needs. I know you probably filled it out for the front office, but I like to have my own copy." You explained as you handed him a pen and the piece of construction paper with the other parents info.

He took it and filled it out. "I just erased the curriculum, but I can email you a copy."

"Did you also used to teach at Camdien?" Steve inquired, bending over your desk as he wrote. While you waited you packed up your belongings.

"Um yes I was a student teacher there. Did you have a child there too?"

"I coached there actually. Well was." He rose and approached you. Slipping your purse straps on your shoulder, you tried to remember if you seen his face before. You didn't recognize it. As striking as he was you doubted you would forget it.

But the athletic department lived in a world separate from the teachers. Their multiple championships brought in funding that went to their brand new athletic facility. The highly coveted building allowed them to live above the peasant class of the faculty. You had even heard a nonsensical rumor that they even had a Starbucks and onsite masseuse.

When he handed it back you reached out, but Steve pulled the paper just out of reach. Hovering it over your head like a bully playing keep away. You huff and frown after two attempts. You were not a child and would not be treated as such. Pursing your lips you made a move to leave. You would just go through the admin office to get the information.

"Aw don't pout, but I must say you do look adorable when you do." He smiled down at you as he blocked your retreat. His wholesome grin did not match the darkness in his eyes. There was a disconnect somewhere. You felt like a mouse before a lion. Were the other teachers like this? You were so eager to get started working you did little research in the school that so swiftly hired you. "Here you go."

Snatching the paper away you say, "thank you." It sounded slightly annoyed, but you did your best to choke down the edge.

Unhooking the lip of your bag you placed it with the others as his shadow clouded you. Ignoring it you side step him.

"Yeah I remember. I used to see you at Camdien." Steve recalled, blocking you once more. You stopped just short of bumping into him as you closed your bag. "Cute little thing, roaming the halls." Steve informed you, stepping closer once more, making you take a step back. The alarm bells blared in your head at that comment.

"Boy wasn't I relieved I wasn't crossing the line with all the thoughts I had." He chuckled as your back hit the chalkboard. You had to strain your neck to look him in the eye this close.

The principal was making his rounds soon. He wouldn't try anything right?

"Mr. Rogers-"

"Coach" he interrupted. He didn't touch you but that fact gave you very little relief. You felt your nails dig into your palm as you gripped the thin strap of your bag. Your arm the only barrier between you two. "Just call me Coach."

"Rogers!" Your saving grace, Principal Barnes, exclaimed from the door. Steve's body blocked you from James. "There you are. Nice to see your getting to know your colleagues."

"Yeah, just sharing stories from Camdien" Steve stepped aside to greet Principal James. His hand landed on the top of your head, messing your hair as he patted you playfully like a dog. You swallowed the discomfort as he moved to talk to James. You gathered the rest of your things as they focused their attention on each other.

"Oh yeah I forgot you both came from their."

You took that opportunity to make your exit. Walking fast mumbling a 'goodnight,' you bolted toward the door. They replied back, but you ignored it, allowing their chatter to fade the further down the hall you got.

📚

The first week of school was hectic. Lost students, late students, little accidents here and there, it ran the gambit. But nothing worried you more than P.E. period.

Steve was listed as your classes gym teacher and made the drop-off a chore. It surprised you how increasingly inappropriate he was becoming. Always stretching out your name flirtatiously in front of the children causing them to taunt you with 'OOO's, and pepper you with questions about the nonexistent relationship until you departed.

They stayed in line as you approached the double doors that led to the gymnasium. He was there, dressed in his sweat pants, gym shirt and the whistle dangled from his lips.

As you ushered them inside he caught site of you as he wrangled another group and smirked. It was unnerving especially when your students egged him on by making kissy noises loudly when they noticed him too. On one occasion he sent a note with one of your students asking you out. You ignored it.

You should've reported him you know, but what would they say 'Oh he was just being friendly' or any number of things to justify his behavior. You'd been in enough situations to know without evidence that met their standards nothing would happen.

📚

In the teachers lounge Steve made his presence known. You stared at your custom coffee mug as it sat high on the edge of the third shelf. You had half a mind to take and break his, as it taunted you from the first. You were growing more and more tired of his antics. This wasn't the first time and you knew it wouldn't be the last.

Two arms planted themselves on either side of you as something rested on your head.

It was him you knew it. Who else would it be?

"Need some help little one?" He hummed.

"God damn it Steve get off me" you barked You elbowed him, but the mountain of a man didn't budge.

"No need to be nasty."

You felt him push you into the counter, crushing you against it as he reached for your cup on the high shelf.

"Here you go" he said placing it daintily in front of you.

Calm down don't blow your lid he is doing this to fuck with you.

"Shouldn't you be watching my class?" You asked as you waited for him to move out of your way.

"Student teacher got me covered. You remember what that's like? Give them the work while we teachers kick back and relax."

He backed away allowing you to get the coffee, but stayed glued to your side. You ignored him, pulling out your phone and flopped on the couch, waiting for gym time to end.

Steve of course sat next to you crowding you into the corner. He boldly placed a hand on your thigh, you brushed it off, cursing at him to 'go away'. If you got up he would only follow so you crossed your legs and leaned into the arm of the couch. Don't let him get to you.

Steve stretched out his arm on the back of the couch. Even sitting next to you he towered over you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you in snugly. Your head resting against his tone chest. "God your so adorable."

"Steve!" you almost shriek at him as his other hand slyly crept under your skirt. "Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with you."

You try to stand suddenly, but get jerked back down. Landing in the same awkward situation as before.

"Fuck you let me go" you hissed at him. He only chuckled as you tried to stop his hand from advancing up your skirt again. You became panicked the further he got.

Clamping your thighs tightly together as he wedged between your crossed legs. Your eyes shifted to the door before you, the couch sat across from the only entrance. If anyone came in they surely would be under the wrong assumptions.

His arm refused to budge as you attempted to pry him away. Steve was nothing but muscle, struggling was getting you no where, each shift pressed him hard against your sensitive area.

📚

"You know I've been nothing, but nice to you" Steve sounded disappointed.

"Stop please" you sounded panicked and desperate. Your nails dug into his arm as you tried to fight back an ache that taunted you as he teased.

"But you always give me attitude." He stated casually.

You slapped him. The sound loud in the empty room. Your eyes blurred with tears of frustration. Your hit did nothing, only leaving his cheek red, but from the smile on his face he liked it.

"And violent too. Hope you don't act that way around your class" he tsked while poking hard at the growing wet spot. You felt your spine curve and breath become heavier, your toes curled in your shoes as he increased his friction.

"Oh look at you. You like that don't you" he teased rubbing circles after noticing the tension in your legs relax. You cocked back to slap him again, but stopped when you felt his other hand at the back of your neck. It squeezed softly, but it was a warning nonetheless. You felt defeated. Not only was Steve bigger than you, he was stronger. Tears of frustration finally fell as you lowered your hand and let him do as he pleased.

"God your even cuter when you cry." He preened. "Tell you what. Since we don't have that much time....Kiss me and I will stop." You bristled as you felt him peel your panties to the side.

He didn't wait for your reply. Steve crashed his lips on to yours without warning. You flinched expecting pain, but it was soft. It was so tender that with anyone else they would given and close their eyes, accept it, but you couldn't.

"Stop..Steve.. Please" You panted over his lips, pushing at his chest as his fingers pushed into you. He didn't stop, the kiss only embolden him to go further. You whimpered and moaned as he took from you.

"Give me your panties" he asked pulling away from you, but his fingers still curled inside. "You promised you'd stop" you remind him, wiping away tears.

He wasn't going to relent, you could tell by the determination in his eyes. You felt exposed and embarrassed. Anyone could walk in at any moment and he knew it. He would probably get a slap on the wrist while you would need to find employment else where to escape the shame.

"I promise this time" he said lowly. "No tricks."

Swallowing your pride you lifted in your seat, he moved just enough to let the fabric pass. Rolling them down your knees quickly you hand them over. His hands slipped from you as you pass it. He held them up to the light and examined the wetness he created. Wiping away tears, you stood and bolted toward the door, but stopped when Steve whistled loudly.

"I think you forgot something."

You turned to find him pointing at your discarded mug.

"If you leave it, I leave this in it", he waved your shame in the air.

"Don't forget to wash it....don't want it to leave a stain" he ordered from the couch. You walked back on edge. Snatching the mug from the other side of the table. You rushed to the sink and rinsed your cup. More tears fell as you felt the wetness between your legs. The mirror mounted above the sink allowed you to examine yourself. Your mascara bled a bit and lipstick smeared, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a dab of a napkin.

You swore to never step foot in the lounge ever again. If you needed to eat you would do it in your car or at your desk. This was supposed to be a magical time for you, but with Steve it had turned into a nightmare.

You sniffed as you blinked away the tears, forcing yourself to stop crying. Gym time was almost over and you needed to pull yourself together and collect your class.

"You know how often I wonder about you" Steve said rising from the couch, you watched him carefully from the mirror. You fumbled your mug, the water splashing back at you.

"Steve you promised" you said meekly, utterly defeated. He stared at you through the mirror, you felt his eyes watch your discomfort as you picked up the cup.

"What would the parents think if they knew their kids teacher walks around the class with no panties on" he tutted. You hung your head low and noticed your panties balled up in his hand as he rested it on the counter.

"I also wonder" He said pressing you into the sink. You felt his resolve through his sweat pants. "Do you fit?"

Fit?

Then it became clear. You felt his cock against your backside. You tried frantically to flea, but Steve caught you by the neck.

"I'm willing to bet you can't even fit half of me inside" he whispered in your ear as he bent you over the sink, crushing. "If I'm wrong I will let you go." Your eyes rounded as he hauled up your skirt. You whimpered as the cool air of the staff room tickled your exposed rear.

Steve was really going to fuck you in the staff room. These walls were paper thin and he knew it. Your head swirled in panic as you pleaded with him to stop. He only chuckled and shimmied down his sweat pants as you swatted back at him.

He angled and aligned himself as you sobbed. The tip slipped through your wet thighs, finding the target of its need.

You choked down a guttural moan as he breathed out 'good girl'. He watched your face as every inch stretched through your insides.

"Its is too much" you gasped out, trembling from the pressure, dancing on your tip toes as you adjusted around him.

"Its all inside" he praised the accomplishment. Forcing you to look at the mirror. "You fit me so good...see."

The mirror reflected your assault to your horror. "All cute holding me inside, taking everything I got" he said while stretching you.

Shooting pains radiated from your core as sharp breaths escaped you.

"Look at you" he taunted "coming apart just for me.... "

You heard the door to the room open and close quickly as you panted wildly. Steve didn't pull out, unabashed, letting whomever take in his pale ass as he continued to stuff you.

You didn't know who saw you, you only hoped his massive body hid you and your shame.

📚

[rayshippouuchiha]

HELL YEAH I LOVE THIS SUIKAWARI MY HEART THING SHOUTA'S SO T H I R S T Y ok real talk deku absolutely knows who eraserhead is right??? hes an eraserhead fan right???????

"These seem kind of ...short," Izuku can't help but point out, hands coming down to tug futilely at the swim shorts that had somehow replaced his standard blue and yellow Mighty Swim Shorts(TM) he's had for years now. "And tight."

"As god Herself intended," Hitoshi mutters from where he's laid out on the concrete of the changing room floor. "Praise be to Yaomomo."

"Praise be," Izuku automatically echoes out of longstanding habit.

A beat of silence passes between them

"You know that floor is beyond filthy, right?" Izuku can't help but ask.

Hitoshi just peels one bleary eye open and stares up at Izuku silently.

"Fair enough," Izuku agrees as he goes back to fussing with his shorts.

"You nervous?" Hitoshi asks a few seconds later.

"Yeah," Izuku admits sheepishly. "Seems kind of dumb huh? Being so nervous over a charity event like this? But ... what if I look stupid?"

"Not possible," Hitoshi immediately denies.

Izuku loves his friend so much. Getting arrested together with Hitoshi at a rally really was the best thing to happen to him in a long time.

"Very possible," Izuku counters. "Highly probably in fact. Everyone else participating is super cool with super cool moves, with or without their quirk being involved. I'm just ... me."

"Look," Hitoshi says as he eels his way across the floor until he's laying right beside where Izuku's standing. "Just go out there and do exactly what you did at practice. Trust me, it'll go perfectly. Especially since Todoroki's not here to catch the vapors or the drapes on fire."

"Still don't know why the entire group had to come to that practice," Izuku grumbles just a bit. "Or why Momo had to host it. Or why Uraraka recorded it."

"Kirby's making mint by now," Hitoshi mumbles under his breath.

"What?" Izuku asks.

"Nothing," Hitoshi waves his question off lazily as he finally rolls over and pushes himself up onto his feet.

He throws an arm over Izuku's shoulder and rests his sharp chin on the crown of Izuku's head.

"Like I said before," Hitoshi reaches his hand up to poke at Izuku's cheek, "just go out there and be your regular sunshine broccoli self and do what you did at practice night. You've got this."

And by this point all Izuku can do is believe him.

~~~

Crate of watermelons firmly in hand, Izuku bounces just a bit on his toes and focuses on taking deep breaths of fresh ocean air.

Dagobah Beach is still as beautiful now as it was all those years ago when he cleaned it for Toshi-sensei at the start of his apprenticeship.

On the other side of the small, curtained off backstage area the crowd that's gathered is going wild.

Honestly, Izuku would rather be out there watching the Miruko crush watermelons than here waiting for his own turn to go on stage.

But, eventually, is turn does actually come.

"...the showstopper himself, the one, the only, the #1 Can Do Hero Dekiru."

Present Mic's announcement ringing in his ears, Izuku takes one last deep breath, does his best to smile, and moves out into view.

The crowd is deafening and Izuku has to admit that it always makes him feel more than a bit awestruck to have so many people cheering for him. Especially over something that's more than a bit silly even if it's for a collection of good causes.

He shoots the crowd a small wave as he sets his crate down.

"Show us what you've got!" Present Mic demands from somewhere to Izuku's right. "And let's give him some encouragement listeners!"

The crowd begins to chant "De~ki~ru!" and Izuku picks up his first watermelon, determined to follow Hitoshi's advice.

The first and second melons break easily enough, just as they had at practice, but the crowd seems happy.

So Izuku moves onto his third pose, the one that the others had made him repeat a handful of times a few nights ago.

A flex of his thighs and a twist of his hips and his lap's covered in sweet pink flesh and sticky juice.

"Oh god," a voice, low and husky, cuts across the crowd, "I wish that was me right now."

Even as the crowd goes abruptly silent Izuku's attention immediately zeroes in on the source.

He immediately feels his entire soul leave his body.

Because standing there beside Present Mic, arms crossed over his chest and face blank, is Eraserhead.

The Eraserhead.

The same Underground Hero Izuku's been a huge fan of since the moment he found out he existed. The notorious hell teacher of UA whose very name sends shivers of fear down the majority of his friend group's spine.

The same Eraserhead who was Hitoshi's mentor.

And who Izuku may or may not have a strange, second-hand sort of not-crush on.

In his defense, Hitoshi's stories about his mentor are always highly entertaining to Izuku. And what he's learned about Eraserhead through his friend just makes Izuku think the man is someone he'd really like to get to know.

Which is what makes being here, topless, covered in watermelon juice, and with an actual audience to witness the semi-sexual remark Eraserhead had just made about him, a special kind of torture.

Because Izuku's never admitted it to anyone, and especially not Hitoshi, but Eraserhead lines up pretty closely with what Izuku would consider his type.

The man understands heroics, and according to his capture and expulsion rate and Hitoshi himself, has a lot of personal dedication and drive. The stories Hitoshi tells about him show he's got a soft streak he keeps well hidden and he's intimidatingly smart.

Plus he's tall, has hair that Izuku admits he wouldn't mind getting his hands tangled in, and looks like he'd be mean in all the right circumstances.

All of that is probably why Izuku finds himself speaking without really giving himself permission to open his mouth.

"Ah," Izuku hears himself say, "maybe we could go on a date first though? If you'd like?"

For a long moment it's so quiet Izuku's pretty sure he can hear himself dying cell by mortified cell.

Eraserhead's face somehow manages to go even blanker.

And then, he smiles.

'Oh wow,' Izuku can't help but marvel as he takes in the expression he's seen palely echoed on Hitoshi's face a million times, 'that's ... unexpectedly attractive.'

He can feel even more heat rush to his face in response as he chews nervously on his lower lip.

"Hope you like coffee," Eraserhead finally says, "and cats."

And Izuku can't help but grin because yes, yes he does.

But he's pretty sure he's going to end up liking Eraserhead even more than all of those put together.

~~~

"Hell is empty," Hitoshi intones when Izuku finally manages to get free of the semi-rioting crowd so he can rush back into the changing room to clean himself up. "All the devils are right fucking here."

Izuku stalls out for a moment, unsure of what, exactly, he's supposed to say to that.

"You've got a date with Eraserhead," Hitoshi plows on.

The expression on his face is caught somewhere between gleeful and absolutely unhinged.

"Yeah," Izuku can't help the grin that steals across his face as he wipes himself down. "Or at least I hope he was serious."

"Oh he was serious," Hitoshi reassures him. "As serious as the heart-attacks basically everyone we know have probably collectively had."

"Do you think he's gonna like me?" Izuku can't help but fret just a bit.

"He's gonna marry you," Hitoshi snips back. "And we're all gonna suffer. Thank the gods you won't be breeding at least. Whatever the both of you are ends with you."

"That's kind of a quick jump to make but quirk science has come a long way," Izuku says absently as he pulls his shirt over his head. "Most couplings are genetically possible these days you know?"

"That was not a challenge," Hitoshi hisses, horror overtaking his expression. "I swear to god Izuku do not spawn with Eraserhead."

Izuku just waves him off as he trots back towards the door to the changing room.

He has an Eraserhead to track down and, hopefully, date plans to iron out.

[redorich]

A favorite trope of mine has always been- getting to see another person’s past. Is it some kind of judgment thing by a higher power? Something like Freeze Day from SCTFOE? Person trapped in a nightmare and their nightmare is being projected? Who knows. All that’s important is after months of healing, some of the Hermits get to see exactly what Tommy went through. It shows short clips of him before being happy, the rise and fall of Manburg, Wilbur going insane, the festival, the withers, all of it. Just short clips of these things though. The last clip of the SMP is just Dream’s mask outlined by his green hood saying, “you’ll stay here alone with just me until you learn to be quite and respectful and not fight those who are in power over you. Even if you have to stay out here *forever*.”

This turned into a whole drabble smh xD

((btw @give-grian-rights helped me so thank you))

-------

The remaining hermits aren’t sure what happened. They have no way of knowing. There was a witch involved, Cub thinks, but what their fallen friends must have done to piss her off to the point of getting cursed is beyond their ken. Among those laid out are Cleo, Grian, Xisuma, Zedaph, and Tommy.

Scar and Cub work their Vex magic together to figure out that their friends are trapped in their worst memories. (Etho calls it a Demonic Hell Viewing Illusion, and False smacks him upside the head for the Naruto reference.) Holding hands with a victim pulls you in, but that’s what they’re counting on. Joe’s already wading through Cleo’s nightmare before anyone gets the chance to ask, and Impulse and Tango aren’t far behind doing the same for Zedaph. However, it doesn’t work for Grian, Xisuma, and Tommy; they were found already holding hands. They must have figured something out about the curse before they succumbed to it. All the hermits can do for them, for the time being, is hope.

Tommy, Grian, and Xisuma wake to the smell of sulphur and smoke. The ground is orange and littered with bullets. Grian grabs Tommy’s hand, and Xisuma grabs a discarded rifle. Tommy points his finger up at the top of a mound of scrap metal and dead bodies. There’s a nether portal, except the obsidian is whiter than quartz. That's where they have to go to get out of here.

All around them, demons lurch and shriek and hiss and all sorts of unholy behavior, bodily flinging themselves at the trio as though they know none of them can take the men on their own, and that just by dogpiling them all one of them will get lucky. Xisuma instantly snaps into a professional mode, the way he sometimes does when he's killing zombies but they keep social spawning. He takes up the lead with machine gun fire and grenades, carving a path through the crowd. Grian takes up the rear with a handgun. Neither Xisuma nor Tommy ask why Grian is so comfortable with a gun. They've got more pressing issues.

An imp gets lucky. It's just enough to crack the visor of Xisuma's helmet, and the imp instantly gets mowed down.

"I can't see," Xisuma rasps through gritted teeth.

"Then take the helmet off," Tommy says, cleaving through an enemy with a sharp piece of scrap metal. Grian breathes in sharply. As far as Grian's aware, Xisuma always wears his helmet.

Xisuma goes quiet for a second. "I suppose you've got a point."

The helmet gets dropped to the ground and demon limbs shuffle it away. They don't have time to look at Xisuma's wild brown hair, his purple eyes, the burn scars on his jaw.

They make it to the portal all in one piece. Xisuma takes one last wistful look at the Martian hellscape, then takes his friends' hands. They step through the portal together.

----

They step out of the portal into the foyer of a high school. Grian's eyes shutter.

"We'll be headed toward the roof, I believe," he says, staring dully through the spectre of a broken, bloody man holding a rope.

Tommy latches onto Grian's clammy hand to ground him as the three ascend stairs and traverse the dark, winding hallways. The ghost follows them. It isn't like Ghostbur-- it's, well, not vengeful, but it's not kind. The man named Gareth keens about Grian's sins, about a boy named Taurtis who Gareth hates, about mafia and yakuza, about his poor wife Jane.

On the last set of stairs, Gareth makes a wailing remark that causes Grian to bodily flinch. Tommy doesn't even know what the ghost said (he wasn't listening).

"Fuck off," Tommy says, "you're the shittest ghost I've ever met. Even my brother could..."

He trails off. This is not the way to fix things for Grian. On a hunch, he reaches into his pocket. Of course the object he's looking for is in there; it's his brother's coat.

He holds the object out to the ghost. "Have some blue."

Gareth warily takes it, dropping his rope. It floods periwinkle, then cyan, then dark royal blue. A weight seems lifted from the ghost's shoulders as he clutches the blue, mutters something about Jane, and leaves.

Tommy takes Grian's hand, then Xisuma's, and they go through the door to the school's rooftop together. They halt as one. The portal is there. Standing between them is a boy maybe Tommy's age, with a corpse at his feet.

"Sam," Grian whispers. "Taurtis."

The standing boy smiles, eyes obscured by a purple mask with a rectangular symbol on it, and flexes bloody wings. The corpse on the ground has blood all over its back, where wings once were, and broken headphones around his neck.

"Man, Grian, you really held out on me," Sam says. "This Watcher power really is something else--"

Sam topples over backward. His body hits the ground in front of the portal. Xisuma lowers his gun.

"He looked like bad news," Xisuma says.

Grian grimaces. "He was. Come on, let's go."

They once again step into the portal.

----

“Do you want to be a hero, Tommy?” Technoblade roars, “Then die like one!”

Their paltry little group of three gets no chance to take in their surroundings, to see what’s going on and where they need to go. All they can process is the legendary PvP champion, acolyte of the Blood God, Technoblade, unleashing Withers upon what once might have been a town.

Tommy yanks them into cover. “I don’t know where the portal is,” he hisses.

Grian squeezes his shoulder. “We’ll find it.”

Explosions rain hellfire down upon them from all angles-- not just the Withers, but TNT buried in the ground. They’re so close, they can see the man who set it off. And he must have, because he’s yelling about it, yelling about his L’Manberg and his unfinished symphony and begging his father to kill him. He’s wearing Tommy’s coat--

Bile rises in the back of Grian’s throat. Tommy wears his brother’s coat.

Tommy’s eyes are glued to the gleaming diamond sword that Wilbur gives to his father. He watches his brother die all over again, and he knows where he must go. He turns his back on his broken family and breathes.

“We need to go to the Nether,” he says. They nod.

The black portal is across the battlefield. They come across corpses more than once on their way, but ignore them. They can’t afford not to.

In the Nether, there is a rickety, dangerous pathway with no rails, made of cobblestone and obsidian and oak logs. Manic-depressive ravings on signs proclaim the path as the road to Logstedshire. Piglins try to knock them off to no avail, and ghasts blow up the bridge behind them as they run. On the other side of the Logstedshire portal is... actually not a hellscape, as Grian and Xisuma have come to expect, but a little village encampment. Nothing is blown up, nothing is amiss, except Tommy himself. And, of course, the figure they spot after they catch Tommy staring at it.

It’s Dream. The up-and-coming famous speedrunner who Grian faintly recalls killing once in MCC, which was apparently a big deal. The man approaches, and Grian realizes where he recognizes the mask from. It’s the same one that Tommy wears.

“Tommy,” Dream says conversationally, “items in the pit.”

Tommy’s hand wavers, reaches up to unclasp his chestplate, but Xisuma’s hand on his shoulder stops him.

“No,” Tommy says.

“No?” Dream parrots incredulously. “You know the rules. It’s for your own good. Armor in the pit. Tools in the pit. Friends in the pit.”

They all gasp, though for different reasons. Tommy’s eyes narrow. “Friends in the pit? You’ve never said that one before.”

Dream’s head twitches. “Friends in the pit. Friends. In the pit.”

The man’s voice is deeper than Tommy remembers. Something seems to resolve within Dream’s behavior, yet he keeps twitching. “You’re in exile, Tommy, you don’t need. Friends. I’m all you need. You were doing so good. I thought you learned to behave. I’m all you need. You don’t need friends.”

What happened to the eloquent poison that used to drip from Dream’s tongue like honey? He sounds like a broken record. All at once, Tommy staggers under the weight of the realization that this isn’t Dream. Somewhere underneath that horrible man that abused him is the real Dream, trapped in his own body and watching the dreamon that possessed him hurt his friends.

Xisuma’s gun makes an appearance again, but Tommy holds up a hand in a silent request for the admin to hold his fire. Tommy grabs Dream by the shoulders, removes Dream’s mask and then his own so that he can look the man in the eyes. “I know you’re in there, Dream. When I get out of this nightmare, I’ll save you. I swear it on my discs.”

Dream’s face twitches erratically. The movement spreads to his whole head, neck jerking. He raises straight up into the air, higher and higher, then explodes into a shower of items and no body. A white portal shimmers into existence.

“What the hell was that?!” Grian demands.

Tommy grins, taking the man’s hand and leading him to the portal. “I’ve got a friend to save.”

Grian snarls. “Tommy, he abused you. He’s not your friend.”

“That wasn’t Dream. It was a--”

“Dreamon,” Xisuma breathes.

Tommy nods. They walk through the portal together, and when they wake, holding each other close, they know they’ve got a mission. They can do it.

[fandomn00blr]

WIPednesday

Tagged by @noire-pandora , @cleverblackcat, and @nirikeehan in the last couple weeks or something...I think? Tagging you all back (if you haven't already done a thing recently, or if you have ,and you wanna do another!) along with anyone else, because I’m lazy and awkward and feel way too out of the loop right now to know who to tag.

I was camping (in 100+ degree heat and tornado warnings and thunderstorms), and then recovering from camping for the past couple of weeks, so I’m only just now getting back to a sort of writing schedule (if by ‘schedule’ we mean it happens sometimes in the tiny little moments I have between Spawn’s various Hot Girl Summer activities...). This is, ummm...is bespoke fanfic a thing? It came from an ongoing conversation with @realace​ about...look, I don’t even know how we got here, but this pairing was mentioned, and I couldn’t resist trying to make this happen. These two can interact at two different points in the games! Which is two times more than most of my rarepairs (Loghain/Stroud, Morrigan/Blackwall, Carver/Nate), so this is practically canon compared to those!

Anyway, here’s Alistair and Anders after spending a night together in Kirkwall doing ‘Warden Things’...😏:

“Anders! Get your lanky ass up! The King’s Guard is out tearing up the whole city searching for their wayward bastard!”

He opens his eyes and is startled to see the aforementioned bastard hastily dressing himself in the corner of the little hovel he calls a bedroom.

“Uh…hang on! I’ll be right there…” Anders shouts out to Hawke, who sounds genuinely concerned, which would be touching, if only she weren’t so fucking offensive all the time.

“Come on! You can hide out at my place until they find the low-lives who probably kidnapped him and are holding him for ransom or something. I don’t want anyone finding you here and tipping off Meredith’s goons!”

He looks questioningly at Alistair, who shakes his head decisively, as if to say “I won’t let that happen…” but Anders knows Meredith has the ultimate authority here and would seize any opportunity to get a notorious apostate like him into the Gallows. So he nods Alistair toward the back tunnel instead, so he can sneak out and re-emerge somewhere else entirely. Then it’s his problem to explain where he’s spent the night. And why he has those marks on his neck. And why he looks so adorably loved-up…

But then Alistair gives him the most pleading puppy dog eyes Anders has ever seen. And he’s seen the way Fenris looks at Hawke when he doesn’t realize anyone’s looking! Alistair might as well be half-mabari right now. And, though he knows it’s stupid and overly-sentimental, Anders can’t resist pulling him in for a farewell kiss.

“Well, then…” Isabela purrs as she pulls back the curtain to his cramped little bedroom. “Guess we found the King.”

“Oh,” Hawke looks absolutely gobsmacked at the two of them. “I — well, shit.”

“What? I did him, too, you know…” Isabela smirks. “Wasn’t a king, yet, but it still counts, I think.”

[votederpycausemufins]

Welp, made another thing for @petrichormeraki ‘s Hermit!tommy au. be warned that this is only a part 1 cause i haven’t finished the whole thing and i need to get my computer looked at so i won’t be able to finish it yet but here’s some of it at least

Disclaimers here are that I only know the general idea of Xisuma’s base and that there’s a honey farm somewhere, but I took liberties with how it is for the story. Also, headcanon that I made specifically just because I want it to happen, canon deaths that don’t end up with a ghost make the person lose a piece of their soul until it can’t support them fully anymore. Then that piece ends up somewhere else. Maybe that’s why the compasses work. But more I just want something like what happens in this fic. For the hurt/comfort.

When Tommy first joined the Hermits accidentally, he hated being around Xisuma. Not only was he the admin of the server, the one who held the most power, but for whatever reason, this guy decided to look like a bee. It was worse when Tommy learned he almost changed up to look like a Strider, but then just went back to a bee. At the very least it wasn’t easy to run into the guy.

It was more the problem of his base. The coolest places and the ones Tommy most liked to visit were the ones in the jungle, especially since the old base he was living in was built there. With no elytra, at least not one he used for more than gliding, Tommy got lost when in the more natural parts of the biomes. And when that happened, he tended to accidentally find Xisuma’s base.

So much of it was bee themed that Tommy disliked it. It reminded him too much of what he left behind, but couldn’t get back. Having the compass was as much as Tommy was willing to have to remind him.

But one day Tommy got killed when he wasn’t being careful. He wasn’t too worried about it, especially after a message in his new communicator had a message from a hermit who picked up his stuff and put it in a chest. They didn’t really have the inventory space to bring it to him and we’re busy enough they couldn’t stay, but it was fine. A chest was the standard.

But right now, the problem was getting to the chest. Not only was it somewhere in the jungle, but it was also most of his gear. Tommy didn’t really have many good backups, never wanting something that someone could take, even though he knows the hermits would never do that. Probably. He’s still wary just to be safe. The most he has in storage is some gold armor for when he goes into the nether.

Tommy donned a mixture of gold and worn iron armor and a mostly used sword to get his stuff. He’s sure he knows the way to his gear until he doesn’t. With the monsters tougher than at his old home, Tommy is worried about dying again as the sun starts to set. He rushed through the jungle a bit faster until he ran into it. Xisuma’s base. Tommy was going to pass it by when monsters started to spawn, with him getting really unlucky and one zombie spawning with full enchanted armor.

Not wanting to die, Tommy scrambled his way into Xisuma’s base. He sighed once he was in a safe place, though upset that he would have to spend the night in such a place.

With nothing much better to do other than sitting, which Tommy hated doing, he started to walk around and explore Xisuma’s base. Close up, it was actually okay. The bee theme designs weren’t as prominent, and all the towers and buildings had farms inside them which were fun to watch. The one problem was the honey farm. This one definitely had a lot to do with bees. Tommy was going to just run by it when a bee popped out.

Tommy actually paused at that. Then smiled. Bees only game out during the day, which meant he could leave. He smiled and ran out of there and went outside to see… it was still night?

Now confused, Tommy went back to the bee farm. He was beginning to think maybe he just imagined it, but then he saw the bee still there. He watched as it kept bopping its head against the glass, ignoring the flower with it and not going back in its hive.

Puzzled, Tommy just watched the bee until he heard the noise of someone using a firework. The sound caught Tommy’s attention, and he looked away. When he turned back, the bee was gone. After looking there for a few seconds, Tommy shrugged and started to walk away. But even then, he still kept looking back, so much that he didn’t notice Xisuma until he ran into the man.

Tommy froze up when he saw the admin standing in front of him, but instead of anything Dream might have done or said, Xisuma spoke in a kind voice. “Oh, sorry Tommy, I didn’t see you there. Were you looking for me?”

Tommy didn’t speak for a little bit until he heard the pop of a bee leaving its hive. “Uh, I just got lost and holed up here, cus I died and was trying to get to my stuff and that one guy isn’t around to sleep. Also one of your bees is fuckin’ weird.”

Xisuma scolded the boy for cussing, then offered to help Tommy get to his stuff. He mostly ignored the bee comment until there was the noise of something softly hitting glass again. Xisuma walked over to the farm and Tommy followed.

“See! Isn’t it supposed to not do that?” Tommy asked, to confused by the mob to be scared of Xisuma or want to leave the bee area.

Xisuma nodded slightly, watching the bee’s odd behavior. “Maybe it somehow got linked to another hive or nest and is trying to get there.”

“So what, you’re gonna let it out?” Tommy asked, bristling a little at the idea.

Xisuma nodded again. “It’s probably the only way we could be sure. I can always breed up another if it leaves.”

The admin took out a silk touch pick and broke the glass. The bee flew out and the glass was replaced so the other bees that had not left the hive just yet wouldn't also escape. Instead of the bee trying to fly out of the base, it flew towards Tommy and hovered around him.

Tommy went rigid as the bee flew towards him. He was sure it would keep going, but instead it stuck around him. “What the fuck do you want then?” He asked the mob even though it couldn’t respond. “I don’t have any of those prissy flowers so bug off.”

But the bee didn’t listen. It seemed quite pleased to stick with him. Tommy nearly drew his sword to kill it, but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to actually his the thing with what it represented to him. Plus Xisuma might get mad and it could break his farm. “Can you just help me get my stuff, maybe it’ll leave once we’re outside.”

Not knowing what else he could say, Xisuma agreed to that. He could tell that something about bees was a sore subject for Tommy. The way he stiffened up around them and also around him. It was part of why he was so surprised to see the boy.

After a bit of walking, Tommy reached the chest of his gear and equipped and stored everything in his inventory. The bee happily bopped up against him and once again Tommy thought about killing it. But instead he just started wandering home, the bee following right behind.

The following day, Xisuma showed up to check on Tommy. While he wasn’t please to see the admin, Tommy at least accepted the gift of a bee hive, especially after his apparent new pet bee would not stop bopping its head against him. Hopefully the hive would give it somewhere to live and it would stop.

Tommy thanked Xisuma for the gift before shoving him out the door, glad for the lack of resistance the admin gave. Then, turning back to the rest of the hobbit hole he moved into, Tommy plopped down the hive right in the middle of the room. “There. Go in there and stop bothering me.”

But the bee didn’t listen, it just kept bopping it’s little fuzzy head against Tommy. Angry now, Tommy grabbed the bee, held it eye level, and looked right into its eyes. “You’re going to stop annoying me and go in that hive, got it?! I’m sick of you flying around me!”

He then let the now trembling mob go and it flew into the new hive. Tommy almost felt regretful about yelling at it. Almost. Grumbling, he went over to his bed to rest now that there wasn’t much to keep him up. Tommy set down his gear nearby, and placed his closed compass on the bed.

With all this bee stuff, Tommy couldn’t help but look at the object. After hesitating for a few moments, he grabbed the item and opened the lid. Inside, the needle danced wildly, not sure how to point with its location in another dimension. Tommy gave a sad sigh and was about to close it again when the needle stopped spinning. It clearly pointed in one direction for a few seconds. Tommy’s eyes widened and he started to turn towards where the needle was trying to guide him, but then it went back to dancing about.

Tommy looked at it confused, before realizing it still might change again. Tubbo may have found a way here. He ran in the direction the needle had been pointing and tripped over the new hive he had placed, cursing as he hit the floor. He looked back up at it to hit it once or something, but the compass has steadied itself again, the needle pointing the other direction, right towards the hive.

[doctoranon]

No Magic In The World.

Written for the Maribat? Get In! Civil war.

This is a direct sequel to I Must Be Dreaming so it would be best to read that. Though it works easily enough by itself.

TW: Mentions of sex, alcohol, driving under the influence and vague suicidal thoughts.

Waking up in another unfamiliar bed, Jason's head was banging with a raging hangover. Rolling over and out the bed he stumbled to the sink in the hotel bathroom to retch. This was becoming a bit of a regular occurrence. But the welcome oblivion of no dreams kept his heart from breaking over and over again every time he woke up and realised Marinette wasn’t going to be laying in the bed next to him. Dreams of her were a sweet torture, and he’d quickly decided no dreams of her were worth the moment of bliss he felt before reality intruded upon his waking mind.

Leaning over the sink he felt rather than saw as two slender arms held him from behind, and for a moment he dreamed of familiar arms and the smell of apple blossoms, before roughly pushing the woman away.

“What the fuck are you still doing here for?” he sneered, looking at her over his shoulder in the mirror. He took the woman in, icy blue eyes and a dark brunette. Looks like his drunken ass couldn’t even get that right. Then again, no one would ever come close to Marinette's fierce beauty.

The woman stuttered in confusion at him. Bless. She thought this was more than a drunken tumble and a subpar substitute. Holding a hand to his banging head he scoffed at ther, pointing at the door. “I don’t give a shit. Fuck. Off.” 

He knew, somewhere in his mind, that he was treating the poor woman awfully. Unfortunately his self disgust at touching another woman but her had him taking it out on her. Flashes of the night before came to mind, and mixed with his already nauseous stomach he threw up what little he had left in his system.

Hearing sobs from the other room and a slam of the door he grimaced. Not his most shining hour but he didn’t give a fuck right now. He’d cheated on Mari, fuck the fact she was- shaking the word from his head he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

He was in a sorry state. Pale skin, dark red rimmed eyes. He’d even lost some muscle mass and weight. He was a shadow of his former self. Splashing some cold water on his face, he moved to the other room, dressing as he found articles of his clothing.

Sitting on the edge of the rumpled bed, one which he refused to look at, he took out a cigarette, lit it and took a drag. What the fuck was wrong with him? This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten hammered and fucked his feelings away with a poor substitute and it disgusted him. How could he ever take someone else into his bed, drunk or not? He physically shuddered as another bout of nausea rolled through his stomach. It always left him feeling unclean. Unworthy. 

He groaned when the silence of the hotel room was broken by the ringing of his phone. He took it in his free hand and scoffed at the displayed name.

Incoming call. Dickhead.

Rejecting the call and throwing it back on the bedside table, he finished his cigarette before lighting a second one straight away. Seeing a mostly empty bottle of whiskey on the dresser he staggered over and picked up a packet of painkillers and proceeded to wash a few down with what was left, relishing the burn at the back of his throat. 

Looking around for another bottle he scoffed at the litter of empty ones. Not one had any left in it. Looked like he was making a trip to the liquor store very soon in his future. 

In the background his phone had started ringing again, be he wasn’t up for his sympathetic older brother to offer a shoulder to cry on. He was fucking done sitting on his ass and crying about it. There was nothing he could do to change it.

He had begged Tikki and Plagg. Gotten down on his fucking knees and begged them. He would never force them- no, Marinette would never forgive him if he forced her beloved Kwamii to act against their will. But it had hurt that they weren’t willing to save her.

He had accused them of all sorts, that they didn’t actually care about her. That they had never loved her. At one point he had even pointed his gun at Plagg before he had destroyed it. He had broken down again in that moment, curing fetal on the floor as he wept for his love to come back. The kwamii had joined him, sharing his grief. But still, ultimately, swore off letting him make the wish. The had told him there was no magic in the world that could bring her back. He had replied she was all the magic in his world.

Now he was travelling, looking for someone, for something, that could bring her back. He wouldn’t believe the Kwamii until he had exhausted every option available to him. Except the pits. He refused to use the pits; to owe Talia something. He would never taint Marinette like that anyway. She was all things good and beautiful and pure in his life, he would never make her like him.

Hearing his phone start ringing again for the umpteenth time, he picked it up and answered.

“What the fuck is so important? Huh?” he answered, face twisting in a rage that was aimed at himself for his actions both last night and this morning. “Six missed calls, Dick. Didn’t you get the memo? I didn't want to fucking talk to you when I rejected the first fucking one!”

The silence that greeted him down the line had his stomach twist in guilt. He knew Dick was only worried for him. Heck even the Demon Spawn had shown worry for him and treated him like fucking glass. It was one of the reasons he had to get the fuck out of the manor. But even then, he couldn’t return to his and Maris' apartment. She was everywhere, in the fabric swatches on the table to the post it notes on the fridge. Their bedding smelled like her and her perfume lingered in the air. It repulsed him.

Everything about the place repulsed him. It was a home made for two. One set of his and another set of hers. Other things that were theirs. Except there was no theirs anymore. It had taken one look in her office room, to the zipped up garment bag he knew held her wedding dress for him to grab his bikes keys and get the fuck out of dodge. At the time he’d simply not wanted to be in that apartment. Ten minutes later he was on the road out of Gotham and no plans of returning any time soon.

“Jay-” he could practically hear his brother trying to figure out what to say to him, could easily imagine his shoulders would be hunched and tense as he deliberated. It was something he did when planning his next move in the field. Mentally he snorted. Did that equate him with a battle or an enemy? Either sounded right to him to be fair.

“Are you going to tell me where you are today?”

“I couldn’t tell you even if I felt like it.”

“Jay please.” he could hear the frustration in the acrobats voice, but he couldn’t really give a damn. “Come home.”

“Home, Dick?” he questioned, licking his chapped lips and picking up his bikes keys. He didn’t give a shit if he was over the limit. Death would reunite him with Marinette, and if he made it to his destination the liquor would help with that too. “I have no home anymore. She was home.”

“Then tell me where you are, Little wing! Please!” he closed his eyes shut tightly, gritting his teeth together. He hated that his family was hurting. But he couldn’t give up. He had to find a way to bring her back.

There had to be some magic somewhere that would give her back to him. He’d seen it happen for everyone else, so why couldn’t it happen for him? For them? Why couldn’t they have this one piece of happiness? Just this once?

“I can’t do that, Dick. You’ll try and stop me, bring me back to Gotham.” He paused as he opened his eyes and swung his leg over the bike. “I won't stop looking for a way to bring her back to me until I know I’ve exhausted all possibilities. Because I owe her that much. And if I die trying, well I owe her that too.” he told him, smirking sardonically.

“That’s not true, Jay! Marinette wouldn’t ever want you to do this. Please, Jason, this is killing you.” Dick begged him down the phone. “Come home. We can still search from here, but please, come back, be with your family.”

Putting his keys into the bike and revving the engine he grinned dryly. “Sorry, Dickie bird. Not today.” he hung up then, turning the phone off and pocketing it. Kicking up the bike stand he took off, he was sure he remembered the nearest booze shop was only 5 minutes away, and even that was five minutes too long.

The conversation had flared up the pain in his chest and it needed numbing again. Sweet oblivion here he came. 

[chubbymoongoddess]

TW: Mentions of mpreg, slavery, rape and stockholm syndrome.

if this isn't your thing, don't read it. This is also set in modern times.

Longer version.

Omega Jm born into a royal family, making him the prince. It's rare for male omegas to be born, so he's extra special. The more he grows over the years, the more beautiful he gets. He literally has every man and woman in the kingdom wanting him by the time he's 21. Not only is he gorgeous, but he's humble as well and his kingdom loves him for that just as much as they love him for his beauty. Jm takes to time to greet and speak to everyone he can on his outings, making sure to listen to any complaints they may have so he can relay them to his father. Literally the definition of an angel.

Well, one night he goes on an unsupervised outing. Everything goes well until he's on his way to return home. It's late and the streetlamps are really the only lights on so it's not that easy to see. One minute Jm is conscious and well aware of what street he's on and the next he's out cold, body being hauled into a windowless, unmarked van. Of course this would happen on the one night he decided to sneak out by himself. He should have known better.

He wakes up with a massive headache in a cold, damp stone room, much like a cell, with shackles on his feet and wrists, the ones on his feet being connected to the wall. His breathing is heavy as he's terrified and it only accelerates as the door to the room opens, a strange man he's never seen before walking in with an annoying smirk on his face.

"Well, well, our gorgeous prince finally awakens."

Jm backs up against the wall as much as he can, voice shaking as he speaks. "W..Who are you? Where am I? Why.. Why are you doing this?"

The man just laughs, moving over to Jm, grabbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You're very sought after. I'd be stupid if I didn't try to catch you. You're going to sell for a very high price."

He was terrified before but those words make Jm's blood run cold. Fuck.. Fuck he had been captured by slave traders. If he was sold he knew he'd most likely fucking die after being tortured and abused for god knows how long. The only thing he could think to do was to plead for his life.

"No!! No please! I..If you let me go I.. I can get my father to pay you anything you want! Just please let me go!" There were tears in his eyes and his voice was wavering, bottom lip quivering as he tried not to sob.

The man just laughed, letting the omega's face go as he moved back toward the door. "The only thing I'll get if I let you go is sent to prison. What, do you think I'm stupid? Shut up and get some rest. Tomorrow is the auction day and I won't have you looking like some sort of sleep deprived zombie." and with that, he left, leaving Jm alone to sob himself to sleep on the hard stone floor.

Morning comes and jm is taken to a large room filled with seats with a single, circular stage in the middle. He watches as one by one, different people of different ranks and genders are auctioned off, until it's finally his turn and he's dragged up onto the stage by the shackles. He stands there as men start placing bids on him almost immediately. It doesn't seem to ever stop and jm just wants to go home. His attention is diverted when a man, obviously an alpha by his build, jm can't make his scent out in this room, stands up, offering more than 70 million usd for him. It's over then. the auction is won as nobody else wants to bid higher. Jm is led off of the stage and into the back room to meet with the man who bought him. He'll admit, he's pretty handsome, but that thought shouldn't even be running through his mind right now. The man doesn't ask his name. He knows who he is. They all know who he is. All the man says to Jm is "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

The omega is transported back to the alpha's home and luxurious doesn't even begin to explain how nice his house is. It's basically a mansion surrounded by massive, well kept gardens and fountains. Jm swears he hears a horse whinny in the distance. On his ride there, he's told what he will be used for. Sex and feeding. It scares the fuck out of Jm and he starts to try to get out of the carriage. He does NOT want this. There's no way he's ever going to want this! The alpha just grabs him by the hair and yanks him back. He's have made it a few steps away if the alpha wasn't so quick. Once he's shown his room, which is no more than a bedroll on the ground in the dungeon, he's explained the rules and what the alpha expects of him. He answers with a bitter "yes sir."

He's given an hour or two to "settle in" before the alpha comes back with servants wheeling in a little cart full of food. He hasn't eaten in a while so he is hungry, but only eats until he's full. After refusing a few times, the alpha forces his mouth open and forced the rest of the food into his mouth, leaving Jm with a bloated stomach that renders him too full to move. It's then that the alpha commands him to undress and get into "presenting" position. Jm panics. He's too full to even fucking move and he really doesn't want this alpha inside of him. He pleads, struggles even, but the alpha has had enough of the omega's resisting so he forces him into the position himself. Jm blocks out everything that happens next. All he knows is that he fought as hard as he could the whole way through.

This goes on for months with jm resisting and fighting back each time. It has resulted in him having a few black eyes, bruises littering his body. He hasn't gained any weight because he purges everything he eats when the alpha leaves him alone for the night. In fact, he's lost weight because of it. It results in more beatings. He doesn't want to give in, his will is strong and he keeps telling himself that he'll fight until the day he dies. That is until he finds out that he's carrying a pup. It was bound to happen, he had gone through a heat not too long ago and the alpha was in his "room" non stop. Things changed then as Jm's world came crumbling down. He couldn't continue to fight when there was a pup inside of him. He couldn't bear to have it hurt, despite it being his rapist's spawn. The next time the alpha comes in, Jm just looks up at him and opens his mouth. There's not much light in his eyes and the alpha notices. He asks what's going on and Jm reluctantly tells him. The prince has never seen the alpha's face light up the way it does at the news. Before he gets too ahead of himself though, he asks if Jm is going to be good from now on to which the prince quietly nods. The alpha is pleased with this and unshackles Jm from the wall, leading him out of the dungeons and down one of the many long hallways in the mansion. He's lead to a large bedroom, furnished with all sorts of things from bookshelves to a large tv hanging on the wall with a soft looking couch in front of it. There's a bathroom attached to the room as well. The only thing that Jm can really focus on is the bed.

He immediately starts to tear up, moving toward it. At first the alpha thinks he's going to try to run for it and he starts to reach for Jm's hair to yank him back but when he notices that he's moving toward the bed, he stops, watching as the omega carefully sits on it. It's been months since he's been inside of an actual room like this and all he wants to do is sleep. He asks the alpha if it's okay to which he responds a simple "after I'm finished with you." Of course it would be like that. Jm nods with a sigh and lets everything happen as normal, only this time, when the alpha is finished, he unshackles Jm, taking them in his hand and leaves, locking the door behind him. For the first time in months, Jm doesn't purge and he takes a shower before falling asleep.

Four months down the line, Jm is a different person. He's only been smacked a few times in the face since he's found out he's pregnant. After the last slap two weeks ago, he hasn't acted out since. He does his very best to keep "his alpha" happy, referring to him as master, owner..even my alpha . This has had him rewarded multiple times with things he asks for. Certain foods, games, anything to keep his mind busy when he's alone. He's thought about asking to call his family once, but decided against it as he knew he'd get punished for even suggesting it. Due to all of the stuffing the alpha made him do and since he was no longer purging, Jm had gained and it had definitely begun to show. He only ever wore robes anymore but he could feel how his ass bounced as he walked, could feel his thighs rub together more, there was even a bit of pudge on his stomach that wasn't caused by the pup. It.. It oddly felt.. good?

Jm exhaled and quickly shuffled into the bathroom to look at himself. His stomach wasn't very big yet but there was a rather noticeable bump and as he ran his hands over it, he bit his lip. The moment he turned around to look at his ass in the mirror though, he started to leak slick. It only got worse as he reached back to smack himself, watching his cheeks jiggle. He figured he had some time before the alpha came back so, he leaned back against the sink, groaning as he felt his ass spread against it slightly. He started to stroke himself, whimpering and keeping his noises to a minimum, lest anyone would hear. somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was wrong. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way, but at the moment, he really could not care less. He came harder than he had ever came before after a few moments, panting heavily as he rested back against the sink. He began to wonder if he'd get more praise and rewards if he continues to gain and bare offspring for his alpha. He'd have to possibly ask the next time he came in. The prince cleaned himself and the mess he made up and went to sit on the bed to wait.

When his alpha came in, he found Jm sitting on his knees with his hands on his thighs. He raised a brow at the omega, moving over to stroke his cheek. He asks what's going on and Jm asks him about everything that's on his mind, promising he'll be a very good boy if the alpha agrees to this. His alpha is taken aback, honestly. He agrees almost immediately and explains that this is what he has bought Jm for. The omega nods and immediately crawls closer, opening his mouth for the food that his alpha had brought him. He was going to be the best boy possible from now on.

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

In my mind I see Jm getting to be about 450-500lbs in this. Still very mobile despite his weight. He essentially gives this alpha quite a few offspring, enjoying it each time. He eventually "falls in love" with this alpha, falls in love with how he is a servant to him. Loves the way the alpha makes him do certain things like crawling on his hands and knees, begging for his food or his alpha's cock sometimes. There's no dumbification really in this either. Jm is just tired of being beaten and he falls in love with.. feeling how big he's gotten and enjoys all of the belly rubs and groping his alpha gives him. He's able to see his pups, though not much. I kind of had an idea of this alpha eventually agreeing to let Jm see his family once as well. Idk.

[kominum]

rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst

wc: ~2.2k 

warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited

please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write. 

It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.

The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”

“More like who the fuck are you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.  

“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”

“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”

“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”

Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”

“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.

His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.

-

He should backtrack.

He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.

You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.

He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”

You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”

And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”

“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.

“Hot chocolate,” you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”

“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”

At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”

“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”

But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.

The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”

Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”

It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.

Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?

You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”

“…yeah.”

“Should I ask from or to where?”

“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”

You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”

“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”

“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”

A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”

“Well, you know…”

It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.

And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.

You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.

The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”

Say what now?

“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”

“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”

“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”

You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?

“I told you, I don’t need your help—”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”

You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.

“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.

“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”

“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.

You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.

You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”

Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.

And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Tentaquicky

Pairing; Jeon Jeongguk(BTS) x open male tentacle monster character. Imagine whoever you want. Genre; Smut. Monster au I guess? Borderline Crack. Humour. Warnings; Tentacle smut. Multiple orgasms(two) Name calling by author(sorry jk) Overstimulation. Profanity, like lots though once again, mostly by author. Cum eating. Too much cum but like, monster so its valid. Throat fucking. Bottom JK. I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed anything. Word Count; 2.7k  

Jeongguk gets fucked in an alley by a tentacle monster and discovers he got some kinks.

Read below the cut

🐙

It started like any other time, lips on his and a hand wrapped around his hard cock. The lips were slick and wet and the hand warm and dry and it was fucking heavenly. Jeongguk had always liked it a little on the rougher side even if he had been too shy to tell anyone that. And it was only supposed to be a hookup, some random guy from the club jerking each other off in the back alley before returning to the club and going their separate ways, so Jeongguk really didn’t see the point of even trying to gather the nerves to tell this guy.

It was supposed to be normal. Standard. Run of the mill. You know, nothing extraordinary. 

But damn, something about this guy was making Jeongguk want something else, something more, something he couldn’t even put his finger on(though he really wanted to put both his fingers and his tongue on something more, something bigger, thicker, fatter, longer, girthier, all those words Jeongguk craved in his mouth).

And this next moment should’ve been the moment Jeongguk put a stop to it all to really consider what the actual fuck is happening because the stranger’s tongue seemed to grow and thicken and fucking lengthen and the next thing Jeongguk knew it was was prodding at the back of his throat cautiously.

He gagged, of course, he gagged, he hadn’t expected it and wasn’t prepared to have his throat fucked at all while making out but holy shit did it feel good.

Jeongguk relaxed his throat and the man hummed feeling the muscles loosen, allowing his newly rounded tongue to wiggle down, only barely, before pulling back and trying again.

And Jeongguk, our favourite little cockslut, whined and moaned and swallowed it down further, practically begging for it.

While Jeongguk was busy getting his throat absolutely destroyed and loving every second of it, the man removed his hand from the leaking cock to push down the tight leather trousers further until they were bunched around Jeongguk’s ankles.

And Jeongguk, Jeongguk thought it couldn’t get better but then there was a hand on each asscheek to pull them apart and something slick and rounded was prodding at his exposed hole and he was so glad that Hoseok had dragged him to the club that night. 

For a moment, Jeongguk didn’t exactly register that there was no physically possible way that it was a cock pressing insistently against his rim; his back was to the wall and the stranger was in front of him, so unless this guy had some kind of elastidick, it just wasn’t possible.

The moment passed and Jeongguk’s right hand flew from his partner’s shoulder in an attempt to reach around and touch whatever it was but something wrapped around his wrist and pinned it to the wall by his side, followed by his left hand too for good measure.

Jeongguk finally opened his watering eyes to look at the man who was already staring at him with dark eyes, full of lust and a hunger Jeongguk had never had directed at him before. A shiver ran down his spine.

Slowly, Jeongguk lowered his gaze, doing his best to look to the side to find out what had his arms pinned, all he knew was that it(they?) felt firm yet squishy and soft in a contradiction that he couldn’t wrap his poor horny brain around.

But due to being pressed against the stranger with his tongue(?) still pressing in and out of his throat at a leisurely pace, he couldn’t see jack shit. 

A desperate, pleading whine vibrated his throat and the man groaned at the feel of it but respectfully returned his monster tongue to his own mouth and took a step back. 

“Wh-wha..?” Now Jeongguk wasn’t the most eloquent at the best of times so his inability to string together a coherent single word let alone a sentence in the situation could be easily forgiven.

While his chest heaved in an attempt to return his breathing back to normal, Jeongguk’s eyes once again roamed aside but this time he found what exactly his bindings were made of.

Or at least he thought he would’ve but the things wrapped around his wrists looked like fucking tentacles and well, that couldn’t be right. Right? Like, tentacles...like monster tentacles...fuck.

Really, he should’ve noticed from the tongue that grew in his fucking mouth that something wasn’t quite human about this fella but Jeongguk is nothing but a hentai loving, tentacle dick riding slut, so honestly he wasn’t opposed to the progression at all.

The man just watched, hoping that this wasn’t going to be another human who he would have to knock out and drag away to have their mind wiped or at least memories altered in a way that would only make them sound batshit crazy if they ran off screaming to the authorities.

He really had felt that special kind of tingle he got around humans that were at least open to monster fucking, but he had been wrong before- sometimes he couldn’t tell the difference between really needing a piss and the special tingle and it had led to some less than ideal situations.

Finally, Jeongguk’s gaze travelled along the length of the smooth, deep pink-tinted purple tentacle to where it was slimmest, exactly where the man’s dick should’ve been. But instead, three tentacles sprouted, each barely thicker than a single thumb at the base to allow them to spawn from the same limited area.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk exhaled, breathless even with lungs full of air. 

“Three dicks.” 

“Not exactly.” The man chuckled, relaxing upon noticing that his pretty little human wasn’t at all disgusted or scared, if anything, he looked more into their hook up than before they stopped dancing to find somewhere relatively private to get each other off.

Before Jeongguk’s very eyes, another tentacle sprouted, growing and reaching out, getting thicker as it stretched until it was wrapped around Jeongguk’s neglected cock. 

The human whimpered pitifully and jerked his hips forward only for the warm appendage to tighten almost painfully around the base of his erection, preventing him from moving or gaining any pleasure from his efforts. At least that was the plan but Jeongguk discovered he liked it, if anything.

“Oh, I guess I got real lucky with you, huh, little one?” The monster cooed teasingly.

“Lube?” Jeongguk asked, unwilling to beat around the bush when he could be getting railed by a real tentacle, maybe two if he played his cards right.

“My secretions work better than any human lubricant.” 

“Oh fuck, tentacle lube,” Jeongguk tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes closed in an attempt to not prematurely blow his load because man, this was all of his wettest dreams rolled into one. 

“Fuck me, come on, put it in me already, I stretched before coming out, almost my whole fucking fist I can take-” The pressure on his rim cut him off and made his eyes blow wide when the tentacle that hadn’t moved from between his barely spread thighs breached his hole. 

It seemed to expand inside him, instantly pushing against his prostate and making him gasp and twitch. 

He was full in a way he had never been before and just knew he would never be able to replicate no matter how many toys or human dicks he shoved in his ass.

“Good boy,” 

“Fuck yeah I am.” 

The man only chuckled in response and said nothing more.

Not that he could really when he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to reveal another tentacle in his place. 

Jeongguk’s mouth was wide open and his eyes begging in a split second. 

They both groaned deeply as the tonguetacle returned to its rightful place fucking Jeongguk’s mouth and throat, though now it wasn’t gentle or slow, it was almost vicious, the speed and depth at which it worked.

A mixture of spit and thick secretion pooled in Jeongguk’s eager mouth until it spilt over, drooling down his chin, sliding over his jaw and dripping onto his chest, revealed by having about five too many buttons open; standard for club going Jeongguk since he turned 23 and the world thanked him for it.

The tentacle on his dick finally loosened its hold and leaked a little, just enough to ease the slide as it curled around in a slow, teasing manner that was entirely contradictory to the battering his throat was getting and the thick, unwavering pulsating in his asshole that he just knew was going to leave him gaping. He couldn’t fucking wait to bend over in front of a mirror later to get a good look at it, he hoped that monster cum would leak out. But beggars can’t be choosers- though Jeongguk would happily beg for it if it came down to it.

Getting destroyed at three different sensitive parts of his body in different ways had Jeongguk fucking hurtling towards his orgasm at a speed and intensity which he had only read of in poorly written fanfiction by authors that have no idea what they’re doing where smut writing is involved. Incredible.

It barely took another minute before he found himself writhing and shuddering as his orgasm exploded from his dick like a twitchy weird little fleshy volcano that spews cum. And it was wonderful.

The tongue receded from his mouth so that he didn’t choke in a way that would not be sexy at all.

 But the one in his ass, it continued its work, pounding and throbbing, sending Jeongguk into oversensitivity but all he could do was whimper and whine and fucking take it like the good boy he is. 

It felt as if it continued for hours, the relentless stimulation on his prostate, the slick touches to his still hard though tired yet enthusiastically twitching cock.

Then all at once, all four tentacles started to swell and that sent Jeongguk into another orgasm, much less intense but equally as mind numbing as the last.

He was barely coherent enough to notice the sudden slick exploding all over his body, over his forearms, over his crotch and dick to merge with his own cum, in his ass at such a quantity that it was already trying to escape past the tentacle. 

“Fuck, such a good little doll for me,” The stranger panted, showing the first and only sign of the whole ordeal that he was at all affected by everything that had happened.

He was breathing heavily and slumped forward a little, something thick and shimmering spilling from his mouth. Jeongguk wanted to taste it, of fucking course he wanted to taste it. It’s Jeon Jeongguk.

The man seemed to understand the whimper that pierced the gap between them and stepped forward to slide their lips together.

Jeongguk didn’t know what exactly the stuff was, if it was some of that tentacle lube or monster cum that spilled from the tentacle in the man’s mouth, but whatever it was, it was fucking delicious and Jeongguk never wanted to stop sucking at the tongue that had returned. 

Wasting a drop of the thick liquid was utter blasphemy to the monster fucker.

The man didn’t seem to mind at all, just stuck his tongue out and allowed the human to inhale every single drop from it, followed by his lips until there was nothing left.

Jeongguk whined pitifully.

“There’s plenty left, don’t worry,” The man informed, motioning downwards between their bodies. 

So Jeongguk lowered his head and found more of the shimmering slick covering his soft cock and the tentacle supporting it. 

“Want it, little one?” 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk nodded. 

A shudder travelled through his body as the tentacle wrapped around his dick to drag the mix of fluids off of it before lifting to enter his parted mouth. 

The human eagerly swallowed down every glob with little moans and happy hums. 

After that, each of his arms were lifted to his mouth to be licked clean and let go, leaving sticky marks and bruises circling his wrists that Jeongguk hoped wouldn’t heal for at least a week.  

“One more.” Jeongguk commented, throat sore from the fucking it received but he kind of liked it. He really was learning a lot about his kinks in such a short time.

They both looked down to the only tentacle left protruding from the man’s crotch, the others had retreated into his body leaving one single, thick one left, the one that was still snug in his ass. 

“I’ll pull out now, okay?” 

“But the cum,” He whined, shaking his head in argument. “Want it in my ass or mouth. Don’t wanna waste it.” 

“Whatever you want, doll.” The man lowered to a crouch and pulled Jeongguk’s trousers from his ankles, finally giving his legs freedom. But instead of letting the human move, the monster hoisted Jeongguk up into the air, pressing his back harder against the wall and holding him up with two new tentacles that appeared. 

“Fuck, they’re strong?” Jeongguk breathed out in awe, head tipping back against the brick as his fingers knotted in the man’s hair instinctively. 

He mentally added strength to his rapidly growing kink list.

“Should’ve fucked me against the wall like this.” 

His breath hitched and his fingers tightened when he felt a tongue lapping around his rim to clean up the tiny amount of shining cum that had escaped.

Little by little, the pressure in his ass decreased as the tentacle slowly slimmed down to allow the man to catch the dripping slick in his mouth without wasting a drop. 

When his mouth was full, the tentacle plugged Jeongguk’s hole back up and the man got to his feet.

Jeongguk’s back dragged down the brick until he was lower than the man. At the rise of an eyebrow, the human opened his mouth and tipped his head back. 

The monster leaned over him and opened his mouth slowly, feeding his cum to the desperate male.

Jeongguk wanted until the man backed up before closing his mouth, lifting his head and swallowing it down greedily.

“More?” Jeongguk requested, eyes wide with a hint of darkness revealing lust hiding behind the glaze of two orgasms and being fucked dumb.

“There will be none left to take home with you if you eat much more,” 

Yet he still returned to his previous place between Jeongguk’s propped open thighs to suck out a final mouthful to spit into the humans’ mouth.

As Jeongguk swallowed it down, he was gently lowered to the floor and the tentacle in his ass slipped out slowly. He was allowed to at least suck it clean before it retreated and the monster’s crotch looked like any other human crotch with a soft dick where it should be. 

The two got themselves into a presentable state; dicks tucked away and clothes straightened. And well, Jeongguk’s makeup was smudged and he had glittering stains all over his shirt but he couldn’t do a thing about either of those so he just shrugged and didn’t even bother trying to clean up more.

It was clear he had been fucked and he wasn’t even going to try and hide it. Best fuck of his life.

“Can you walk?” The stranger asked, eyeing Jeongguk carefully, as if he was ready to jump forward and catch the human if he fell. How sweet. 

“Will you carry me if I say no?” Jeongguk suggested, partly cheeky, partly suggestive which only made the man laugh amusedly.

“Come on, your friends must be worried.” He offered his hand.

Jeongguk took it and pushed himself away from the wall. His legs felt like fucking jelly and his ass wet. 

Forget what he said earlier about the making out and handjob feeling like heaven, this was heaven for the human, utter bliss. 

He stopped in his steps and gave the stranger a cute pleading look. 

“You seriously want me to carry you?” 

“If it means you’ll take me home and fuck me full again, yes because I’m already leaking.” 

“Do you often fuck strangers in dirty alleys and then take them home?” 

“No but I’ll make a habit out of it if they all have tentacles.” 

“I definitely picked the right human.” He pulled the human closer only to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

“Luckily for both of us, I only live around the corner.” 

🐙

A/N- Part of me wants to apologise for this shit show but mostly I don’t because it amused me.  Apparently I’m not good at writing serious smut anymore though, who knew  ~Chee

[loving-barnes]

RED, SUS! - BUCKY BARNES

(A/N): I mean, come on, I had to write one where the team is playing Among us.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: Tony calls everyone to play the current video game trend - Among us.

Warning: language, a bit fluff at the end

Words: 2800+

FULL MASTERLIST

RED, SUS! - BUCKY BARNES 

The gaming world was absorbed by the new game. Everyone was streaming it, playing with friends. It was the perfect game to play during a pandemic. Unfortunately, the illness got into the Avengers compound too. Some of the agents and workers were in isolation due to the virus. Also, even though some people could be considered as Gods, this nuisance got them too. Clint remained isolated in his room, Natasha and Wanda were sick too. Their symptoms were mild, fortunately. 

Tony’s orders were strict: social distancing for at least 14 days; checking via FRIDAY if anyone was in the kitchen; no gatherings or work meetings; those not affected had to be prepared for urgent or unexpected missions; masks were necessary for the hallways and common rooms and many more.

Every day, between two and five in the afternoon, they had to remain in their rooms due to obligatory disinfection that was happening in common rooms, hallways and other rooms. 

They were in the middle of their two-week personal lockdown when Tony sent everyone a message to log onto their laptops. Y/N was reading a book, slowly falling asleep when it happened. She checked her phone: Conference call, urgent, now. 

Y/N knew Tony pretty well. These types of messages never meant discussing work or missions. It was something for his amusement - mostly. Unwillingly and without a choice, she turned on her laptop and joined the conference call. 

Natasha: Hey, YN, you joined!

Y/N waved with a hand and then scratched her neck. She looked like a mess - baggy jumper, hair in a bun and her face looked sad and tired. In conclusion, she didn’t care less. The team saw her in her worst already - drunk and almost dead. 

Sam: What happened to you, Y/N? You look terrible. 

Y/N: Shut it, Wilson. I am well. This is my pandemic outfit. 

Bucky chuckled. She knew it was him because she could recognize his voice and other sounds anywhere. 

Steve: Tony, what is the meaning behind all of this? 

Tony: I’m glad you asked. Now that you are all here, and as you can see, I wanted you to join me in an adventure like never before. 

Y/N: Tony, I will not drink with you while being on a conference call. 

Tony: Y/N, I am not a madman. I don’t believe in virtual drinking. No, this one does not involve alcohol. All you need is your brain and the ability to lie. 

Natasha: Sounds interesting, continue. 

Tony: There is this new video game called Among Us which is an online multiplayer game. This game is pretty simple, there are crewmates or impostors. Crewmates have to do tasks to win and Impostors have to sabotage, fake tasks and kill to win. The goal of the game is to identify impostors and vote them out - yes, there will be meetings where we have to vote out someone or skip. The meetings also happen when someone reports a body. 

Both Wanda and Y/N made a sound that reminded of howling. They were interested. 

Bucky: Come on, you really called us to play some stupid video game. 

Wanda: Hey! Shush! I want to play. I am so bored in my room. I need some distraction. 

Y/N: Yes, exactly. This sounds so good. Let’s play, everyone, please.

Steve: Honestly, I am bored so I will join. However, I need instructions. 

Tony: Not a problem, buddy. I have already installed the game and sent you everything necessary. Just to explain one last detail. We will be on a conference call while playing. But, once the round starts, everyone has to mute their mics. When a meeting is called, you have to unmute and we discuss who to vote out and why. Once you are dead, you have to stay muted until the end of the game. At the beginning of every round, you will see whether you are an imposter or a crewmate. Don’t forget, impostors have to lie. 

Y/N: Give us ten minutes to check the materials and to start the game, alright? We have some people that are not too good with this type of technology. 

Y/N mocked Steve and Bucky especially. They were friends and she occasionally had to tease them. And when Sam was getting on her nerves, she would treat him the same way, if not even worse. 

Clint: Oh, that is easy. 

Natasha: Finally, something that will keep me occupied for more than ten seconds. 

Bruce: Do I have to play? 

Tony: Yes. Ten people are needed for two impostors and for it to be fun. You are playing, Banner.

Y/N: Does everyone understand? 

The team simultaneously agreed, each person with a different tone. Y/N turned on the game, as well as the rest of the team did, putting on the code Tony had sent them. She spawned in a lobby, as a little lime figure. 

Tony: You can also customise colours and accessories by coming to the laptop and using it. 

Y/N quickly did as Tony informed them. She changed the colour to purple and put a golden crown on. It was adorable and it did represent her a little. When she was finished, the rest of the team was in the lobby. They also customised their figures to represent them. 

Y/N: Oh my god, this is already so much fun.

Tony: Just to clarify - the crewmate’s vision is lower than the imposters have. The kill cooldown is 30 seconds. Voting time is 120 seconds, etc. You can see it on your left. I am starting the game and don’t forget to mute your mics. 

Y/N muted her mic as the game started. She was a crewmate. They all were standing around a table. She started to move to the right. That was when she noticed a map on the screen. When she opened it, a blue map appeared with yellow exclamation marks. When she ran to the first room, she noticed a chair was illuminated with yellow colour. 

"Alright, asteroids," she mumbled and did the task. 

Other players passed her, or stayed near her, even Bucky’s character did. His figure was white. When she moved, he moved with her. “That’s sus,” she commented and moved down the map to find another task. Bucky was still with her until the lights went off. 

“Fuck,” she whisper-shouted when the light around her was just a tiny circle. Several figures were around her and a report button appeared. She quickly clicked it. 

A board with all the names showed. Wanda and Sam were dead. She quickly unmuted her mic to talk to the rest of the players. “What the fuck was that?”

Tony: Where is the body?

Y/N: Down in the O2 I believe. The lights went off and suddenly, so many people were around me. Just a report button appeared. 

Steve: Who was there except you? 

Y/N: I saw Bucky, who was following me - by the way, sus, Barnes. You did your asteroids way too quickly. 

Bucky: I didn’t have that task, I just wanted to stay with you. 

Tony: Sus!

Natasha: Steve and I were in the admin. That fucking card swipe. I failed it like ten times! 

Y/N: Anyway, I think I saw Sam, Bruce and Clint with us. Now, Sam is dead. 

Clint: What if it’s you?

Y/N: How dare you, Barton? 

The time was slowly coming to its end and it was time to vote. Y/N had no idea who did the kill. She quickly voted skip. 

Bruce: We can skip because there are still eight of us. 

Tony: Banner, sus. 

Everyone skipped except Tony, who voted Clint. No one was ejected and the game could continue. They reappeared in the cafeteria around the table. This time, Y/N went down, because her map showed her she had some task there. Again, Bucky followed her. He stayed at the very beginning of the room while she went in and did the card swipe task. She was lucky to finish it on her second try. Once she was finished, Bucky was nowhere to be seen. 

She moved to the wires task. She heard the door to the cafeteria close. When she cleared the task, Bucky was again with her. Maybe he was just protecting her. She had no idea. 

The reactor was called. It was time to fix it. Bucky and Y/N moved through storage, under the electrical where they were met with Natasha, Tony and Bruce. They all moved to the reactor where Vision was. Everyone stacked on the upper reactor while Y/N was down alone. The reactor was saved and a body was reported. Natasha and Steve were killed. 

Bucky: What the hell happened? Natasha is dead and there are like four of us. 

Y/N: Was that a double kill? 

Tony: No, it was only Nat. Captain was killed somewhere else, obviously. 

Bruce: Most of us were together except Y/N, Bucky and Clint. 

Bucky: Y/N and I were in admin, doing our tasks. 

Tony: What about you, Vision? 

Vision: I am afraid I was alone most of the time. I did see people on cameras where I spent most of the time this round. 

Y/N: Clint, what about you? 

Clint: I was in… I don’t know the name but I came from the upper side of the map. 

Tony: I saw Steve going the way where medbay is. 

Y/N: Barton, you killed Steve!

Clint: No, I didn’t. 

Tony: Barton, get out of here. 

The voting was quickly coming to its end and almost everyone voted. Clint was the last one. He refused. When the time was up, the gang voted for Clint and he was ejected. 

Bucky: That’s what you get.

Y/N: That’s sus.

The game continued and Y/N was almost done with her tasks. Bucky was most of the time with her, again. When the lights went out again, she had decided not to go into the electrical. She didn’t want to die. It had been a long time since something happened. No bodies were reported, the taskbar was almost full. Alone, she quickly ran to the cafeteria and pressed the report button. When the board appeared, Only Bruce, Bucky and her were alive. 

Y/N: What?!

Bruce: Bucky, how could you? 

Bucky: Honestly, Bruce, I saw you kill Tony. Don’t blame me for this. 

Y/N: Oh no.

Bruce: Y/N, please don’t believe him, please. I am not the impostor. I was about to report the body when you hit the emergency button. 

Bucky: Wow, you are such a good liar. 

Y/N: No, don’t do this to me. 

Both of the men voted for each other, leaving her to decide the fate of the game. Who should she vote out? Bucky was with her most of the time and she did not see Bruce a lot. It made sense it was Banner. However, Bucky could be very good at this, using tactics like being in a field. 

Bruce: Y/N, you have to vote - vote for him. I am a crewmate. I saw him kill Tony in the lower reactor. 

Y/N: I mean, to be honest, Bucky was with me almost the whole game. I don’t think he would be able to do this. 

Bruce: No, Y/N, don’t do this. He needed you as an alibi. 

Bucky: How the hell would I do that? I was by her side the whole time and did my tasks. 

Y/N quickly voted for who she believed was the killer. When the results had shown, she voted for Bruce. For her, it made a lot of sense. How else would Bucky be able to do it? The rest of the team unmuted, screaming her name, laughing and making scenes. After a few seconds, the revelation came - they lost. Bucky was, in fact, the second impostor. 

Y/N: I mean, fuck both of you. What the actual fuck. You fucking tricked me!

Tony: Kids calls it marinating. 

Bucky: I am sorry, doll. You were the perfect person to stick with. 

Y/N: Again, fuck you. 

Bucky: You wish.

Sam: Wow, can you feel the sexual tension? 

Natasha: Sam, why do you make such stupid comments. You are such an intelligent man. 

Y/N changed her colour to Red, taking Wanda’s colour. She didn’t mind because she changed it into yellow. The next few games were funny. Two rounds Tony was an impostor. First with Steve than with Bruce. Two hours later, it was Y/N’s turn and she was paired with Bucky. 

“Holy shit,” she mumbled and sighed. This was her moment and she wanted to win, fast. She created a strategy. Before she could play by it, her phone rang. Bucky’s name appeared on her screen. “Yes?” 

“Well, what a dream team,” he chuckled. “What is the plan?” 

“First two kills, at random. After the first report, we will make a graveyard,” she said. “Honestly, that is going to be quick and funny.” 

“Sounds good. Where are you now?” he asked. 

She looked at the game and then at a map. “I am in admin, pretending to fail card swipe. I will turn off the lights once someone enters and then vent.” 

“I see Sam!”

“Kill him,” she encouraged him and turned off the lights. Vision came into the admin alone. 

They both took their opportunity and killed both people. Y/N vented into the cafeteria and went to weapons and Bucky quickly went into the comms, pretending to do a task. A few moments later, Sam’s body was reported. 

Natasha: Where is the body?

Wanda: Between O2 and shields. I think that is shields. 

Steve: Any suspicions? 

Y/N: I was passing by the cafeteria from medbay. When the lights were off, no one was around me. 

Tony: Bruce and I were in the reactor, doing the Simon says a thing. And I will fucking kill you for the report because now I have to do it again. 

Clint: Barnes, where were you? 

Bucky: On my way to storage. Did my quick task in coms. 

Bruce: So, no one is suspicious? 

Natasha: Honestly, we can skip. There are still eight of us. 

They all agreed and skipped voting. No one was ejected. When Y/N muted her mic, she went back to the call she had with Bucky. They both were laughing about the situation. “It’s a graveyard time.” 

“Where should we do it?” Bucky asked. 

“Reactor. After the first two kills, we will call the O2. During it, someone will come, searching for a body.” 

They both ran together into the reactor. Wanda was following them. She was about to become their first victim. After they arrived at the reactor, Bruce was also there, working on his Simon says. Their kill cooldown was almost at the end. 

“Come on, Buck, now!” 

Simultaneously, they killed Bruce and Wanda. Y/N waited almost ten seconds and called the O2 as she mentioned. Bucky quickly closed the doors around them, to slow them down. Their kill cooldown took thirty seconds and they needed time. 

The O2 was called off. They noticed the door around them opening and Tony was the first one approaching them. He reached the reactor and Bucky killed him. “One more and we win.”

“We have to hope someone else will come, otherwise they will call the button,” she explained. 

They were lucky. Steve and Natasha were on their way. Y/N quickly approached them and killed Steve. With that kill, the game was over and the impostors, Y/N and Bucky, won. 

Clint: What the fuck?

Natasha: How did you do that? 

Tony: They did a graveyard! 

Sam: Fuck you, Barnes, for killing me.

Bucky: It was my pleasure. 

Y/N: Oh my god, this was hilarious. Oh, my favourite round of all we played today. 

Bucky: Same. 

Tony: Want another game? 

Y/N: No, I want to take a break and make something to eat. We have been playing for hours. Let’s play tomorrow. 

Natasha: You are right. I need to take a nap after this. 

Steve: It’s almost seven. 

Natasha: My nap will take until tomorrow morning. 

Y/N’s phone beeped. She looked at the screen again. There was a text from the other impostor. Can I come over and watch a movie with you? It made her smile. 

Only if it involves the good popcorn you make and some kisses - she replied. They had been dating for over a month and things were going great. The team had their suspicions but they had decided not to meddle in their private life. Steve was happy and Tony was overly protective of Y/N but didn’t say a word. 

Y/N: I have to go. I am going to watch a movie. 

Clint: Oh yeah? Can I join? 

Y/N: No, I would like to enjoy it alone. 

Nat: Huh, that’s sus. 

Y/N: What is sus about it? 

Nat: Watching a movie, alone. Why would you want to watch it alone? 

Y/N: Because no one is making stupid comments during the movie I want to watch. 

Tony: Red, sus. 

Y/N: Alright, bye-bye friends. 

She ended the call and put her laptop on the night table. Rolling her eyes, she made her bed and went to the bathroom. Bucky would come any minute and she wanted to set the place. 

Who would have known this game would bring the whole team together? 

[chaoticneutralwriter]

Star-Crossed

“   A phrase describing a pair of lovers whose relationship is often thwarted by outside forces. The term encompasses other meanings, but originally means the pairing is being “thwarted by a malign star” or that the stars are working against the relationship.  ”

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: supernatural, romance, fluff, angst, comedy, slow-burn

word count: 12.9k (once again, back in that 12k territory i didn’t mean for this)

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

Continuation of Fifth Act: Diligence

A/N: WOW, SO I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. THIS WAS HARD BUT I DID IT. WOW. I should’ve known it would take long T^T but here it is finally!! Thank you all so much for your support once again!! <3 I hope this chapter won’t disappoint! T^T

@cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​ @moments-of-melancholy @xclo02 @cherub-kookie @gottadreamitallaway​

Your mind goes completely blank for what felt like a good ten minutes, reacting purely out of the baser, instinctive need to survive – body thrashing wildly like an antelope fighting to get out of a lion’s hold, kicking and screaming. It’s not until you sink your teeth into the soft flesh of your attacker’s hand are you finally released along with a pained shout of surprise.

“Bloody HELL poppet that fucking HURT!”

The force in which you were flung sends you toppling over onto the pavement, unceremoniously landing on your side. Your own groans of pain join in with the male nursing his injured palm and getting over your heart attack, you’re finally able to process who it is; raven hair that falls in long waves, tall, muscular figure and decked out from head to toe in black, complete with combat boots. You sit up if only to yell indignantly, “Well maybe you shouldn’t go around jumping people out of nowhere like that you weirdo!”

Jungkook straightens himself up from being bent over, giving his hand one last massage before he shoots you with a pointed look, “Well I’m not the one who was running around in the open like a headless chicken while an entity from Hell was out trying to kill you.”

His retort makes your mind screech to a halt, “…What?”

At your wide, clueless doe-eyed look, Jungkook’s mouth snaps shut just as he was about berate you some more. Turning his head away, he takes a deep breath in before exhaling through his nose, mussing his dark locks a bit with a furrowed brow as if he’s deep in thought. Then he turns back to you, offering a hand and gestures for you to take it.

“C'mon get up, let’s go somewhere else to talk.”

Your eyes dart from his proffered hand to his obsidian eyes, face set into a neutral expression but you already understand that this is of serious matters. Not like you’re going to refuse him anyways, Jungkook appearing like this was the saving grace you wanted – the key to potentially all of your answers.

So you reach up, enough to clasp your own hand into his larger ones and as soon as he gets a good grip, you’re being tugged by more than the immense strength of a demon; your stomach unintentionally does a flip at the sensation, a familiar whirlwind of colours and images passing by too quickly to be discerned before they abruptly stop altogether and you’re on wobbly knees again from the aftermath.

“Jungkook I swear….” You seethed in disdain, even though you’re holding onto his hand like it’s your lifeline. And again, you hear his snickering that he always seems to fail at hiding. At least this time around, it doesn’t last as long.

“You can’t deny me my simple joys in life. Besides, what’s a little apparating in comparison to nearly dying at the hands of another dark creature, am I right?” He jabs, pulling you until you’re standing upright by yourself and then walking off. It’s only then that you notice you’re back on the garden rooftop again, the stretch of the city skyline before you as you’re surrounded by the shrubberies and wispy grass. This time however, the garden’s greens have significantly yellowed in most places and what little floral that was here had begun to wilt, their  blooming cycle coming to an end. You wonder briefly if the rain fall just now would be enough to help revitalize the place. The dark rain clouds from before have since dissolved and migrated further south, away from the city to shower onto some other area, yet the sun still struggles to peek through the denseness they leave behind, the skies remaining a gloomy overcast.

“About that,” You start, following after Jungkook’s long strides down the gravel path. “what do you mean by ‘another dark creature’? As far as I know, I only know two demons and I swear I haven’t done anything to offend any other spawn of satan.”

Jungkook shoots a disbelieving look over his shoulder, actually stops in his tracks so that you can get the full impact of it; arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, head cocked and lips pressed into a hard line. He screams, ’oh really?’ without having to say it.

“You know poppet, sometimes I think you’re either really ballsy, or just plain stupid. But I do suppose that’s what makes you entertaining to watch.” Scoffing, he mutters as if to himself with a shake of his head, “Maybe you two really are meant for each other.”

You don’t get a chance to ask what he meant by that, cutting you off the same time he continues walking again, forcing you to tail after him. “Anyways, it’s just what it sounds like; you went and gotten yourself a new 'friend’ when you decided it was a smart idea to try your hands at summoning a demon for the first time.”

Your steps falter, suddenly feeling lightheaded at the shock overtaking you, “W-Wait – that…I thought it didn’t work…I mean…I didn’t see anything when I was done?”

“Or so you thought. You might not have gotten the demon you wanted but it did the job getting some other lesser creature of darkness for you.”

A chill runs down your spine unintentionally at the thought, memories flitting back to those near misses, now with some twisted, shadowy monster being the cause, lurking around each corner you had turned, stalking and waiting for that perfect moment to kill you off. You had stepped so close to death’s grasp, all because you had so blindly messed with something you had absolutely no understanding of. If it weren’t for Jimin showing up…. You shake away the thought, not wanting to even think about it but….

“So then how did….Jimin and you find me? Is that why you’re here?”

He turns his head, a lopsided smile pulling at his mouth. “Yeah, when you’re a 'spawn of satan’ it’s kind of hard to miss that ominous amount of dark energy that came with the summoning. I’m surprised that you didn’t attract more than just three in a ten kilometre radius so when you think about it, you got what you wanted – congrats.”

In hindsight, Jungkook is right; though it was unconventional, you did indeed manage to somehow get Jimin to show himself finally after days of being missing. But, successful as it is, by no means had it been the way you wanted and thus, the praise came out too back-handed for it to feel anything remotely celebratory.

“And that’s the curious thing,” Abruptly, Jungkook stops walking and it nearly has you crashing into him. Luckily, you catch yourself in time, at the expense of stepping on your toes and nearly falling back on your ass again.

“Your little handy work might’ve been amateurish at most, but… evidently that’s quite some potent things you used there.” He pauses for a second, and then he’s facing you, staring down from his full height that makes you feel infinitely much smaller than you should as he almost accusingly says with narrowed eyes, “Including that thing in your pocket.”

You’re left blinking, pupils shifting left and right like you’re a criminal caught in the act for a good minute before you give yourself a pat down, instinctively going to your pants pocket, feeling nothing but then realizing your tote bag is still clinging onto your shoulder, barely holding on by one strap. You’re actually in disbelief that it made it this far. Grabbing a hold of it, you dig through until you pull out the one possession that the demon could possibly be talking about.

The little black velvet pouch remains unassuming as the day you had received it, so you had thought nothing when you opened it again, expecting to see the same stone crystal inside. To your utter shock however, the stone falls out in broken pieces, chunks split in half as if you had taken a hammer and smashed it. Along with that, the once whole stone had visibly lost its lustre, the natural glow dulled into something much more clouded and opaque. You don’t know what had caused this, racking your brain for an explanation; perhaps this was the only damage resulted from the whole accident fiasco you went through, but considering the forces at work here, you won’t necessarily rule out any other more supernatural possibilities.

“Where did you get that?”

Your confirmation is given by Jungkook’s question, his eyes trained on the remnants of the crystal and tone tinged too much on being apprehensive and wary that you can’t simply brush it off as overthinking this time.

Carefully, you reply, “….From the shop that I got all the other things from. Why?”

He goes eerily quiet, dark brows furrowing into a troubled look that mars his youthful face, and he chews his lips in deep thought. Just when you think he would say something, he schools his face once again, turning away.

“Nothing.”

Your face contorts into a bewildered expression because that sure doesn’t sound like nothing. But you’re not here for that. Huffing through your nose, you stuff the broken stone back into your bag, hand shooting out to grab Jungkook’s wrist to stop him from walking off.

“Look, I know you know something is wrong with Jimin and I wouldn’t have done what I did if he just told me what’s going on. He’s been gone for….I don’t know how many days now, wouldn’t even answer any of my texts or calls, but then still manage to show up when I’m in serious danger yet the first thing he does when he sees me is run?” You let go when you see Jungkook’s attention is back on you except the way he’s hiding any sort of emotion right now is just reigniting the same frustration and anxiety you’ve had bottled up for so long, too long.

Jaw clenching, your gaze hardens as you take in a fortifying breath if only as a last ditch effort to not explode right then and there.

“I need you to tell me everything. No more secrets.”

The words still come out with barely restrained anger.

Jungkook remains unfazed, eyes unwavering as he studies you. He sees the fiery temper waiting to be unleashed through the burning of your irises on him, the strain in which you clench your hands into fists until the whites appear in your knuckles, a tremor that rumbles through you like a volcano just before it erupts – no doubt anyone who valued their well-being would know best to avoid being on the receiving end of your wrath now that it has reached such a peak (he almost feels sorry for Jimin, almost). But amongst the flames, he sees the fan that stokes it; desperation, fear, and….

His lips twitch, bemused.

Jungkook finds you very commendable, maybe even to a fault and perhaps it’s why with one last sigh, he relents.

“All right, relax – don’t bite the hand that’s going to feed you.”

Your heart picks up in pace, anticipation pulsing through you in tandem as you brace yourself. Silently, Jungkook gestures with his chin for you to follow him over to the open space and towards the bench under the tree.

“Has Jimin ever told you how he ended up being your guardian before?” Jungkook asks mid-stride, hands shoved into his pockets casually. His sudden question pulls you away from burning a hole into the back of his head.

“Uh….Maybe once? Something about trying to worm his way out of doing dirty grunt work in the lowest levels of hell after causing trouble.”

“Did he say what he did?”

“…Only that it was quote, 'complicated’.” You respond after some thought. Your answer elicits a snort from the demon in front of you, along with some rueful muttering. Before you can ask, you both have reached the tree and the sight of it surprises you. The branches were now covered fully in bright emerald green leaves, providing the proper amount of shade to the bench that situated below it compared to the first time you’ve seen it but more than that, its even sprouted fruits. Round in shape and about the size of your palm, its colour grades from a yellow-green into rosy reds along the skin and its then you realize they were apples.

Jungkook stops just underneath the tree, side stepping in order to clear a path for you to the bench.

“Get comfortable poppet, it’s a bit of a story.”

Tentatively, you make your way over to sit down, gaze never leaving Jungkook’s and evidently the tension is still running high for you – you’re quite literally sitting on the very edge of your seat. Seeing as how that’s as comfortable as you’re going to get, Jungkook releases another deep sigh, rolling his neck as he begins a tale he loathed to repeat.

“That 'complicated’ thing that your guardian did? That was tempting an actual guardian angel to fall from grace.”

The words took a minute to process for you, not knowing what to expect but when they do, the impact hits you head on like a speeding train. For a split second, you’re trapped in a frozen world that’s numbed you of all your senses; you’re left stunned, speechless, jaw actually dropping and you wonder if you’re breathing still. After your mind was done tripping over on itself do you manage to stutter, “He – I mean how….?”

Jungkook crosses his arms, leaning back on the trunk of the tree as a far off look takes over his gaze.

“Trust me when I say if you knew Jimin like I did, you wouldn’t be half as surprised as you are that he would manage to do something like this. Heaven is only blissful to those who are complacent and live by their rules. There’s no room for doubts because to doubt is to question in your beliefs, and in turn, His beliefs which to angels is blasphemy. And angels, above all, are representatives of that. It is their duty to carry out His will, to be the shepherd to guide the lost sheeps because only you can lead them to salvation, even the most wayward ones; for His love is always gracious, accepting and forgiving. They’re really good at selling that righteous fantasy – makes you feel all high and mighty.”

He exhales deeply, the barest hints of an underlying bitterness carries out with the breath, made more obvious when he says, “But even that in itself was a test of faith. How cruel is it to tell you that your sole purpose is to protect and guide a soul that’s supposedly so precious when they prove to you time and time again to be so undeserving of that love? It makes you start to question a lot of things, like whether all your effort is worth it in the end or….” A sharp inhale. “Maybe you’re simply not good enough.”

You listen quietly, not wanting to interrupt Jungkook but immersed in your own thoughts too. Even though you’re not terribly religious, you’re still somewhat familiar with the concepts. So long as you live your life honestly, commit no sins and do no wrong unto others, you’re more  likely not to end up going to hell and be tortured for all eternity. And even if you do, you have the chance to repent and thus be forgiven.

Of course, people twist the words they read to suit their own philosophies but in the end, there’s still that clear line between evil and good. It’s all….very black and white to you. So it should be no surprise to you that beings who serve God would have that followed to a tee, only there’s no room for second-guessing or evidently, second-chances.

You see the unfairness in that; to be expected as someone who’s so devout and pious yet not be given that same mercy as humans.

You think….it’s quite sad.

“Nevertheless, those are thoughts no angel should have. Not unless you want to attract the attention of a demon.” He sneaks a glance at you and you catch the mischievous twinkle peering through the long bangs before he averts his eyes to the horizon in front of him again. “And that’s where your little guard dog comes in.”

You don’t deny the way you perk up a little more at that, pulled from your previously more sombre reveries.

“'Jimin’….He was everything you humans thought demons would be – conniving, heartless, and selfish creatures who takes pleasure in causing misery and suffering on others while indulging in all forms of obscenities as a pass time. He, like many demons, saw the world as his little sandbox and everyone in it his own personal plaything; doesn’t bat an eye to even the most heinous of crimes.”

You find the comparison jarring when you think of the demon you know now as being the very same one who did all those morally skewed things. It’s like talking about two different beings altogether. But the more you ruminate on it, the more you saw the plausibility; for one, Jimin is a demon, his entire existence is to be the devil’s advocate so how can you, a human no less, judge him for doing his job? And secondly, Jimin always did have that cockiness about him, like he knows he’s better than everyone else and he’s not afraid to let everyone know they’re beneath him – you included. It was very prominent when you first met, but now it’s tamed to a cheeky sassiness he uses to lightly tease you with (an impressive feat if you’re going to be honest; safe to say that was quite the learning curve for both of you).

However, it just proves to you that even someone like him could change for the better.

“But unlike many demons, Jimin was…remarkably ambitious, uncharacteristically so because while others are satisfied with living that otherwise lawless, cesspit lifestyle, he grew bored of the monotony – had a need to conquer new challenges, push boundaries, always a hunger for more. And it worked in his favour too.” He pauses to let out a short scoff, a humourless chortle under his breath as his voice lowers to an almost melancholic tone. “Maybe that’s what made him so dangerous; being so good at finding even your most darkest secrets and enticing you with sweet words that it makes it hard for anyone to resist.”

Again, there was something in the way Jungkook is telling you all this, the way his voice would inflect with a deep-rooted emotion without meaning to and you can’t shake off this feeling. It’s almost like….he’s recounting, reliving memories from a different time.

Dark eyes slide to yours and you find yourself locked in an endless abyss, one that you’ve seen before in Jimin’s – swimming behind centuries worth of history, you’ll catch glimpses of a long lifetime of loneliness and bitter sorrow that are much too alien to belong on such youthful faces. “So imagine how easy it was to get to a guardian angel who deep down, knew he wasn’t cut out for the job anyways.”

…. And suddenly there’s meaning to the familiarity in which he speaks of everything; of Heaven, of angels, of this guardian angel….

Cocking his head, Jungkook smiles at you but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “Don’t start crying for me now poppet, you should save those tears for something more worthwhile.”

You hadn’t even realized the way you were staring, practically gaping at him with unadulterated shock. Overwhelmed is an understatement to what your mind is going through; so many thoughts racing a mile a minute yet feeling completely empty of any at the same time. You wouldn’t have imagined that this was Jungkook’s story.

At your prolonged silence, he tears his gaze away from you, not wanting to admit how he can’t stand seeing the sad look you’re giving him any longer. Pity was not necessary here.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t regret it. Jimin might’ve done it out of boredom and as his way to fulfill his self-gratification but it was the first time in so long that I felt like someone was listening to me and didn’t judge me right away for my 'impure’ thoughts.”

You can almost hear him rolling his eyes as he says that.

“Before him, I really thought that I was going to live a miserable life being stuck watching over this poor excuse of a human being who does nothing but just….rot away; self-entitled, greedy, stepping on others for their own selfish gains, never to redeem themselves in the eyes of God. Jimin understood me –  offered me an out, something I didn’t have when I was made into a guardian angel and never thought I would get even afterwards.”

“So I took it; in exchange for one insignificant soul, I got my freedom.” Jungkook tilts his head upwards, as if he means to burn a hole right through the clouds themselves, or maybe the place that lies far beyond them. Instead, he reaches out to pluck a shiny red apple from its branch, one of the few you think that are early to ripe. “But to willingly hand over a soul to a demon under your watch was an unspeakable act, one of the surest ways to get you thrown out those golden gates.”

He tosses the fruit up in the air once, catching it smoothly and shooting you a roguish grin. The way his lips curl back gives you a more full view of his canines – you swear they look a lot more sharper than what they were supposed to be on his human visage.

“And yes, it did hurt like a bitch when I fell from Heaven, in case you wanted to know.”

A throaty giggle comes out unintentionally along with the huff of air you release through your nose, one which you try to cover up by clearing your throat.

That was a good reference.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, actually looks proud of the jab he made before his grin starts to slip away, expression turning into something a little more morose as his eyes drift to the apple in his hand.

“The rest was pretty much history; as punishment, Jimin was made to take responsibilities for intervening with the duties of a guardian angel – quite lenient I might add – and once he gets his stamp of approval, he would go back and take me under his wing.”  

“So imagine my surprise….” The grip on the apple tightens a fraction, the words are enunciated slowly, deliberately, like its taking all of his self-control to not completely crush it. You would’ve been convinced he was doing a pretty good job, if it weren’t for the flickers of a deep golden glow that begins to burn behind his once onyx irises and the air around him resonates with a charged energy that had goosebumps appearing on your arms. “When half-way through, he asks me if there was a way for demons to become a guardian angel.”

Right before your eyes, the red apple starts to decompose as if it were in a time-lapse, browning and shrivelling in on itself until all that’s left is a dried husk in Jungkook’s hand. You swear you feel the colour drain from your face along with it, a cold sweat breaking out at the back of your neck. Unsparing of the way your mind is hanging by a thread, the demon turns so that you see the twisted smile stretching across thin lips and he sneers, “The irony of it all, am I right?”

You don’t answer because you physically can’t. It’s like your body is going into shock, eyes unfocused and head spinning to the point where you’re thankful that you’re actually sitting or else you think you might tip over and pass out. Your heart is pounding rapidly in your chest, each beat hammering against your ribcage. You try to take in deep breaths to calm yourself but every inhale and exhale comes out short and shaky, every swallow leaving your throat drier.

“Deny it all you want poppet, but this is the truth you wanted – your little guardian demon wants to become a guardian angel.” You wouldn��t have realized you were shaking your head to yourself if Jungkook hadn’t spoken up, voice too nonchalant after dropping a bomb like that on you. He’s dusting his hands off on his sweatpants, picking and inspecting his nails now that the remains of the rotten apple had dropped onto the ground beneath him. By that time, you finally begin to stumble through your words, more or less thinking aloud in hopes of trying to make sense of this extreme turn of events.

“T-That’s….that can’t be, I don’t –  why would he do that?”

Jungkook’s gaze whips to you with a quickness, the gold of topaz so piercing that it startles you and just when you thought you could be any less prepared at receiving bombshell news, Jungkook proves you wrong by hitting you with another one more devastating than the last.

“Do you really not know?” He asks, the question nothing more than a hushed tone filled with disbelief, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s you. You’re the reason.”

You.

The reason is you.

It’s like you’re hit by a physical blow that knocks the wind out of you and you brace your hands on your knees, letting out a sharp exhale. All of your questions are getting answered yet the answers you get are only producing more questions; questions that you don’t even know if you want answers to because you’re terrified of what you might hear. You don’t know if you can take much more of it. But you’ve made it so far. With this, you’ve come closer than ever before to finding Jimin and be able to help him. It’s a huge jump than what you had thought possible in accomplishing. So you take a deep breath in, mustering all of your courage to continue forward.

“Is it even possible?” Your voice comes out in a quiver, hoarse as you try to push past the lump that’s formed in your throat, your confidence left much to be desired. Jungkook offers you a half-shrug.

“It’s the same way I became a guardian angel myself once upon a time ago, only you’re more likely to die attempting it as a demon; as they say, it’s easier to fall than it is to redeem yourself.”

That has you jumping to your feet, so fast that the blood rushes to your head and you momentarily feel lightheaded but you’re more alarmed by what Jungkook had informed you.

“That’s just insane, he can’t – I can’t let him do this!”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, poppet.” Jungkook shakes his head firmly, arms crossing and halting any sort of protests that were about to spill from your mouth. “He’s already evoked the process, and now it’s only a matter of time before he fully succumbs to its effects.”

“Wait, what do you mean…?” You ask, full of apprehension, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s.

“Becoming a guardian angel involves being imbued with holy magic over a period of time; the process is slow, but otherwise painless….if you’re talking about an ordinary soul that is.” He pushes himself off of the tree to stroll forward a few steps, “With a demon? Even I don’t know what will happen to him. As you can imagine, to have both holy magic and demonic powers inhabiting one body is dangerous because they’re two conflicting forces; it leaves you unstable and vulnerable until one rejects the other, or your body gives out and you simply perish.”

A horrified gasp rushes past your dry lips, and you’re once again short of breath as an acute surge of panic overtakes your entire body. You’re moving before you realize what you’re doing, latching onto Jungkook’s sleeves with trembling hands like you’re afraid at any moment, he would vanish and abandon you to suffer this cruel twist of fate. Jungkook stumbles back, caught off guard by the strength of your grip, nails digging into his arms and how frantic you look – wide eyed and pupils shaking.

“Where is he?! I need to find him! Tell me where he is Jungkook!”

His larger hands grab ahold of your wrists to stop you jostling him for answers. “I don’t know that poppet. And even if I do, what does it matter? He’s doing this so he can be with you. Is this not something you wanted?”

Your eyes shut in anguish, head lowering as you can only muster a weak shake. “Not like this…” Never like this…

You hear a soft scoff from above you, and you don’t notice the way Jungkook has yet to let you go nor the way he can’t seem to bear looking at you, gaze set out on the horizon in front of him, the unnatural golden glow long since receded as he thinks bitterly to himself, 'That makes the two of us.’

He doesn’t want to admit that the sight of you like this, devastated and conflicted at what you had learned, stirs up his own complex cocktail of emotions – things he has kept buried in the recesses of his mind. When Jungkook had told Jimin of how he could possibly become a guardian angel, he felt like he had owed him some kind of debt, something to repay for allowing him to break free of his own miserable life – only to be the one who leads someone else back to the same place he was in. Maybe this is why he still hasn’t let go of how resentful he is of Jimin’s choice.

Jimin was a fool – a fool in love. Does he truly understand the consequences of what entails afterwards? He thought Jimin would see just how folly it is to pursue this pipe dream, give up  the longer he’s subjected to the gruelling effects of completing the acts but Jimin is not Jimin without that stubborn, ambitious streak.

Worse of all, Jungkook resented himself too because deep down, he dares to envy Jimin for his tenacity, for finding a purpose in a life he saw no worth in and to have someone who is willing to fight for him as much as he is for them.

Maybe through this odd sense of kinship with you….. this is the closure he needed.

It takes a few good minutes for you to gather yourself again, minutes of holding yourself back from breaking down completely because you can’t afford to, not now. Not when its suddenly a matter of life or death. The cogs are turning double time in an effort to come up with something, anything to fix this. And that’s when –

“What if there was another way?”

Jungkook pauses to look at you before letting out a short incredulous laugh at the very idea, “Don’t be ridiculous poppet, as if Heaven – “

“I’m saying what if there was another way Jimin can stay without becoming a guardian angel?” You cut him off and the brief moment of silent questioning allows you to blurt out perhaps the second craziest thing you’ve thought of in your life, “What if I give my soul to him?”

Another long silence drags on, only because Jungkook is practically gaping at you like a fish now; jaw dropped, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen before. You both spend minutes that feel like an eternity just standing there, staring at each other as if to see who would break away first. It makes your nervously racing heart seem ten times louder in your ears and you grow self-conscious. Just when you go to explain yourself, defend your case, Jungkook lets out a wheezing laugh. At first they were short and breathy sounds but as they continue, the volume grows until it’s a full blown cackle as does the almost crazed grin on the demon’s face.

You’re frozen in your spot at the sight, even when Jungkook steps back from you to turn away and pace around, hands on his hips and occasionally running through his hair. You hear him choke out jumbled words to himself, phrases that start but drown out by more incredulous bouts of laughing. When it seems he’s finally able to calm himself, Jungkook whirls back around, eyes locking onto you intensely. “You’re serious? You’re actually serious?”

You sputter at the sudden accusation, “Wh – Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because it’s crazy?” Jungkook shoots back, “You do know that most of the time when someone wants to give up their soul to a demon it never ends well – and I’m saying this from one demon to a mortal.”

“Well I imagine if that wasn’t the case then more people would do it right?” You scowl, rolling your eyes. “And besides, it’s not like I haven’t thought about doing it before this….”

Jungkook reels a bit again at the additional confession, scoffing lightly. You can see the thoughts play out across his face as his gaze fixates on a point past the buildings and trees surrounding you and after seemingly reaching a conclusion, you see him subtly shake his head.

“At most, you might be able to remain bound to him.”

“That’s more than enough.” You say, “He shouldn’t have to risk his life for me like this, not when he’s done so much already.”

“Heavy emphasis on the might poppet.” The tall demon holds up a hand as if it means to stop you from flying off to tear the whole city apart to find Jimin in this instance (which, he’s not wrong given if you had that ability). “And even if you do, I can’t guarantee what will happen to Jimin, whether this will stop the process or not.”

“Then help me find him Jungkook.”

He groans, throwing his head back like a child who’s been asked to wash the dishes and you’re flabbergasted at the response.

“You’re really going to leave your friend to die just like that?” You ask aghast.

“It was his choice.” Jungkook replies apathetically. “I warned him that if he were to go through with it, I won’t be able to help him with what would happen afterwards and he did it anyways. Now it’s out of my hands and I’m starting to regret saying anything because of the headache this is causing me.”

“All the more reason!” The rush of urgency threatens to overwhelm you as you step towards Jungkook, “We won’t know if this will work unless I try!”

Yet still, he remains unmoving and it only serves to freak you out even more. It’s like you can already see this last chance slipping away, right in front of you the more Jungkook becomes reluctant.

“This is because of me isn’t it? So let me fix it.” You beg, grabbing ahold of him. “Please Jungkook, this is the last thing I need from you.”

The weight of your pleas hang heavily in the air around you, almost to the point where you felt suffocated yourself. You hate how everything is riding on whether Jungkook would agree to help or not, is literally what would make or break this. You watch with bated breath, hyper-focused on every small movement Jungkook makes; the way he breaks away from your gaze to look off into the distance, jawline tensing as he clenches them and a deep furrow pinching his brows.

Jungkook watches with unseeing eyes the way the first rays of the setting sun breaks through, the streaks of orange so vibrant that they cut through like a knife and set aflame the dense clouds surrounding them. More and more the sky parts to reveal this fiery blaze until the light is burning into his eyes, even long after he eventually slips them shut.

There’s no doubt that once Jimin gets wind of this, he’ll miraculously summon enough strength to slam him through all seven levels of hell and then some. He’s already overstepped by even telling you what Jimin’s really been up to but it’s not his damn fault that the elder demon really dropped the ball on this one.

… Agh fuck it, he’s already in deep now, so what’s a little more help gonna do? Especially when the blazing desperation in your eyes currently rivals that of the departing sun, still clinging onto the last few minutes it has left before the oncoming night swallows it whole. It’s in the last bit of dying light that Jungkook lets out one long, drawn out sigh through his nose and you see him turning back to face you, eyes softly aglow once more and a meaningful look. You gulp, trying hard not to make it so obvious on how nervous you’re feeling but who were you trying to fool? At this point, you’re ready to drop down on your knees and grovel.

You’re actually a split second away from doing that when Jungkook rolls his head back and with another begrudging sigh, so heavy that his shoulders slump inward, says, “Alright fine! I’ll try to track him down.”

-

Jungkook settles by telling himself the only reason why he agreed to do this tedious task is because: 1) He’d already come this far in telling you basically everything that’s been going on with your guardian demon, might as well go the full nine-yards, 2) your daring plan of action and commitment was something that undoubtedly piqued his interest once more, enticed him into new territories of what-ifs. Again, commendable, he thinks frustratingly so; it’s like a force of its own getting him to root for you. As well, what kind of demon would he be if he didn’t play the part of being the shoulder devil that eggs you on to do stupid, reckless things?

And 3) ultimately, this isn’t his mess so however way it ends is none of his business and though yes he’s helping you track down your missing demon, he doesn’t have any control on what you intend to do after confronting Jimin. He’s essentially just the messenger, and once he’s done with this ’last favour’, he can dust his hands off and continue on his merry way.

As entertaining as this all had been, you had proven to be more of handful than he had imagined. His first impressions of you was that of a strange human who wasn’t totally obsessed with the idea that a demon had decided to take on the appearance of her favourite idol. In fact, you had even seemed highly unamused by it. But you had rolled with the punches and made do with your equally strange circumstance.

And then things took a turn for the stranger; the two of you end up developing an unlikely friendship but more than that, it bloomed into something more. That was when Jungkook had dropped his metaphorical popcorn. The thought is still unfathomable because…what kind of demon falls in love with a human?! And on top of that, what kind of human falls in love with a demon?! That’s just something someone who’s had a few too many screws loose in their head would do and neither you nor Jimin had strike him as one such person.

Apparently, he’s sorely mistaken.

As it turns out, both of your knuckle-headedness knows no bounds, having expected most of it to come from Jimin (given his track record) but you’ve proven yourself to be in equal competition with him, not one to be left out.

If he had thought you were reckless with trying to do a demon summoning ritual on your own before, you’ve blown his expectations out of the water (once again) by declaring you would willingly give up your soul to a demon – in order to save him no less! What an absolute mad lass!

He lets out a snort, kicking at the remnants of your handy work, finding himself back at the scene of the crime in search for a lead. Initially, Jungkook had arrived to the spot out of curiousity on what was causing such a concentration of dark energy to appear and after poking around, had found traces of your aura still lingering about – that was how he had managed to eventually find you. The discovery however made him do a major double-take; for one, not having expecting you of all people to be the cause of this supernatural phenomena but most importantly, how you even managed to come into possession of the materials to make it happen.

That was perhaps the most troubling bit Jungkook finds about this conundrum.

Not just anyone can get their hands on some of the things required to do a summoning ritual, let alone anything remotely authentic. People just kind of fill in the blanks on what they think they need but somehow you almost end up getting it down pat.

This ’shop’ you supposedly went to apparently has the good shit.

And that’s not all.

Along with the ingredients to a demon summoning ritual, you had also walked out of there with something he had thought he would never see in his new lifetime again.

Angelus Tactus.

Or better known as Angel’s Touch – a stone made of pure starlight, said to be plucked from the Heaven’s themselves which imbued them with magical properties that offer protection from much more malicious entities and energies.

So by every means, it was not something some little shop just has lying around as a trinket for sale no matter how niche they supposedly are.

Jungkook unconsciously gnaws at his bottom lip, mulling over this tidbit of information. None of this sits well with him and he had half the mind to hunt down the identity of the shop owner  himself, if only to satisfy his curiousities.

….No, he shouldn’t. If he does then he’s only digging his own grave instead of getting out of it like he’s supposed to be doing right now.

With a shake of his head, he banishes the thought (…for now) to focus back on his surroundings. Eyes scanning, Jungkook notices that the rain had washed away what remains of the chalk pentagram that was etched into the asphalt and whatever dried herbs or salt left over has sunken into the soil where they have been pushed. They soak up the natural energy that’s provided by the earth, enough to give off a low pulse. It’s very weak but as he carefully steps around, it’s enough for him to use in order to help him sift through and amplify other aura signatures that might’ve passed the area.

Yours and the creature you summoned were prominent, and given Jimin’s state of limbo, it takes a little bit of 'feeling’ around before he begins to pick up another faint trace of someone else’s. He closes his eyes, honing in on it and lets his feet guide him until he comes upon a spot where it emanates the strongest. He lets it wash over him, familiarizing it with his senses before his eyes slip open, the topaz glow taking over his irises.

Bingo.

-

Logically speaking, tracking down a demon would take some time, you figured maybe two or three days because demons are discreet creatures by nature; doesn’t help that the wanted demon in question most likely doesn’t want to be found either. So it makes perfect sense that your only option right now is to wait and use this time to go through exactly how you’re going to give your idiot guardian demon a piece of your mind.

Well, at least try to.

You’re a bit of mess right now, to put lightly. After Jungkook spilled the secret on basically everything and you begging him to find Jimin, swearing that this will be the last he’ll ever hear from you, you find yourself strapped into this Tower of Terror of emotions – going from one extreme to another in what feels like split second intervals. You’d arrived home feeling numb and exhausted, heading straight to the safe confines of your room to sit on your bed in darkness and total silence. You felt like a zombie in which your mind and body were not connected, simply breathing and staring off into nothingness.

There was a distinct tightness in your chest, suffocating in its weight that it has you struggle to properly breathe. You don’t know how long you remain like that, but after what felt like an eternity, the strongest desire to scream had overcome you. It’s a rather delayed reaction, you think, moments after you had snatched the closest pillow to you to let out your pent up anger into. You throw your bag violently in the direction of your closet for good measures, the resounding thud pacifying you slightly.

Heaving, you push away the fallen strands of hair out of your face, eyes squeezed shut. You feel your throat closing up in a tell-tale sign of angry tears but you stubbornly keep them at bay. You won’t cry for Jimin, as much as you want to. Though hurt, you’re also livid with what he’s done, is doing…

You shake your head to yourself; you still can’t process the fact that he’s so willingly risking his life for you like this, all at the chance to stay with you as your official guardian angel. But to also not tell you anything about it – just makes you think when would he tell you then? Or was he even planning to tell you at all? The thought of him quietly erasing himself from your life if things went wrong, with you knowing no better and him just….accepting that?

And assuming you would be okay?!

The audacity reignites the flames of your fury.

You’d fallen into a restless sleep in the early hours of the morning, or rather closed your eyes for a long period of time because you don’t think you actually slept. You had tossed and turned, too riled up for any sort of fitful rest. Before you knew it, pale morning light had seeped through your blinds.

Yet you continue to lay there in bed, still as drained as you were the day before, only you’d fallen into a pit of listlessness. The amount of strength you mustered up after a while was to grab your phone, remembering the shift you had later that day and though you hate to be that person, you know there’s no way you’ll be able to work through it. At least, not that day.

But much of your time passes that way, mulling on your thoughts over and over again until you’re giving yourself a headache, the same questions repeating like a broken record in your mind; when did it all start? How could you not have noticed any of this and for so long? How did you let it get this bad?

How long do you have now? Or are you too late?

It has you scrambling to bring forth memories, searching for any kind of answers lost in the past. You dissect each and every one of them, and more and more you begin to uncover the signs; a flicker of melancholy that slipped through before quickly being masked by indifference and teasing, feather-like touches, so light they made you think you’d dreamt it, and…

That night.

The biggest kicker of them all was that night. In a spectacular combination of Jimin’s deflective skills and your tendencies to not be confrontational, you had assumed that it was just as he suggested; some unfortunate, rotten timing on his part that he’d ran into something vicious – another demon, an angel, a hunter, a witch…

Who would’ve thought it was him going through the process of becoming a guardian angel.

Fuck, it all made so much more sense.

As all the puzzle pieces fall into place, it made you realize that the signs had been there all along, just hidden away so well by Jimin.

And every time, you hesitated, faltering on taking action when given the chance.

The regret of not having done more when you could’ve begins to grow inside you and soon, it’s what ate at you the most.

Waiting becomes tortuous. You’re going through the routine of living on autopilot, scatterbrained and anxiously watching for Jungkook to show up at any day, hour, minute, second with news that he’s found a lead. You’re hoping and actually praying to whatever God up there that would listen to give you this one chance to make things right.

So on edge you were that when you came home from what you think was the biggest struggle you had to getting through work to a cryptic message smeared across your mirror, like you’d walked straight into 'The Shining’, you nearly blacked out right then and there.

The yelp you let out was embarrassingly loud, enough to alert Jaehee who came rushing to you, stumbling with shoes half-off from surprising you with an afterwork dinner date. Amidst her frantic questioning and the blood pumping loudly in your ears from your heart that’s ready to bail on you, you come to the realization that while you saw the beginnings of your own paranormal activities movie, Jaehee only saw a plain, ordinary full-length mirror.

It took a lot of nervous laughing and some very poor half-ass excuses to eventually pry your friend off, ushering her out of your room with the promise of properly resting. Once you shut the door, you take deep breaths before turning to look at the offending message that’s ruined your mirror. Now that the instinctual fear wasn’t clouding your judgement, you see clearly that – thankfully – the substance staining the surface of the glass is not blood but something akin to black ink. As for the message itself, it simply states:

’The Whiskey Serpent,

Tomorrow. Midnight.

JK.’

A beat passes and when you fill in the blanks to give context for this obscure set of instructions, your eyes close in exasperation as you heavily inhale.

You’re going to strangle him.

-

Tomorrow midnight doesn’t come nearly as fast as you wanted it to and your body and mind seems to resent that fact by compromising your sleep (again) and making you feel so jittery you can barely stand still for five seconds. You leave your afternoon shift all nerves and with still too much time on your hands for your liking, even after doing a trial run to the appointed place with the directions you found. You find it easy enough. To no surprise, it’s located in the more luxurious part of the city’s districts, surrounded by sleek sky-rises that hosts either penthouse apartments or five star hotels, streets littered with more expensive cars than you’re used to seeing, upscale boutiques and of course, private lounges and clubs.

The Whiskey Serpent was amongst them, a minimalistic looking building with sleek, black granite stone cladding that gives off the slightest hints of sparkles in the bright sunlight, accented by its polished, dark cherry wood double doors and large, stainless steel handles stretching nearly top to bottom. Atop the entrance sits a metallic amber snake, rearing up and curling around the outline of a slender arm holding a crystal glass, jaws agape and fangs bearing as if ready to strike. It’s all people would need in order to know the name of this establishment.

It’s currently closed; opening hours start once the sun begins to set. So you flounder a bit, not knowing whether you should hang around at a cafe until you have to meet Jungkook or head home. Either way, you know you’re going to fail at any attempts of trying to be prepared for whatever Jungkook is going to say. Perhaps its with that in mind that you choose to go home – if you’re going to be stewing in your anticipation and nerves, you might as well do it in the comforts of your own room.

Your stewing consisted a lot of breathing exercises, fiddling around things on your desk and shelves, standing in one place waiting for a command like a Sim, and pacing. Lots of pacing.  You tried stress eating but realize you have no appetite for anything in such a state, a mild inconvenience you know will come back to haunt you later as dinner quickly comes and goes without you so much as consuming a single bite of anything.

As soon as the clock hits half past eleven, you jump on the opportunity to head out, no longer able to wait. You fire off a hasty text to Jaehee the same time you’re speeding to get your shoes on and you’re out the door in record timing. You’re breathless by the time you arrive, breaking out into a half-sprint in your haste. Catching your breath, your eyes take in the way the exterior of the lounge has been illuminated by the little well lights that beam upwards along the walls with a golden glow, now that the skies has darkened. The snake as well has been lit up with its own spotlight, giving it a menacing look as it seems to bore down on you, daring you to enter its domain.

You swallow thickly, squaring your shoulders and with an exhale, mutter to yourself, “Okay, let’s do this.”

Pulling open the doors, you’re greeted by a dimly lit waiting area; black marble floor, an upholstered seating bench on one side and a hostess desk perpendicular to it. Behind the desk was a beautiful dark stone and granite wall fountain, the water cascading down in a steady stream, shimmering against the rough edges as its lit by spotlights lining along the bottom and top and giving off an almost rippling effect. Fixed to the surface were brass vines that crawled from either side, intertwined amongst them were two large snakes that seem to undulate from where they are stuck to, their bodies subtly lifting higher in some places, one head tilted outwards more than the other, as if to give the illusion that they were alive and at any moment, would slither off the wall they were on.

You stand awkwardly, not sure how to approach the elegant looking hostess; a tall woman dressed sharply in an all black suit with hair tied up in a high ponytail, face painted immaculately with well-blended eyeshadows, complimentary lip colour and crisp liner. But you need to if you want to get into the lounge. You’re made painfully aware of how out of place you must look, no where near looking like the type of person to be visiting places like this and the fact makes you freeze up a little.

God, why did Jungkook have to pick a place that screams in your face that you’re poor? Why can’t he just meet you at a cafe or – ?!

“Hello miss? Can I help you with something?”

Your loathing inner ranting is interrupted by the woman behind the desk, who peers at you questioningly, long lashes fluttering as she blinks.

“Uhh…” You stutter, shifting nervously and hugging your bag closer to you in an attempt to comfort yourself before meekly replying, “I’m uhh – here to meet with someone…?”

“Oh,” She sounds surprised and you’re not offended by it. The woman begins to tap on the tablet she’s holding. “Do you a have a name for the reservation?”

You feel like your going to choke on air, mouth opening and closing like a fish as you scramble for an answer until –

“Don’t worry about it, Xenia. This one’s with me.” You jump at the sudden feeling of a large hand clamping down over one of your shoulder and the sound of a timbre voice above you. Whipping your head up, your face contorts into a scowl at seeing none other than Jungkook who, upon feeling your heated gaze on him, shoots you a side-eyed, shit-eating smirk, thick wavy bangs falling over one eye and giving him a wolfish appeal.

Immediately, memories of his little stunt with your mirror resurface and you hold up an accusing finger, scowl deepening further. “You – !!”

Xenia, the pretty hostess, recovers quickly, interrupting you as she smiles and holds out a hand towards the direction of the short hallway that must lead off to the actual lounge.

“Please, go right ahead then. Would you like me to have the usual ready for you?”

“Yes, please and thank you.” Jungkook waves casually, then you feel him nudge you forward and you have no choice but to go. He leads you to round the corner and you finally get to see that the lounge is just like the rest of the building; all dark colours, dimly lit and refined with a luxurious elegance that you’re both in awe and intimidated by.

Around the perimeters of the large room, there are alcoves with black leather sofas, decorated with lavish throw pillows and low tables, each booth separated by corinthian style columns outlined in gold that matches the designs running along the ceiling moulding while much of the middle space is taken up by velvet ornate chairs gathered around tables with tall cylindrical lamps emitting a soft warm glow to serve as lights. There wasn’t much in terms of decor, other than the sleek black grand piano situated in the farthest corner of the room, currently empty with no pianist.

You don’t see many people here, only a few couples interspersed in some of the booths and chairs and the occasional individuals having a quiet drink to themselves. Despite the abundant of open tables, Jungkook doesn’t lead you to any of them, instead directs you to the only other place of sitting which was a long bar taking up most of one side. He takes a seat in one of the bar stool and the bartender wordlessly places down two cozier, crystal glasses and a bottle onto the brown marble counter in front of him, the liquid inside a deep russet colour, before leaving.

“Are you going to keep standing there or are you gonna come sit?” Jungkook gestures to the empty seat beside him. His voice snaps you from your momentary gaping and you kiss your teeth in frustration, annoyed that you keep getting distracted.

“You have some explaining to do. What the hell were you thinking when you decided to vandalize my mirror like that?!” You hiss as you take your seat carefully, acutely self-conscious of not wanting to draw any attention to your presence here – silly considering there’s hardly anyone here.

Still, this is such a new place for you that you can’t help feeling like you’re in over your head being here. Sure you’ve been to a few bars and pubs but the places you go to don’t have mini crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and their liquor selection is equivalent to what you find in your local liquor and beer store; you don’t think you recognize any of the bottles lining the vast glass shelf in front of you.

Jungkook ignores you by choosing to down his glass in one shot and lets out a loud noise of satisfaction, smacking his lips.

“That’s some good shit.” He seems to say so more to himself.

“Jungkook.” You say with warning. The patience you would have had to humour him tonight was long gone, spent on the time waiting to hear any news from him.

“Don’t be so upset, I didn’t have any way to contact you. Plus, you were out with your friend so I highly doubt you would appreciate me just waltzing up to you with her there.” He pushes the extra glass of liquor towards you. “Also would be too suspicious because I don’t think you’re someone who knows that many good-looking people.”

Glaring, you push the glass back stubbornly, crossing your arm. “If you think I’m here to drink with you, then you’re wrong in inviting me out.”

The demon lets out a long breath, flipping his hair. “So serious….” You hear him mutter flippantly before he addresses you again. “Fine, fine…” He takes the bottle and pops the cork off, filling his glass generously. “It took a while, only because his signature aura was so convoluted given the state he’s in. So I lost his trail a couple of times.”

“But you found him right?” It comes out in one rushed breath. You’re leaning expectantly towards him and the pressure of your gaze is so heavy that it makes Jungkook shift a little. He clears his throat, taking a sip from his drink again and then goes digging into his pocket. From it, he produces a folded slip of paper, holding it between two fingers to show you before sliding it across the smooth marble towards your direction.

“Lucky you, he didn’t stray very far – turns out he’s got a place not far from here; one of those fancy new penthouse apartments.” You hear him scoffing in bemusement, “He can be on his death bed and the bastard still won’t let go of his expensive taste.”

The slip reveals an address when you unfold it, messily scrawled in blue ink. You stare at it, not believing that the whereabouts of Jimin is now sitting in the palm of your hand. It makes seeing him tangible again instead of the hopeful prayer you’ve been clinging onto for the past days. For once, you feel confident that you have a fighting chance now.

“….Thank you.” You whisper to Jungkook, clutching at the piece of paper, afraid that it would vanish at any moment. “You have no idea how much this means to me, I really owe you with this one.”

The sincerity and reverence in your voice catches Jungkook off guard, so much so that he doesn’t know what to do with himself for a short second, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he avoids meeting your eyes. He settles to grab a hold of his glass.

“Yeah, well you better 'cus I had my work cut out for me.” He mumbles around the rim before taking a hearty sip. You bite down a small smile, catching a glimpse of redness tinging the tips of his ears, made more noticeable thanks to having his hair pulled up into a bun. After swallowing his drink, Jungkook speaks up, shifting the topic back to you as he asks, “So what’s your plan?”

“I’m going to confront him.” You reply assertively.

“Like, right now?”

“Well, yes. At this point, I’m done waiting.”

The demon barks out a laugh, head thrown back at your sheer determination. He nods along, agreeing with you as he gestures to your still untouched glass.

“Then drink up poppet, you’re probably gonna need the extra boost.”

You eye the glass of expensive whiskey uncertainly, having wanted to keep a clear head when you see Jimin in order to get across everything you have pent up inside you but at the same time, you’re shaking with so much anxiety that you can barely think, let alone hope to articulate your feelings properly.

Maybe just a sip or two, you decide, reaching out to take the glass which seems to satisfy Jungkook. He holds his up in cheers, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

“To love, which conquers all.”

The groan slips out loudly and you bury your face in your hands, embarrassment taking over every part of your being. “Oh my God no….”

Jungkook’s cackling doesn’t help, much too deafening in the quiet atmosphere of the lounge that you just want to leave as soon as possible. You get in three sips before you can’t take the burning anymore and promptly ask for a glass of water.

-

Though it was just three sips, you feel the liquor coursing through your body, warming your veins with the liquid courage you need as you watch the numbers climb on the elevator. After making a quick exit from the lounge, Jungkook had so graciously offered to walk you to the high-rise apartment, getting you past security with ease (must be a demon charm thing) and leaving you at the mirrored elevators.

“As much as I would love to see you drag him through the dirt, it’s never a good idea to be caught in the crossfire of a lover’s quarrel.”

He’d said before walking off, throwing you a two fingered salute over his shoulder.

And now here you are, alone and with sweaty palms as the elevator finally chimes, letting you know that you’ve reached your destination; PH58.

You step out into the hallway, peering around and taking in the deep mahogany walls that perfectly accents the white marble floors and neutral beige and brown decor, giving a very chic, modern look. There are only two doors located on either ends of the hallway, both the same deep wooden colour as the hallway – the one you’re looking for is to the farthest left; PH58A.

Your heart is racing as your eyes lock onto the gold plated number and you feel like you had to force your legs to move, steps heavy the closer you get. You can’t believe this is it, after so much chasing and wondering, the person you’ve been looking for all this time is just behind this door.You close your eyes, steeling your nerves, then raising your fist, you give three firm raps.

You wait with baited breath.

But after a minute and a half, the door remains unopened.

You try again, and wait once more.

….

Yet still, nothing.

Brows furrowed, you begin to question whether or not this was the right address but a quick glance at the slip of paper Jungkook handed to you proves that you are. Was he out at the moment? You take out your phone and dial his number, pressing your ear close to the door and listen. It’s a long shot but you’re willing to try anything at this point.

It rings once on your end, then twice…

And that’s when you hear it, the unmistakeable rumble of a phone set onto a table. The buzzing lasts for a short second, however, it’s all that’s needed to have you straighten up with a renewed zeal.

“I know you’re in there.” You say loud and clear, not caring if you might potentially disturb the only other tenant in the vicinity. “So there’s no point in hiding from me anymore because I know everything.”

Silence.

It rings louder than your words and slowly, your temper flares to life, rearing its ugly head.

“Listen, I don’t care what you were thinking, I deserve an explanation in all of this from you and if you’re just going to be a… a self-sacrificing jerk about this! Then – !” Your voice steadily grows louder, all sense of maintaining some semblance of level-headedness thrown out the window and pushed to the brink of your wit’s end, you shout mindlessly, “I’m never talking to you again!”

The door suddenly snaps open and you nearly choke on the gasp the rushes out, startled. Your eyes dart to the figure standing in between the gap and immediately they widen upon seeing who it is.

Jimin’s shock mirrors your own, obsidian eyes boring into you as if not believing you were there standing in front of him either and for a moment you get lost taking each other in.

He is still breathtaking in every sense; dark raven locks swept off his forehead, slightly damp as if he had just showered, the ends of his fringes grazing delicately over his eyes – longer than what you had remembered. He’s dressed in a simple white t-shirt that’s distractingly thin with the neckline dipping so dangerously low that you can’t help but let your eyes trace over the smooth expanse of his clavicle and sternum exposed to you as well as black jeans that never fail to hug his thighs in all the right places with cuts just above the knees, revealing more skin than you can handle right now.

But as you drag your eyes away and to his face, you notice the pallor of his skin has significantly lost its glow, the paleness turning his flawless complexion lifeless, almost cold. Dead. The ashen bruises under his eyes are more noticeable now and the more you look, the more you’re convinced that he might’ve lost weight too; his face slimmer and jawline more prominent to you. An ache blooms in your chest then, muting the resentment briefly.

He looks exhausted, more than you’ve ever seen him before.

And your heart is breaking seeing him like this.

“Cherub…” Jimin breathes in disbelief, the tiredness reflecting even in his voice. “How…”

Like a spell being broken, you break from the trance that’s taken over you and you surge forward.

“You – !”

Caught off guard, Jimin steps back into the foyer of his apartment but you follow after him with a fierceness, driven by the storm of emotion tearing through you right now.

“You fucking asshole!” You continue to lash out, hands flying at him and you land a push that forces him back again. You’re relentless in your pursuit, hate that you’re reduced to pushing and shoving because the words come out in broken pieces, barely formulated enough express the fraction of the hurt you feel because of him. He catches your wrists as you go in for another hit.

“Y/N – ”

You rip away from his grasp easily, flinging your bag to the ground in the process but that’s the least of your concerns as your eyes are trained on him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?!” You shout, shoulders heaving. “Were you ever going to tell me truth?!”

“Y/N, what are you – ” Jimin struggles, confused at having not expected you to find him.

“Were you ever going to tell me that you’re trying to become a guardian angel?!”

He freezes, like a deer caught in the headlights but as your words finally sink in, his eyes slip shut and he brings a hand to run through his hair, sighing.

“Was it Jungkook?”

“Does it matter?” You spit back. “What matters is that you hid this from me!”

“I was going to tell you once I transitioned.”

“And what if you didn’t?!”

“Wow, I love the amount of faith you have in me….”

“That’s not what this is about!” You yell, body heating up and trembling from the intensity, “Do you not see yourself?! How can you risk your life doing this and not tell me anything?!”

“And performing a demon summoning ritual isn’t putting your life at risk?” He argues with a hard gaze. “If I hadn’t found you on time, you would’ve been killed!”

“I wouldn’t have done it if you had just told me what the fuck was going on!” You snap back just as quick.

“I was trying to protect you!” He finally confesses, voice rising to match yours in volume, his own distress peaking. “I wasn’t going to risk anything more than I need to. If I have to put my life on the line in order to guarantee your safety then I don’t care.”

“BUT I DO!”

Your words resonate loudly throughout the room, reaching to a pitch that has it ringing in your own ears. It felt like time itself had come to a stand still with the way Jimin is frozen in stunned silence. You’ve never been one to scream during a confrontation, hadn’t counted yourself as the type but you suppose this is your first time being pushed to the extremes of your limit. When neither of you speak, you take in a ragged breath.

“Did you think I wasn’t going to notice that something was wrong?” You ask, voice hoarse and breaking from the emotional and physical stress. “That I was going to sit around and do nothing?”

Jimin swallows thickly, suddenly unable to meet your eyes and you see his jaw tick. After a pause, he admits quietly. “….I can’t protect you, Y/N. Not the way an angel can because demons aren’t meant for it – I’d only end up hurting you if I try.”

“Hurting me?” You scoff at the audacity. “You thought avoiding me, ignoring my calls and texts with no explanation wasn’t going to hurt me? You didn’t think that if you – ” You choke, and you had to fight to get the next few words out. “If you died because of me, I wouldn’t be hurt?”

He says nothing in response, can’t hope to because any words die on his tongue at the sight of you. He thinks this is the second time he’s seen you like this – distraught with glassy eyes wet with unshed tears –  the first being that night when he had showed up bleeding on your bedroom floor. It makes him want to reach out, to hold you and brush away those tears before they fall but the guilt keeps him where he is, away from you.

Yet despite how close you are to breaking, there’s a quiet determination that’s ignited in you and it’s what dares you to take a step closer to him.

You’re not going to run. Not from this, not from him.

“You might look like Jimin, might sound like him and I might’ve watched hundreds of videos of him…..But I don’t know him….” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know Jimin.” And your next words you say with a softness so tender that it’s heartbreaking to hear. “But I know you.”

The way you’re so sure of every step you’re taking makes him withdraw back. His mind is at war with itself; he knows he shouldn’t let you come this close, afraid of what he might end up doing when he feels what little self-control he has left slipping away, like sand between his fingers. It was so much easier with you hitting and screaming at him.

Jimin feels the sofa hit the back of his thighs. You keep going.

“I know you won’t hurt me without meaning to.”

“Y/N…Don’t –”

It’s a feeble attempt; he knows it’s no use, not when there was no meaning put behind those words. He can smell you now, your scent overwhelming and tempting, and it further empowers his traitorous heart. When he swallows, he swears he can taste you.

He’s losing focus, his senses being filled with nothing but you.

“If you think you can scare me by saying that, you’re wrong.”

You tentatively reach out, waiting to see if he’ll turn you away but all he does is watch you entranced, to see what you’ll do next. Gently, you place your palm against his cheek.

Jimin inhales sharply at the touch, melting at the warmth against his chilled, clammy skin. He can feel himself come alive again, the dull constant ache of his body soothed for the first time, and his eyes flutter shut. He looks so serene this way and your heart squeezes, wanting to offer more solace. To let him know that he has you. You lean in until your foreheads touch and you feel the light caress of his breath brush against your cheeks and lashes.

“So I don’t need you to be a guardian angel. All I need is for you to stay beside me just as you are, like you always have.”

Muted crimson eyes are suddenly peering at you through a half-lidded gaze, the colour dulled but they bore into you intensely. There’s a flurry of emotions flitting through them as they flicker over your face, searching for any traces of hesitation yet finding none. Your willingness astounds him, and he’s almost afraid that it’s all a delusion conjured up from his carnal desires. But you mean to prove him wrong the moment you catch his eyes lingering on your lips.

The first brush was as light as a butterfly’s wing, chaste and soft, but it’s enough to subdue him completely, bring him to his knees and have him craving you like a starved man in the middle of a dessert. The moment seems to last too shortly for him. Even when you barely part away, Jimin mourns at the lost of contact.

“Stay with me?” You whisper.

He answers by closing the gap between you again, pressing firmly this time and sealing the words against your lips. You sigh out and he swallows the sweet sound, finally getting to savour the taste of you. Like taking the first bite of the forbidden fruit, the newfound hunger takes over, consuming him.

And he gives into the lust, leaving him wanting more.

[unknown-saddened-user]

When I’m Watching You Watch Him

Jason X Reader

Mention of Dick X Reader

A/N: Got hit with an oldie but good song. Watching You Watch Him by Eric Hutchinson, just makes me feel all sorts of ways. Anywho, my friend was making me binge some of the animated DC films with her and this just kinda happened, my bad.

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

I love you from the bottom of my heart

And that's not gonna change, but things look grim

Oh, Jason had it bad. Really, really bad. Just watching her do the simplest of things made him melt into a puddle. 

He had a slight crush on (y/n) before he died. And not to be dramatic or anything, but after all the care and time she had put into helping him recover he’s pretty sure she could hit him with a crowbar and he’d still put a ring on it. 

What did all those gen-z toddlers call it, simping? Yeah, he was kinda a simp for her at this point, and there was use trying to escape the reality of it. Everywhere his mind took him always brought him back to the same thought, (y/n). That’s fine though, he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He was a man damned to eternal hell in the presence of a blessed angel from the highs of heaven. Well shit, this ain't gonna go well. 

When I'm watching you watch him

Christ, there she goes again looking at his goddamn brother. Dick fucking Grayson, golden boy himself, the first boy wonder. All eyes were only Dick as he told countless tails in remarkable detail at the large round table. She watched him from across the table, an unmistakable sparkle in those lively (e/c) eyes of hers. 

“C’mon (y/n) bring those pretty eyes this way,” Jason whispered quietly enough as to not be heard.

Both elbows of his elbows were on the table which was something that would drive Alfred insane. One hand tapped idly on the oak surface, and the palm of the other held his heavy head. His gaze focused on her, taking every feature, loving each and every bit of the angel before him. 

He knew he didn’t deserve her, but he couldn’t help but yearn for her anyways. Hell she deserved better than anyone in this damned family.

I give you the best a man can hope to give

He wants nothing more than to spoil her. And just when she thinks she’s seen it all he’ll surprise her with something new and filled with love. 

Jason would do anything for her, if only she would only let him. He could repay all the love she put into him at least ten fold.

But I'm not feeling brave

Chances are slim

Jason was a man of action, words were never really his forte. But, of course it was something his brother excelled at. Capturing every spot light within miles of his being, there never seemed to be a moment when attention strayed from the eldest.

Of course there was so much Jason wanted to say to (y/n). However, everytime he got the chance, her attention was always pulled somewhere else. And when she came back to ask him what he wanted to say, he would always brush it off, completely missing his shot. So all the things he wanted to say went unsaid. 

One would figure that literature would have maybe taught him something about wooing a lady, but alas, he is a hopeless romantic with no idea how to talk to his crush. 

When I'm watching you watch him

Today was the day of another gala Jason was forced to attend. That meant that he had to dress to impress, tux and all, much to his dismay. 

Jason of course arrives early to help Alfred prep with the rest of the boys. Which never ended well. When he opened the door he was greeted by the sadly normal sight of Damian attempting to choke Tim, and while most time he would have joined in the chaos, a dolled up damsel caught his gaze. 

(Y/n) was trying to persuade Damian to let Tim go. She offered him cookies, however, Damian was not fazed. 

God she was gorgeous, he thought. Lightly applied makeup on her already flawless complection, a dress complimenting her figure perfectly, hair topping it all off to complete the look. She was just, so her, and he loved it. 

Just as he was about to lend a helping hand in her efforts, Dick stepped in to physically separate the two boys. Jason could only watch as she blushed when that dumbass winked towards her. Damian, of course, ran to her glaring at Tim as he asked for the promised cookie. Dick laughed as she raised a questioning brow at the boy hugging her waist. Jason let out a sign, walking past them to the kitchen, occasionally glancing at her, desperate for her to return his stares.

Oh, what is left to learn

When he will let you crash and burn

Dick was quite the flirt, it wasn’t hard for anyone to figure out upon meeting him. He flirted with every single person, heck he would probably flirt with a dog. Jason shuttered at the thought. 

All Dick’s life he has been a player, toying around with others' feelings. A complete heartbreaker. It kills Jason to know that she could possibly become one of the many victims burned by his games. 

He never gives attention

But you still yearn

It's obvious to Jason that she was enraptured by Dick, falling for all his empty flirting. Or at least that’s how he saw it. If only she could see it the way Jason did. Maybe then her heart wouldn’t ache for someone who never who would never see her in a romantic way. 

Part of Jason is relieved that Dick isn’t into her. But still…. 

Where do I fit in

There she was sitting next to Damian who was fiddling with her fingers out of boredom. It was kinda sweet how motherly she was to him. And anyone could tell just how much that little demon spawn looked up to her. (Y/n) was someone Damian values above all others, even Dick. He was stuck to her side every moment he could be, only acting his real age around her. She just had that effect on him and Jason has no idea how she does it.

Every Wayne had a special place in her heart, just like she held a special place in theirs. The whole family was like her own, they were a family she never had growing up all alone in the streets of Gotham. 

The same exact streets he spent most of his childhood wonder around. Having a similar past made it easy for the two to bond. Exchanging memories of hardships and prosperities while laying on the roof of Wayne Enterprise, tracing out shapes made from glowing stars in the moonlit sky. 

When I’m watching you watch him  

Jason sat alone sipping whiskey from the canteen tucked in the inside of his coat pocket. He could just tell by the way she was looking at his older brother who was dancing between a crowd of ladies that it was going to be a very very long night.

God only knows why I still wait around

Except I hate to see you cry

He doesn’t understand how Dick could just ignore her loving gazes. Does Dick not understand that the woman Jason practically worshipped was crying out for his attention? What a dumbass, Jason thought.

And I need you 

But there are things I cannot do

If only Jason had the balls to go over there and ask her to dance. Steal her attention away from that play boy and focus it on the man who would die for her in a heartbeat. (Y/n) was his salvation, his savior from the twisted shadow that darkened all that good in his mind after being revived. 

Though his mind was screaming at him to comfort her, he physically could not approach her. Not even Jason himself understood what was holding him back, it was not pride, not masculinity, god knows he would scrap all of that for her.

Maybe it was fear, the fear of not being good enough. The fear of being rejected by her angelic self. 

Man, he sighed taking another swig of the bitter liquid, it was indeed going to be a long night.

And I want you

When he’s playing all his games

Jason watched her the whole night, even when she got her turn to dance with Dick. The sight really tore Jason to pieces. He would almost rather get beaten with a crowbar then watch that ever again. 

It was hard to pick between swooning over the smiles and giggles passing those luscious lips of her and punching the absolute shit out of Dick as he led her on. But, he chose to just let her be happy for the moment.

However that moment was short lived as people who stood idly on the side were pulling into the center of the room to dance. Every time someone tried to coax him over he would snap at them. That was until she held out both of her hands out to him, at first he shook her off. But, unfortunately for him, (y/n) was just as stubborn as he was and she was going to get him out on that floor even if it was the last thing she ever did. 

Puffing out her chest strut over to his isolated figure. Oh, how he wished she had not come over to him. Who the hell was he if he had denied the pouty expression on her face that was supposed to be a menacing glare. 

And it gets hard to tell who's the victim

Both of them danced the longest together which kinda pissed off the baby bat who wanted her attention oh so badly. Jason could give less of a shit thought, he was going to make the most of this moment. 

Two partner rotations had gone by as people swayed with the music, but he wasn’t quite ready to give her up. Life, like always, didn’t seem to want to comply with Jason’s wishes as she was swiped from him amongst the crowd as another person was thrown into him. 

The two youngest were quick to catch onto Jason’s dilemma. Tim felt kinda bad, the longing stares of a broken man really did a number on the sleep deprived boy’s heart strings. Damian pretended to not give two shits, he values Dick as an important role model, but even Damian knew that Dick was no good for his beloved Ummi. If Damian had to choose between the two, he would rather her go with Jason. 

When I’m watching you watch him

The cycle continued just as it had for months on end. Jason would look her way, but his gaze was never returned. 

Oh, what is left to learn to learn

When he would let you crash and burn

She would give her romantic affection to the eldest, just like she alway had. And in return Dick strung her along like a lovesick puppy on a loose leash. Never committing to her, but flirting just enough to keep her hooked on in his delusional version of love. 

He never gives attention 

But you still yearn

One day, Jason prays, one day she will look his way. Giving her even more love then she could ever hope for.

But, that day is not today, or the next day, or the day after that. All he can do is wait hopelessly from his spot.

Where do I fit 

Sometimes he wonders if she even sees him anymore. He feels as though he has become nothing but a forgotten memory filed in the back of that pretty head of hers. 

Jason can only hope that one day she will see him the same way he sees her.

When I’m watching you watch him

As of lately something seemed to be off. Her eyes weren’t as bright as they were. She carried herself in an anxious manner, constantly fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. 

It concerned Jason to no end. He had no idea why she was acting the way she was, and no matter how far he dug nothing came up. And it aggravated him that Dick ignored her strange behavior, it really wasn’t that hard for someone to tell something was off if they had been around her as long as the Wayne's have. 

Hell, even Damian took notice of her distressed figure. Her state caused the brat to cling to her hip even more than normal. Occasionally, Damian would send a glare the golden boy’s way as he approached the two.  Damian’s worried expression shifts to her face to Jason’s stares in a pleading manner. It was if he was asking Jason to do something. Fix her, help her, comfort her; do something dammit. 

God only known why I still wait around

Except I hate to see you cry

Imagine his surprise when the angel of his dreams shows up at his door in the middle of the night, tears staining the soft skin of her cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy, it's not hard to tell that she had been crying for a couple of hours.

One of Jason’s old oversized sweatshirts draped over her much smaller frame. She bunched up one of the giant sleeves, a heap of fabric gathered into the palm of her still covered hand. Using the sleeve she wiped her wet eyes making tiny splotches of the fabric darken from the salty liquid.

Oh God, he didn’t know what good he had done for her to show up at his doorstep, but he wasn’t going to question it. 

And I need you

But there are things I cannot do

(Y/n) was a sight for sore eyes, even in her grief stricken state.

Gathering her into his arms, Jason pulled her into the apartment quietly shutting the door behind her as to not startle her any further.

Jason had an idea as of why she was upset. Dick stood her up for their weekly coffee get together for the second time this month, opting to hang out with some whore he met at the gala the other month. 

It was pathetic really. Dick had no concern for (y/n)’s feelings and it made Jason’s blood boil dangerously close to the lip of the pot. 

And while this probably would have flustered him in any other scenario, leading to him awkwardly patting her back or something. But, there was only one thing going through his mind at this point. Comforting her. Making all her problems become nothing but a long forgotten memory. 

And I love you

Like a broken record plays 

But I’m a window pane

A phantom limb

No matter how much it hurt him to hold her so close, knowing that she didn’t return his fatal feeling, killed him all over again. However, he would suck it up to if it meant bringing a smile back to that gorgeous face of hers.

He’s a sucker for her, but at least he knows it. Jason might not be able to admit it in words, but he did his best to relay it through actions.

When I’m watching you watch him

“That woman was right, I’m just not worth it,” She whispered through hiccups. 

Jason’s eyes shot down to her in utter shock, his grip involuntary tightening on her frame, causing her to let out a small squeak. 

What did that filthy pig say to his angel? That gold digger didn’t have a clue what the word meant. Oh, Dick was in for it the next time he came around. 

“I don’t know what upsets me more,” Jason muttered gently, “the fact that she said that or the fact that you actually believe that bitch.”

Clearly his statement caught her attention. Glossy eyes pooling with salty tears threatening to spill over peered into his own. 

Fuck it, he thought, its now or never.

Taking a deep breath, exhaling hot air through his nose, he threw everything worry and doubt out the window and took his chances.

No matter how many times she tried to wipe her tears, they just kept coming as he spilled out all his thoughts about her. Telling her just how priceless she was to him. Jason made sure not to skip out on even the slightest of detail. His walls shattered, heart lying bare and utterly vulnerable before her. He, himself, couldn’t help but let a couple tears cascade down. 

Taking her other dry sleeve she brought it to his face, gently wiping the water droplets away as they fell. All this time she has been looking at the wrong man. Listening as Jason’s walls shattered rekindled those mushy feelings she had for him back before his Robin days. Back during the times when they could care less about the world as they fought the harsh world side by side. 

Those feelings she pushed down when he came back guns blazing. When he disregarded everything he once had, putting all his pain into the bullets in the barrels of his guns. Though she never gave up on him, it was hard for her. All he did back then was push her away, giving her the cold shoulder time after time again. Though all her efforts were kicked to the side and stomped on at the time.

Dick was the only one to comfort her back then. Maybe it was the comfort and reassurance that drew her to him all those times, but what does it matter anymore.

When I’m watching you watch him

Little did they know the two nosey pairs of eyes watching them through the window from a roof a couple buildings over. Binoculars peered into the living room where Jason and (y/n) rocked back and forth on their feet in each other's embrace. 

Smack!

Both Red Robin and Robin let of a high pitched yelp as the binoculars were swiped from their faces. They stared at each other with wide eyes of surprise, a heavy grunt brought them from their daze. Neither one of them wanted to look behind, acting like toddlers being caught doing something they knew they weren’t supposed to. 

To giant gloved hands extended palms up in front of their faces, a wordless demand to hand over the devices. Of course they did as they were told, but not without complaining and throwing a couple jabs at one another. The boys headed in the opposite direction to patrol the remainder of the city. 

Once they were out of sight, Batman put the binoculars to his eyes. A rare smile graced his rough feature at the sight of the two. Hooking the lenses to his belt he went after the bickering boys.

It was a start. It was their start. The start of something beautiful in the years to come. 

When I’m watching you watch him

[spikemuth-post]

Piers playing Minecraft with the boys/trainers

Idk, this compels me, let’s do this shit  

Piers and The Boys Playing Minecraft

Leon is hosting and he invites everyone he can to play with him. Piers shows up last and chuckles at the absolute shit show

Leon: WE. ARE. SUPPOSED. TO. CREATE. SHELTER. Piers: What’s with the hole? Leon: Raihan is digging straight down Raihan: Found a fucking cave. What have you found besides flowers? Leon: We need to create a shelter before nightfall- Piers: Mate, how far did you dig? Raihan: I found iron already if that helps- Piers: It doesn’t- Bede: I found a mountain top that would make a good base Gordie: No, Zombies can climb mountains. We need to make a treehouse- Piers: Whatever Gordie’s doin’ I’m followin’ Gordie: Hell yeah, roomies Leon: We are supposed to live TOGETHER- Piers: I mean, we share the world. Why bother sharin’ a roof- Bede: Is no one going to help me build the mansion? Piers: I’m making a treehouse- Gordie: Well come on then!  Piers: Mate, I JUST spawned in, I only found Leon cause he and Rai are RIGHT here. Where are you? Gordie: If you look in the distance you’ll see a dark wood forest- Piers: Those are bad news, you want to make a home there? Gordie: It’ll be fun Piers: Can’t argue with that, I’m comin’  Piers wanders off and Leon is looking down Raihan’s hole he dug. He suddenly falls in, hitting the ground and making Raihan laugh. Leon doesn’t say a word. At the same time, Bede is attacked by a bear and panics, falling off the mountain. When their deaths pop up Piers shakes his head, Gordie snickers.

Piers: What happened? Raihan: Leon fell in my hole- Leon: Please don’t say it like that- Piers: Damn, at least buy him dinner first- Gordie: That needs to be all over the internet- Piers: Pretty sure it already is- Leon: Did you pick up my stuff? Raihan: Yeah, I got it Bede: Oh please, don’t all come help at once. Piers: We weren’t. Gordie, finish up the floors, I got the ceiling- Bede: I WAS BEING ATTACKED Gordie: Yeah, Normally you see I’d give a shit but we’re almost done with a SICK loft- Piers: How’d this sheep get in our treehouse? Gordie: She’s our pet now Pier: Namin’ her Marnie- Bede: Leon since I’m here, we can build a house together Leon: Great! Once Raihan dies we can get started Raihan: Found Diamond! Piers: Pft, there goes that plan Leon: Great. come back up here and help us build a house Raihan: I’m going to move into a village and live the good life. I’m not wasting my time building a house. Gordie: You’re just going to mooch on a Testificate’s couch? Piers: Are they still called that- Bede: Why does no one want to cooperate!? Gordie: Me and Piers are cooperating just fine Raihan: until you start dying of hunger and you kill Marnie for mutton Piers: I’d kill him Gordie: Relax, I have rotten flesh to keep me full- Bede: You EAT that stuff? Raihan: There’s literally no downside to it- Leon: Just raid village garden for their potatoes- Piers: You have to find one. Gordie: Then you have to deal with Illagers- Piers: Sometimes- Gordie: Too often- Bede: What are Illagers? Everyone is silent for a couple of seconds. Gordie chuckles to himself. Piers:... What version were you running? Bede: Before today I was running 1.12. 2 for modding purposes- Piers: Oh, shit, Gordie we have to watch this Gordie: This is going to be hilarious Piers: Do you have a lede so we can bring Marnie? Gordie: We’ll name a new sheep Marnie Piers: I’m fine with that. Let’s all move into a village Raihan: This is going to be fun Bede: What the hell is everyone talking about? Leon: Illagers are like evil villagers. Occasionally they’ll raid the villages- Bede: That’s interesting- Leon: Let’s see how it goes.

They move into the village together, everyone in a separate house except Piers and Gordie. Together they built a secret bunker under their house to protect from the inevitable raid. The Raid hit at the worst possible time. Gordie was taking their pink sheep Marnie for a walk, Piers was chopping trees in the nearby woods, Bede was farming in town, Leon was crafting in his house and Raihan was trading.  

Bede:.. What is that bar- Piers: Fuck, I’m not at home- Raihan: ABANDON SHIP! Gordie: THEY HAVE A RAVAGER- Piers: Get Marnie into the bunker. If she dies, you’re moving out- Leon: You guys made a bunker-? Gordie: Way to go Piers, they’re going to mooch off of us- Bede: Who is shooting me!? Leon: I’m not at all equipped for this- Raihan: I packed my shit and I’m already moving somewhere else. Gordie: Don’t worry, I got Marnie into the house  Piers: Thank fuck. Leon: Oh that farm is Decimated- There’s a vex around here- Bede: WHAT IS THAT?! WHY IS THE GROUND MOVING- WHAT IS THAT?! Leon: Bede, Get inside! That’s a ravager, avoid the fairy things- Piers: Shit, we didn’t prep for Vexes Gordie: pft, You didn’t  Gordie opens the secret passage to their bunker and is face to face with a creeper. Since the house is compact, the creeper blows up almost all of it. The sheep dies in the blast and Gordie barely survives. Gordie: Piers, mate, we’re fucked Piers: What happened Gordie: Marnie died- Piers: ugh, Gordie, you’re shit. Move out of the house- Gordie: There isn’t one anymore. There was a creeper in the bunker Piers: Damn I thought it would have despawned by now- Gordie: YOU KNEW IT WAS THERE AND DIDN’T TELL ME!? Piers: I locked it in there like... yesterday- Gordie: PIERS- Bede: Aw, a lovers quarrel- Raihan: This is why you don’t move in with friends- Bede: THERE ARE FAIRIES IN THE HOUSE Leon: DON’T LET THEM IN THE HOUSE Piers: I just got back to notice that Raihan took all of his shit out of his house and got the hell out of here  Gordie: Do you want the mutton from the sheep or is that like in poor taste? Piers: I’m taking what I can carry and I’m following Raihan- Raihan: Anyone else want to become a nomad? Bede: I died about 5 times so I’ll follow. Leon: Come on! We can beat them- Gordie: I’m bowing out too. You can do it, Leon... without us. Piers: We should have just kept a treehouse. Bede: Fuck villages

[cerastes]

SO AMONG THE 72 Arts of the Shaolin Temple, there is one named Tie Shan, or Iron Shirt, which everyone here is familiar with. You know the typical body hardening techniques of hard Chinese martial arts you usually see in Wu Xia? Like when this small and thin dude gets smashed by a giant of a man wielding a tree or a steel pipe and, against all expectations, it doesn’t do jack shit against the dude and instead the log explodes into splinters or the pipe gets bent? That’s Iron Shirt.

The guiding principle of it is to use “qi” (efficient breathing techniques and thoroughly trained muscle tightening) to harden the shit out of your body, usually one body part where you focus the absolutely totality of your attention and kickasstitude. It’s like when the sci fi ship its getting its teeth kick right through its asshole and the captain says “REDIRECT ALL ENERGY INTO SHIELDS!”, it’s basically that, but you train to actually be able to do that in the one-person crew stellar spaceship that is your body, and instead of a proton beam, you are blocking the punch thrown by the blistering white supernova of ire that is the kid at GameStop after you buy the last copy of 50 Cent: Blood On The Sand.

BASICALLY, it’s not so much a whole school in and of itself as much as a discipline you Responsibly Consider in the mastery of the overall fucked and wide scheme of Shaolin martial arts. But, as one of the 72 Arts, it gets its own full backstory because the ancient Chinese people never once fucked around in their entire lives throughout the Dynasties. Don’t believe me? Consider that Jing Ke was just an alcohol-loving scholar who just so happened to love dabbling in swordsmanship, and he spawned the fucking cusp of all anarchist legends, and well deservedly, too, but my point is, the moment the Chinese saw a dope ass technique, that shit NEEDED a backstory, else it would just fall short of the hype their real life entailed.

For real, I really wanna sit down one day and talk about how fucking crazy Chinese myths are simply because their daily lives were worthy of 45 minute long OVAs that leave wanting more: To be ancient Chinese is to live generations upon generations in “Current Events”, in shit that now shows up on history books as “And This Fucking Madhouse Was Going On Over Yonder, In Case You Pondered”. How the fuck do you make mythos attractive and relevant to The People if it fails to outdo Current, Real Events in the “Bruce Willis Shooting a Gatling Gun” meter? You don’t, which is why for every fucking blade of grass that swayed by the wind in old China, there was a specific reason, a legend, and a moral of the story as to why that shit happened, otherwise literally nobody would’ve fucking cared about the grass, the wind, or the swaying.

But today is not that day, today is the day I tell you about IRON SHIRT.

So anyway, the lore behind redirecting all of your energy into your balls so you could tank a kick to the huevos and possibly redirect damage to your opponent by breaking their foot with your mighty pain baby sacks finds its humble origins with our main man, Zhou Tong (who must not be confused with Zhou Tong, archery teacher of general Yue Fei of the Song Dynasty, two different people) in the very self-descriptive story known as... I’m not gonna tell you the title just yet because it kinda fucking spoils the story, which is something the old Chinese were fucking bad about, aight, but trust me, anyway, Zhou Tong! Zhou Tong was just taking a stroll down the road, going places as he usually did, when over yonder, he spotted, without any exaggeration or glamour, an absolute chunkster of a lad, an absolute unit, Agent Fat Fucck’s respected ancestor, a BIG BOY. This dude was MASSIVE and WELL BUILT. So Zhou Tong looks at this mother fucker real good, hits him with that Scan Lv.3, and comes to the very fair and safe conclusion that this man looked forward to humiliating him, if “very fair and safe” also encapsulated “paranoid fucking old man”. See, to be fair to Zhou Tong, he WAS a renowned master of martial arts, and if there’s anything you should know about martial arts, it’s that a great number of martial artists are always looking for that big break, that “get my name out there for those in the know”, and the shortest route to that is to beat up a renowned master. It’s why Bruce Lee always had challengers! It’s why this one time, this one dude threatened Bruce Lee’ family in order to get Bruce to fight him, which is about the single worst possible fucking idea you can get. Drinking molten glass with a dab of lemon is a better idea than picking a malicious fight with Bruce Lee, and yet, here we fucking are! And in case you’re curious, Bruce Lee demolished that dude, but anyways, the thing is, Zhou Tong was, like, 17% justified in thinking this way.

So what he did was what any other person would: He started redirecting all of his energy into his right shoulder. See, the way they were walking, they were going to walk by each other while crossing a bridge, so Zhou Tong was like “this mother fucker wishes to humiliate me by chucking me into the bridge in front of the hoes!”, so Tong, as a master of Iron Shirt, focuses like 1700 Magic Points into his right shoulder, which turns red, and then purple as it becomes harder than rock, harder than iron, harder than spending 5 minutes away from the boys, under his clothes. So, the fated moment comes, they brush shoulders, and the Big Boy gets fucking Destructo-Blasted. Big Boy was almost knocked out of the bridge just from brushing his shoulder. It was so painful that he was pouring saliva and the entire right side of his body was left numb until the next day. Zhou Tong fucking DUNKED on Big Boy and avoided being publicly humiliated in front of girls, the greatest accolade you could possibly append to any student of arts most martial.

Except.

It was a misunderstanding.

That Big Boy was none other than Wu Song, his future student. Wu Song didn’t even notice Tong, he was looking at his own feet and minding his footsteps because he didn’t wanna get his feet wet after last night’s rain.

So, I IMPLORE YOU, the reader, to hold my hand (platonically) and accompany me through a reconstruction of the events through Wu Song’s perspective:

There was a freak rain last night in a place known for how dry it is. You only have shit ass sandals, and there’s a trillion puddles of water between you and your destination. You, as a certified Immense Chunk Man, have large trotters and don’t wanna step in a puddle because then you get the common cold and then you fucking die because this is somewhere around the year 1121 CE and medicine amounted to “these pleasant aromas and needles either heal you or you fucking die”. You take extra care to not get the common cold by minding your steps, and suddenly, out of absolutely fucking nowhere, you get Destructo-Blasted while crossing a bridge, you get utterly ragdolled, you get Broly Punched through three fucking buildings and almost hole-in-one into the river, you are drooling, you can’t feel the right side of your body, and when you look up to brace yourself against your assailant, you see this older man just sort of chilling with a joyful stride, walking as if he didn’t just deliver your fucking groceries with that 200% Damage In Hyrule Castle Lower Half Of The Map Forward Smash. What the fuck?

And then some years pass, you get involved into some Pretty Important Shit, and you’re going to learn martial arts from a certified badass, and then he walks out of the bead curtain holding a lemonade, and guess who the fuck it is, it’s Mister Destructo-Blast himself. How fucking awkward was that encounter? No, really, what were their first words towards each other? “Oh, I remember you! You were the old dude that nearly ripped my arm off for no reason that one day it rained!” That’s a great ice breaker.

So, anyways, they go, train, become even stronger, and then do immensely hype shit in the classic story, Water Margin. Zhou Tong became the 51st of the 72 Earthly Fiends and Wu Song became the 14th of the 36 Heavenly Spirits in the 108 Stars Of Destiny. You should read Water Margin, it’s fucking nuts.

But anyways, that’s the lore behind the esteemed martial art of redirecting all energy to shields, Iron Shirt is pretty cool. The moral of the story is to not just fucking randomly ragdoll people because you’re a mite suspicious, but also? If you can actually randomly ragdoll people like that? You’re probably dope as hell and can get away with it, so practice Iron Shirt for political immunity, that’s all, the end.