#who mentally has his face in his hands lmao I knew this level of appearing to be aloof but actually caring deeply was Scotia's brand of

[yuenieve]

a friendly exchange [k.ayato]

feat. single dad! kamisato ayato, elementary school teacher! female reader.

content warning: modern!au, smut with plot lol, more plot than smut tbh, rich CEO ayato, elementary school teacher reader, dilf/teacher, corruption kink, he’s a tease lmao, dacryphilia(?), doggy, unprotected sex, breeding kink, mating press, bulge kink, pet names (angel, love, darling, girl, precious), he says mommy once, praise(?), he’s kinda a mean dom in the end, fem!reader.

word count: too many to count.

notes: i finished this at 4 am rip sorry for any mistakes lol

nsfw content under the cut!

There wasn’t a pair of ears who haven’t heard of the name Kamisato Ayato. Everyone and their neighbor’s dog have heard some mention of the blue-haired business man. As head of the nation’s leading corporation, Kamisato Ayato was quite the figurative icon.

Figurative more than icon. Because although the well-known CEO has had his name plastered on every nook and cranny of the city, he rarely made a public appearance.

Despite his fame and recognition, you only knew 2 things about him:

1) He is a wealthy and important man. His business, Kamisato Enterprise, oversees many—if not all—work fields in the country, including education. Heck, half his daily income could cover your yearly salary.

2) His son is your student.

Kamisato Akihiko was an intelligent and reserved 1st grader in your class. What he lacked in boisterous banter, he made up in chivalrous charm. You often caught him nose buried in a hardcover book, instead of being with the bustling children on the playground during recess.

Akihiko was a model child, you knew that.

But why were you so nervous to meet his father on parent-teacher day?

Maybe it’s because you knew nothing about his personal life, or because you’ve never seen the mysterious man. Your colleagues at the front office told you his wife showed up for all school events related to Akihiko, but never him. However, by some stroke of luck, Ayato himself RSVP’d for the parent-teacher meeting today.

Swallowing down a nervous gulp, you stood by your classroom door and called out Akihiko’s name. You walked back to your desk, arranging the stack of papers for the nth time.

You heard a knock, “Excuse me?”

His voice was handsomely husky, you noted. Turning around, you came face to face with what you would have assumed to be a relic of a Greek god.

His tall stature and broad shoulders had your eyes wandering. His defined arms looked so incredibly attractive despite being hidden under his suit jacket. He ran a hand through his lilac locks and smiled politely.

“Mr Kamisato…welcome,” You greeted, finally meeting his eyes.

Get a grip, he’s a married man!! I shouldn’t have thought of that, please forgive me…

“Thank you for having me, miss L/n.”

You exchanged the friendly smile and gestured towards one of the desks, “Please, have a seat.”

He sat down and took his expensive black gloves off, you mentally cursed yourself for finding the action effortlessly enticing. You cleared your throat and handed him the papers.

“Akihiko is a wonderful student, these are his assignments and tests.” Ayato went through them and nodded along,

“He’s performing exceptionally well, as you can see. Some of our head teachers are even recommending he skip a few grades.”

Ayato hummed and held his chin between his thumb and pointer finger, “I see…but what do you think?”

“Huh?” You stuttered, not expecting the question.

“What those head teachers say do not concern me. You are Akihiko’s teacher, so you know him best. What do you think? Should he skip a few grades?”

You leaned back against your desk and contemplated the matter. Albeit the little boy truly was clever, you felt hesitant about the decision.

“In all honesty, Mr Kamisato…I don’t think he should,” you answered.

Ayato gave you a knowing look to go on.

“I don’t mean to say your son is incapable of undergoing a higher level workload, but…he’s still a child. The beginning years of elementary school are not meant for academic woes. Akihiko should spend these years exploring his interests, making friends and having fun. He should…be a kid.”

The corner of Ayato’s lips tugged upwards and he nodded, “I wholly agree with you.”

You smiled and turned around to fetch the attendance sheet. Unbeknownst to you, Ayato was gazing at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“If you could just sign here, and if you have any further questions about your son’s performance, I am more than happy to oblige.” You told him.

He sighed and signed the paper, “No, that’s all.” He paused to look into your eyes, “I’m happy you’re Akihiko’s teacher.”

You shyly looked down and smiled as you received the papers back from him.

“I—uhh wasn’t expecting you here, Mr Kamisato. I’ve been told your wife comes to all school events.”

He arched a brow in confusion, “Wife?”

You blinked, “Y-yeah, I believe her name was Kamisato Ayaka…?”

“Ah,” the realization dawned on him, “I think you’ve misunderstood; that’s my sister.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry—!“

“No, no, it’s quite alright.” He assured with a gentle smile. “I don’t have a wife.”

“Oh…”

“My ex wife left when Akihiko was 3.”

You opened your mouth then closed it, unsure of what to respond with. Ayato noticed your predicament and simply waved his hands dismissively, “It’s fine, it happened a long time ago. I’m sure she’s more than fine with my ex business partner now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You murmured, sympathetically.

Ayato stared at you. Despite discussing the misfortunate matter at hand, he seemed to focus on you alone. You looked absolutely iridescent in his eyes, he couldn’t help but take a fleeting glance at your lips.

He shook his head and peered at the clock, “My apologies, but I must be going now.”

You nodded as he rose from his seat, “Of course, thank you for coming today.”

He put his gloves back on and extended his hand out, “It was a pleasure meeting you, miss L/n.”

“Likewise, Mr Kamisato.”

He gave you a soft smile before departing from the classroom. Once he was gone, you sighed and walked back to your desk. You stared at his name on the sheet, your mind wandering.

3) He is very handsome.

+

“Excuse me, miss L/n?”

You peeked down from your desk and spotted Akihiko standing with a bouquet of flowers clearly too big for his 6-year-old hands to carry.

You quickly ushered him to come around the desk and held onto the flower arrangement for him, “What’s this, Akihiko?”

“My dad told me to give it to you, it’s for Mother’s Day.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and you feigned a cough to hide your flustered face.

“Th-that’s so kind of you two, thank you very much, Akihiko.” You patted the boy’s hair and smiled.

Just then, the last bell rang and the erupt sound of children filled the hallways.

You looked down at Akihiko, “You should be heading out now, I’ll see you on Monday. Please thank your father for the flowers.”

He nodded and began to make his way out the classroom, before abruptly stopping by the door.

You tilted your head, “What’s the matter?”

He slowly turned around, his eyes downcast on his shoes. “Miss L/n? Can you do something for me?”

“Of course, Akihiko. What is it?”

He bashfully played with the hem of his shirt, “Well, my dad always says you’re like a mother to me. He says teachers are our second parents.”

You made a sound of amusement, “Your father is correct.”

“If he is, then…can you participate with me in today’s Mother’s Day card contest?”

Your lips parted, that was the last thing you were expecting him to ask. You felt touched to be in this position, and it warmed your heart to know Akihiko felt comfortable enough with you to ask.

“I’d love to help you make a Mother’s Day card.”

+

Ayato had been standing by the school entrance for what felt like half an hour now. Usually, he’d send one of his assistants to pick Akihiko up. But since his schedule spontaneously cleared up for the day, he decided to come himself.

Checking his watch for the hundredth time that afternoon, Ayato decided to go inside and assess the situation. The hallways were scarce until he saw children accompanied by their parents in the courtyard.

He saw dozens of tables and chairs folded out, occupied by little kids and mainly their mothers. The scattered piles of paper and other arts and crafts supplies on the ground was enough to tell him what was going on.

Eventually, he spotted his son with you at one of the tables. He made his way over, a smile crossing his face at the sight of both your joyful expressions.

“Dad!!”

Before Ayato knew it, he felt the force of his son’s hug. His short arms trying to go around his father’s hips. You smiled at the display, admiring the little family.

“Someone forgot to come back to the car,” Ayato teased, picking his son up easily and holding him against his shoulder.

“Sorry, dad. I asked miss L/n to be my mom for the contest!” Akihiko said. You felt your face heat up at the given title, but Ayato found your reaction adorable.

Ah, he really wanted to ruin you.

“I see. Well, I’m happy you asked her. She makes quite the mom, don’t you agree?” At this point, Ayato was purposely saying it to fluster you.

“Akihiko, I think they’re starting now. You can go over there,” you mentioned, diverting the topic.

Ayato lowered Akihiko down, letting him run towards the center with the other kids.

“Thank you for the flowers, by the way.” You brought up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Ayato smiled, “You’re most welcome, miss L/n.”

He started clapping as they began to announce the winners of the card contest. But your gaze remained on him, did he always have that pretty mole? It was so close to his lips…if only you could…

“Y/n.”

“Hm?” He turned to you.

“Y/n. You can call me Y/n,” you said.

His smile only grew wider, having to bite down on his lip to contain himself. “In that case, you may call me Ayato.”

You hummed, repeating it, “Ayato…”

+

“Ayato!! Fuck—!!”

You can’t recall exactly how you ended up with your ass in the air and your face pressed against Ayato’s bed.

After a couple weeks spent chatting during pick up duty, and consequently, after exchanging numbers, Ayato and you grew closer. Until tonight, where he had invited you over for dinner.

One thing lead to another, the same way he lead you to his bedroom, and now you found yourself whining his name as you writhed against the sheets.

“Well isn’t this a surprise? I didn’t expect you to have such a dirty mouth.” He remarked, slamming into your tight cunt even harder.

You moaned loudly, you were grateful that Akihiko was away at his aunt’s house for the weekend.

“Ayato…please…” You squirmed, pathetically. He pulled out and you keened at the sudden empty feeling.

He flipped you over so that you were laying on your back and he could have a good look at your pretty, tear-stricken face. His hands were placed on either side of your head, his strong arms supporting his weight.

“Please what? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.” He said, leaning in closer. His breath tickled your skin as he left feather light kisses on your chest.

“Please…fuck me,” you whined.

He chuckled, “Aren’t I fucking you right now, angel? Are you saying I’m doing a bad job?”

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down against you. You felt his tip nudging against your folds and you whimpered at the slight friction.

“Please, breed me. ‘Want you inside, wanna feel it inside.”

His dick throbbed at your words. If he had no self control, he would have ruined you right this second. He won’t deny, he was hoping you’d say that, hoping you felt the same way he did.

He raised himself up, “Is that it, angel? You want me to knock you up?”

You nodded, feverishly. He smirked and slowly lowered his head to your pussy. He placed a long, wet kiss against your clit, making you buck your hips up sporadically.

He chuckled again, pulling away. “Don’t worry, love,” he said, finally pushing himself in you, “I’ll make you a mommy.”

Your hands instinctively reached out to his shoulders, grabbing onto them to steady yourself as he bottomed out.

Slowly, he began pumping himself in and out of your sloppy cunt. Your past round making it easier for him to slip between your folds.

The sound of skin slapping skin began to fill the room, his thrusts growing harsher and faster. He took one of your hands that were hooked on his shoulder and held onto it as he leaned down.

“Do you feel that?” He whispered, deeply into your ear, guiding your hand towards the noticeable bulge in your abdomen. “Do you feel me inside you?”

“Ayato,” you cried out, he felt you tighten around his length.

“Oh? Does my naughty girl enjoy these lewd things?” He smiled and hoisted your legs up to rest on his shoulders, allowing him to reach even deeper within you.

“Ah! Ayato, r-right there!” You moaned, feeling the knot inside your stomach begin to form.

He practically folded you in half by now, his pelvis hitting your clit with every rut of his hips. He groaned, “You feel so good, precious.”

“A-ayato, ‘m close!!”

His hand met your clit and he started to rub it fervently, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock. Don’t you want to give Akihiko a sibling?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you continued to babble nonsensically, feeling your sweet high approaching.

By the way Ayato’s thrusts were getting sloppier and out of rhythm, you could tell he was close too. The sound of his choked grunts also pushed you further off the edge.

With a cry of his name, your climax finally crashed as you came all over him. A white ring of your slick painted on the base of his cock.

Ayato threw his head back, panting heavily, “I’m—fuck—‘gonna cum.”

You were prepared to feel his warm seed fill your pussy up, but instead, he pulled out and stroked his length once, twice and came all over your stomach.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, you were clearly unsatisfied. You whined and squirmed beneath him, “Ayato, why’d you—“

He held your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up to face him.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

You sniffled and he wiped your stray tears away. He repositioned himself at your entrance, steadily rocking his hips again, making you hiss from how sensitive you were.

“If you want me to fill you up, you’ll have to work a lot harder than that, darling.”

written by yuenieve.

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Pt. 10

a/n: based on this post uwu

okayokayokayyeyyy

LOOOK I LOVE THIS SCENE LIKE I CAN GO ON A RANT OF HOW IMPORTANT THIS SCENE IS LIKE SKDJSLDKKSSM

okay so

yuhhhhhh

the way this is set up is basically seijoh simping for you

also they have their own separate gc just for them bc they dont want you to see them just simping for you

even tho oiks ltr does that everyday

but hes not ready for that conversation

there was a few times that you were kinda curious as to what was in the chat

but they would click off and they would blush before diverting you to a different conversation

this might sound hella weird and creepy

idk bout yall but i think its cute that they take random pictures of you doing the sinplest things

this all started bc of one picture

from baby aki-kun

so basically you stayed behind with kunimi during monday to just study and you sat in front of him while sharing his desk

babie took a pic of you just studying and he sent it to the gc with no context

its a known fact that seijoh doesnt practice during mondays so they were all doing something out of school

but they were all missing you so seeing you with kunimi fueled jealousy in everyone

even kyo

oikawa blew up in the chat and was keyboard smashing

the others were just teasing him like hes lucky youre with him

but behind the screen, they were blushing and red and envious and AAAAA

thus spurred on some sort of competition

like they would send the chat pictures of you like 'hA TAKE THAT SHES WITH ME'

unbeknowst to you, these boys have folders of just cute candid pics of you

oikawas insta is filled of you and his snap is full of you in his story and his tiktok is full of screaming simp rants about you

the tiktok comments are all like, 

‘IS SHE YOUR GIRLFRIEND?!’

‘OIKAWA-SAN SHES ADORABLE’

‘BACK🤺OFF🤺OIKAWA🤺I🤺CALLED🤺DIBS🤺ON🤺HER🤺FIRST🤺‘

random ones like him doing a day in my life type of vids and you appearing and everyone can just see the small blush on his face and the bashful yet happy smile on his lips

its really adorable

but the real ones know that shes been appearing in his insta since day 1

moilk.bread.1

thats practically your account now 

welll,,,

its more of a fan account for you and a lot of people from aoba johsai follow that account since you dont have an official one yet so they all simp for you there

the pictures were all from everyone like the boyz group chat was a haven for your candids

you did think it was strange that the boys would constantly ask to take pictures with you and everyone was just trying to get a pic to have aesthetic couple pics w you

and they would put it as their wallpaper or lockscreen

IMAGINE THE BLUSH THEY WOULD GET WHEN COMPLETE STRANGERS WOULD ASK THEM IF THATS THEIR GIRLFRIEND

oooo i mentioned this in the post too that iwa and you went to the gym and you guys took a mirror pic

after, you didnt really like the gym bc its just hard yanno?

iwa went back and while he was setting up his weights and equipments, his gym buddy noticed his phone light up causing your picture to show up

'oh? is that your girlfriend, iwaizumi?'

duh he doesnt have a girlfriend so he was like 🤨 until he saw his phone

the lockscreen was blaringly bright and your 'couple pic' was showing with the notifications

totally not oikawa blowing up their group chat bc he was with you

ofc babie hajime got all flustered and he blushed before shaking his head

'n-no'

he mumbled and his buddy laughed before clapping his back

'well, you obviously like her so do somethinf about it before someone does'

dont you think he doesnt know that?

also with mattsun!

this mans works in a cute cafe that this old granny owns and this thought has been living in my head rent free

and he was working during the weekend at the cafe

there were other people there but granny loves him bc hes been working there sibce he was like 15 and she took care of him a lot

he was like a grandson

so while he was serving, this granny was manning the cashier and checking people out

issei's phone was there on the table behind the counter and it started glowing at the indication of the messages being received

'have a nice day-oh!'

she noticed it right there and she saw the picture on his lockscreen

you were probably being carried by him due to your levelness with his height and you were kissing his cheek while issei smiled brightly

that was a picture you both took during an outing at the mall and the sunset behind you was just perfect to take a picture in

poor granny was like 'oop dont look at the messages' so she turned it over to not go to his privacy

there again you were

it was a polaroid of you two and he was backhugging you at school

hint? 👀

askldfjlsdkf

she knew issei was a very handsome young man so there shouldnt have been a surprise that he would be dating someone

can we name this granny?

granny inko lol

okay so granny inko saw issei coming over to rest the serving board thing and she beckoned him over

mattsun nodded and leaned over the counter to see what she wanted only to be greeted with a flick to the forehead

‘oW what was that for?’

he whined while holding the spot

granny inko tutted disapprovingly before crossing her arms

‘youve been working all week this week when you could’ve taken time off to spend it with your pretty lady. is this how men are nowadays? didn’t i teach you right to treat women properly?’

duh baby mattsun was confused like O_O

‘wha?’

his dumb question made her grab the phone and place it on the counter in front of him

‘your girlfriend, child. women need attention constantly and as much as you want that money, is it worth losing that smile full of happiness?’

okay stop it granny im getting emotional

more like disagreeing bc that wouldnt put food on the table BUT ANYWAYS

baby issei was surprisingly embarassed and scratched his neck

‘um,, baa-chan,,,,, she’s not my girlfriend’

he flustered and gave her an awkward smile

granny inko shot him a confused look and tapped the phone

‘well, she looks like she is. and if not, better hurry your move, boy. girls that make men happy like that only comes as rare as a good scratch ticket’

LMAO 

i do not encourage gambling so please save your money kids

you know what

these boys do that just to actually feel like it

okay thats confusing so imma explain it in greater detail

whenever someone mistakes you as their girlfriend, it makes them feel like you are for that split second and its just an addicting feeling

its like what if you were their girlfriend?

i mean, youre already the whole team’s girlfriend but theyre greedy brats and just want you for themselves

ohohohohoh

kyo!!

kyo def has a selfie of you both with the doggie filter but it was actually you who took it while he was just staring at you in the background

that was his lockscreen for like the rest of his high school career

lol

anyways!!

he was actually in a fight and during it, his phone fell off to the ground and conveniently oikawa messaged causing it to light up

one of the thugs had their hands gripping kyo’s collar and was pushing him against the wall while the others were surrounding them

they saw the phone flash and kyo cursed at the terrible timing and he made a mental note on killing oikawa later

a guy picked it up and he smirked, seeing the pretty smile of a pretty girl

‘heh? whats this?’

kyotani pushed the guy who was holding him but other two surged towards him and held him tighter

their leader snatched the device and chuckled

‘oh. its that bitch from his school. what is it’

he snaps his fingers as he tries to remember before stopping

‘aha! l/n y/n!’

kyo growled

‘shut up!’

the guy grinned at him and tapped the phone against kyo’s chin

‘oh yea. i heard shes a cutie. most people here know her, kid. now we know shes connected to you and guess what. you cross us again, she’ll take your place as you are right now. orrrr, we can,,, use her as our pet. thats how she is in your team, right? so let us have a turn. maybe we can send you a pic, hm?’

yea no that wasnt happening

kyotani easily beat those people up after because even just saying that unleashes power he didnt know he had

‘bastard. youre lucky this is just a warning. you touch her and i will kill you’

he landed one last kick on the guy’s face before taking the phone and leaving

now he has to figure out how to hide the bruises

you fussed later and he didnt tell you the reason instead just saying they said something that made him angry

nah

you were a person he didnt want to disappoint and he knows how much it hurts you to see him in that state

that was one of the things he hated but loved at the same time

you were such an empath that you would treat him and wince as if you were the one feeling the pain instead of him

and it made him feel special

you were one of the few things he holds close and he would be damned if anything happened to you because of him

the group chat was actually just blowing up with more screaming and the third years yelling at each other with the first years just casually reading the texts

they were used to the arguments within the team and you would remain so naive with the whole thing

kunimi is the type to keep silent and he didnt really care about anyone getting angry if you were spending time with him

but he does get annoyed if you were with kindaichi because you three were a package lol

like when kindaichi and you were at the arcade, this kid walked all the way there just because he didnt want kindaichi to hog you to himself

duh you thought this was adorable and endearing bc they wanted to hang out w you

no LUV theyre greedy brats who gets jealous over yOU

OH

so like i mentioned before that you and makki would walk over to the bakery and you guys would buy food there and such

and its also canon in here that makki only shares his food with you and no one else lol

why?

because when you eat the puffs, you put one in each cheek and it makes you look so adorable like a squirrel

sorry but squirrels are so cute like AAAAA

makki takes so many pictures of you and a lot are surprise shots where your eyes would be wide with cheeks full of food

aaaaa so cute

like you and makki sat down on a bench in the park across the bakery and you excitedly dug in to your own treat

makki chuckled at your excitement but he placed his hand on you arm to stop you

‘y/n-chan. say aaa’

you lit up and let him put the puff in your mouth and thought he was done but was surprised when there were two

you happily chewed it and went back to looking at your treats

but makki interrupted you again by calling you out

‘princess~’

the nickname made your eyes widen with red painting your cheeks and the shutter of the camera made you realize what he did

‘makki-senpai!’

you whined and he laughed

makki had a lovestruck smile on his face and he wiped the bit of creme on the corner of your lip

‘gotta take care of my princess~’

STOPPPPP MY HEART? GONE MY SOUL? GONE HOTEL? TRIVAGO

OH MY GOD IM IN SUCH A MAKKI AND MATTSUN AND IWA AND OIKAWA AND THIRD YEARS IN GENERAL BRAIN ROT PLEASE HELP

but we gotta give love to the second years :’)

ive mentioned that watari is the only person to ever go into your house right?

well, he comes over to cook and such so you guys spend time making food for the team 

watari takes this opportunity to take pictures of you cooking and the group chat cries bc its so domestic and they all start having the same thoughts

they really said seijoh braincells

it was like seeing a glimpse of a possible future for them

you, wearing an apron, cooking on the stove with your hair thrown in whatever with baggy clothes

gosh

thats like you someday being their wife and waking up one morning to see you there cooking in the kitchen

oikawa swears he had a dream that night because of that picture and he continuously thanks watari for YEARS because of that picture

okay are you curious about the dream?

yuhhh

oikawa woke up in an unfamiliar bed in a foreign room 

he felt his bones crack when he stretched and his hand extended out to a side that was still quite warm

hm

somebody must be sleeping next to him

then he stood up, catching his reflection in the mirror in front of the bed

;)

why would there be a mirror there hmmmm????

ANYWAYS

he noticed he had a bigger build and his hair was longer

then came the itch of the facial hair that he swore wasnt there a minute ago

this guy even checked out his butt and to his surprise, wow

obviously he was confused and a part of him thought this was the future

tooru walked to the door to go into the hallway and concluded, yep, this was not his house

then he heard music being played somewhere and a mixture of voices coming from a room

sounded like a woman and children

he stops at the top of the stairs, suddenly hit of the thought that this voice was so familiar

‘hm?’

tooru walked downstairs and stopped when down the hallway in front of the steps led to the kitchen where the voices seemed to lead to

‘mama! mama! mama! toast! i wan toast!’

‘in a bit, darling. just let me finish flipping the pancake’

the song was lo-fi with the volume being turned low enough to hear the voices fine

tooru wandered down the hallway and he stopped, finally seeing the owners of those voices

there was a handsome little boy sitting on the chair by the island and his brown hair was a mess of wild curls

there was a woman with h/c hair swaying to the tune and a beautiful little girl curled up in her arms while sitting on her hip

‘hey’

oikawa spoke out and caught everyone’s attention

‘papa’s awake!’

‘pa!’

‘hello tooru’

tooru froze

that was you

he knows it’s you

‘y/n-chan’

he whispered and you looked back at him from the pan

‘yes? if youre looking for coffee, we ran out apparently’

that was not what he was talking about

he hastily walked over to the boy and he blinked rapidly

‘you look like me’

he mumbled and the child grinned

‘eung! papa  and yozo look the same! mama and nana say so!’

yozo?

feeling like all the attention was on him, the little girl whined and her hands made grabby motions to him

‘pa pa’

she whined and tooru just felt something in him that screamed to hold the kid

you shushed the little girl

‘dont worry, looney loon. papa’s right there’

loon?

tooru stayed frozen at his spot and you raised an eyebrow at him

‘tooru? luna wants you’

oh

luna

that snapped him out of his trance and he held the little girl in his arms where she smiled at him and then he felt tears welling up in his eyes

then he woke up

okay sorry that was a long dream

so this dragged on for so long already okay

this was only meant to be small but aaaaa i couldnt help itt!!!!

but anyways!

the boys are just simps for you and theyre creeps that take pictures of you and they think about you all the time pls accept their love

also a mild continuation of the dream:

oikawa was holding luna and she was happily laying there when another figure emerged from the hallway

‘iwa-chan?’

he asked, surprised

what was he doing here?

iwa heard his name and grunted before going to a beeline for you

you smiled at him and he leaned in to give you a kiss to which oikawa froze in

iwa noticed his best friend holding his daughter and luna saw her father there

‘daddy!’

she shrieked and tooru blanched

‘uh, what?’

iwa extended his hands out to hold the girl but tooru held her tightly and leaned back

haji narrowed his eyes

‘um, give me my daughter, oikawa’

he grumbled and tooru shook his head

‘no! shes my daughter!’

you blinked

‘your god daughter, yes. but she’s half of your best friend, tooru’

half of his-

god? daughter?

‘so that means-’

‘piece it together, oikawa. did ya get brain damage or something? babe, call the doctor’

oikawa screamed

a/n: lol look WHO ROSE FROM THE GRAVEEEEEEE :) anyways. i really want to deeply apologize to everyone for taking an unexpected break and i shouldve told you guys and im really sorry :( everythings just chaotic lmao and im just like taking a breath for a second uwu and im so AMAZED at how many people still follow me even tho ive been gone for so long like bls yall are real ones :’) i love you all and the req box is still closed at this time as i need to finish the ones i have first soo thankyou for reading thiss and hopefully ill update soonerr!!! :)))

also not me completely messing up my kuws and missing 8 and 9 in my masterlist and having a mindblowing realization that i have 10 keeping up with seijoh fics

[starrysupercell]

Happy Stu's Day, everyone! (Because.... Tuesday=Stu's Day, it's the law.) It's short, but I got a couple more ideas for this scenario with Stu + the Gamers. ...I just gotta decide WHERE in the park they're gonna head to, lmao.

Face Value 3

~~~

"Okay, there we go." Brock closed the arcade cabinet's door (a regular arcade machine, not 8-Bit. That's an important distinction.) and stood up. "The ground wire was the problem." Brock said proudly, "It wasn't actually connected to..." He trailed off after he looked over at his friends. His very lazy friends.

Rico was sprawled back on a beanbag chair, messing with a paddle ball. 8-Bit sat on the ground, his screen showcasing the latest video game he was playing.

Brock frowned, "Slackers!" Rico glanced over at that accusation. "What?" He asked.

"You're on the clock! So get to work, the both of you! Wipe down the machines, or start up this one up that I just fixed. Do something!" Brock scolded.

"Nobody's even walked in today." Rico groaned. Brock wasn't impressed. Rico shrugged and flung his paddle ball aside. "Fine." He looked over at 8-Bit.

The stocky machine continued to focus on his gameplay, relying on the unspoken excuse of not being able to hear Brock's demand over electronic beeps. He just needed a few more seconds. He almost had this level's high score beaten....!

Clonk, clonk.

Rico chose that moment to pound a fist twice on his head, surprising him long enough to jump straight into an enemy, losing a life and ruining his streak.

There was a pause of disbelief after the dying animation played, then 8-Bit's face slowly rolled up into view, frowning at Rico. "Why."

"Ha-ha." The taller robot said, standing up. "You heard him."

8-Bit grumbled, standing up and thinking of a way to somehow get back at the bot.

Brock laughed, his irritation easily melting away. "Okay, just at least look busy. You know we'll get in trouble if we're 'loafing.'" He used air quotes on the last word.

Before the three could go about their ways to make up three new chores however, there was loud screeching that came from outside.

All three looked toward the dark glass entrance of the arcade in confusion before heading to it. They didn't really think about the order they would go through, so they sort of squeezed by each other. Once the gamers were out on the sidewalk, they looked around to find the source of the sound.

Brock was squinting until he pushed his glasses down over his eyes. A robot veered wildly around the corner of their building. The bot noticed them and one thought went through his processor. Impress them.

"Oh, there--" Brock pointed blankly before Rico grabbed his arm to pull him back from the danger zone. He then placed a hand flat against 8-Bit's screen to push him away too. Fittingly, Rico was great at calculations, a fact he took great pride in for battles. Of course he would look out for his friends in times like these. He was so busy patting himself on the back mentally, he forgot to step back out of the danger zone himself.

The robot, which by now the three saw and recognized as Stu, was delighted to see the easy-to-see obstacle in the form of them. What better way to make his entrance complete than a dazzling trick?

Stu weaved in between Brock and Rico, (giving Rico a quick tap on his face), before dashing in between Rico and 8-Bit, streaking blue flames behind him. He kicked off the curb and used the stocky machine to propel himself forward.

With a screech of his wheel, Stu completed his final spin in front of his audience of three, his hands thrown up to showcase the flashy fireworks.

8-Bit was clapping in a surprisingly non-sarcastic way-- he had such an awe for performers. Stu was far from an exception, and in fact, he had been looking forward to another chance to visit the Stuntbot's show.

Brock was grinning. "Very impressive!"

Ricochet was more annoyed than anything, flicking the spot on his face where Stu had poked him. In the first place, 8-Bit always threw a hissy fit when Rico would use him as a momentum booster. Second, Brock sounded genuinely impressed. Like, he's never seen someone weave a couple of traffic cones and spin!? "I think you missed a few spots. There isn't fire or skidmarks everywhere on the road." He said flatly.

"Thank you, th-thank you!" Stu bowed with a smile. "I'm here today to greet my b-b-biggest fan!"

Me? 8-Bit wondered in surprise.

Stu rolled forward and threw an arm around Rico's shoulders. "Give it up, f-for Rico!!"

Rico looked at him with total confusion. "What."

"I don't me-ean to emb-b-arrass you in front of your f-friends, pal!" Stu leaned over to Brock, placing a hand over the bottom half of his face as if to whisper, though it was made redundant for the facts that he didn't have a mouth, nor did he lower the volume of his voice. "I c-c-couldn't say no to him. How can I refuse someone who w-w-went backstage and begged me to make a person-a-al appearance?" He asked.

"That's...not what happened." Rico said.

Brock laughed, "Oh, yeah. No, we got it. He's nonstop going on about you, you know?"

8-Bit was frowning and was very offended. He was the true fan here! Rico nonstop complained down to the very model Stu was-- afraid of being outdated no doubt. And when exactly did he go backstage!? The arcade machine was about to speak up and rant as much, but Stu gave a laugh.

"J-j-just as I expected! A shy fa-an. No matter, y-you don't have to worry a-about telling me how m-much you ad-do-dore me! Spectacular Stu is here to sp-spend the day with y-you!"

"Is that what you got from our talk?" Rico asked.

Stu was about to respond when Brock hummed. "Sorry, Stu. We can't really close for the day, even if it is dead--"

"O-oh." The ghost of the thought of this being a wasted trip began to rise, because clearly nobody wanted him here. Imposing now would just be desperation--

"--but we can take an early lunch. I'll close up, and then we can all head somewhere. If you don't mind us tagging along with you and your biggest fan's outing." Brock finished suggesting, with a wink that nobody could even see.

"Oh!" Stu brightened up again as he let go of Rico and gave a few short hops to stand in front of the Trio again. "The more the m-m-merrier is what I always say! It'd be sp-splendid!"

"Gotcha!" Brock said, patting his pockets. Oh, where were the keys-? he turned to head inside to grab them. "Be right back!" He called out.

Stu waved, and addressed Rico "S-so, my biggest fan! W-w-what do you want to do today f-first?" He asked joyously.

Rico was speechless. He could also feel 8-Bit's looming glare on him. Everyone in the park knew how much of a grudge the machine could hold. Today was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

Well, he'll play along. After all, despite his initial reaction to Stu, how could he remain lukewarm to his positive reception? As for 8-Bit, well, he'll deal with his pettiness later. He thought about where he wanted to go. "How about...?"

[wherearemyglassesbro]

A h/etalia Umbrella academy au but it isn’t actually one, it’s just inspired by UA kinda...idk

//Uh keep in mind that this is going straight from the drafts onto your dash and uhhh there will for sure be spelling errors so don’t roast me lmao

Roman ‘Roma’ Vargas: An eccentric billionaire who founded the Academy of the World’s Finest (or the AWF for short). He gets bored very quickly and went from buying rockets to building hotels to managing casinos to buying children. A very crazy sequence of events! (Roma has many secrets but I don’t feel like fleshing it’s out rn this is just the bare bones of this just for fun!! And if you’ve seen both seasons of UA you probably already knows what you need to know). One faithful day, October 1st 1989, multiple beautiful babies were born from women who were not pregnant the day they were born. This phenomenon made itself known to Roma and he was off to find as many of these children that he could! He sent his staff all over the world to buy these children. He successfully purchased 9.

Number 1, purchased for $10,000 in Las Vegas: Number 1 was picked to be number 1 because Roma thought he was such a strong looking baby. Alfred was actually purchased fifth out of his siblings but no one knows that except Roma himself. Alfred, from a young age, was able to cause an obscene amount of damage. When he held Roma’s hand while learning to walk, he crushed the bones in his hand. When he kicked a soccer ball down the hallway, it went through the wall like a meteor. When he knocked on Arthurs door to bother him, the door snapped in half (and Art screamed bloody murder). He has an insane amount of strength without even trying! It was very hard for him to get a handle on it because he’s so spontaneous and isn’t really one to think before acting but once he and hs siblings started training for hero work?? That was his motivation to be better, to control his power to use it against bad guys!!! He’s the golden boy of the family, he never disobeys Roma and will never, even now, say anything bad about him. ‘Hey! He’s my dad, he saved me from whatever shithole life I was destined to have in Nevada. I couldn’t be more thankful for my life! And mom, if you’re watching this...Thanks. I don’t know who you are but...Thank you’

Number 2, purchased for $25,000 in Le Mans: Number 2’s power presented itself only after he learned to talk. Francis’s power of persuasion is both a blessing and a curse for him. He’s struggled greatly with being ‘number 2’, he wants the same validation and attention as ‘number 1’ gets. He doesn’t think it’s fair. He often used his power for bad things arond the house like ‘J'ai entendu une rumeur that you broke every finger on your right hand!’ that was a very gruesome morning for Alfred and the scolding that Francis got scarred him for life as he was insulted and cursed out in front of his family. Even after that, he still kept up his happy exterior. He was also usually the face of the AWF, appearing on magazine covers which he may or may not have influenced the writers just a bit. His power is strong but he does not use it on Roma because he’s terrified of what would happen if he did!! As he’s gotten older, he’s falls off the wagon a little but he’s trying to make a solid recovery. Also, when he was 7 he found out he was born in France! He then forced himself to become totally fluent in French and taught himself to have a French accent too. Whoopie....

Number 3, purchased for $1000 in Sicily: Number 3 is a dangerous child, he was from day one. When he was born, he was presenting a 116 degree fever yet he was acting totally normal. His mother was convinced he was the devil and was more than happy to sell him off to Roma. Roma felt a deep connection to Lovi from the start....Lovi looked like him. He looked like he could be his biological son. Lovi got special treatment from Roma often but he still felt overshadowed by his siblings. I mean, a majority of his siblings are pretty blondes. He felt left out often. But he would channel that anger into training and cooking! He has a trick that he likes to do, cracking an egg into his palm and cooking it. That one impresses Alfred every time! Not that he’s hard to impress. Lovi would often push himself too far in his quest to be the best and snap at his siblings, leaving him even more alienated from them. He spent a lot of time around Roma and Feli, mostly Roma. He got a lot of one-on-one training with him and a lot of praise too. All he ever wanted to do was be perfect for his father. He set bad guys on fire, did interviews on live tv, set fire to a warehouse full of gang members, all kinds of stuff that he never would have done on his own. Stuff that he didn’t want to do. All so he could impress Roma

Number 4, purchased for $700 outside of Berlin: Number 4 has always been hyper and loud! But his powers suddenly developed over night, which was terrifying for him. Gilbert awoke in the middle of the night to pee one night and was met with a ghost in the bathtub. Naturally, Roma encouraged him to speak with ghosts and would make him go to cemeteries to talk to the dead. Ghosts scared him so he’d secretly take Benadryl to knock himself out but as he got older, he realized that he couldn’t be scared anymore cause these ghosts needed a friend :( so he used these ghosts to fight in missions and in return, he’d play games with them and chat with them, just being friend with the ones who had a hard time crossing over :’) he likes using his powers for good but feels like he’s taking advantage of his ghost friends sometimes which took the fun out of crime fighting

Number 5, given to Roma for free outside of Kyoto: Number 5 got a late start compared to his siblings. His powers took awhile longer to manifest and he had trouble learning to read. But once he caught up, he proved himself to be the smartest out of all of them. Smarter than some of them combined, even. Kiku still often indulged in his siblings antics but at the same time, he felt he was somewhat superior to them. He learned to poof himself from one side of the room to the other, starting off small. He figured out he could time travel one night when Francis and Gil were hammered and knocked a vase over. Kiku felt every muscle in his body tense, then a sensation of falling, then he was suddenly 10 seconds in the past!! Wow!! He caught the vase before it could hit the ground and kicked Fran so he fell down, leaving him to sleep on the foyer floor while Gil just stood there like ‘wtf...?’. When Roma started berating him for ‘getting too cocky’, Kiku threw a bit of a hissy fit and decided to jump to the future!! He did and landed himself in the aftermath of the 2019 apocalypse, unable to get back home cause he wore himself out and had no idea what he had even done to get himself there in the first place lmao sucker.

Number 6, purchased for $10,000 in York: Number 6 was an extremely fussy baby. All he did was cry and cry and cry, it was very frustrating for Roma since the other babies were somewhat easier to handle. Arthur was indeed a handful. When he was hungry, baby food tins and spoons would float out of the pantry and over to his highchair. When he wanted to torment his siblings, he’d take their things and throw them across the room with his mind. When a sinking was annoying him, he’d simply lift them up and shove them out of his room. Easy. He is probably the smartest or second smartest of his siblings. He isn’t the most athletic but he spent lots of time studying, so much so that Roma had to constantly buy new books for Art to read to keep him mentally stimulated. He was often a voice of reason though no one listened to him. When fighting he was very useful!! He never needed to get close to the bad guys, he could throw them around without moving a muscle! The only downside is that it wore him out after awhile...Ugh. He avoided the media but did do interviews with his mask on, encouraging kids his age to stay in school! By the time Art was 13, he was taking college level tests and reading college level material so...he’s one smart cookie

Number 7, given to Roma for free in undisclosed location in Russia: Number 7 is too powerful for her own good. At a young age, Francis was told to convince her that she had no powers. This was done in secret, only Roma, the house staff, Francis and Kiku knew it happened. Everyone else was oblivious and left out of the loop. Vanya has the ability to shake the earth, to cause obscene amounts of damage in the blink of an eye. Her power was something that Roma could have never prepared himself for. So from that day on, Vanya was a ‘normal girl’. She watched from the sidelines as her siblings got to train and fight. She sat with Feli to paint or sew or just talk. She went through every day feeling worthless, like she wasn’t meant to be a part of this family. She channeled her feelings into art, painting canvasses worth of rainy cities or melting people. She made a series of paintings depicting her siblings’ abilities through chunky brushstrokes and vibrant colors. Each painting sold for over one million dollars. She thought her art career would impress her father. It didn’t.

Number 8, purchased for $15,000 and 10 cows outside of Oslo: Number 8 was always a quiet boy, he kept to himself and Roma thought he may be powerless as well for almost 5 years until lightning struck the house...on a bright sunny day...not a cloud in the sky. Turns out Lukas and Kiku were arguing. They were only 5 so they were just shrieking and yelling nonsense then BAM!!!! Lighting. Roma was so terrified but Lukas was giggling and shooting soarks out of his hands, his hair sticking up like crazy. He was always quiet and reserved, he spent a lot of time in the library or on the roof just looking out over the city. He didn’t like sneaking out of the house like his brothers and sisters did but he went ‘to keep an eye on them’...he always had fun though. He stayed away from the media and wore a mask that his most of his face so he wouldn’t be recognized. Sadly, in a tough fight in a hostage situation, Lukas was shot and killed when he was 15, right when he was starting to consider writing a book about hero work and how as he aged, he was becoming more confident in himself due to helping others. It was a tragic loss for his siblings

Number 9, purchased for $800 and a new car in La Coruna: Number 9 was successful from the start, surpassing her siblings in height very very fast. Her power just happens to be her speed. Carmen, as a baby, was a lot to handle since she crawled around the house at 40 miles an hour. Even her sleep schedule was quick, she’d take a 20 minute speed nap and have enough energy to run around for hours after. When she was introduced to the idea of being a hero, she agreed so fast that she nearly bit her tongue off. She always got her chores done quick, helped around the house, all of that since a task that would take 3 hours only took a few minutes for her. She was a great female role model and did many interviews for teen magazines to encourage girls to be their best, that has always been her message. She even wrote ‘GRLPWR’ on her cheeks in black paint before heading off to fight crime in case she had her picture taken. Roma wasn’t a huge fan of that but she didn’t care too much :) she has always stuck up for her sisters!! And she has always been close to Fran and Gil but as they got older, their interests began to differ so she found herself hanging with Vanya and Arthur more

Feliciano Vargas: Roma Vargas’s only biological son. He does not have powers and often felt left out when he was left behind while his siblings went on missions. He’s 2 years younger than the rest of them and is often referred to as ‘stupid little brother’ by Lovino which hurt his feelings. When he was a baby, they were like 2 and a half so they didn’t see him as ‘aww look my baby brother!’ They just found him annoying cause he cried a lot. Like his siblings, he never met his mom but he does feel good knowing that he will always have his dad. When he and the academy kids fight, he will often rub it in their faces that at least Roma is his biological dad. That really rubs salt in the wounds, huh? Feli has always gotten on well with Vanya, they got left behind all the time so they got to paint and play music together :) they made eachother very happy

Gilbert and Lukas: Gil didn’t really like Lukas much when they were younger cause Lukas was just...quiet and reserved. Gil is the exact opposite. But now that Lukas is dead, Gil pities him and hangs out with him. They trained a lot together but Gil got embarassed when they trained cause if someone were to walk in, they’d just see Gil shouting and punching at nothing so...They trained in the dark at 3am on the roof where they wouldnt be interrupted. Now that Gil is older, he can channel Lukas almostperfectly. Lukas has an almost totally physical form when Gil uses his powers, allowing Lukas to channel lightning the way he was able to when he was alive. Lukas doesn’t like doing that too often cause it’s a bit cruel, getting to feel alive when you’re not :/

Kuma: Kuma was a normal polar bear that was experimented on in a lab that Roma funded. The scientists combined his DNA with monkey and human DNA and after much trial and error, they were able to get his brain to process English. So he wears a collar that allows him to talk. He scolded the kids for running around in the house but then five minutes later he’d let them ride his back while HE ran around the halls :) he was like a fun uncle to them. He wore a bow tie :)

Wan yu: Roma fell in love with a woman from China when he was younger. She was studying culinary arts in Italy and he absolutely fell head over heels for her. But things didn’t work out. So once the tech came around, he had an advanced robot version of his first love created for the sole purpose of loving him and his children. She was programmed to be a great role model, compassionate, patient and...A good cook. The kids all called her mom or ma and even though she never technically had favorites, she was always fond of little Kiku. She was the one who taught him to read when he had trouble doing so and she’s stay up late with him in secret to help him catch up in other languages. The kids all had to learn Italian, English, Spanish, Greek and Russian bedore they were even 8 years old. Since Kiku took a bit longer to grasp that kind of stuff, she would sneak him down to the library to have one-on-one lessons with him. :) she was also very caring when it came to Alfred, she saw how hard he pushed himself sometimes and it hurt her to watch. She made cookies for him on especially rough days

Lukas’s death: Lukas’s death hit Arthur, Vanya and Gilbert especially hard. Arthur and Lukas bonded over similar interests, Lukas and Vanya played chess all the time and gossiped and Gilbert always thought that Lukas was the coolest sibling he had. His death was used as motivation for everyone else to continue training. Gilbert ‘summoned’ Lukas three days after his death and Lukas has followed him around ever sicne. Lukas wasn’t avtually summoned, he’d been secretly roaming the house for days and decided to just let Gil think he summoned him. Roma was depressed about his son’s death for a week or so but he never really allowed himself to feel negative emotions for too long so he was over it a bit...too quickly.

[ckret2]

Okay so I got an ask like,

anonymous asked: whose ur favorite Hazbin character? Like your absolute #1 and why?

and technically my answer is Alastor, but Sir Pent is such a close second that I gave my reasons for him too in that ask, and now I’m making a second post about Alastor.

Reasons I really like Alastor but like, only slightly more than Sir Pent:

- Honestly “I can suck ya dick” *IMMEDIATE BRAIN BREAK FACE* is probably the moment I, like, mentally latched on to Alastor’s character, and at that point I don’t think I even knew yet that the creator had said he was ace. It just... I could feel the aceness in my soul. Like that thing where Jedi run into somebody and go “oh you’re strong in the Force, I can tell.” That was just such a perfect and succinct ace joke, and by that I mean like it feels like a joke from an ace perspective. Like it was so relatable.

- tbh half my reasons for liking Alastor are “oh that’s relatable,” which is hilarious, because like... I don’t like characters because I relate to them, ever, but because I think they’re interesting in their strange/different ways. Alastor is the sole exception I can think of where half the reasons I like him is because I look at him and go “oh big mood.” Other ace or aro characters I’ve seen in the past just make me go “oh... okay. cool. nice, representation for me” and then I don’t really care about them. Alastor, though, the SECOND I learned he was ace, something in my brain went “FUCK YES. ONE OF OURS.” I immediately sat down and started writing a character study fic about Alastor being ace/aro in the exact same precise way that I’m ace/aro, and that was even before we got confirmation that he was aro. I was ready to go all in on him anyway.

- Half the reason I like his ace/aro-ness when I don’t care about it as much on other characters is because like... usually, when you get an ace/aro character, it goes one of two ways:

1) their entire character is built around/“in tune with” their ace/aro-ness, in a way. Most obvious when you have the stereotypical “robot/alien that cannot love,” but also seen in “character that is naive and pure and innocent and lustless,” “character that acts like an actual literal child,” “character that acts like a bad autism cliche,” “character that’s too cold or cruel or emotionless to feel love,” etc. And that’s boring, when they’re only ace/aro because the writer cannot imagine a character Like That being any other way, or because the writer cannot imagine an ace/aro being Any Other Way. 

Or, 2) they’re written as “too normal,” as in, like, NOTHING ABOUT THEIR PERSONALITY or life experiences or anything seems shaped AT ALL by the fact that they do not share an internal sense of lust and/or romance that most of the rest of the human species not only has, but also is obsessed with.

And Alastor falls in neither camp. He’s gregarious and talkative and puts on little performances wherever he goes, and he obnoxiously butts in on somebody else’s group project by begging for an opportunity to help out and then obnoxiously volunteers his friends who hate him to help with the group project, and he’s manipulative and dangerous and secretive and violent, and he hides his emotions and he disguises when he’s feeling weak... and also the quickest way to throw him off his game is to make a sexual pass at him because he’s blindsided so hard by it that it’s like for a moment there he forgot that sex exists.

And that’s what I want to see. A character whose personality isn’t based on/tied into his ace/aro-ness, BUT we can clearly see his character IS INFLUENCED by the fact that he views the world through a completely different lens from everyone else.

I can imagine that Alastor had to puzzle through What Is Love/What Is Desire, purely on a psychological “what’s going on inside other people’s heads?” level, as an outside observer incapable of participating it and trying to understand it based on anecdotes and fictionalized accounts and descriptions and conversations, comparing it to the emotions inside his own head and trying to go “so it’s kind of like this feeling plus that one and those, but More, and Different, and in that Other Direction.” I can imagine that as a kid Alastor “decided” to have crushes because he knew it was about that time it should be starting, and it hadn’t happened by then, so maybe what he needs to do is pick whoever he thinks is best-looking and get going with the crushing on them, right? I can imagine that Alastor spent his teen years waiting for his desires to “turn on” the way they did for everyone else, and being slightly puzzled when they took so long, but also okay with it because the more he thought about it the more it seemed like it was probably a nuisance—no one around him was someone he’d like to be attracted to—so he was fine with the fact it was taking so long, and he sort of assumed that it wasn’t because he didn’t have the capacity for desire but because none of his peers were desirable to him. I can imagine that he had his first kiss at like fifteen and thought it was horrible and gagged on it, and within an hour decided this was absolutely hilarious.

I can imagine Alastor having all these experiences—which are experiences I had. I’ve never seen another ace/aro character I can easily and naturally imagine having a single experience in common with me. Because no other ace/aro characters feel to me like ace/aro characters. They’re either characters with an ace/aro sticker arbitrarily and meaninglessly slapped on them, or they’re a walking stereotype about lovelessness.

- Besides Alastor’s spectacular Asexuelle Panique™ face, the other single line that made me latch onto him was “Why does anyone do anything? Sheer! Absolute! Boredom!” There are some very specific character types that I’m an absolute sucker for, and one of them is: extremely powerful character, at the top of their game, unstoppable and uncontrollable and unmatched, a loner who likes it that way, BUT they’re bored as hell, either because they’ve met all their goals or because they don’t know how to set any—and the boredom is eating them up inside, it’s driving them slowly mad, the sheer tedium of trying to fill one day after another with nothing to do is weighing down on them, if depression is usually compared to a heavy rain then this depression is like an endless empty waiting room, or depression like solitary confinement, or depression like an unmoving sun shining on an infinite flat desert, the depression of a completely empty hollow life leveled flat by infinite interminable boredom, a boredom they would do ANYTHING to get rid of, a boredom that’s like a withdrawal, a boredom that makes your hands shake and your pulse quicken with desperate need for the drug to stave off the withdrawal symptoms, but god, you don’t even know what the drug IS, you just know you NEED it, some form of stimulation, ANY stimulation, you’re going mad in this empty desert with your hands trembling and the withdrawal clouding your mind—

Have I mentioned that I have ADHD? Did you know that untreated ADHD can result in depression specifically due to chronic mental understimulation? I keep telling myself “bruh, don’t headcanon Alastor as having ADHD, you don’t even headcanon that he has any other traits that line up with ADHD symptoms,” but like. That one line. “Sheer! Absolute! Boredom!” I felt that in my very bones. There is desperation in that man. There is desperation in him that speaks to me like nothing else does. Like to the point that if it turns out that Alastor secretly DOES have a secret evil manipulative scheme going on I’m going to be annoyed/disappointed specifically because his driving motive isn’t boredom, lmao.

Anyway I feel for characters like that. I like to explore that desperate despairing boredom. I like to force them through that understimulation withdrawal, drive them to do stupid wild desperate things to try to get the stimulation they need. And then, when I’m feeling nice, I like to help them find a cure. Usually I imagine the cure is “dude, you’re such a loner that you’ve cut yourself off from the rest of the human race, you have NO human connections, even when you’re technically interacting with other people you’re still completely emotionally isolated inside your own shell. Make some goddamn friends and start to care about other people and their lives and you’ll find that the act of having other people exist in your world who matter to you will give you that stimulation you’re desperately missing.” Because these desperately bored characters are also desperately emotionally isolated. And they might be happy/content in their isolation—but they’re not doing anything to cure their own understimulation like that.

(“Hey OP is that how you cured your understimulation?” nah I got ADHD meds.)

- Remember everything that I just said about how much I love that Alastor is aro? Well forget everything I just said. Chuck it out the window. Bye.

So every once in a while I find a character that, for whatever reason, I really, really, really want to see pining. I want them to be in love, and I want it to be unrequited, and I want it to go on for years. I want them sobbing in private and then hiding it completely when they face anyone else. I want them to hurt so bad they feel like they can’t breathe. I want them unable to think about anything but their beloved. I want it festering inside them like an infected wound. I want it to hurt. Forever.

(“Hey OP do you uh, do you ever, yknow, want them to get their loved one?” yeah sure whatever)

For some reason, Alastor is one of those characters. Why? I dunno. I haven’t figured out my mental pattern on these ones yet. Maybe it’s specifically because it’s so incongruous with his outward appearance/and attitude. Maybe it’s because he’d do a really really good job at hiding it, but also I think he’s probably kind of a mess inside under his mask, and I think adding unrequited desire under that mask would mess him up anymore in really spectacular ways. Like a china cabinet that shifted in an earthquake so that if you open all the doors all the plates will fall out and break, except they’re already all broken inside of the china cabinet, but he’s in denial about that as long as he doesn’t open the door. I dunno, I’m speculating.

- On that note: I feel like he’s probably, like, hypercompetent and super powerful and super successful on the outside, but actually he’s a sort of screwed up dork who’s got no idea what he’s doing. (I present the furby organ as supporting evidence.) I like extremely powerful deeply feared dorks, ESPECIALLY when they have no idea what they’re doing.

- Also, affable villains. Totally friendly/sociable and totally evil.

- I dig his weird radio schtick. Like, Radio Stuff isn’t a thing I specifically like about characters, but on him I think it’s cool. Character gimmicks that can go a lot of ways and that you can do a lot of stuff with in character development are fun.

I think that covers all the important bases.

[zodiyack]

Billy Hargrove VS The World

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader Scott Pilgrim Vs The World AU (See note!)

Warnings: 7 exes that would love to kill Billy, violence, swearing, soft!Billy, I guess two sexual references since it’s Billy we’re talking about, smut mention but no smut, making out, SPOLIERS!, and cheesy pirate Patel

Words: 4947

Note: This is a Scott Pilgrim Vs The World AU because I love that movie and it would be interesting to write an AU involving that. Also this is a multiple part story due to all 7 exes and the battles. One ex per post! (maybe) I’m sorry for the unoriginal title lmao

By the way, yes. There is dialogue from the movie. That is in and going to be in this miniseries. As I said, I love this movie and I think most of the dialogue was funny, plus it is semi important to the story. And the exes are the same people from the movie. Sorry if you don’t like that.

o/o/y/f/c = One of Your Favorite Color(s)

Bold = Words From The Movie (that appear on the screen, if you’ve watched it, then you know what I’m talking about)

Italics with apostrophes = Billy’s thoughts (and Matthew’s thoughts but only once)

Italic = Used for a few different things, mainly enthusiasm/emphasis on words

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

link to the soundtrack on youtube ‘cause why not (a few will be in here I guess)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5 and 6. Part 7.

“Look.”

Tommy pointed to the new girl. Finally, some fresh meat for Billy. Or Tommy, whichever one thought of her first. Billy finally grew bored of the girls at school, he waited for one that was newer. Fresher. Cuter.

There she was. Her unnatural o/o/y/f/c hair sat on her shoulders. Roller-blades on her feet, her torso clothed in a shirt covered with a hoodie and another jacket. Her bag hung by her side, headphone strings leaving it and connecting to the headphones on her head. She didn’t look like most girls. Billy had seen most of them, and none had looked as breathtaking nor interesting as her. Before either teens could walk over to her, a boy around their age walked in front of them. She was gone when he moved.

“Weird...”

“I hear she’ll be at Tina’s party tonight.” Carol noticed the boy’s fascination with the new kid, sharing it. “We should go, it’ll give you the chance to learn more about her, Billy.”

“We’ll see.” He brushed off his thoughts about the odd girl, her choice of hair color and clothing, and her headphones that caused her mental absence from the world. Billy turned and walked away, continuing with the rest of his day.

. . .

Billy was stopped by Tina. She asked him how the party was going and if he needed anything.

“Hey Tina, you know everyone, right?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” She let out a small laugh. Billy didn’t know whether it was fake or genuine.

“Do you know this one girl with hair...” He grabbed a pen the same color as the new girl’s hair color, quickly drawing a horrible doodle of the girl’s hair. “Like this?”

“Yes, that’s Y/n L/n.” Tina took a sip of her drink, “Someone said she was gonna be here tonight actually.”

Billy’s hand that held the drawing went down quickly, his head snapping to the side and his eyes searching for Y/n. “What?”

“Oh Billy, you got the hots for her or something? I’ve gotta tell you though, I hear she’s a little hardcore-” Tina had looked down mid-sentence and when she looked back up Billy was gone. She turned her head with confusion.

Meanwhile, Billy was now walking through the crowd in search of his unique looking crush. His eyes and head shifted when he couldn’t see her, switching from left and right with each step he took. He didn’t blink, afraid that he’d miss her if he did. After many turns of his head and movements of his eyes, he finally spotted her. His hand clenched the red solo cup, squeezing it until it was crumpled and disfigured.

He slid along the wall, stopping when his body was right next to hers. He faced her, his body turned slightly so that she knew she had his full attention.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She turned her head to him for a second, facing forwards again and replying with, “Nothing.” before taking a sip from her cup.

“Hey you know swimming?”

“I know of it.” She took another sip, still not facing him.

He rambled on about the breast stroke and how he could teach her. Billy took notice of her silence, looking up to see that she was facing him with no emotion visible. 

“That’s amazing.” Her reply was just as her face was; emotionless and dull.

“Uhm...” He looked down. No girl could make Billy nervous. By now, he’d have them a blushing mess, begging for him to do whatever he’d like. So now that the new girl, on the first day she’d ever met him, just somehow managed to make him regret every word he said, he thought he’d gone soft. “Am I dreaming?” Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion and another emotion Billy couldn’t quite think of. However, it was enough to make him regret speaking once more. “I’ll leave you alone forever now...”

“Thanks.”

And Then

He Stalked Her

Until She

Left

The Party

“Dude!”

He grabbed Tommy’s shoulder, spinning him around.

“What?”

“She’s totally real!”

“Who?”

“Y/n L/n.” His gaze went elsewhere. Billy then speeded off to find Tina. “Dude!” She made a face at Billy’s sudden approach, but let him speak. “What do you know about Y/n L/n?”

“All I know is that she’s (ethnicity).”

His sudden dramatic and demanding of knowledge persona swapped to dreamy, just as it had when he said her name to Tommy. “(ethnicity)...”

“Why don’t you go talk to Sandra and Monique, they know more about her.” Tina’s head nodded to two blond women laughing in a doorway. Billy rushed to them.

“Lady-dudes. What do you know about Y/n L/n?”

Sandra spoke up first, “I heard she has a boyfriend.” Monique confirmed her knowledge, “Mhm, yes. Left him back in New York.”

Billy felt a bit annoyed, but still wanted to know more. “Yeah yeah yeah...What else?”

He asked other people, earning all kinds of different responses.

“I heard she kicks all kinds of ass.”

“She’s on...another level!”

“She has men dying at her feet!”

“She’s got some battle scars dude.”

“What about Y/n L/n?!” Robin asked, semi full of annoyance for her old friend.

“You know her? Tell me now.”

“She just moved here, got a job at the mall, comes into my work.”

“Does she really?” His tone was dreamy again.

A girl put her arm around Robin, “didn’t you say she just broke up with someone?”

“Did she really?”

“They had uh...huge fight or whatever?”

“Did they really?”

Robin slapped the other girl’s arm off of her. “Yes! But I didn’t want Billy to know that, Kate!”

“Yeah...I don’t know what it is about that girl-”

“Billy, I forbid you from hitting on Y/n! Even if you haven’t had a real girlfriend in over a year or whatever.”

Billy’s daydreaming halted to a stop. He let out a scoff and turned away.

“Hey, woah woah woah, my man Billy’s got all kinds of girls...he’s totally getting with an older girl sometime, right?” Tommy couldn’t keep his big mouth shut, as usual.

“Getting with an older girl or multiple girls is not having a real girlfriend.”

“She’s got a point.” Kate wrapped her arm around Robin again.

“I thought you guys weren’t friends anymore?”

Robin slapped away Kate again. “I don’t want you scaring off one of my old friends now that she’s in town, Billy. We all know you’re a lady-killer-wannabe-jerky-jerk.”

“That’s completely untrue.”

“That time with Lisa?”

“That was a misunderstanding.”

“That time with Holly?”

“That wasn’t what it looked like.”

“That time you dumped Faith for-”

“Okay me and Faith are all good now, right?” He turned to where the girl Robin had mentioned stood. Her cup was in her hands and her face was blank with wide eyes. She looked traumatized. Billy turned back to Robin.

“Whatever! Y/n’s just out of your league, let’s just leave it at that. Besides, I’m not even sure she had a big break up. She keeps mentioning some guy named Gideon.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is about that girl-”

“FORGET IT BILLY!”

. . .

“What’s this?”

“I don’t know, it’s a letter for you dumbass. Read it.”

Billy grunted and took the letter from his father, tearing it open and allowing his eyes to scan the page slowly. He mumbled the words as he read them. It was only Max and him in the room, so it couldn’t do much harm. “Dear Mr. Hargrove, it has come to my attention that we will be fighting soon. My name is Matthew Patel and blah blah blah blah...fair warning, mono e mono, 7 evil blah blah... This is... This is... This is-”

Max grew annoyed with her older brother. “What?!?”

“This is borrrinnnggg. Get rid of thisss.” He threw the letter into the recycling and walked up the stairs to his room. “Hey Max?” For once, he didn’t care about being an ass to the redheaded girl. He had a plan, and he needed her as an excuse to leave the house.

“What is it?”

“Wanna go to the mall?”

“For real?” Of course, he couldn’t tell her. “Let me get my wallet and I’ll meet you in the car!”

. . .

“Hello. Robin tells me you ordered this ice cream but left before she could give it to you, so here.” The ice cream that she handed him was indeed abandoned when he heard Steve say that Y/n was in the mall and would be hanging around Scoops soon. “You gonna take it? Ooor-”

“Hi, I was thinking about asking you out but then I realized how stupid that would be...so do you wanna go out sometime?”

“Um no, that’s okay. You can just pay for this, alright?”

“You don’t remember me, do you? We met at the party the other day.”

“Were you the swim guy?”

“Nooooooooo, not even. That was some total ass...I was the...other guy.”

“You know you need to take this and pay for it?”

“But if I do, you’ll leave.”

“Yeah. It’s how it works.”

“Okay well maybe, do you wanna hang out sometime? Get to know each other? You’re the new kid on the block...right, I’ve lived here...for a while so there are reasons...for you to hang out with me.”

A short pause was shared between the two. Y/n’s eyes glanced up to Billy’s with an eyebrow raised. He didn’t know why he felt desperate, but this girl was making him feel different.

“You want me to hang out with you?”

“Um...” He looked down shyly, but quickly looked back up to her face. “Yeah, if that’s cool...” His tough demeanor seemed to flee whenever she was present.

“If I say yes, will you take and pay for your damn ice cream?”

He snatched the ice cream from her and tossed it over his shoulder and into the garbage can behind him effortlessly, taking out the money needed and handing it to her. “So yeah, eight o’clock?”

So Yeah ( . . . )

“Why’re you just standing there?”

“Dude, I’m totally waiting on you.” Y/n turned to Billy, her hands tucked into the pockets of her hoodie. Billy didn’t know whether she looked offended or confused.

“Oh...I’m sorry, I just assumed you were too cool to be here on time...” In other words, he assumed she was like him. If you were at Tina’s party, then you were bound to be somewhat of a “cool kid” or a rebel or anything remotely relating to popularity. Then again, Tina loved handing out invites.

“Well. You assumed wrong.”

They walked in the chilly weather. Small talk slowly formed and they tried their best to get to know each other just as Billy had suggested. His nervousness didn’t leave him around her, and he was glad that no one else from school was there to see him make a fool of himself. ‘You’re just gonna get lucky and then leave her like the rest of them.’ No matter how many times he told himself that, he was too interested in Y/n. His felt something he wasn’t sure he had ever actually felt.

“So, how’d you end up in Hawkins?” Crap. He wasn’t even sure he could get to like him. Let alone be his snack of the week.

“Just needed to escape I guess...”

“Oh yeah.” He knew exactly how she felt. Or at least what he thought she meant by it.

“I got this job here and Gideon always said Hawkins was one of the cool places, so.”

Now Billy felt the need to ask the question that had been bugging him since Robin brought it up. “Is Gideon...your boyfriend?” It had been bothering him and filling him with a small amount of disappointment and worry.

“He’s...a friend.” Her gaze strayed away.

“Was he your boyfriend?”

She looked hurt. Hurt and uncomfortable. “Do you mind if I don’t get into that right now?” Y/n turned and walked to the swing set in front of them.

“Uh- it’s so not interesting to me...” 

Y/n kept walking, Billy joining her and attempting to not bother her any more than he had already done. She took notice and initiated conversation so that he wouldn’t feel as awkward and guilty, “What about you, what do you do?”

“Oh, I’m in between jobs at the moment.”

“Between what and what?” She moved in front of the swing and sat down as Billy started talking. He did the same but his movements were still shy and cautious.

“Well my last job was...a long story, filled with sighs.”

“I know plenty of those.” Billy took the opportunity to check on Y/n. His face slowly looked over to hers, which was looking up and admiring the sky.

“Is that why you left New York?” 

She looked in front of her, furrowing her eyebrows and nodding, “Pretty much. Just time to head somewhere a little more chilled.”

A cold breeze swept past the two. It was incredible timing.

“Well it’s certainly chilled here!” The wind gave Billy the perfect opportunity to try and lift the mood. A smile rested on his face, his joke seemed like one of the funniest things in the world seeing as Y/n had that same smile.

“Yeah...”

“It’s chilled as in cold...” Oh no. ‘Why the fuck am I so awkward?”

“Yeah.” ‘Oh dear god she noticed.’

The two decided to swing a bit more. With the conversation at a pause, that was honestly probably needed, Y/n and Billy swung their legs back and forth. competition started. They both tried to see who could go higher, Y/n won and smiled slightly while Billy smiled and chuckled with accepting defeat.

After they finished their fun, Billy and Y/n hopped off the swings for a finale. They continued their conversation afterwards, light droplets of rain mixed with small snowflakes falling over their heads.

“It’s ridiculous. Isn’t it like September?”

“No...but it doesn’t snow much in Indiana...ya know, I can barely see you?” His leather jacket was suddenly not projecting as much warmth as he normally would have anticipated. “This whole thing is an unmitigated disaster.”

“I think ‘Act Of God’ is a pretty decent excuse for a lousy date.”

Billy stopped in his tracks. A sneaky signature smirk crept onto his face and his usual attitude made an appearance. “So this a date, eh?”

She stopped as well and turned. “Did I say date?” He nodded. “Slip of the tongue.”

“Tongue.”

“Anyway, nights not over yet...” She turned back to where they were originally facing, “and there’s a thingy over here somewhere.”

“Thingy?”

Once again, she turned her head towards him. “A door.” She turned it back, yet again, but this time there was a door in front of them. Odd. She nodded her head over to it in a beckoning way. “Come on.”

Billy took her hand and was dragged by her over to the mysterious door.

Y/n Come Closer ( . . . )

Y/n took off her shoes and looked up at Billy. He sat at her dining room table, staring at her with awe and adoration. Y/n broke the silence and walked over to her cupboard. “What kind of tea do you want?”

He didn’t know why he took his jacket off. His arms were cradling themselves as one would when they were cold. And he was cold. “There’s more than one kind?”

She opened the cupboard. “We have,” she inhaled. “Blueberry, raspberry, ginseng, sleepytime, green tea, green tea with lemon, green tea with lemon and honey, liver disaster, ginger with honey, ginger without honey, vanilla almond, white truffle, blueberry caramel, vanilla walnut, constant comment annnnnd...earl gray.”

When her sentence was finished, Y/n turned to face a wide eyed Billy. “Did you make some of those up?”

She reached into the cupboard and pulled out a box, “I think I’ll have sleepytime.”

“That sounds good to me...”

She made the tea and set it on the table. Billy’s position didn’t go unnoticed by her, “Want me to get you a blanket?” Her eyebrows were raised with amusement.

“That would actually be...awesome.”

Y/n walked away into her room. A few minutes passed. More minutes. Billy was almost done with his tea. He wondered where she went. He wondered why she was taking so long. Billy decided to go into her room and check on her, making a grunt-like wheeze.

Facing her closet, she was taking off her shirt. Upon hearing him, she turned and raised her arms. “Dude I’m changing.” She didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he just walked in on her while he bra was the only thing covering her chest. 

Billy let out a small, “Ah, sorry!” and covered his eyes. “I’m just cold...”

“Here. That help?”

“Yeah...that’s very warm...What is that?” His hands slowly left his face. “Oh- kaaay...” Y/n was standing right in front of him with a cheeky grin on her lips. He leaned in and kissed her. It was finally happening. Their lips danced together, it felt like they had rehearsed the dance for so long yet in reality they were very new to each other.

The make out session with Y/n was all it took to break Billy. He was in love and he couldn’t deny it. As their passion turned rough and intense, he thought of how happy he felt and how he wouldn’t normally feel that with a girl.

They finally pulled away. Billy’s arms were around Y/n and one of her hands was on his shoulder, her arms laying loosely, and her other was clutching his side under his arm.

“Were you just gonna...bring the blanket from your bed?”

“I guess...” Her voice was soft, unlike her previous dead tone. Billy managed to shatter her “hardcore” exterior with a simple make out session. Or so he thought, if you asked anyone what they thought, they’d say Y/n managed to break him within their first conversation and then decided to let him in after touching her lips to his.

“Maybe we should...both get under it...since we’re both so cold...”

“What about our tea?”

Of course. The tea. Billy didn’t give a fuck about the tea. “I can...not have tea.”

The night went on with passion and...lust. They stripped down to their underwear and continued making out on Y/n’s bed. At some point they got under the blankets and Y/n leaned over Billy to continue their rough kissing. When it was “just about to get good”, Y/n pulled away from Billy.

“I changed my mind.”

“...changed it from what?”

“I don’t want to have sex with you Hargrove.” She moved over beside Billy, laying on his arm and snuggling into his side. “Not right now.”

Another, “Oooh- kay?” escaped Billy’s mouth. As usual, he didn’t know if he should feel hurt, angered or just plain okay with it. He longed for Y/n. She was his addiction, better than any drug. In his mind, he made the exception; feel bad about it later, stay with her for now.

“It’s not like I’m gonna send you home in this weather or anything, you can sleep in my bed. And I reserve the right to change my mind about the sex later.” At least he had a chance.

“This is...nice. Just this...” He was referencing their semi-cuddling forms. “It’s been like, a really long time so I think I needed this...whatever it is so...thank you.”

Y/n leaned over and kissed his cheek, “You’re welcome.” He wrapped his arms around her when she wrapped one of her arms around his neck.

. . .

Billy and his basketball team were just having some harmless fun. It was a game, and school was out for the day. No one could do anything bad, right? Wrong.

Read to show off, Billy brought the new girl to the gym. Max was dragged along since Billy was her ride home. He and his team were horribly distracted by the pretty girl now known as Billy’s first official girlfriend. Scowls and mean looks were given to Y/n by the other girls at school, purely out of jealousy. This morning, Y/n was walked down the hall of Hawkins’ high under Billy’s arm, wolf whistles and more sounded around them.

A weird looking guy stormed into the room, “MR. HARGROVE. IT IS I, MATTHEW PATEL. CONSIDER OUR FIGHT,” Y/n looked horrified. She was pale and breathing unsteadily. The guy who had announced himself to be Matthew moved his head slightly, nodding his hair out of his face. “BEGUN!”

He ran at Billy. ‘What is this kid on?’ Time felt like it was moving in slow motion. “What did I do...?” His voice was slow. He really was moving in slow motion. “What do I do...” Matthew launched himself into the air with his fist raised. He aimed himself to punch at Billy.

Tommy gripped the shoulders of the boys next to him, leaning forward and yelling with entertainment. “Fight!”

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed. His fists clenched. He threw the basket ball to the side and shifted to a fighting stance. He blocked Matthew’s punch with his arm and reversed their roles. He swung his fist at Matthew’s face, somehow knocking him to the side of the room. Tommy, Max and Y/n’s eyes widened, as well as everyone else’s in the room.

Matthew still refused to give up. He jumped in front of Billy, “Alright! Alright...”

Max yelled from the bleachers. “Watch out!” They all turned to her. “It’s that one guy.”

“Ha!” Matthew smiled mischievously and ran at Billy again. Sadly, some people just don’t learn from their mistakes. Billy threw an uppercut to Matthews chin, sending him flying to the back of the room. Billy got in some extra punches while Matthew was still down. The two landed in front of each other, most of the people in the gym now gathered around them.

Matthew blew dust off his shoulders and turned to Billy before laughing a laugh that could’ve been mistaken for a villain’s. They started to circle each other, Mathew taking a step to the left and Billy taking a step to the right, “Well well well...you’re quite the opponent.” His neck moved left and then moved back to the right after each syllable when he said, “Hargrove.”

“Who the hell are you anyway?”

“My name,” he swung his right arm up into the air, his left clenched in a fist that met his collar bone. “is Matthew Patel! And I’m Y/n’s FIRST,” Matthew lifted his pointer finger on his left hand and moved his arm to the side. He moved his fingers so that his pinky, ring and middle fingers were out, his thumb and pointer finger touching so that the tips were smooshed together. He turned back to Billy, “evil ex boyfriend.” His shoulders moved up and down one at a time when he said boyfriend. When his hand went down, he let out a growl.

“Her what?” Everyone’s heads turned to Y/n.

She turned to Max and the other people on the right of her. Y/n nervously smiled, “Anyone need a drink?”

A fight initiated between the two boys, fists and feet being used. The grunts coming from both males were loud. Surely, at least one of them would have bruises after this.

Max made a face of massive confusion, looking around for any clues of the situation. Her older brother kept fighting the abnormal kid. After a few more swings, Billy, again, realized how confusing this really was. He wanted to ask beforehand, but this Matthew guy was really determined to teach Billy a lesson.

“Wait!” He held out his hand in a stopping motion. “We’re fighting over Y/n?” He personally had no problem with it, but the “Evil Ex” thing was getting to his head.

Matthew lowered his fist slightly, “didn’t you get my letter explaining the situation?”

“I skimmed it...”

Max squeezed her eyes shut and clicked her tongue. “Mm mm.” She shook her head with her disconfirming noise.

Matthew only seemed to grow madder. “You will pay for your INSOLENCE!” He threw kick after kick after kick, all of which were blocked by Billy. The anger fueled him to the point where Billy could only do few attacks with little time. Just as Billy was gaining the upper hand, Matthew socked him square in the face with both fists, then his right foot with a jump spinning kick.

The people in the crowd behind Billy caught him when he fell backwards from the attack, pushing him forwards and urging him to continue with the fight. Matthew backed up one foot at a time and did weird dance, finishing it off with pulling his coat forward a bit so the dust came off of it and tilting his left foot upwards.

“Hey.” Max leaned forward, gaining the attention of two boys as well as everyone else in the gym. “What’s up with his outfit?”

“Yeah. Is he a pirate?” Laughter flooded the room at Tommy’s observation.

Billy was also curious. “Are you a pirate?” He asked Matthew in a simple and genuinely asking way. Unfortunately, Matthew looked caught off guard and offended.

“Pirates are in this year!” He wasn’t shouting, but he said it with a sassy and upset tone. “Gah!” This time he did shout. His fist was aimed at Billy, and his feet were already moving forward.

More attacks were made. Billy finally did have the upper hand. After Matthew tried to hit Billy’s face again, Billy caught his arms and held them to his chest. His eyes and head turned to Y/n. He was pissed off now. “You really went out with this guy?”

Everyone faced Y/n now. “Yeah.” She stood up and leaned forward, “In the 5th grade.”

Silence. Billy looked around, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, he spoke up again, “And?”

She sighed. “It was football season and for some reason, all the little jocks wanted me. Matthew was the only nonwhite nonjock boy in town, so the two of us joined forces and we took 'em all down. We brawled and scrapped, fought for hours. Nothing could beat Matthew’s mystical powers. We only kissed once. After a week and a half, I told him to hit the showers.”

Matthew was full of rage. His furrowed eyebrows and reddened skin could do nothing but confirm that statement.

“Dude wait- mystical powers?” Billy was confused. Unluckily for him, Matthew took advantage of his distracted state and broke free from his grip. Music started playing in the background. Matthew pushed Billy and turned to Y/n, holding out his pointer finger and pointing at her. The veins on his forehead were bulging.

“You’ll pay for this,” He paused for a second. Y/n was visibly afraid. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was was ajar. Matthew finished his sentence with a slight raspy sound to his voice, “L/n.” He swiftly turned to Billy and started dancing and singing. It’s a cringey dance and song to say the least.

“If you want to fight me,”

Max made the same confused face as she had previously. “What!?” She knew it was dumb to pick a fight with Billy, but to sing and dance while doing so? And to get her exes together so they could fight Billy? Were they that dumb?

“Hah! You’re not the brightest.

You won’t know what hit you,

in the sligh-igh-ightest.”

He made sounds with his mouth, floating into the air. Black and white colored girls, kind of like those old animations on tv, were summoned around him. They looked like someone wanted to make demon girls but was a perverted guy who loves hipsters.

“This guy’s good-” One of the basketball team members spoke. He too was wide eyed and confused as fuck.

“Me and my fireballs,

my demon hipster chicks!”

Looks like he was right about hipsters.

“Tell ‘em Matty.” They had a seductive-like voice. With a closer look, Billy could see that their eyes were like snakes. Their teeth were sharp too.

“I’m talking thee talk,

‘Cause I know I’m slick!” He winked before his weird demons spoke again.

“S-L-ICK.”

“Fireball-balls!” He threw the fireball at Billy, who thankfully dodged it in time. Gasps were heard around the room. At least it wasn’t just Billy seeing this shit. “Take this sucker out!” More flames erupted from his hands, shooting at Billy again.

“We’ll show him

What we’re all about!”

“That doesn’t even rhyme!” Billy finished off his sentence by throwing the now broken ring from the hoop at Matthew like a frizzbe. It hit him in the head and caused him to flip backwards a bit. His demons disappeared and it was his turn for his eyes to widen.

‘This is impossible. How can this be?’

Somehow, Billy heard and responded to Matthew’s thoughts with his own, ‘Open your eyes. Maybe you’ll see.’ He jumped at Matthew and returned the punch that had formerly knocked him back into the crowd.

Though, something strange happened this time. When Billy’s fist made contact with Matthew’s skin, he slowly fell a bit, but when he hit the ground, his body turned into 9 quarters. Everyone except for Tommy, Max, Carol, Billy and Y/n continued acting normal. The difference with them and the 5 others were that they had no memory of this “Matthew Patel” or of any fight. The damage in the gym was restored, but still. The 5 of them knew what happened and didn’t know quite yet that no one else did.

“Sweet! Coins!”

“Coins that’re mine, shortstack.” Billy took the remains of Matthew from the poor kid holding them. He walked outside, following the other 4 to discuss what just happened.

[venusxxlangdon]

How would Outpost Michael react to someone he’s interviewing being not afraid of his scare tactics? She’s not intimidated whatsoever and challenges him in his game of wits? Like I need a Drabble. Would he be turned on? Would they fuck?

words: 2.1k

warning: lots of talking lmao

gif: @micheallangdons

You’d been sitting in front of him for what it seemed like an eternity. The man behind the desk studied your folder attentively, long fingers flipping through the pages pensively, eyebrows frowned in concentration. The only sounds disturbing unpleasant silence between you two were the ticking of the clock and his occasional hums when he would find something particularly interesting in your profile and circle the lines with a red sharpie, adding little notes here and there with intricate handwriting of his. You wondered why he had not done his research before having invited you. “It would have saved so much time”, you thought in annoyance, lacing your fingers together and placing them on your knee. 

Trying not to stare at his chiseled face caressed by the flames of numerous candles that were all over the room, you still could not help yourself but occasionally shoot snotty little side glances at him, eyeing the way his chest clothed in a black jacket and a dress shirt rose and fall heavily. You sighed and rested your head on your hand, tapping the fingers of your left hand against your knee impatiently.

“What’s the hurry?” his low, velvet baritone suddenly thundered through the room. He asked without lifting his eyes from the papers and put another checkmark on the sheet.

You immediately straighten your back and put your chin a bit too high than it was necessary, hoping that your body language would trick him into believing that you weren’t bored to death with an endless waiting. Sliding your hand down your thigh, you adjusted your dress, smoothing the imaginary wrinkles out.

“What? No, nothing,” you said and leaned back on your chair, ready to meet the stare of the icy blue eyes. Michael, however, did not spare a glance at you. He hummed in response, put the papers back in the folder, and placed it aside on the oak table.

“I can sense your body vibrate with impatience,” he finally looked at you, and for a moment it felt like the floor disappeared below you.  You licked the corner of your mouth with a tip of your tongue and squeezed the corner of the lace that was adorning the hem of your dress with your fingers, trying to remain calm and unbothered, or at least to seem that way.

“Well, I’ve been sitting here for,” you glanced at the antique clock above his blonde head, “twenty minutes, and my interview hasn’t started yet. I wonder if maybe I could come another time?”

He arched his eyebrow at you.

“There might not be another time, Y/N,” he mused, and even though you would never admit it to yourself, your stomach flattered at the way he pronounced your name. Plump lips moved slowly, his silver tongue savoring every letter that dripped from his mouth like the sweetest syrup. “If I decide so.”

He leaned back, mimicking your position, and placed his right elbow on the armrest, caressing his cheek with his bony fingers. The flames danced beautifully in the cut of his rubies. You did not say anything in response, waiting for him to continue. It was better to find out what he was up to first: if he used a soft approach or preferred to force his interviewees into obedience. The right strategy was a dangerous thing especially in the skillful hands, and you knew it like nobody else.

Michael nodded at the file.

“You have a reputation of a very short-tempered person,” he opened it on the first page where there was a picture of you and some basic information. “Starting from high school and then through university, your professors described you as “bald, rebellious,” he flipped through the pages lazily, “insurgent, passive-aggressive,” he smirked and slightly tilted his head to the side, blue eyes scanning through the notes he had made.

Your jaw tensed at his words. Was he trying to provoke you?

“I’m aware of what kind of a person I am, Mr. Langdon,” you said, twisting the silver band around your index finger from side to side impassionately. “Is it all you invited me here for?”

Michael licked the inside of his cheek and you saw his tongue outstretching the skin of it, making it look as if there was a cock in his mouth. You mentally slapped yourself across your face for that thought.

Langdon scoffed.

“You wanted to be seen so desperately. Why is that?”

“It’s not polite to answer a question with a question, Sir.” You answered, trying to take the unnecessary thoughts out of your head, and watched him stand up from his seat and with the elegant strands approach your chair. He walked like a predator hunting his prey, slightly bouncing at the knees with each step. It took you some of your self-control to stay in place and not to start turning your head following his direction. Every inch of your body tensed in anticipation at the sound of his boots clicking on the concrete floor. His aura, deep and magnetic, enveloped you like a thick cape, making your heart race.

He stood right behind you; you could not see him, yet his presence was obvious. You missed the moment when you squeezed the armrests so tightly your knuckles bled white, but when his hands fell on your shoulders and you let go off of the handle, you quietly gasped at the stiff feeling in your fingers. His touch, firm and steel-like, sent subtle vibrations all over your body. You had noticed it about Langdon before: he was so tactile; Gallant slept in the jacket he had worn when Michael petted his shoulder at dinner the other day.

“Silly little thing,” he cooed, “you think you can run your mouth so freely?” His fingers brushed against the collar of your dress, outlining the trim of the delicate lace, mere inches away from your neck where the prominent sinew was pulsing from the adrenaline running in your veins. “You, just like any other human, are somewhat clueless about  how fragile your body is,” you were holding your breath as he spoke, the look of your e/c eyes lingering over his fingers. He was so close to you that you could see the faint monogram “ML” engraved on a chunky ring.

You did not know where all that strength came from when you parted your lips and said:

“You claim that you can see through our mundane guise,” your voice came out squeakier than you expected, so you cleared your throat and then continued, “but you are wrong, Mr. Langdon,” you emphasized the letter “M” by smacking your lips together and spitting the word out as if it was filled with poison, “if you think that I’m not aware of the presence of death,” he circled the chair, dragging his hands off of your shoulders slowly, and made his way back to the desk. He turned around to face you and leaned his hips against the table, placing his hands on the polished surface of it for leverage. His hair framed his face like curtains, as he looked at your figure from up and down.

He narrowed his eyes, full lips curling into a smirk.

“Am I?” the man who could call death his best ally, who was bound with it on more than just a spiritual level, felt deeply amused with your bravado.

You nodded.

“Remembering that I could be dead at any given moment was the most important tool I’d ever encountered to make the big choices in life before you destroyed the world and I,” you paused, “we, meaning the humanity, lost everything we could choose from.”

You did not know whether Michael’s eyes lit up on their own at your words or it was the reflection of the flames.

“Then why are you here if you hate it so much? I can end your suffering with the snap of my fingers and free you from the burden of living in the new world.”

“And leave me without a choice? Again?”

A moment of silence followed the question. Your words hang in the electric air. Of course, you would lie if you said that you were not scared at all. In fact, fear chained every muscle of your body and pinned you to your seat, but you were strong enough to control your emotions and at least, pretend that you were unbothered. At least on the facade. Michael leaned forward, bringing his angelic (as paradoxical as it was) face closer to yours. His eyes drilled through you, seeking for your weaknesses. Physically he was present in the room with you, but mentally he was far deep in your thoughts, ravishing the darkest secrets.  

“A man has no choice in his origins,” he hissed, “you all are cursed since the day you are born to sin, to destroy, to sow despair.”

You pushed yourself out of the chair and in a matter of seconds you appeared so close to him that you could smell the musky scent of his cologne. He did not expect this move, and if you had not been mere inches away from him,  you would not have noticed the way his breath hitched. But since you were in his personal space, you saw it all: his widened pupils, parted plush lips and the way his eyelids fluttered.

“Then why are you giving us a chance?” Unintentionally your gaze dropped to his lips and for a second, the thought of tasting them had crossed your mind before you tucked it in the furthest corners of your subconsciousness. To be this close to a man as gorgeous as Michael was equal to experiencing a number of heart attacks in a row. You secretly admired the way his locks flowed down his shoulders, his skin looked so soft and smooth that you wanted to leather it with your lips, caress it with your touch, but at the same time something about him was off. Langdon inhaled sharply, a carnivorous smile touched his lips from ear to ear, and a sudden realization came to your mind. You close your lids, breaking the eye contact.

“There’s no sanctuary, is it?” You said, clenching your fingers in tight fists, your own voice sounded foreign. “You fucker…”

His loud, high cold cackle roared through the room. It was a peal of mocking laughter that was supposed to scare you, make you feel hopeless, abandoned. Michael kneeled down before you and took your face in his palms, forcing you to look up at him. He was so pleased with himself. Running  his fingers through your hair, stroking your cheeks with his ring-clad fingers he said:

“Oh my little pet,” a wide grin on his face made him look like an obsessed madman, his touch leaving burning imprints on your skin. He could not get enough of your resistance, he was thriving off of the anger boiling within you, he looked forward to unleashing, make it flood your entire being with its hellish waters. Believe it or not, but the indifference to the new world he was going to built made you more alive than any other resident of the outpost who had spent hours on their knees begging Michael to choose them. You had nothing to lose, and that was the true definition of freedom. “You’re a fighter, I like that.”

At that moment you wish you had possessed any magic abilities, too. You wanted to read his thoughts, crawl under his skin, become one with Michael Langdon in order to understand if he was bluffing or not.

“If you really think that I’m gonna believe any of your words, you are not quite a perceptive Antichrist that you claim yourself to be,” you fended off, noticing that you somewhat had missed the moment when his hands appeared on your things, the heaviness and radiant warmth of his touch tightening a familiar knot in the pit of your stomach. The tension between you two was excruciating, you could feel it with your skin, burning, igniting every sense of your soul, making your feelings more acute. You wished you could clasp your legs together to ease the ache and need between them, but if you did so, it would expose you and the game would be lost. Just like the remains of your self-control.

“Hmmm,” he smirked, digging his fingers into the drapes of your dress and squeezing your thigh roughly. “What if I told you that I could sense how hungry your wet womanhood is for me right now? Would that make me more of a perceptive Antichrist?”

“Perhaps,” you responded, wrapping your fingers around his wrists to take his hands away from your hips, “you could say that, but in order to check if it’s true,” your voice dropped a few octaves lower as you were about to share a secret, “you have to earn the opportunity. Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet, Mr. Langdon. Aristotle said that, listen to him.”

“Especially if the fruit is between my legs,” you thought to yourself, knowing that Michael was listening to your thoughts.

“He did not say that part,” he smirked, standing up on his feet and going back to his seat. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest as you waited for his next move. Did you cross the line? The swirl of numerous questions was buzzing in your mind like a hive. To your disappointment, the only thing Michael said was, “you’re dismissed Ms. Y/L/N.”

But as you approached the closed door and your fingers touched the silver knob, he called you by your name. You slowly turned your head at him. 

“I expect you to be in my room at midnight for the second part of our interview. I’ll make sure that after it the only man you’re going to quote is me.” 

this is short so I’m tagging a few: @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @divinelangdon @sammythankyou @wroteclassicaly @1-800-bitchcraft @ccodyfern @ms-mead @langdvnshepherd @sojournmichael

[1kook]

rotten

‣Kim Namjoon x (F) Reader

summary⇁ How bold of him to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, as if his presence alone doesn’t contribute to the distance your father places between the two of you. tags⇁enemies to lovers, strict but caring parents, daddy issues, bodyguard!au if u squint, mafia!au kinda, depictions of fight scenes, attempted molestation (nothing too traumatic), joon’s shady past that I don't even bother explaining lmao, teensy bit of angst, daddy kink, pillow talk, dry humping, unprotected sex, use of the pull-out method wc⇁12.3k !

this fic was....two moch..... also no i don't proofread I'm lazy :/ also ppl on mobile i swear theres a read more I'm srry

-

Despite your generally mild temper, nothing seemed to rile you up as much as the sight of Kim Namjoon on a Tuesday afternoon, easily breezing by the tight security that had been hassling you for over fifteen minutes now. He’d swept through the room like a spirit, not even a single eyelash batting his way, as they all seemed to be consumed with keeping you out of the bourgeoisie office that sat behind the rich mahogany doors.

Your father’s office, where he had explicitly warned you against visiting since you were a child, too busy to fret over you being in such an environment. Admittedly, it’s a concern many parents in his line of work have, but that doesn’t stop you from fighting tooth and limb every once and a while to come see him. He’d always been adamant that you stay away, desperately trying to isolate you from the terrors that usually came with his career in hopes of giving you the happy childhood you deserved. Despite how sheltered and spoiled he’d raised you, the curiosity that had first nestled its way into your brain as a kid never went away, which is how you find yourself stuck in this situation. 

Your eyes flicker over towards Kim Namjoon, casually glancing out the floor to ceiling glass panels that decorate the entire level of your dad’s building as he chomps on a donut, who is not technically the root of your strife, but someone who does play a pretty significant role in worsening your situation. 

He was your father’s prized protégé, a man not that much older than you, who had somehow been deemed worthy of being accepted into your very exclusive hierarchy, despite not having any blood connection to the family behind it. In fact, Kim Namjoon hadn’t had any sort of ties to anywhere when your father had first found him, so tragically young and broody after fighting in the underground (and winning) for the third night in a row. He was an oddity, everyone thought, because someone so smart and disgustingly handsome had no place among the heathens your father typically took under his wing. 

Unlike you, who strived everyday to finally be allowed into the family business, Kim Namjoon had easily slithered his stuck-up ass in, not necessarily becoming your father’s righthand man, but by the way your father treated him, he might as well have been. 

“Let me in,” you calmly breathe, the annoyance that had been caught in your throat doubling as you watch the fucker from the corner of your eye, his lean frame hugged tight by the custom pristine suit your father had gotten him for New Year’s. At your voice, his attention seems to finally snap in your direction, lips quietly munching through the donut as he analyzes your situation. 

Your can tell your father’s henchman are growing more and more anxious with every second you linger there, the strict orders from the boss weighing heavily down on them. Though you hadn’t inherited your father’s business—yet, you reminded yourself—you had certainly taken after his stubborn personality. “Sorry, Miss,” the absolute brute flounders, and the way he’s so gentle around you reminds you of the rampant sexism that goes on in this business, which only serves to fuel your anger. 

You’re about to spew off some degrading rhetoric about how people like him are only useful for their strength, when a smooth voice beats you to it. “Let her in,” Namjoon orders, and it takes everything in you not to jump when he suddenly appears beside you. Damn, he was good. 

Your jaw twitches as you watch him stare down the main guard, until the bigger man averts his gaze, stepping to the side. An awkward pause fills the room, and you should be grateful for Namjoon’s help, but instead, all you can think about is how you shouldn’t have to rely on him of all people for any type of assistance. 

He pushes the heavy door open, gesturing for you to step inside. You brush by without so much as a thanks, finally stepping foot inside your father’s office. Said man whirls around with a beaming smile on his face, one that is wiped off by the sight of you. Judging by the fact Kim Namjoon was lingering outside his office, you can more or less take a wild guess that your father was expecting him. 

“Sweetie,” your dad startles, jumping out of his leather seat as he rounds the desk on his charge to you. He grasps you by the arms, eyes analyzing over every part of your face for any signs of injury. “What are you doing here?” He interrogates once he’s completed his thorough inspection, eyes flickering back towards the door that Namjoon softly shuts. 

“I came to see you,” you say, voice meek and shy as you glance around the office you’ve so rarely visited before. You knew your father’s worries were justified, and the sheer terror that had consumed his face at the sight of you being in such a place fills you with both glee and guilt. 

Your father’s lips twitches upwards, only for a brief moment, before he’s schooling his features into the stoic expression he often wears around people he’s about to kill. You guess this is the same. “___, honey,” he exhales, stepping away from you as he adjusts his tie, “you know you’re not supposed to be here.”

Your mouth drop into a frown, and you try to protest. “I get it,” he cuts off, “and I’m flattered you want to visit me.” His words sound too formal and rehearsed, part of you wants to scream. “But you know you’re strictly banned from coming here alone.” 

Your lower lip trembles, because you’ve always naturally sought out your father before anyone else, a true princess from the get-go, and to see him push you away like this tears you apart. Before you can give some immature reply to defend yourself, someone else steps in for you. 

“If you don’t mind the interruption, sir,” Kim Namjoon says, face perfectly masked from any emotion as he carefully evaluates the situation in the same way your father does. Your father seems just as surprised as you to see him so calmly butt into your very intimate conversation, except he watches Kim Namjoon in awe. On the other hand, all you see is red. 

How bold of him to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, as if his presence alone doesn’t contribute to the distance your father places between the two of you. He probably sees Namjoon as an adopted son, you presume, one he’s always wanted because he’s a thousand times more willing to thrust a boy into the mess that are his work affairs, than to teach his daughter the ways. 

You’re so caught up in your mental tirade against Kim Namjoon that you almost don't catch his next words. 

“I would not be opposed to escorting Miss ____ between your office and home,” he offers, and you completely gawk at his sudden charity. “Of course, only if you would like me to, sir.” You absolutely would not like him to!

You father, on the other hand, absolutely beams at Namjoon’s proposition, completely impressed by such a noble offering made by his star pupil. His detached expression shifts into an array of emotions, first impressed by Namjoon, before turning to send a softer, fonder gaze your way. 

“That won’t be necess-”

“I can always count on you, my boy!” Your father praises, slapping one arm down on Namjoon’s bicep, as the other lurches forward to profusely shake his hand. You don’t doubt this is a regular routine he has stored for whenever Namjoon does anything notable. 

His attention soon lands on you, and you’re surprised when he lunges forward to grasp your hands in his, eyes excited in a way you’ve never seen before. “Isn’t that perfect, sweetie? This way, you can come spend time with me without the possibility of danger!” 

Truthfully, you know Kim Namjoon’s offer is probably going to save the rocky relationship between you and your father. Namjoon wasn’t your father’s protégé for no reason; he was possibly the strongest fighter your faction had seen in years, though his strength lied beyond his physical capabilities. He was disturbingly intelligent, his ‘street smarts’ extending into professional education as well, both of which became valuable assets applicable to any situation he may encounter. 

But the same irritation builds in the back of your throat, so sick and tired of others babying you when you don’t need it. You’re perfectly capable of traveling between here and your house on your own. Screw some glorified bodyguard. 

You purse your lips in the most genuine smile you can muster, and huff out an overly cheery, “yup!”

You’d taken the train to come see your father, forgoing the option of one of your many personal driver’s because you knew they’d all refuse to bring you here. However, your father is quick to put Namjoon’s newest task in motion, ushering the two of you out of his office before you can hammer out any details of what exactly this new arrangement will entail. 

Kim Namjoon is as mysterious as ever as he leads you towards the elevator, waiting for you to step in first, before sending the two of you into the underground garage parking. You refuse to break the ice inside the elevator, instead taking in his stern reflection on the elevator’s mirrored panels. 

Ugh. 

He’s unfairly handsome, silvery locks casually brushed aside to perfectly frame the curves of his face. His skin looks pillowy soft, and had you not had a raging hatred for him harbored inside your chest, you would’ve stuttered at the pink tongue that peeks out to glide over his plump lips. 

The elevator dings and you follow him across the garage until you reach a sleek Mercedes coupe, the lights automatically flashing on as you step closer to it. Before you can make a move, Namjoon opens the back door, stepping aside to allow you in. You roll your eyes, huffing your way inside the seat as you watch him round the car and settle into the driver’s seat. 

As you’re tugging on your seatbelt, his silky voice fills the car. “Which home am I escorting you to today, miss?”

You grit your teeth, pushing the buckle into place with more force than necessary. “My apartment uptown,” you mutter, petulantly crossing your arms over your chest. 

For a moment, you catch his brows furrowing in confusion, as he chooses his next words carefully. “You do not wish to be taken to the family home in the suburbs?” He asks, and you roll your eyes at the way he manages to sound just as composed. 

“No, I have things to do tonight,” you frown, tugging your phone out to confirm the evening’s plans with your girlfriends. You’re immediately met with a slew of gleeful texts, which you take the time to respond to as Namjoon pulls out of the parking lot. He’s silent for the remainder of the car ride, save for when he asks you for your address. You wrinkle your nose in annoyance as you begrudgingly give it to him, before your attention returns to your buzzing device. 

You’d been planning on going out to celebrate your friend’s recent promotion at work, giddy at the thought of finally seeing all your friends for the first time in a few weeks. The plan was to head to the exclusive club downtown, in an area your father had strictly forbade you from visiting. But the rumors were too much for you to ignore, and you finally gave in to your friends’ invitations. 

Namjoon pulls up in front of your tall building, though he doesn’t immediately unlock the door for you to get out. He doesn't turn to face you as he informs you, “your father would like for you to visit at least once a week, and had requested that you notify me of any visits at least one day prior.”

You scoff, and tug the handle for him to let you out. 

However, it seems Namjoon has more to say. “He is also aware of your plans to sneak into a club on the south side tonight.” Your breath catches in your throat, and you whirl around to catch his steely gaze through the rearview mirror. “He says you are not allowed to go, but,” Namjoon says, and his monotonous tone of voice makes you want to punch him in that beautiful face of his. “If you do decide to go against his rules, just know that there are people there who do not take too kindly to our family, and would not hesitate to let you know as much.”

The door clicks in the background, and you waste no time throwing it open. You glare back at him once more. “You are not part of my family,” you spit.

“Damn!” Jisoo wolf whistles as she watches you step out of the apartment building Namjoon had dropped you off at not even five hours ago. You ignore your friend’s obnoxious catcalls as you hop into the backseat of Sojin’s car, immediately bombarded by the rest of your goofy friends’ exclamations. 

“You guys are annoying,” you laugh, buckling your seatbelt just as Sojin speeds off, ignoring the honks from cars around her. “How are we getting in?” You inquire, skipping over any formalities. 

Jisoo shrugs, toying with the radio before finally settling on a station she approves of. “Mm, I haven't thought of it yet,” she casually says, and your eyes pop out of their sockets. She knew how nervous to were about tonight, especially since your father had first warned you against going anywhere near this particular district. You’d been hoping she’d made some plans for the group of you to get in. 

“Jisoo, don't be mean” Sojin scolds, seemingly set on going as fast as she can without catching the attention of any late night police. “You know how ____’s dad is.”

You’re thankful someone understands, and Jisoo eventually relents, informing you all that she has some connections to the owners of the club, and that you would all be guaranteed access inside. You can finally breathe easy, settling into the backseat conversation as Jisoo continues pestering Sojin; you have no doubt in your mind that she had her own little pregame while getting ready. 

It’s not long before the car pulls up in front of the club, you and your girls stepping onto unknown territory for the first time. Or, at least, your first time. The exhilaration that comes with disobeying your father’s rules (real rules, not like the stupid don’t come see me rules) makes you vibrate in place, so giddy and excited that you almost stumble over the curb upon stepping out. 

“Chill out,” Sojin laughs, pushing you in the direction of the entrance line, before Jisoo guides you off path, towards where two mammoth bouncers check IDs. You don’t have to worry about any of that, Jisoo simply flashing the two men an innocent smile as they let your group shuffle inside. 

The moment the door swings open, you’re hit with the overwhelming aura that comes with almost every nightclub. The same old vulgar vibe that you’ve been mingling with since you’d first become an adult, the raunchy music a familiar tune as you pushed your way through the packed bodies, gliding and pushing against each other. 

Despite the pounding acoustics, you don’t miss the low whistle Jisoo lets out as she files closely behind you, dainty fingers gripping your arm. “Check that out,” she shouts, dragging one arm up to point at an absolutely gorgeous man sitting at the bar. He’s stunning, you think, and by the looks of it, everyone else seems to think so as well. His dark hair is fanned over his forehead, brushing over his brows as his eyes scan carefully across the dance floor. For a moment, you think they might’ve landed on you, but judging by the sultry chuckle you hear in your ear, you know the inviting grin he flashes is for the pretty girl behind you. “Well don’t mind if I do,” Jisoo mumbles, slowly slipping away from you to saunter over towards the beautiful man at the bar. 

Her departure leaves you by your lonesome, you realize, your friends immediately separating to find their own fun for their night. Just as you resign yourself to babysitting duty (which you don’t really mind), there’s a soft graze against your elbow, making you jump. 

“Smells like weed in here,” Mina huffs, button nose wrinkling as she seems to root herself in place beside you. You snort, mindlessly wandering towards the opposite end of the bar as you continue mingling with your friend. “You know, I think my expectations for this place where a little too high,” she sighs, swirling whatever drink she’d ordered in her cup sadly. 

“Why? I think it’s nice,” you comment, flagging down the bartender to ask for a stronger drink. You listen to her as she goes on to complain about the club, citing her past experiences in better places to prove her point. You can sort of understand her, her disinterest slowly convincing you that you too have seen better clubs, her arguments becoming more and more convincing with every drink she throws back, you slowly following her example. 

Just as she’s whining about the terrible music, her words are suddenly cut short. “Holy fuck,” she gasps, and your eyes follow her gaze, struggling to see whatever has managed to cut your usually chatterbox of a friend off, but all you see are the obnoxiously flashy strobe lights in your eyes. 

“What is it?” You ask, squinting into the far side of the club, near the VIP booths, but all you see are people you don’t recognize. 

“___,” she whines, doe eyes clouding over with want as she seems to have zeroed in on what is probably her dream man. Suddenly, she snaps to attention, determined eyes locking on yours. “I need to suck his dick.”

Your splutter, hand almost knocking down your drink as she tugs you out of your seat and towards whoever her mystery man might be. “This is a you thing!” You hiss, trying to pull out of her grasp, but the power of a tiny drunk girl seems ridiculously Hulk-like. 

“So? What if he likes you?” Your eyes widen. “I would never live with myself if I deprived you of such a fine dick.”

“You don’t even know him! I can’t even see him!” You screech, a sudden lull in the music making your words seem too loud inside the club. Your cheeks flame, though a part of you knows no one is paying you any attention. “Mina,” you whine, shaking her hand off of you to no luck. 

She shushes you, and you can finally begin to see the outline of a man as you near the VIP area, the back of a pale head of hair being your apparent target. You huff when Mina finally manages to come to a stop, immediately ripping your hand out of hers. You look every bit the fussy child as you cross your arms over your chest while Mina makes introductions. 

“Hi,” she giggles, morphing into the classic erotic succubus as she bends over the back of the couch the man sat on. “I’m Mina, and this is my friend-” you roll your eyes, refusing to look at the gag-worthy exchange, “-and we were hoping you’d let us sit on your cock tonight?”

You choke, whirling around with flaming cheeks and wide eyes, frantically trying to rip a drunk Mina away before she can embarrass the two of you even further. “Mina!” You scold in horror, tugging her away from where she’d been lounging across the back of the couch, desperate to ignore the man she’d been flirting with, until the back of your mind registers a very familiar presence. 

“Miss ___,” a deep voice says, and you flinch, blood running cold as you whip your head to catch sight of the same chocolatey eyes that had stared you down through the rearview mirror that afternoon. 

Every alarm goes off in your head as you recall Kim Namjoon’s warning, reprimanding yourself for not heeding his words as you stare into his emotionless gaze. “Namjoon,” you flounder, and Mina’s squeals fade into the background as your cheeks flush crimson from being caught in such an uncomfortable position. 

His attention briefly breaks away to glance at Mina’s intoxicated being half hanging off of you, half sending him the horniest gaze he’s ever seen. He levels you the most Mona Lisa-esque look, and, just like the painting, you’re unsure if he’s amused or disgusted. 

Slowly, he rises from the couch, body clad in an entirely black suit with a matching black button up beneath it. His full height towers over you, despite the heels you’d donned, and you feel small and insignificant under his gaze. He eyes flicker to the couch, and you get the hint, slowly settling down your inebriated friend before turning back to him. 

“I warned you, Miss ___,” he says, shoving his lithe fingers deep into his pockets. 

Though you’d initially been frazzled by his presence, his condescending tone of voice makes something snap inside of you, your vision melting into red as you step into his space, jabbing a finger into his chest, briefly catching a whiff of his cologne. 

“Fuck off,” you seethe, and though you have to crane your head to look him in the eye, your anger does not fade away. “I don’t give a fuck off about what you said, Kim Namjoon. And I don’t give a fuck about what my father has to say about this. As a matter of fact, fuck you and fuck hi-”

Namjoon snatches your palm away from his chest, completely dwarfing it with his own as he tugs you closer to him, steely gaze on yours. “Your father has no idea you are here,” he exhales, the close proximity and the seclusion of the VIP area making it almost unnecessary for him to raise his voice above a murmur. “As far as he knows, you’re safely tucked away in bed right now, Miss ___.”

Your insides are still boiling, but you cannot deny the confusion that washes over you from his response. You’d assumed Namjoon would rat you out the moment you got into Sojin’s car. He was your father’s favorite underling, and, accordingly, his loyalty to your father was unmatched. The fact he had come to retrieve you without so much as notifying your father of your disobedience came as a shock. 

Before you can get more lost in your befuddled thoughts you push him away from you, shaking his grip off of you with disgust. He seems unfazed as he watches you fume, your friend almost forgotten. He looks away from you for a second, eyes meeting Mina’s, before she’s suddenly getting up to scamper in the direction of the dance floor. 

“Mina!” You call, turning to trail her, but Kim Namjoon stops you with a tight grip on your forearm. 

“Miss ___,” he says, voice uncomfortably close, and you can faintly feel his broad form hovering less than a few centimeters behind you. Your breath catches in your throat, his deep timbre enveloping every inch of you. “I suggest you return home before someone else discovers of your disappearance.”

You huff, his unwanted advice pushing you out of whatever trance his presence had trapped you in, and you pull out of his hold for the second time. You face him, trying to hide your breathlessness as you fix him with the most furious expression you can muster. 

Kim Namjoon seems as disinterested as ever, meeting your angry gaze with his own. You’re in a stare down then, crossing your arms over your chest to try and shield yourself from his scrutinizing eyes, which seem to be boring into the very core of your being as he waits for you to back down. 

Your heart thuds in your ears, every inch of you tight as you struggle to maintain your sturdy facade. But the longer you remain caught in his gaze, the more vulnerable you feel, desperate to conceal yourself from him and his bored expression. Eventually you’re snapping your gaze away, cheeks blazing at the immature loss. “Where’s the car?” You mutter, refusing to look at him again. 

Had he not already melted you down with his eyes alone, the soft brush against the small of your back wouldn’t have made you jump as much as it did. You let him guide you towards the club’s exit, making a mental note to make up some excuse for your friends, and hoping they hadn’t seen you leave with Kim Namjoon of all people. God, that would’ve been embarrassing. 

Similar to the afternoon’s events, he tugs open the backseat door for you, even helping you stumble inside after watching you uneasily shuffle on your heels. The door falls shut behind you, the driver’s door swinging open not long after. 

You try to ignore him as best as you can, focusing your attention on informing your friend’s of your early departure with the smoothest lie you can conjure. Namjoon doesn’t seem to be feeling any sorrow for ruining your night, and for some reason, the embarrassment you’d felt earlier begins creeping into your bones for the second time. 

Mina’s shrill voice replays in your head, her vulgar words seemingly on loop. You briefly glance at Namjoon through the rearview mirror, grateful he hadn't said anything about Mina’s inappropriate behavior. You can feel the blood rush to your face, and you quickly avert your gaze out the window, the city’s scenery quickly flashing by in the form of blinding streetlights and concrete buildings. 

It’s not long before you draw closer to your towering apartment building, Namjoon’s voice finally filtering into the heavy silence for the first time. “Miss ___, please do not hesitate to call me the next time you wish to visit your father.” You roll your eyes, toying with your purse as you prepare to step out of the vehicle. 

He pulls to a stop in front of your building, and the doorman rushes forward to assist you out of the car. You’ve barely stepped one foot out onto the curb when Namjoon calls your name again. You turn back, catching his eyes in the same mirror you’d been viewing him through all day.

You’re surprised to see a rare twinkle in his eyes, as he says, “I hope your friend has better luck tonight.”

Before you can reprimand him for saying such a comment about Mina, the doorman is helping you out, and you’re left a bewildered mess on the sidewalk as he pulls off. 

If your father was going to treat you like a child, you were going to act like one. It was only right that you took absolute advantage of Kim Namjoon’s wishes to be an absolute kiss-up to your father, and both men had encouraged you to do as much anyway. 

After your first day with Kim Namjoon as your glorified chauffeur/bodyguard, you’d begun calling him for the most mundane of tasks. Truthfully, it was a childish streak inside of you that wanted to diminish the time he spent with your father. (And, maybe, you also wanted to see another glimpse of emotion on that ridiculously gorgeous face of his.)

He’d drove you to and from your family home, even though he knew as well as you did that there were plenty other drivers who's entire job description was exactly that. He hadn’t complained, showing up to your building exactly twenty minutes after any call you made with the backseat door held open for you. 

Jennie’s douchebag boyfriend had finally broken up with her one Saturday morning, leaving her a sobbing, lonely mess. You’d called Namjoon up to drive you over at eight in the morning, and he’d shown up right away. You might’ve pulled him away from his breakfast, you theorized, the tiniest fleck of white powder curling around the corner of his plump lips. 

You’d called him to drive you to the nail salon and had made him sit in the waiting area for an hour, because you wouldn’t be able to call him afterwards with wet nails, you’d whined. You’d taken great pleasure in seeing his threatening figure nestled among all the other nail care enthusiasts. If he was displeased, he hadn't shown it, taking absolute caution of your nails as he led you back to the car. The only downside to your petty plan was when he’d had to lean over you to buckle your seatbelt for you, his face hovering over your chest so intimately you’d refused to speak on the drive home. 

Perhaps the most immature stunt you’d pulled was calling him at two in the morning, ordering him to take you to the gas station for chocolate chip cookies. 

Usually Namjoon answered your calls after the first ring, silky voice clear as he asked you where to, not so much as a greeting slipping out. However, on that night you’d almost hung up after the fourth ring, when a raspy voice had suddenly filtered through your speakers. 

“Hello?” Kim Namjoon had groaned, and your heart had stopped in your chest as you floundered for a response. There was the shuffling of sheets in the background, and your brain hadn’t kickstarted back up until you heard the delicious pop of his bones as he stretched, you assumed. 

“I-I need you,” you’d stuttered out, all traces of the malice that usually tinged your phone calls suddenly whisked out of your system. You realized the horrible phrasing of your words a little too late. There was a pause, as Namjoon let out a half-asleep chuckle that filled your ears as he glanced down at the caller ID. 

You could pinpoint the exact moment he realized it was you, the line suddenly going completely silent, only the static of the line present. Suddenly, a harsh cacophony of sounds filled your ear, and you almost dropped your phone as he coughed, before his usual monotone voice filled the line. “Miss ___, where to?”

All signs of the groggy Namjoon were wiped clean, and it was as if you were talking to a completely different person as he patiently awaited your response. Your brain racked for a response, and you begun spluttering the first thing that you could conjure. 

“The gas station, I want cookies, like right now, so you better get your ass over here as soon as fucking possible, ASAP,” you rambled, trying to mask your own embarrassment with the annoyed tone you usually took on when speaking to Namjoon. He sent a formal confirmation your way, and you hung up as soon as he told you he’d be over soon. 

You’d been planning on changing into something more acceptable by society’s standards, but you ended up pacing pack and forth as you tried to calm yourself before Namjoon’s arrival. In the end, the elevator was halfway to the ground when you belatedly realized you had remained in your ridiculous pink booty shorts and oversized long sleeved t-shirt. You cursed, hoping Namjoon’s tired demeanor meant he wouldn’t step out of the car tonight to follow you like he usually does, and you could slip in and out undetected. 

Much to your horror, he was, like always, waiting for you outside the door. Though he looked every bit the stone-hearted mafia member, you couldn’t ignore the softness that curled around his figure, present in the way his eyes were swollen, his hair styled sans gel, and the fact he’d forgone his usual suited attire for a plain black shirt that stretched deliciously over his muscles. 

You ducked into the car, refusing to meet his gaze. Even while he drove, you kept your eyes set firmly on your lap or out the window. That vulnerable feeling you’d felt all those weeks ago crept up your spine, and you absolutely hated it, especially when it was caused by none other than Kim Namjoon. 

The car slowed to a stop in front of one of those twenty-four hour mini marts, and Namjoon shifted the car into park. “You didn’t specify where exactly, Miss ___. I hope here is fine.”

You nodded, throwing the door open and letting yourself out before he could even unbuckle his own seatbelt. He said nothing as he trailed after you, momentarily losing you inside the artificially lit store, before finding you near the snack aisle. 

Your heart thudded in your chest, as your eyes blankly scanned over the shelves. What were you here for again? Your mind was in complete shambles as you tried to ignore the want that grew in the pit of your stomach, pushing it down with other thoughts instead. 

You’ve been spoiled since birth by your parents, anything you wanted being placed in the palm of your hand. You could ask for the hottest celebrity to come visit you, and your sneaky father would somehow pull the strings together. You had cars and apartments and clothes that people your age wish they could have. So why was your stupid body craving the emotionless bodyguard—the same one that you feared was tearing your father away from you?

You’re jolted out of your consuming thoughts when a body brushes against you. You immediately move to shift away, only to feel the other person follow your movements. “Alone, sweetheart?” A gruff voice murmurs against your ear, and your body completely stills as you feel calloused hands brush against the sides of your very exposed legs. 

Years of self-defense classes trickle down the drain as you become paralyzed with terror, hands clutching at the bag of candies you’d grabbed sometime during your mental spiraling. Your brain faintly clicks into place, though it sounds muddled behind the fear that grips at every part of you, telling you to push yourself away, call for help, something. 

Just as your vocal chords finally begin working with you, the awful feeling goes away. You whip around, briefly catching sight of Namjoon’s furious expression as he drags the man planning to defile you out of the mini-mart. You’re frozen in place as you hear their scuffling bodies grow further and further away, until the tiny bell above the entryway gives one final innocent jingle and you’re enveloped in relative silence, the obnoxious overhead music running quietly. 

Belatedly, your legs spur you into action, and you drop the plastic bag in favor of rushing out after Namjoon. The cold air whips at your face as you shove the door open, glancing back and forth to no avail; they’re nowhere in sight. However, the sleek automobile is still parked a few meters away from you, so you begin sprinting towards that, past an alleyway where—

You come to a screeching halt, eyes trained on the two bodies tussling in the darkness. You stumble closer, eyes struggling to focus, before finally making out Kim Namjoon’s lean figure towering over the man who’d grabbed you. You gasp when Namjoon’s hand comes barreling into the man’s face, the weaker of the two struggling to fight back, but you’ve heard enough rumors to know what kind of fighter Kim Namjoon is. 

His fists move at an inhuman speed, jabbing at any part of the man he can get. Just as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you catch sight of Namjoon’s livid side profile, his silvery locks falling across his eyes as he continues to beat the living shit out of the man beneath him. 

You’re not sure if it’s the want to see the entirety of his expression face-to-face, or if it’s the fact that you knew Namjoon would literally kill this man if you let him, that has you rushing to stop him. 

“Namjoon!” You shout, footsteps thundering against the gravelly pavement before coming to a halt a meter away, careful of your own safety as you recall the rumors that surround Namjoon; he was a rabid fighter when provoked, which explains why he fought so desperately to maintain his emotions in check at all times. You step closer, wincing after a particularly hard punch that leaves the man wailing in pain, blood spluttering out of his busted lip. There’s a splattering of blood decorating Namjoon’s face and arms, and you can undoubtedly say it’s definitely not his own. 

You decide to suck it up and reach for him, part of your childish mind still thinking that hey, if he hurts you, at least he won’t be your father’s favorite anymore. 

Your hands shakily settle across his rippling shoulder blades, careful to avoid his elbows as they swing back and forth, fingers gently gliding around until they’re loosely placed around the base of his neck. “Namjoon,” you call out, daringly stepping closer, until your chest is almost pressed against his back. 

Up close, his ragged breath sounds animalistic, his chest heaving with each gulp of air he takes. He must be at least somewhat aware of your presence, because his arms slow down until he’s just grasping the man by the collar, and you gag at the sight of the bloodied face of your attacker. 

“Hey,” you say, finally slotting your body against his, fingers softly dancing over his skin. “Let go of him, Joon,” you murmur, the nickname absentmindedly slipping through your lips as you continue pressing your fingers into the tight muscle. You become more emboldened when the man goes slack in his grip, and you lift one hand up to tilt Namjoon’s wild gaze away from him. 

“Look, look,” you say, turning his chin until his wide, unstable eyes are on your own. “I’m okay, Namjoon,” you hum, using the hand not preoccupied holding his chin to slide down his arm, pressing down with a lot of force, until Namjoon lets go of the man. “It’s okay,” you add, trying to repeat the same process with his other hand. 

"I-,” Namjoon chokes out, body tensing beneath your touch when the man lets out a low groan, blood dribbling out of his lips. “He touched you,” he seethes, and though his face is pointed your way, his eyes are flickering to the side, desperately trying to see his punching bag. Namjoon’s own lower lip trembles with rage, and you have to run a palm down the side of his face, quietly shushing him. 

“I know, I know, but look,” you urge, stroking his cheek until his wild eyes finally meet yours. “I’m okay, it’s oka-”

“It’s not!” Namjoon roars, turning back to shove your assailant against the brick wall of the mini mart. You immediately try to tug him back to you and your terrible attempts at calming him. “He’s not allowed to fucking touch you!”

“Joon, calm down,” you beg, instinctively locking your arms around your neck, throwing any reservations about your own safety out the window, your attention solely focused on making sure Namjoon doesn’t kill this man behind your local family mini mart. 

Though he’s blinded by his own emotions, he’s still aware of your presence, and the fact you’re his boss’s kid probably. Namjoon pauses, watching the battered man slowly sink down to the ground, one of his split knuckles coming to clutch at the trembling forearm you’ve strapped across his chest. 

“I have to kill him,” he grits out, fingers squeezing around your arm gently compared to the absolute brute strength he'd used to drag the guy out of the mart a mere five minutes ago. You tighten your grip, struggling to keep your toes on the floor as he attempts to shrug you off. 

“Let’s go,” you huff, mustering up the strength to yank him backwards, the two of you flying into the opposite wall of the cramped alleyway. Your back hits the brick first, and you yelp in shock, the sound seeming to catch Namjoon’s attention and he whirls around, eyes wide and frantic as he analyzes your expressions. His worry intensifies as he becomes desperate to assure himself he hadn't hurt you.

“Joonie,” you pant, taking this opportunity to finally reach the logical part of him, cupping his face in your hands, forehead pressing together. His nickname slips past your lips without much thought, and his wild gaze finally calms down at your soft voice, slowly turning into long, drawn out blinks. “Let’s go,” you whisper, and he nods, eyes finally falling shut, lashes gently fluttering against his skin. 

It’s a weird feeling to finally be in the driver’s seat of the Mercedes, Namjoon silently sitting in the passenger seat. You fix the rear view mirror, pressing down on the gas, as you shift the car into drive, pulling away from the scene. 

The drive back to your apartment is mostly silent after you tell him you’re going to clean him up. Other than that, it’s awkward, you nervously drumming your fingers along the steering wheel as Namjoon seems to be staring blankly out the windshield. You don’t bother to make conversation, not really sure how to bring up the overwhelmed Namjoon of ten minutes ago to the emotionless one of now. His knuckles are swollen, the skin pinched around his rings, and resting on his knees. 

You’ve been forcing Namjoon to drive you around for so long, the path to your building’s underground parking garage seems unfamiliar to you as you pull into a parking space. You shuffle out of the car wordlessly, taking the elevator all the way up to your floor in the same practiced silence that’s plagued you since the events behind the mart. 

It’s not long until you’re letting him into your spacious apartment, gesturing towards the couch as you scamper off for the first aid kit shoved into your bathroom cabinets. When you return, Namjoon has yet to sit down.

“Sit down,” you order, and he does. You kneel down before him, taking his battered hands into yours as you give them a brief inspection, before reaching for the wet rag you’d brought down. 

If it stings, Namjoon doesn’t say anything, letting you wipe the dried blood off his skin. The fact it’s not even his makes you want to gag, but you suppress the feeling as you push through your job, dutifully tracing the rag along his veins. Tugging his rings off is where the real struggle comes, his minuscule winces making you hesitant to pinch his skin any further. 

“Let me,” he says, jiggling a ring back and forth, loosening it up until he can somewhat pop it off his finger without too much pain. You kneel back and watch him remove his collection of jewelry. 

He’s ignored your gaze since the moment you stepped out of the elevator, and you duck your head just the slightest in a cliche attempt to look him in the eye. “You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur, toying with the rag in your hands. 

He snorts, and you startle at such a blatant display of emotion from Kim Namjoon. “I should’ve killed the fucker,” he mutters, tossing his rings onto the couch beside him without much care. 

You take his hands in yours again, trailing the cloth between his long fingers silently. Every now and then, his fingers will involuntarily curl up, and he’ll exhale harshly through his nose. You presume it’s him trying to suppress the carnal anger that builds up at the memory. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you give up a wise crack. “Well now I can confirm you’re not an emotionless robot,” you joke, though you quickly shut up when he doesn’t reciprocate your goofy smile. You purse your lips, hurrying through one hand before moving onto the next, his fingers involuntarily curling around yours. Your heart thunders. 

Just as you’re calming your racing heart, Namjoon says, “your father is going to be so disappointed in me.”

Your jaw tenses, your movements pausing as the words register in your mind. Before you can completely blow up about it, you spit out a curt response. “He won't be. You’re his perfect little protégé.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be disappointed in me,” Namjoon retorts, and you roll your eyes, the anger and jealousy that had been the root cause of your and Namjoon’s servant-like relationship taking refuge in the back of your throat. 

“He literally won’t be,” you huff, too worried about how disgusted your father will be when he learns of your weakness, and how he’ll use your inability to fight back as a leverage, citing it as another reason why you can’t be around the family business. “He’ll be sooo fucking proud you saved me,” you croak, your heart wrenching with sadness. 

Namjoon says nothing. 

You wipe his hands clean and apply the antiseptic quickly, your throat constricting with every passing second as you imagine the utter disgust that will certainly cross your father’s features when Namjoon informs him of tonight’s incident. Your fingers tremble as you carefully wrap his knuckles with a thin bandage, eyes growing wetter with each loop around his hand. 

When you finally finish, it’s taking everything in you to hold back the flood of tears threatening your waterline, and you’re hoping Namjoon will simply thank you before disappearing off into the night. 

You don’t want Kim Namjoon, of all people, to see you cry. 

“All done,” you murmur, patting the back of his hands as you rise to your feet. You shuffle to return the items into the kit, lazily tossing the bloodstained towel on top of the closed box afterwards. 

His hand catches your wrist. “Why do you hate me?” Namjoon asks, and it’s the first time he hasn’t spoken so formally around you, addressing you so casually. You inhale a shaky breath, a resigned smile plastering itself across your face, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“You have the one thing I actually want,” you admit, shaking your head at his confused expression. Now that you’ve seen Namjoon act like a normal human being, or, as normal as watching him nearly kill a man can be, the idea of him being some distantly stoic figure feels weird to think about. You sigh, placing the first aid kit on the coffee table. 

“I just wanna be close to my dad,” you huff, your words caught on a whimper that you bite back. You press the heels of your palms against your eyes, shoulders trembling with the sobs you fight to contain. “I’d do anything to spend time with him,” you choke out, rubbing at your eyes until you’re seeing stars, “but all he ever wants is to see you.”

A pitiful sob escapes your lips, and you don’t even bother feeling embarrassed in front of Kim Namjoon anymore. The feelings of uselessness you’d harbored for so long that they’d manifested into a raging jealousy release themselves into the silence of your apartment. You cry and Namjoon watches you. 

There’s a hand pressing into your shoulder after a few moments, and you wipe the fat tears away and look off somewhere to the side. 

“I didn’t know,” Namjoon murmurs, and you give an ugly sniffle in response. His hand drops from your frame to scratch at the back of his neck. 

You scoff, whirling around to narrow your teary eyes at him. “Of course you fucking didn’t, you were too busy kissing his ass every chance you got,” you spit, and Namjoon’s eyes blow out into saucers. 

“I was just doing my job,” he defends, the sympathetic aura he’d held quickly fading into a more defensive one. 

“Oh really?” You exclaim, not backing away when he stands from his perch on the couch, towering over you as you continue your onslaught. “Was your job being a fucking show off? Or was it purposefully making me look like a little bitch in front of my father?”

Namjoon steps into your space, grasping your wrists in his hands to stop your explosive way of talking. “You need to calm do-”

You cackle, fists clenched against his grip. “That’s real funny coming from you, Namjoon,” you mock, and his jaw twitches, a brief spark of that animalistic side of him listing his eyes before he’s tightening his hands around your skin. “Unlike you, I actually know how to control myself.”

“I just wanted to save you tonight,” he fumes, looking so indescribably wrong inside your apartment. Had it been the regular Kim Namjoon with his perfectly styled hair and schooled expressions, maybe you would have not questioned his presence. 

But this Namjoon is completely unknown. He’s bold and strong in a way only young men can be, his temper as untamed as his silvery locks that fall out of place, tickling his forehead. He’s normal, you guess, but admitting as much feels weird. 

“So you can go tell my dad about it?” You spit, desperately shaking your hands out of his grip to no avail. “Admit it, Namjoon, if it was any other girl you wouldn’t have batted an eye, because you only care about yourself and your dumb ass reputation to—”

Your back meets the cushioned seats of the couch, wrangled there by Namjoon’s own strength as he presses you down onto it. He towers over you, radiating pure, unadulterated anger as he stares you down. “You’re right, I fucking wouldn’t have,” he seethes, and you huff and growl as you struggle to pry your hands out of his hold for the nth time, before he eventually settles on pinning them beside your head in irritation. 

“But since it was your little princess ass, I fucking have to,” he growls, and you faintly register the knee he presses between your legs as you glare up at him. “Miss ‘I get everything I want because my daddy’s rich,’” he mocks, voice raising into an obnoxious imitation of what you must sound like. 

You scoff, thrashing beneath him. He pays you no attention, continuing to taunt you. “’I want to help him at work, but I can’t even defend myself against the weakest of strangers,’” he teases, and you keep squirming against him, only fueling his efforts. “You’re such a fucking bitch,” he spits, and you flinch under his gaze. “Is there anything you actually can do?”

Your anger is rolling off of you in waves, but as you move again, his knee brushes against your most sensitive of parts, and a horrifying whimper escapes from your throat. 

You immediately freeze, desperately wracking your brain for some sort of excuse, but the annoyed grunts and growls you’d been releasing sound nothing like the absolutely vulgar noise that had crawled out from between your lips, and by the way Namjoon’s furious expression melts off his face, you know he’s also realized this. 

You try to search your brain for how exactly this had happened. The heat that had been boiling inside of you—the absolute rage you’d been feeling—hadn’t actually been anger? Exactly when did your body decide now was as good as ever to feel like this?

For a moment, your apartment is silent. The only sound you hear is the rushing of blood in your ears, lips pressed together as you fight down the inevitable flush that decorates your face. Maybe if you hadn’t been so focused on controlling your breathing you might have taken advantage of the brief moment in which Namjoon had loosened his grip on you. 

“Listen,” you huff, tongue running over your lips. You try to ignore the way Namjoon’s clouded gaze glances down at them. “I’m still in a lot of shock from all that happened tonight and—” your words are cut short when Namjoon’s leg purposefully brushes against your core, another high-pitched whine ripping itself out of your throat.

Namjoon snorts. 

“So that’s what this is about,” he says, his looming figure somehow ten times more dangerous than before. You feel yourself grow incredibly small beneath him, even more so when he ducks down until your faces are close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. 

“All this time, were you waiting for this, Miss ___?” He murmurs, his breath hot against your face. You say nothing, the muscles of your thighs clenched tight as you try to remain as still as possible. He presses a kiss to your cheekbone, and the simple gesture has you releasing a breath you hadn’t known you’ve been holding. “I need an answer.”

“N-No,” you cry out, turning your head away from him, though you desperately want to feel that witty tongue against your folds. That same stuck-up ego of yours tries to remind you, you hate Kim Namjoon, but to no avail. 

Namjoon smiles, the curves of his sinfully plush lips pressed against your jaw, giving a teasing squeeze to your weak hands. “Miss ___, I didn’t take you to be such a liar,” he breathes, kissing along your jaw and down your neck. Your sharp inhale pierces through the air, and your traitorous body has your legs tightening around his waist. The deep chuckle that leaves him has every part of you vibrating, eyes fluttering shut beneath the delicious feel of his mouth. 

“Stop being a little bitch and let me take care of you,” he reprimands, voice soft yet authoritative as leans closer, your chests brushing together. You bite your tongue too late, a pitiful whine leaving your lips. Namjoon lets out another soft huff of laughter around your neck, pausing his languid kisses. 

“I’m not a-a little bitch,” you weakly defend, trembling beneath him as he licks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. 

“Of course you aren't, Miss ___,” he agrees, though you feel he only does it to placate you. “But you must be so tired. Always trying to win your pop’s attention,” he sighs, and lifts his head up to level you with a heated gaze. You feel your lower lip tremble. He leans in, soft lips brushing against yours in a short kiss. “But you can have all of mine, princess,” he promises, gently nipping at your lip, enough to have your back arching into his solid chest. “I know I’m not your daddy but—”

You unexpectedly whine at his wording, and Namjoon grins against your mouth, swallowing the sound. He pulls off with a lewd pop. “Unless you want me to be, of course,” he propositions, and you don’t know what comes over you as you furiously nod your head. “Perfect,” he praises, one hand finally releasing you to trace down your body instead, his ridiculously large palm gliding over your thigh, hitching it higher up his waist. “Will you let me, princess?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your trembling hand stretching forward to wrap around his neck, forcefully pulling him closer to you. 

“Yes... what?” Namjoon tests, letting you manhandle him into another desperate kiss, and you wonder if your arousal has seeped through the fabric of those thin booty shorts. 

“Yes, daddy,” you say back, and the wicked grin is the last thing you feel before he’s looping his hands beneath you and tugging you into his lap. A tiny shriek leaves your lips, before you settle onto your new seat. 

Any traces of Namjoon’s smile are wiped clean as he stares up at you, fingers digging into your waist. “You’ve been really naughty tonight, princess,” he calmly says, and though you’re on top of him, you still feel like you’re below him. “Calling me in the middle of the night to come get you— what was that little thing you said to me on the phone again?”

Your cheeks tinge as you recall the words you’d uttered to him over the phone. Granted you hadn’t meant them in that way, it was somewhat relieving to know he’d been effected by them. “I need you,” you repeat in that same timid voice that had spoken to him earlier in the night. 

Namjoon lets out a low whistle at your words, basking in the embarrassment that swallows you. “How bold of you,” he says in a quiet voice, fingers gripping harder into you, pushing you down onto his cock, hardened beneath his jeans. You gasp, hands digging into his shoulders in surprise. 

“I wanna make you cum so bad,” he sighs, guiding you through the same motion again. “But, I was so fucking pissed off at you tonight,” he informs you, and your heart clenches at the irritated glance he shoots you. “Calling me in the middle of the night to get a pack of fucking gummy bears. Who do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you gasp, letting him haul you onto his clothed dick again. 

“Did you want my attention that bad?” He asks. “Well you have it now.” His hands slowly release you, and you whine back arching as you rut into him again. He leans back into the comfort of the couch cushions, arms casually slung across the back as he watches you. “I know you’re already so spoiled , so why don't you actually work for something for once?” He suggests, and your mind blanks as you struggle to figure out what he means. “Get yourself off for me, princess,” he commands, watching you through hooded eyes. 

You whine, lower lip drawing to a pout as you realize he’s really waiting for you, eyes flickering off to the side in a bored manner. 

Pushing any last traces of self-respect aside, you dig your fingers into his shoulders once more, slowly grinding yourself against him until all the humiliation is replaced with pleasure, your panties caught against your wetness. “Daddy,” you cry out, pleased to feel his cock plumping up beneath you. 

Your movements grow short and stilted as you carry on, rutting against him like an animal. Your eyes squeeze shut, because the foggy haze of euphoria isn't completely enough to ignore the sneering expression he wears as he watches your desperate form. “Look at you,” he murmurs, almost in awe. 

There’s a soft brush against your side, and you flinch before realizing it’s his hand, pushing the oversized shirt up until his bandaged fingers rest against the soft skin over your ribcage. “Need more, daddy,” you whimper, your lower abdomen starting to ache from all the movement. 

“Nuh uh,” Namjoon teases, though his hands continue to pet you. “You’ve become so selfish, princess,” he says, leaning forward to nip at your jaw. Your breath catches in your throat at the gesture. “But I promise, once you do this, I’ll take care of you for the rest of the night.”

The idea seems all too agreeable, and with a renewed vigor, you begin your wild thrusting against him. The rough denim of his jeans brushes the undersides of your thighs, and you’re suddenly aware how close you’ve come to your orgasm. A moan catches in your throat when you feel a finger brush the underside of your bra cups, Namjoon’s cold hands tracing over the soft flesh of your stomach. “That’s it,” he encourages, voice low as he watches you move your hips back and forth, the speed picking up as your orgasm draws closer. 

It hits you embarrassingly quickly, your back arching as Namjoon’s soft hands hold onto your sides. There’s a sudden bloom of wetness across your panties, soaking through until even your shorts become tinged with your cum. Your words catch in your throat, cheeks blazing as you catch his eye. 

Namjoon smirks, cupping your jaw in his hands to draw you in for another steamy kiss. This time, his tongue licks into your mouth, the wet appendage reaching into the warmth as you struggle to catch your breath. That humiliating orgasm lingers in the back of your mind. 

“You worked so hard,” Namjoon praises, and you melt into his embrace when you feel a stray finger press against your core, dancing along the stained material of your shorts. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly says, and your heart stops at the sudden apology, uncharacteristic of Namjoon. “I would stretch you out but my fingers are too nasty to be inside of my princess.” The scalding feel of his finger against you leaves as he raises his hand to brandish his bandaged fingers, his digits wiggling as if to emphasize their appearance. 

You grimace, and he laughs at your reaction. “Can you take me like this?” He asks, and you bite your lip as you consider it. Truthfully, you hadn’t had sex in a while, so you were undoubtedly tight down there. But then again, you had just orgasmed, and naturally your body became more relaxed after such strenuous activity. 

“I think I can,” you murmur, your voice dripping with hesitation that he quickly kisses away. 

“You don’t have to if you don't want to,” he assures, his voice almost back to the normal Kim Namjoon you’d been seeing for the past few weeks. “But I’m serious about taking care of you, princess,” he adds, softly. 

With those words and a newly found resolve, you push away any doubts and shake your head at his new offer. “No, fuck me, please,” you nearly beg, nudging his nose with your own as you search for a kiss from those sinful lips. “I want you to, daddy.”

Namjoon placates you with one brief peck, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you into him. “Good girl,” he exhales, relief tainting every syllable that leaves his mouth as he holds you in his embrace. “Gonna fuck you so good,” he promises, his head deliciously nuzzled between your breasts. “But I need you to take off these cute little shorts first.”

He runs a finger along the elastic of your shorts, letting it snap back to your skin with a loud thwack. You flinch, Namjoon’s large palms soothingly rubbing over the curve of your ass, palming the two globes with much appreciation. His hands dip into your backside, pushing the garment off as he encourages you to rise to your knees. With a little struggle, he manages to tug those horrid shorts off of you, leaving you in a pair of cheeky lace panties, the pale blue considerably darker where your arousal had leaked through earlier. 

“You’ve become so dirty,” Namjoon scolds, using the least damaged of his two hands to trail one finger over the beginning of your womanhood, teasingly pressing over where he knows your clitoris is hiding. You keen, tugging your large shirt up higher in an effort to see what he’s doing. His fingers twitch as he presses them over your saturated undergarments, as if he were wishing he could do more but is prohibited by the state of his hands. Just as you’d thought, he utters out a strained, “fuck.”

“Daddy, need you inside of me,” you pant, your hips unconsciously jolting into his fingers. He nods, pressing a hand into your shoulder to move you away as he undoes his belt buckle. Anticipation catches in your chest as you watch his every move, nimble fingers tugging his belt through the metal buckle before he’s popping open the button of his jeans. An unconscious moan slips past your lips when he pulls them down to reveal his simple grey underwear, pulled taut around his erection. 

He flashes you one final grin before he’s letting his cock spring free, the flaming tip smacking against the planes of his stomach. Your thighs quiver at the sight, but Namjoon doesn’t let you ogle him for long. He pulls you into his chest, and you cry out when you feel his cock brush against your core, hands burying themselves in his unruly hair. 

“Promise I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs against your jaw, grabbing onto the base of his cock with one hand while you twist your arm backwards to tug your underwear to the side. Realistically, you know he can't be as gentle as he wishes, especially because you haven’t been stretched out properly. But you’re so caught up in the idea of finally resolving this unspoken of sexual tension that you don’t mind the pain that’s destined to come. 

His head pushes against your throbbing opening, and you can’t believe it’s actually possible to feel your heartbeat through your pussy, but here you are. You gasp, every part of you tightening as his head pops through that initial tight ring of muscle. Namjoon, for the first time, shows you how effected he is with a low moan. “So tight,” he chokes out, that stupid smile still adorning his features. 

The absolute girth of his cock has tears welling in your eyes, and you squeeze them shut in an attempt to push them away, your lip caught between your teeth hard enough to dry blood. Namjoon soothes you with kisses along your jawline, his hand rubbing soothing circles along your hip. “You’re doing so good for me, princess,” he murmurs, and takes advantage of the moan that rips out of you by shoving further into you. 

You scream when your knees give out, and you end up falling down onto the rest of his cock, back arching when his tip brushes against your cervix. Namjoon groans in unison at your sudden movement, and for a moment, the room goes quiet. 

“Shit,” Namjoon huffs, the end of his voice tinged with laughter. Your body is slowly pulling itself out from the sudden shock, spine going numb. Namjoon reaches out to catch you, laying you against his chest. “Good girl,” he praises, “daddy couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

Your pussy clenches at his words, and sensing this, Namjoon slowly grinds upwards into you. You whimper, still sensitive from that weak orgasm from earlier. “Gonna fuck you now, princess,” he informs you. “Want me to lay you down or are you good like this?” 

It takes a second for you to realize he’s asked you something, and you belatedly murmur, “lay down,” against his neck. 

Namjoon wastes no time, hauling you off the couch in his arms, fingers pressed into the backs of your thighs. He whirls around, carefully depositing you on the soft cushion. Each movement has him shifting inside of you, and you can feel your breaths become more and more labored by the time he finally covers you with his body, one hand pressing your leg against the couch beside you. 

The first official thrust has you wantonly moaning like a porn star, and you shove a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. “Daddy,” you whimper, gluing the heel of your foot to the base of his spine as you try to push him in deeper. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Namjoon says, tugging your hand away from your mouth only to replace it with his lips. “We’re just getting started.”

Before you can say anything in response, he’s ramming his cock into you again, the sheer strength of his movements shifting you up the couch. You cry out, tangling your hands around his neck in an effort to anchor yourself to him. Despite you believing he was just starting off strong, he sets a similar pace to that thrust, his hips snapping into you with lethal force. 

“Fuck,” you sob, lips pressed against his temple as he continues his ministrations. He’s set a sort of pattern, you notice after a while, every few thrusts topped off with a lewd grind of his core against yours, your clitoris very much enjoying that little addition of his. “Faster, daddy, please,” you pant, arching into him as he pushes against you. 

Your walls convulse, your second orgasm drawing embarrassingly near, but it’s Kim Namjoon doing this, so what can you expect? 

“Look at you,” Namjoon huffs in amusement, slowing his movements until he’s shallowly thrusting into you, reveling in the way you whine for more. “So stuck-up and bitchy, getting your tight little pussy fucked by me, of all people,” he sneers, biting against your shoulder. 

“Sh-Shut the fuck up,” you breathe, hips pushing forward to meet his, desperately urging him to pick up his pace again. 

Namjoon snorts. “Don’t tell me what to do, ___,” he spits, pulling nearly all the way out, only his swollen head inside, just to slam back into you. You moan when your vision goes blurry for a second. “Look at the snobby little princess,” he mocks, fingers gripping into your hips tightly, “getting fucked like a little bitch.”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, Namjoon,” you groan, digging your nails into his shoulder as a warning. 

Namjoon reaches his good hand down to toy with your swollen bud, and you hiss. “Sorry, who are you talking to?”

“I-I’m serious, Namj—”

He gives your clit a delicious little squeeze, your words cut off by a mewl. “Who?” He repeats, pushing the bundle of nerves back and forth between his fingers, mouth licking along the sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Weren’t you supposed to call me something else tonight?” He bites down on your skin, hard enough to bruise, but you suppose that was his intention anyway. When you don’t answer, he pulls away, that teasing gaze of his locked on yours. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten,” Namjoon murmurs, his hips rocking into yours. You whine, teeth clenching with every shift. “Just say it now and I’ll make you cum right away, princess.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, the residual hurt from his mocking words from earlier leaving without much of a doubt. 

Luckily, Namjoon doesn’t seem too offended, those plush lips of his tugging into a lopsided smirk. “Already am,” he murmurs, and you watch him shift from playful to animalistic, his hips picking up that same arduous pace from earlier. 

You don’t say much between the two of you after that, his attention zeroing in on your throbbing pussy walls as he rams into you like a dog in heat, your high-pitched whines and mewls filling the night air, occasionally accompanied by the low grunts that leave his mouth every time you clench around his length. 

You can feel the burn of his cock against your abused pussy, every drag leaving a burning feeling. You begin blabbering nonsense, a trait uncharacteristic of you, as your orgasm draws nearer. When you think back on it, you’re not exactly sure what you’d said, and Namjoon hadn’t dwelled on your incoherent thoughts either. 

Truthfully, this whole night with Namjoon had been humiliating. Arousing, but undeniably humiliating. He’d revealed new aspects of you that you’d never known of, had reduced you to a sobbing mess multiple times, and then had even had the balls to mock you while his cock was buried deep inside of you. It only makes sense that your orgasm is the same, the burning heat finally brimming over the edge disgustingly prematurely, your walls spasming around him with a loud, “daddy” falling from your lips.

“Fuck,” Namjoon grunts, his hips only seeming to pick up their already brutal pace as you coat his dick with your arousal, body quickly falling lax beneath him. His hips slap against yours, and the feeling has your already sensitive body quivering. 

“Come on, daddy,” you breathlessly murmur, trailing a hand down the side of his face, before pulling him into a languid kiss. It’s the first one you’ve been in command of, slotting your mouths together before slipping your tongue past those plump lips that have had you hypnotized all night. 

Namjoon grows restless, and you swallow every little sound he makes, before he’s hastily pulling out of you, giving his swollen cock a few harsh pulls before shooting across your open legs. Another curse slips through his lips, his member softening in his grip. 

For a few moments, your body seems completely okay with the idea of falling asleep right then and there, your vision going hazy as you stare up at Namjoon’s towering figure. Namjoon doesn’t seem to agree though, and your heart jumps into your throat when he pulls his shirt over his head, his never before seen body coming into view. Before you can get too excited though, he’s dragging the cloth along your thighs and between your legs, and you cry out from oversensitivity. 

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, dutifully cleaning you off before tossing his soiled clothing somewhere onto the ground. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his large palms running alongside your thighs, his voice lulling you to sleep. “Where’s your room, princess?”

Your own voice comes out sleepily, giving him the most basic directions you can remember. There’s a pleasant buzzing in your chest when he gently picks you up, but the rest of your memories become fuzzy after he tucks you into bed. 

Your phone rings a little past noon, and you groggily reach out for it, swiping the answer button cross the screen. Your father’s voice greets you in a panicked frenzy. 

“Sweetie, I know you were supposed to drop by right now, but none of us can get a hold of that damn kid,” he rushes, his silence not actually silent as it fills the receiver with the bustling sounds of his office. “As soon as I get my hands on him, I’m gonna kill him.”

You yawn, running a hand over your eyes as you glance at the time. “It’s fine,” you murmur, “I gave Namjoon the day off.”

Your father chokes. “You did what? Honey, I know he’s technically working under you right now, but you can’t do that, especially not with one of my most prized pupi-”

“Bye, dad,” you drawl, hanging up before he can get another word in. You toss your phone off to the side, rolling over in your bed until your body bumps into another one, soft and warm, muscles delicious beneath your fingers. You rearrange their limbs until their arms are wrapped around you, your nose pressed against his neck. 

Namjoon snorts, tightening his grip around you. “Spoiled as fuck.”

[no-te-lo-voy-a-dar]

The guild of a Warrior

Words count: 4268

Yoo people! I’m back into writing to post this fic, it seems. This one is for the @linkeduniverse discord weekly writing prompt “Warrior’s week”, I’m still not sure if I got the boyes personalities right, because it’s the first time I write for them but hey! Jojo’s AU is amazing and I need more content of the boys ‘cause it never seems enough  (I stopped writing this at some point to talk ‘bout anti-vaxx people on the discord lmao)

I, don’t think there’s any trigger warning to be added but hey, regular fights, blood and injuries that come with the job ahead.

Also on AO3 

Warriors life with the others was usually a calm one. Sure, they were always tired and having to sleep with watch turns and whatnot, but after traveling by their own, having partners and someone to rely on while fighting was a good thing. A relief even.

And Warrior used to fight endless monsters, so the amount they usually fought against was a mental weight less on him. And, even if he doesn’t say it aloud often, he really appreciates the fact the others are so supportive and would straight up jump to danger in order to save the others, even when they keep secrets from each other.

If you had asked him some months ago, Warrior would have laughed in your face if you even suggested the idea of him fighting and trusting his life over a bunch of boys who he barely knows anything about.

Although...they do know a lot of one another, don’t they? After all, they share the same blessing of the Goddess and have faced trials and gained more power over time in order to protect their lands.

And they do keep learning things from one another!

Thanks to Time, for example, they have learned that love, a happy and more relaxing endgame could be possible for them. They realized, even with all the physical and emotional scars their journeys left them with, they could, can , find a especial other.

In retrospective, Time has taught them a lot of things, or guided them more than they usually realized.

Warrior was aware that Time was some kind of father figure for some of them, and for those who wasn’t, he was a figure to respect, to learn from. To follow.

Of course Twili has told him he was also a leader, a captain, since in many of their scouting missions he was the one who came up with a strategy.

Warrior was obviously gonna come up with stuff like that, and at the moment, he took pride in the compliment and made a comment about how his charms were not only limited to his aesthetical being, after all, he used to live fighting hordes of monsters...but he was no leader to the group. He knew that much. That’s how he really felt about that topic.

Until destiny decided to try him again. An interesting week that one time became, but he didn’t want to go over it again.

First, they have been at Twili’s Hyrule for a while, and he had to admit, the sceneries were beautiful, the people was nice and traveling from one place to another wasn’t that hard.

Wild did complain at the close to non-existence amount of wild horses, but a quick visit to Ordon ranch was all it took for him to stop. He fell in love with the goats immediately. And Warrior could see Twili was amused with how fast the goats were to accept the cloak user hero. Everyone could, actually, but just Wind and Warrior said something to him.

Everything was going smooth as usual. They kept traveling until the local Link felt or saw something odd, out of place; Wolfie appeared to accompany them for a while, Sky was amused by the local “terrenal” creatures, and Wind insisted on going to the Lake, or the biggest water body on the current Hyrule, since he still missed the water and it made him feel closer to home.

When things started to go downhill was when Hyrule and Legend didn’t came back to the camp for two nights straight, and then both Wolfie and Twili went missing too.

“Alright, we can’t keep waiting just for more of us to go missing. We have to split up and try to find them. I’ll go with Sky and Four.” Time was getting up and preparing himself to go looking for the others on a Hyrule they still didn’t quite know.

Wind and Wild didn’t need instructions to know they were meant to team up wit Warrior, who got a solemn look from Time.

“You are in charge. Take care.”

Oh Din.

They started searching on the Hidden Village, that ghostly place filled with cats that Wolfie took them to one day.

“If he showed us such a place, he must have done it for a reason, right? Maybe that’s where he usually lives, in this place.” That's what Warrior told the other two when they decided to go there, but he wasn’t convinced by his own idea. Something told him that they should try and find Twili, not Wolfie.

As expected, there was no sign of any of the missing partners in there.

“I bet Twili is alright. This is his Hyrule after all. Maybe he went to check on some friends of his or something like that. I would have done that.” Wind was making conversation, since Warrior was more busy with thinking of places to look in and Wild was checking the arrows in his quiver.

“But he would have told us something, right? He wouldn’t just, leave us like that.” Anyone who wasn’t aware of the issues Wild had with abandonment and the attachment issues those left, wouldn’t have heard the slight distress in his voice. Some level of fear about voicing out his concerns.

“Maybe not to all of us; to Time he must have said something if that was the case. But apparently we have another situation right here, because Time didn't know anything.” Warriors was on his strategy-man self and was giving even shorter answers than he usually did in this kind of scenarios.

“I hope he’s okay…” Warrior was aware of Wild’s voice: low and filled with doubt. He knew those two had spent more time together, since they were the first ones meeting, and it was only natural for Wild to worry about his mentor and friend.

“Listen Wild, Twili is a tough guy. Nothing is going to happen to him. And even if it does, as Wind said, this is his Hyrule. He knows his way around, and must feel better of being in a place he might know as well as the palm of his hand.” By this point, Warrior had stopped walking and was now facing Wild.

“And he must know we are going to look out for him. I would trust you all with my life. I know you wouldn’t let me alone.” He gave both of the younger than him blondes a sideway smile, and was relieved to see both of their faces a little more relaxed.

“Okay, let’s get to work now. Any idea what path should we took?”

“What about below those crows? Birds flying like that always mean there’s something going on.” Wind was more used to seagulls, but even monster-birds had a tendency to fly in circles around any kind of event going on on the ground.

And so they started walking. The birds were close, and the path lead to what Twili called “Eldin’s Bridge”.

What they saw, they never believe could happen.

Hyrule was holding Legend back using his wind magic, making a tornado cell, but it seemed as if said magic was stronger, the air he handled seemed to have a forest-like smell in it. Legend, on the other hand, was making lighting fall from the sky, and he seemed to try and shoot ice wind at Hyrule with one of his staffs.

Why were they fighting each other? Something happened on the small travel those two were in that lead to this.

“Hyrule! What happened?! How can we help you?!” Warrior called from one side of the bridge to the boy on the middle of it.

“Warrior! I’m so glad to hear you. And I’m not sure. We were in the province of Farore, and were searching for information on this Hyrule’s magic, when Legend found what seemed to be a mirror piece of some short and next thing I know, he's chasing me down all over the place!”

“Shouldn't we try and help him first!? They are fighting over that bridge whose bottom is not even visible!!” Wild was right but, that's not how things are supposed to work.

“Alright, listen. Wind, use your lasso to pull Hyrule over here, then walk enough to were we came from, to stay as away from the bridge as possible. Wild, you and I are going to work together on getting Legend to this side, while Wind does his part. When all of that is done, you are to switch places with him, and treat Hyrule's wounds. When you both are ready, re-join Wind and I.” While Warrior was giving instructions, Wind had already gotten his lasso-claw out and was preparing to shoot it forward.

After Wind pulled Hyrule over to them, Legend took a few seconds to realize his target had moved. Good. That gave them precious seconds to move to a safer zone to keep the plan going.

By the time Wind and Wild had changed places, Legend was already near them. Perfect, thought Warrior.

“We must not hurt him. We just need to tie him up and wait until we can talk to Twi’ and see what happens to him. This is his Hyrule after all.”

And as if that was an instruction, they launched forward, avoiding Legend's attacks, both physical and magical ones, which seemed to be stronger than usual, as well as more dangerous.

To make things worse, Legend didn't seem to have complete control over the magic attacks his medallions were producing, since he hurt himself a couple of times.

Wild and Hyrule were quick to join them, and soon they were trying to tire Legend up, and it seemed it was working. Or at least he was running low on magic, because his attacks started taking place less and less often, and the intensity of their damage kept decreasing.

Wild threw an old shield to Legend’s legs from the back, which made him stumble after hitting behind his knees; followed by that, Wind was quick to use his lasso to tie him up, but it didn’t seem like that would do.

“This is not going to last until we reach the camp. What else can we do?” Worry over both his lasso and his friend could be heard on Wind's voice.

Warrior didn’t have to think it a lot. He remembered Legend had an magical ice staff, and that it could semi-froze people. But he was no magician.

He approached Legend and kneeled down while taking his (precious) scarf off, and proceded to tie it around Legend’s head, covering his eyes and ears.

“I’m so sorry pal, you are not gonna like this”. Was the almost inaudible apology he gave to the possessed like hero while taking said staff from his persona.

He stood up and walked to Hyrule, handing him said object.

“You are the only one of us right here that I trust enough to make sure this works.” ‘Rule grabbed the staff, and immediately understood what Warrior wanted him to do.

“But, this is not the magic I'm used to. We should ask Four to do it, it would-” Hyrule's slightly panic filled speech was cut out by Warrior putting his hand on his shoulder.

They all were used to monsters and nightmare like creatures, but fighting one another, to be in the need of causing some harm to those they already considered brothers... that's something they weren't really prepared for.

“Listen 'Rule. We can't afford to wait for Four to get here. You're capable of this. I've seen you do magic often. I have to admit I'm not sure what most of those spells were, but as little as they are, you are a natural in magic, your skills covering a very good range of it.” Little by little, the worried eyes of Hyrule were replaced with ones filled with amusement over Warrior's words and determination on helping the others.

The brunette nodded to the scarf-less blonde, who stepped aside, and went to stand in front of a struggling Legend, who was trying to release himself from Wind and Wild, who were holding him down.

“Brother, I hope you forgive me.” And so, Hyrule allowed the magic to start flowing from his core, feeling the tingling that it came with it cover the arm holding the staff, and when the cold started to numb his fingers, he raised the staff and made sure of shooting a ray strong enough to froze, him but gentle enough to not, well, kill him.

And it worked.

When they approached their hands with the signature triangles mark to the frozen boy, it felt warm on each of them. They have learned that was a side effect of their “triforce pieces” being too close to one another. Something about powers clashing together it’s what Four said.

“Wild, could you go and get one of the big pigs the bulblins ride please? We need to take him to camp quickly.” Wild nodded at Warrior’s words, leaving Wind with the taller Link.

Once they secured Legend on the pig’s back, the silent walk to the camp took place, with just a comment or two between them to go clear the path, or to switch places with the one currently leading the pig-like creature.

By the time they got to the camp, the sun was setting away, but the relief was to see Twili with the other team. He had his head covered in scratches, and one of his arms was bandaged. It was almost the usual sight they got of each other after a fight.

Warrior could sense that Wild was holding himself so to avoid running to Twili, to check him up.

“Hey! It’s good to see you are fine. Well, mostly. We were worried when you left without saying anything and didn’t come back at night.” Wild, however, took the lead and went straight up to sit besides Twili, who just gave a chuckle at hearing the statement.

“I did plan on coming back at night, but some issues needed to be taken care of. I’m sorry.” He did sound like he was apologizing for something, but Warrior could feel it wasn’t to them, not completely. Something else was on his mind...perhaps a past memory of something that happened during his own journey. Visiting old places could awaken painful memories.

“Hey, where’s Wolfie?” Wind, just catching up, since he was the last to be pulling the pig, that was carrying both Legend and Hyrule, asked about the semi-wild animal.

Time being the perceptive one no matter the lack of one eye sight, was quick to notice both heroes on the pig’s back.

“Wolfie was the one protecting Twili, he went on his own, but he's fine. Most importantly, what happened to those two?” As soon as he pointed that out, the rest of the team was quick to surround the brown animal, and help down Hyrule, as well as carrying Legend to the floor.

“Well, we were searching for magic in this world, Legend wanting to see what he could use to enchant some of his weapons, and I was just looking forward into seeing the differences between our universes, as usual.” As Sky took care of some of Hyrule’s wounds, the later begun telling everyone the story.

“Everything was fine. We just had to cut down some Babas from the path, and scare some Keeses away. Then I got a blessing from some of this land’s spirits, a close one to Farore I think it was, and my wind magic got stronger and, somehow, it felt more alive.” He made his point by creating a small tornado and making it dance among the other Links, who felt indeed how the air was fresher and, for them, gave a sense of calmness.

“And when we got deeper into the forest, near a temple, Legend found was seemed to be a mirror piece, in the shape of a diamond of sorts.” At this, Twili’s eyes shined, and, if he had canine ears, Warrior thought, those would have perked up.

“Both of us could feel magic emanating from it, but it felt...weird. Like it didn’t belong to this world. I told Legend to leave it, but he said it felt similar to the one he felt when he traveled to his Dark World. As if that was reassuring.” Hyrule, now as healed as he could get, stood up and walked, staff in hand, towards the frozen boy.

Everyone stepped aside, to stare and listen to the story from behind, all except for Four, who was now standing to the right of Hyrule, certain cane on his hand.

“And then, he was going to drop the mirror piece by accident, and when he tried to catch it, it cut his palm enough for it to bleed. Next thing I know, Legend is just, not himself. And when I tried to approach him, he snapped and started attacking me. The rest of the story is a mere chase across this Hyrule fields and me trying to find any of you guys.”

Warrior knew, could almost feel how distressed ‘Rule was after what he saw. A perfectly fine hero, a warrior, a loyal companion, being corrupted enough to attack what used to be his friend.

“Are you sure what cut him was a mirror piece?” Twili’s voice sounded almost plain. Too serious, even for Time.

“Yes, but I have no idea what happened to it after it cut his hand. I didn’t see it on the floor.”

“That’s all I needed to know.” With that, Warrior became the audience, along the others, of witnessing how Twili stood up, and took what looked like...a pine cone with orange lines? from under his clothes, and proceed to move it all around the frozen boy.

When it reached the left hand of the boy, the, thing glowed.

“Four, I’ll need you to defrost his head and left hand. When I say it’s done and safe, defrost the rest of him. Then you’ll need to take him near the fire and help warm him up.” Twili wasn’t even looking at them, and that was unsettling for Warriors, because it was a sign that whatever happened to Legend, it was serious. Or had something to do with Twili’s own past in that land.

Wild and Skye were quick to go make sure the campfire was strong enough for the task, allowing Four to use his cane to warm the ice and release both the boy’s head and hand.

Soon enough, Legend woke up, and Twili could see the characteristic black straight vein-like lines going up Legend’s left neck side.

Warriors saw how Twili took a deep breath with his eyes closed, and when he opened them, he was sure he saw a flash of orange on the second leader eyes. Focusing now on Legend’s hand, he saw how Twili magically extracted what seemed to be little black dots, and a black mist too, from the still half frozen boy, whom, the most dots Twili pulled out of his body, more limp went.

It was a quick action, but for Warrior, who was amazed at the fact that Twili was using magic, felt like long minutes. Twili, the one who seemed to despite magic, who refused to use any magical item and prefered to do everything ‘the old fashioned way’ was capable of using magic, and to tame it too it seemed, because Warrior saw how a piece of mirror formed out of thin air when the dots and mist that were extracted from Legend’s body fused together.

“It’s done. Defrost him.” Twili’s voice seemed to break some spell that had fallen upon the boys, who were speechless after the event they just witnessed.

After Legend was safe by the fire, (and that he got his scarf back) Warrior, Time and Wild approached the former farm hand, who has sat down on the grass and haven’t moved since he ‘healed’ Legend.

Wild just sat besides Twili, same as Time. Warriors just stood aside by a tree near them.

None of them said a thing, giving Twili the chance of just stand up and leave, or say something, anything. Warrior could tell Twili was distressed.

At last, he talked, with a shaky voice.

“It’s my fault he got like that. The thing inside him, was a piece of the Mirror of Twilight, the object that opened the gate to the Realm of Twilight. To her home.” Oh Farore, Warrior was already doubting if he should be listening, after all he didn’t consider himself close to Twili. Not enough anyway.

“After my journey ended, I tried to fetch all the tiny pieces. She might have destroyed the Mirror, but not even her could eliminate it from the face of earth. Before I meet you guys, I had barely got a quarter of it. That’s why I left so many times on our time in here. I’m still looking for them, but I’m not sure if I do it for myself or to keep people safe.” Twili let out a heavy sight before continuing.

“What happened to Legend has happened before to the people of this Hyrule. And it’s awful. It’s easier for me to find the pieces as a wolf, since my form is created out of the same magic, but I freak people out like that.” Ok, definitely shouldn't be listening.

That mere sentence was all it took for Warriors to realize that Wolfie and Twili were the same. That’s why they never saw them together. And, if he had been more clever, payed more attention, he could have seen that the mark on both Twili’s and Wolfie’s foreheads were exactly the same.

How a fool he felt like at that moment. It made him realize he really wasn’t leader material if he couldn’t see that kind of stuff. So obvious yet he was so oblivious to it.

“Hey kid, it’s okay to still seek them, even if you are not sure yet why you keep doing so. You are keeping the people here safe, and maybe it will give you time to realise if you need closure or something.” Time, as wise as his adventures had made him, said what made the more sense. But he could see words were not what Twili needed right there, so he rubbed his pupil’s back a little before he went to the fire and tried to help with warming Legend up.

Warrior could see Twili will take a while to recover, and he didn’t seem convinced by Time’s words, so it was his turn to try.

“You know we are a team right?” Both of the sitting heroes turned their heads, as if just realizing Warriors was there.

“And this is your Hyrule. If you need help with anything you can just ask. ‘Course you don’t have to tell us the whole story on why you need this or that thing done, after all we all have secrets. But we are willing to help a friend in need...” Warrior gave a small smirk towards Twili, “...Wolfie.”

Wild just covered his mouth to cover his laugh, and Twili’s eyes went as wide as Wind’s got when he saw a Zora that didn’t fly .

“I forgot you didn’t knew. I…” Warriors put his hand up to shut Twili up.

“Don’t worry, I kind of see why you didn’t want us all to know. I’ll keep it a secret...as much as it is to some I suppose.” He allowed himself to sit down where Time was just moments ago.

“But seriously, there’s 9 of us, and some have knowledge in magical stuff. We could help you find more of these Mirror pieces.” When Warrior shoot a glance towards Twili, he could see he was on the verge of tears. We all are screwed up, huh?

He threw at Twili his scarf, half covering his face, I haven’t used it all day anyway . “Cover your face up; we can’t let the kids see their second leader’s face all red and ugly after such a day, can we?” Wild seemed surprised to see Warriors lend his scarf that easily, and Twili seemed grateful.

Warrior stood up to go sit by the fire, but not without first listening to Twili.

“You are also a good leader to them you know? To us. I'm serious every time I tell you this...You just love being under the spotlight.” Yeah well, maybe…

“That’s right! You really are good with keeping us sane in stressful situations. You are good at keeping your posture when things get too hard for some of  us.” The almost chirp like comment by Wild wasn’t something Warrior was expecting, but in retrospective, it appears the long haired hero was right.

Perhaps I can be a good leader after all. He nodded as a sign of gratefulness to the other two, and started walking towards the fire.

“You better wash my scarf before giving it back Twi’!” After such a departure comment, it was only natural to feel the rock softly hit his back.

As he walked to join the others, he realized this team, this many versions of himself, they made a nice...family, to him. It was something he would fight to protect and oh the Goddess better protect whoever hurt any of them, because he had fight swarms of enemies before, and he would do it again in the sake of any of the 8 boys that’ve been travelling along him these past few months.

A/N: I...was going somewhere different with this, but then I realized I wanted to cover like three different stories and arcs in one, and this one was (is) already pretty long so, later, maybe, in another fic. Besides, if I had done this one longer than it is now, who knows if I may have been able of finishing it up.

This was longer than planned too, but I still like it. Feedback is appreciated!

[mixscorpio]

intro.

hi there everyone!! i’m bb ( GMT+7, 18+ ), and i’m that indecisive af anon that sent in the msue idea n fc asks bc how does one make choices again??? in the end, i’m here with lee donghae, a columba hitman and wild-flours bakery’s baker, who’s more devoted to his family than anything else really. if you want to plot then just hmu in ims or like this post and i’ll come rolling in your’s, i also have a discord ( BB#6988 ) if you want to message me there instead. also donghae can be quite the walking tw because a lot of his thoughts stray to damn i just want to break you now so if you’re pretty uncomfortable bout certain things you might have to inform me beforehand ksdfhk. i have his stats, bio, and plots page set up if you want to take a look of that. if not, here’s a summary of this boy: tw: death, mentions of body mutilation/horror, animal abuse, minor gore

THE PERSONALITY:

he has many sides to him: the civilian baker, the child, the family man, scorpio, the monster. usually people only get to see one or two depending on who you meet first or how he saw you. 

the civilian baker is more of the neutral guy who is extremely level-headed and didn’t mind many things. you try to mess with his bakery, he’ll calmly go about things rather than being irritated. can be polite and friendly if need be.

the child appears when you grant him sweets and childhood games or toys. despite his maturity, objective and cold attitude—guy still really loves to have fun like a child because of nostalgia and liking to play around when he can ( since most of his childhood ended up being him having to resist his urges to break things and taking care of his sibling more than the actual fun and games—since he didn’t want to accidentally lose himself ).

the family man, a very dedicated and loyal man. he’s sweet, caring, always aware of you and wanting to help! would even repress his own twisted urges in order to keep his family happy. even if his family were to hate him for what he’s done, he would do his best to protect them. would kill ( break ) anyone that dared to harm them.

scorpio the hitman and what gang members or police officers are more aware of. very cold and precise, does things efficiently and very closed off. you see how frigid he could be with how he sort people in his head and label them to levels of importance or decide on who’s bad or not. v cutthroat and blunt, he doesn’t rlly care about many ppl.

the monster aka the one who wants to break everyone, mutilate them and ruin their very souls. manipulating people, shattering their mentality, deforming their bodies, as long as he can see them suffer, as long as he could see them broken beyond belief, he would be deeply satisfied. a madman, with a childish giggle as he completed the mangling of his targets.

tbh, if you’re not family…you’re really just someone he wants to break. after all he’s all of those sides and honest, just that he hid the others well depending on who you face.

THE STORY:

born and raised in myeongcho.

grew up p desensitized to news of death and the sort. in fact, saw the ruined bodies in a car accident once, his parents too late to hide his eyes, but the image burned into his mind.

he wasn’t traumatized tho, he was fascinated.

even when young he’d secretly search up documentaries of serial killings and what not. didn’t really understood most things, but he was interested. killed a rat once, took another rat and dissected it alive out of curiosity.

basically, he’s always been messed up but he also really loved mom and dad, listened to them not approving of killers and all and that’s why he kept it under the wraps.

ended up having a sibling and he wasn’t sure how to feel until his parents lets him hold the baby’s hand and the baby giggled so happily—he was smitten and vowed to protect them to the end.

w family, an absolute sweetheart. colder to strangers but his family just thinks he’s an introvert.

he ended up being annoyed a bit by some kid insulting his sister’s doll that he ended up mutilating the other child’s pet in retaliation. obviously child was traumatized but his family and sibling were v disapproving of the killer’s action—not knowing it was him.

was he hurt? yes. that’s why he tried to keep himself in check.

he was fresh out of high school when he knew he was gonna burst if he didn’t do anything soon.

became the vigilante scorpio that only killed bad ppl bc that made his desires more acceptable right? if he eliminated vile people instead.

when he was 20 he got into columba, 12 years in the hitman business and juggling his dual lives very well.

he’s 32 n wavering, is this an invitation to make the monster his predominant personality? ….yes, yes it is.

lmao this became so long i’m so sorry sjdfgsdf

[sleepymarmot]

COUNTER/Weight liveblog, part 3

Finale +post-mortem

Am I glad to return to the political big picture! It's such a relief that the finale is in this format! Hopefully it won't devolve into another “fighting a giant robot” scene.

Oh, so the Chime are leading the faction game now! Somehow I completely missed the point of the two previous scenes that indicated Aria becoming the new leader of the Righteous Vanguard – I was very surprised and then 10 minutes later went “Oh that's what it was, time to go back and relisten”

Pronoun update: Austin consistently uses “they”, Art consistently uses “he”. End my suffering…

The sheer comedic impact of seven Makos, Larry and Lazer Ted all in a room together has healed my soul immediately. Can we end on this image so nothing bad happens

I'm so proud of Orth!! “I'm sorry, which one are you?” lmao

Oooh the relationship drama~ But how come Jacqui didn't know Jill was alive? Actually, now that I think of it, back then it was clearly said that Jacqui knows Jillian is back and is sad because Jillian doesn't remember her. This show's retcons…

Look I know shit must hit the fan pretty soon but for now this finale is just. So relaxing. I'm having a lot of fun listening to these squabbles. (The only exception were Mako and Orth – boys, stop fighting, why!)

That Cass & Aria scene was cool but please don't give me world leader old friends sneaking away for secret stress relief sparring sessions when I'm not supposed to start shipping them

Oh hell yeah, I was hoping that since Jacqui went with Jillian, Aria would go with Ibex. (Not very relevant here, but Ibex is from Kesh like Maryland, right? If so, there must be fanart of young Ibex and Maryland in 19th century outfits?)

Stop cryptically saying oh Sokrates isn't here, oh they aren't using their candidate name, like what's up with them?! Are they doing well? I'm worried!

Oh Orth wants to dance with Ibex huh *eyes emoji* Rematch! Rematch!

“I'll take anything” “Anything?” My mind, of course, autocompletes “Then perish”

THIS WAS A LOT and I need to take a couple of minutes to start breathing normally again. Also there just has to be a lovingly drawn fanart adaptation of this entire scene (in, like, fukcing Leyendecker style), come on fandom please say someone has done it

Jacq/Jill continuing with the heartbreaking scenes, I see

Mako doesn't like dancing now…… holy shit this is the most upsetting ball ever… (The cynical part of me must say that it's only Austin who talks about this connection, Keith doesn't and still sounds way less emotional about the whole thing than the others assume Mako to be)

I amend my previous statement, I also need fanart with snapshots of every dance: Orth firmly taking Ibex's hand and receiving a surprised but approving look, Jillian throwing her head back in laughter and Jacqui watching with a pained smile, sullen Mako leaning on a wall cross-armed and looking for an opportunity to slip away, Cass dropping his one-liner with a completely dispassionate face.

Wow Ibex is really getting ready for death. Sounds as if he knows the exact date.

HOLY SHIT THE DIVINES' ORIGIN STORY!!! FINALLY!!! I'm surprised they were all created by the same person…

I'm relieved Mako and Orth are on good terms again!

I love the new Aria as this competent politician who does a lot of swordfighting and dealing with old flames

Have I mentioned I really love the game they're playing? It almost synthesizes the best parts of the game they played previously – as if it was written just for this finale. It's so great how this show and specifically this campaign go through so many games, showing the universe and the characters from different angles, instead of having them be defined by only one game system and its limitations and quirks.

That's some real good mech if it can function for 80,000 years, Divines' body or not!

Okay, I fucking knew Liberty and Discovery would split up at some point (which is what I meant above by my expectations for AuDy's fate), but why is Liberty attacking Ibex?

Mako's robots!!! :DDD Now that's the real finale shit!

I CAN'T BELIEVE Keith missed Tower's brief appearance of all things. It's like a fucking scene from the show on the level of dramatic irony. They were truly not meant to be, even the universe in real life is saying that. Do you ever get rejected so badly that the guy you like runs away from you at the prom, and then lets you fall into a deadly portal with the rest of your planet, and then you get brainwashed, and then you are killed by an ally of that guy, and the person playing him doesn't even witness that?!

I thought Orth was going to challenge Kobus about Liberty…

“I have Liberty contained” *winces*

Every time it is asked what is Mako wearing I just mentally pull out the popcorn

“I welcome anyone to tell Cass that AuDy is a non-person”

Let me restate how much I'm loving how the scenes that in any other show would be minor fluff or short summaries in an epilogue are a legit fully rendered part of the finale

Sokrates & Orth reunion please!!

Aw Ted! It never occured to me that this comic relief character has, in fact, lost his entire planet and almost everyone he knows.

…I think I like Apokine Cass more than Chime Cass

That's a big lore dump holy cow! I'm glad Apostolosians are ex-humans after all, but I wonder how they turned into fish people

So what happened to the idea of Mako hacking Grace?

They just… went and straight up murdered two Divines… If it had happened early in the show I'd probably cheer, and no tears were shed for Grace, but Liberty… Just take a third of another player character and drive it into a sun…

Of course. I knew Sokrates is the kind of character who dies nobly in a grand finale.

I've spent all this time wondering how the piece of Voice in Mako doesn't get infected by Rigor, and it seems to finally happen and Larry seems to die repairing it, but what about all other Makos, aren't they in danger too?

This is way too easy so far, just sacrifice NPCs one by one to win.

This whole time I was assuming Mako saved as many clones as he could, not just his own… If he gets another turn I bet it's submit or die :/

Hello I'm crying over Lazer Ted! Choices in the campaign sound futile now: who cares which guy Mako saved – they both died anyway! All named NPCs did!

Except for Jacqui. Congratulations, the NPC Who Lived! (I mistyped “loved” at first, which is also relevant. And yes, I cried here too.)

How the hell would falling into a sun kill Rigor if it was previously not killed by a bomb that destroys hundreds of suns?

Poor Cass… Not only sacrificing yourself in such a difficult way, but to have a final conversation only just to learn that your friend, a passionate revolutionary further empowered by Righteousness, has deserted… The sheer contempt and disappointment he pours in just three words “Ibex told you”...

Welp. Mako's fate was not tragic like I feared! Good news I guess, but it's still kind of sad. And I think the saddest part is that Mako himself doesn't realize. Because it can just sound like the natural continuation of his character growth – after he had to learn to be the responsible one first in contrast to Larry and then to the other Makos. But it's not that, or not just that, and it's kind of chilling to hear that he never knows it, and never knows peace.

Executive Joie, oh my… It's so strange and cool how Aria somehow continues the legacy of Jace and Ibex at once.

The race is over. It's so strange that now there are no consequences to fear or spoilers to avoid.

I didn't like the final battle as much as the rest of the finale – I hoped for a more clever solution than just throwing bodies at the enemy (but I guess the intro warned me lol…). Especially since these bodies had very unequal impact – I'm not going to care about Diego Rose or Chet Wise or Orth's newly-created lieutenants or as much as I care about Jacqui -- so it felt unfair towards players/characters who had more important or likeable chracters in their faction. I'm opposed on principle to making the big confrontation feel important and emotional just by killing off characters (hi, J. K. Rowling and Russo brothers), I think it's cheap and emotionally manipulative, but in this case the emotional manipulation doesn't even work so it’s doubly disappointing.

If someone's reading this, you can see that what I expected or wanted from the story was not what it gave me, and that was frustrating or disappointing at times. But nevertheless, it was a wild ride.

I've slept on it and it still fucks me up that out of the Chime only Aria gets a genuinely happy ending! Cass is fucking dead, Liberty is dead while AuDy becomes a ghost, and Mako loses everyone and is lonely for the rest of his life!

It's so strange to listen to the opening theme in the post-mortem and think that this is the second-to-last time. (Relistens don't count, it's not the same thing.) By the way, I love that theme – it sounds like a half song with the words on the tip of my tongue, like space, or like city at night. Really atmospheric.

I love how everyone continues to be into that moment where Aria has the opportunity to kill Cass lol (I am too)

Yeah, thanks for reminding me about that coin toss moment for Kobus in the finale, that was so sudden and shocking I was completely losing it for the long few seconds it lasted

I'm glad someone asked whether Jack knew the Big Spoiler in advance – he was so calm about it in the following episodes that I started wondering

Oh so it wasn't my imagination that the players needed the comic relief of the Lazer Ted episode no less than the characters

After a sad talk about Mako's dead friends, Andi, cheerfully: “I love to kill and I love to hurt and I never regretted anything I ever did! :D” which won the least surprising comment of the hour award lol. Honestly, after that one scene with Diego I started to get a bit nervous whenever Andi announced they had an idea… C/w was fun because I now realize the cinnamon roll Aubrey was actually them playing against type.

I love that someone asked about Mako's first kiss and/or Orth's fandom life!!

Keith's answer is sad, though… He “had literally never considered Mako even being capable of kissing someone, like it wasn't something on the table” and that was unexpected to me. I'd mentioned several times that he sounded reluctant to play up the romance, but I was assuming it was the player's preference, not an innate trait of the character whose attraction to someone was a part of his character creation. How do I interpret it? Mako is aro? Mako never had a chance to properly grow emotionally because his youth was fake and for the rest of his life, all emotional connections were sabotaged by Rigour's shadow, and also literally all his potential love interests died? Ugh, I just keep making myself more and more upset.

Holy shit I forgot about Art asking if there's an old Apostolosian mech on September by any chance lmao

Cene always knew?! Holy shit w h a t

It's nice to hear Ali talk about her growth in confidence as a player because she's definitely kind of an inspiration – for years I've thought tabletop roleplaying is too intense and I'll never do it, but when I finally tried out it was not so scary, so maybe there's hope for me too!

The concept that the real challenge of the final battle was that the easier it would be to defeat Rigor, the worse shape would the world be afterwards sounds much better than what that battle actually felt like to me. Instead of paying for victory with the health of society and their faction's political power, in the actual gameplay they paid with NPCs from their circle and that was it; the political consequences came later and sounded entirely unrelated. Maybe if they had to go against their faction's goals or sacrifice its assets – e.g. “use Minerva's Rigor-tech mechs in exchange for the promise to leave them alone afterwards” instead of “sacrifice all Mako clones”… Aria had something similar with Weight, but it was the price of Jacqui's life, not the price of a victorious battle against Rigour.

It's very cool to learn where the sound effects in the theme come from! And god, every line as its own take? My head hurts just imagining that…

Austin getting distracted by the idea of fucking Rigor was hilarious, but I never, ever want to hear the word “daddy” in this context! What's with these jokes this season, ew, please stop.

Excuse me, Ali wanted to kiss Ibex as who exactly, Jace or Aria? Both options are equally crazy!

See, “You wanna say ‘Oh he was just doing what was necessary, he was just doing the thing that's good in the end’, and yeah that's him working on you” is exactly why he reminds me of Dukat! Literally the same mind game on the viewers/listeners!

Why is the link broken, I want to see AuDy in Titanfall!

Listening to team “Fuck Ibex!” and team “Fuck Ibex ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)” yell at each other is very entertaining

“Nobody on the Kingdom Come is cishet” is a nice sentiment but I'm kind of confused by which definition of cis Cass is not. Have I missed something about them changing pronouns in-universe? Just because English doesn't have exact analogies for the Apostolosian pronouns doesn't mean everyone who uses them isn't following their own society's conventions. And now Austin also's saying “We never wanted to say these pronouns are equivalent to gender” which is, a, not true, and b, sends the whole problem back to square one – because if that's not the Apostolosian gender then what is? This! Is! A! Mess!

[bartsugsy]

Lo they do get back together right maybe it's because I'm on my period but I cried watching tonight's episode but I feel so upset, how are ED going to fix this.

hey anon!

we’re synched up bless

ok think of it this way

this break up - yes it’s about the baby and it’s  about rebecca - but really, it’s about aaron and robert - and it started back in january

like - robert and aaron argued and it was huge, monumental. rob tried to move out, tried to call off the wedding. aaron flipped and put kasim in a coma. 

in their next scene, when aaron is still reeling, aaron says “i love you but i hate who i am around you”. like. aaron was already struggling so much. and that was his own shit, more than anything - beating up kasim wasn’t robert’s doing. even aaron’s jealousy, while yes, was rooted in robert’s behaviour at some level, was more a sign of his mental state

and then the police rock up and they get so distracted by the thought that they almost lost each other, could still lose one another, that they cling onto one another with both hands, completely ignoring the fight they had on the night before they were supposed to elope.

but aaron is still in a bad space and he’s having panic attacks and he’s just... struggling - and he’s worried about robert leaving him and about liv

so rob throws him a wedding, as a way to solidify the little family they’ve made and aaron is the happiest he’s ever been, until right at the end, where he admits he’s scared and he and robert have that lifechangingly beautiful conversation - and then follow it up the next day with their goodbyes

prison only makes things worse for aaron and it starts robert down a much darker path too - all of a sudden, it’s not just aaron who is struggling, but we see robert unable to sleep, on constant high alert, sad and lost

aaron has, obviously, a worse time than anyone could have imagined and it breaks him completely

this in turn ends up accidentally breaking robert and he ends up sleeping with rebecca

aaron gets out, talks to robert openly, finally, about what he went through. they end up going away for a month and from what rob says during the reveal, aaron starts to get back to his old self again (which we see for ourselves too).

they talk about it a lot during the reveal - aaron’s mh, robert’s own state of mind, how they’ve dealt, how they’re going to deal. we know that aaron sees the broken bottle and we don’t know what happens there - he ends up going to his therapist, but that’s still very much in his mind. he’s still struggling.

aaron decides to stay with robert and forgive him - and fuck, watch aaron say that line to robert again. he says it so quietly, only gets half the fucking words out. watch aaron’s face from that point onwards. i think... i think aaron just desperately wants to stay with robert, because he loves robert and he doesn’t want to be without robert, but he also looks so unsure. like. i think aaron knew, just as he knew back in january, something wasn’t working. i think he gave into his own desires and ignored what he also knew would be better for his mh - to leave and take some time to get himself better. doing it in this situation that is so fraught, has so many problems, is just... it wasn’t helping him at all.

then, to top it all off, we see aaron and robert find out that the baby is still a reality and it’s even worse. aaron immediately goes into supportive mode and this lasts a short amount of time, before he stops being able to keep it up. robert starts off in snappy attack dog mode and softens pretty quickly - but all in all, what results is that aaron and robert clearly haven’t had sex since the reveal, aaron has isolated himself repeatedly and robert has sort of tried to get him to talk but hasn’t succeeded at all and hasn’t really pushed all that much. at some point aaron starts self harming again. he tries to buy spice again, gets attacked by jason for his troubles. 

ultimately, we see aaron and robert fighting, trying to end it and not quite doing it. they decide to run away, that maybe that will help, if they get out of the situation and away from the baby entirely -

and again, they haven’t spoken about it but although the baby started it again, this ultimately started long before the baby was even a possibility, so it never would have worked 

- and then aaron is in the car with adam and he sees the scan and throws that wrench at robert’s head.

and the thing is - up until that point, aaron’s behaviour has hurt kasim and it’s hurt himself, but it had never hurt robert. and it’s at that point that aaron shuts down and shuts robert out entirely.

this is the point where aaron talks about how they do this to each other - push each other, how they can hurt one another and how it’s not good for either of them. it’s not just about aaron anymore, it’s about robert potentially getting hurt too - and this is what ultimately makes aaron leave.

and then aaron comes back, walls up, refusing to give robert even an inch - because he knows if he does, he’ll be right back there. it would be so so so easy for aaron to give in all over again - he’s done it every single break up before (#shameless self promo have a read through my break up guides)

and it leaves robert feeling entirely fucking bereft, like hope is gone and he’s lost aaron entirely

- because aaron is codependant in their relationship but robert is codependant as a person and he cannot even begin to understand really what aaron is trying to say - all robert knows is that they love each other

and i think ultimately they need that absurd balance - robert being there to keep them going, having that rock solid faith in them - and aaron being there to put a stop to things when it gets dangerous, to bring them a little more down to earth when they need to, like now, where aaron really does need to be alone in order to try and work through his shit

and where robert actually also does need to be alone to try and work out how to be single, bc he’s incapable of it, and develop a healthier relationship with himself too so that eventually his relationship with aaron will be healthier

that’s not what he’s gonna do tho he’s gonna slip larry some sleeping pills and take over home farm instead

but like - this break up could have been about how robert did something unforgivable, they could have set robert up to have a full on affair with rebecca, they could have done any number of things...

but instead they told this story - horribly depressing and heartbreaking, and yes maybe in some ways it feels hopeless, but in other ways i think it’s actually the exact opposite - it’s about addressing issues that have been prevalent for so long, about the way they’re entirely unable to communicate and it’s been told so so so slowly and

and what i’m saying is that this story has spanned 8 months and is still going and it has been entirely about their love for one another and the struggle they’ve faced and tbh you don’t do that for a couple you plan to drop forever

like... look how in love they still look with one another

like they do - despite all appearances - put a lot of care into robert and aaron’s storyline

just... look at the pete/leyla/priya mess and tell me you don’t see a difference

or any of the couples, honestly. it’s absurd. they put so much care into showing how in love they are that all the other couples on the show feel a little ridiculous next to them??????? you don’t do that for a couple that’s never going to get back together

and look at how much fallout vic and adam got

(any fallout they’ve had has basically been related to robert and aaron it’s absurd)

they’re gonna be fine. it’s the ‘when’ more than the ‘if’ right now. they’ve just gotta get this whole white scheme out of the way first lmao.

[craft-rose]

fire and whiskey (dramione)

Title: fire and whiskey

Pairing: Draco/Hermione

Rating: M

Description: Draco finds himself living a Muggle lifestyle, up to and including purchasing a smartphone and using a dating app made for Muggle-borns and Half-bloods. There, he stumbles upon the profile of the last witch he had ever expected to find. (Inspired by one of my earlier works, Vibrations. Also inspired by Tinder lmao.)

Draco glanced down at the Muggle device as a notification popped up on the screen, the mixed ambiance of rain and crackling fire logs fading deep into the background of his private residence. He had only just figured out how to use the damned thing and it was already vibrating harder and louder than any device his ex-girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, had ever used.

With a reluctant sigh, he lowered the volume on his television and grabbed his smartphone from the coffee table, holding it right up to his face and staring at the notification as if it had been sent to him in a foreign language.

Thank you for joining eMatchic! Your adventure awaits.  

The bloke at the phone shop had insisted that Draco sign up for eMatchic. It was apparently all the rage amongst Muggle-borns and Half-bloods. Anyone who lived any semblance of a Muggle life, really. In all honesty, Draco had forgotten all about it. The entire concept was a little sterile for his personal tastes. He preferred meeting his partners the old fashioned way. But he had to admit, after having his wand taken away and his Healer license revoked, he had really, truly lost the will to show his face in public.

He barely remembered the last time he had gone on a date, let alone had sex.

On somewhat of a whim, he propped his legs up on the coffee table and leaned back comfortably, punching his passcode into the phone and tapping the eMatchic icon to see for himself what all the fuss was about.

The actions were simple enough. Swipe left if they’re a minger and swipe right if they’re not, as Phone Shop Bloke had so eloquently described. In most ways it was rather barbaric, but it wasn’t much different than real life, he supposed. In the old days it was as simple as walking into a pub on a Friday night and chatting up the most beautiful witch there. At least on the app, there was the option of viewing ages and interests and political views.

To his surprise there were quite a few attractive witches floating about on the app. Most were either too young or too old and most appeared to be looking for something serious, but there was this one … a Muggle-born witch whose photo had made his heart skip the second he saw it. The only time in his life where he remembered having that kind of redaction was in his fourth year, the first time he laid eyes on Fleur Delacour. Granted, this Muggle-born was nowhere near Delacour in terms of looks, but that wasn’t the point.

He had seen her before.

In fact, he had seen her nearly everyday for the larger part of his adolescence.

Hermione Granger

Age: 28

Draco zoomed in on the photo as if to verify that it was really her. In it, she was seated outside of a café in Paris, breaking off a piece of a pastry while smiling for the photo. Judging by the angle, someone else had taken it. Weasley? Last he checked, they were still together. They could very well have broken up for all he knew, but there was a stronger chance that some random person was only pretending to be her.

He imagined the real Granger hadn’t the time to go on dating apps and browse for hookups. 

Isn't she too busy saving the world?

On yet another whim, he decided to do some investigative work. With a mouthful of firewhiskey burning the back of his throat, Draco swiped right on the obviously fake Hermione Granger, and then swiftly redirected his attention to the television, waiting all of thirty minutes before a second notification popped on his phone.

Congratulations! You have a new match on eMatchic.

Draco returned from the kitchen with his first refill of firewhiskey, having half expected his little investigation to have gone nowhere. Only mildly interested in seeing what the imposter had to say, he plopped down on his couch and lazily grabbed his phone, opening eMatchic to find that someone else had matched with him. An older witch from Belfast. Julie something or other.

Ignoring the twitch of disappointment in his stomach, he tossed his phone away and raised the volume on his television, trying his absolute best to pay attention to whatever the fuck was going on in Winterfell. He had to admit, the Muggle interpretation of fantasy worlds and magic, had always interested him to some degree. Although there were no Tyrion Lannister’s or Ned Stark’s in real life, there were more than a few Littlefinger’s. Also, for some inexplicable reason, he had always felt a sense of familiarity when watching Joffrey’s early scenes, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out how or why.

It was only as he fell deep into storyline, that his phone vibrated again.

Congratulations! You have a new match on eMatchic.

For a split second he considered ignoring it. There was a good chance it was just another random match, probably with that witch from London, the mental image of her long, flowing auburn hair tipping him so close to the edge of no return that he really had no choice but to check.

Immediately grabbing his phone, he opened the app for the third time, ready to send Rachel from London a line, only to feel his stomach lurch. Instead of long, flowing auburn hair, he found soft, curly chestnut hair, and instead of Rachel, he found Granger.

It’s not her. It can’t be her.

There was no conceivable way the real Granger would have swiped right on him. More than ever  he felt this person was an imposter. They had to be. With another mouthful of firewhiskey, Draco leaned forward utterly focused and typed the first message he could think of.

From: Draco Malfoy

How many people do you fool on a daily basis?

Within thirty seconds, his phone vibrated in the palm of his hand, a response waiting for him.

From: Hermione Granger

I beg your pardon?

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

From: Draco Malfoy

I’m nowhere near drunk enough to play along. Do the right thing and delete the account. Posing as someone else will get you nowhere.

From: Hermione Granger

Funny that you of all people should mention doing the right thing.

Lifting an eyebrow at the sheer disrespect, Draco knocked back another mouthful of firewhiskey, typing the first thing he could of.

From: Draco Malfoy

I see you’ve been reading The Daily Prophet. Well done! Ten points to Gryffindor … or whatever Hogwarts House the real you was sorted into.

There was something about the tone of their messages which screamed Slytherin, but they could just as easily have been a Ravenclaw with no social skills.

From: Hermione Granger

Ah, yes. News of your malpractice has made the front page for two straight weeks. Finally you’re getting the attention you’ve always wanted. At the expense of your Healer license, but still. Go you.

This time he actually did roll his eyes.

From: Draco Malfoy

Who are you to judge? If you’re going to pretend to be someone else on a dating app, aim lower.

From: Hermione Granger

What is that supposed to mean?

Finishing off the rest of his drink, Draco leaned back, stretching the kinks out of his neck.

From: Draco Malfoy

Well, for one, I’m quite sure she’s still in a relationship with Ron Weasley. If you want to really fool people, you should have gone with someone else, like Luna Lovegood or Ginny Weasley. They’re known and attractive enough to get you the attention you’re looking for, but they’re nowhere near Granger level.

Before he had so much as set his phone down, he felt it vibrate.

From: Hermione Granger

That sounds dangerously close to a compliment.

His lips hovered on the edge of a smirk.

From: Draco Malfoy

I may be judgmental but I’m not blind. 

From: Hermione Granger

I suppose that’s your backwards way of saying she’s pretty.

From: Draco Malfoy

She’s not completely undesirable. 

From: Hermione Granger

Somehow, I had always sensed that you were secretly attracted to her.

His eyebrows bounced up. 

From: Draco Malfoy

Ah, so you know her? That adds a whole new layer to this investigation.

From: Hermione Granger

As a matter of fact I know her quite well.

From: Draco Malfoy

Well enough that you would pretend to be her on a dating app while she’s still in a relationship?

From: Hermione Granger

She and Ron aren’t together anymore.

From: Draco Malfoy

I’m going to need proof.

From: Hermione Granger

It’s all over The Daily Prophet. He’s dating Tracey Davis now. One of your friends, I believe?

With a curious twitch in his gut, Draco grabbed the latest copy of The Daily Prophet, shocked to find that the imposter was right. Weasley was dating Tracey. Not only dating, but engaged to marry. 

From: Draco Malfoy

Odd that he would get engaged so quickly after a breakup.

From: Hermione Granger

I don’t disagree. 

From: Draco Malfoy

You don’t think Granger’s going through enough? Why pretend to be her on top of everything?

From: Hermione Granger

Careful now. If I didn’t know any better, I’d fool myself into thinking you might actually care.

From: Draco Malfoy

What makes you think I don’t?

From: Hermione Granger

You’re a Malfoy.

Cracking his first smile in weeks, he lifted his legs onto the couch, spreading across.

From: Draco Malfoy

Fair enough. So besides the malpractice and my being an overall asshole, what else do you know about me?

From: Hermione Granger

I know that you were once in a very tumultuous relationship with Pansy Parkinson, I know that another imposter once transfigured you into a ferret in your fourth year of school, and I know that you smuggled those ingredients into the country in order to brew a very specific potion. A potion that heals all wounds, all scars and all markings that are better left unseen.

His smile quickly faded.

From: Draco Malfoy

Careful now. If I didn’t know any better, I’d fool myself into thinking you actually are Hermione Granger.

From: Hermione Granger

What if I am?

From: Draco Malfoy

I would first ask why you swiped right on me.

From: Hermione Granger

And I would say that I swiped right because I was curious … in a few different ways.

Something in his chest gently twisted. 

From: Draco Malfoy

Like?

From: Hermione Granger

Well, it’s not everyday you find purebloods on eMatchic. That, and I was curious to see if you had swiped right on me, which you had, but only because you think I’m an imposter.

From: Draco Malfoy

Aren’t you?

From: Hermione Granger

That depends.

From: Draco Malfoy

On?

From: Hermione Granger

Would you have swiped right otherwise?

He thought about it for a long moment, the answer creeping its way through his subconscious.

On the one hand, he had neither seen nor spoken to Granger since they were in school, and there was still a good chance he was talking to an imposter. But on the other hand ... he felt good. Not just because of the firewhiskey. He felt truly good. And the more thought about it, the less he wanted to know. 

When had knowing ever done anyone any good? 

From: Draco Malfoy

Regardless of who you are, this is the most I’ve talked to anyone in weeks.

From: Hermione Granger

We probably shouldn’t ruin it, then.

From: Draco Malfoy

Probably.

A/N: I will be adding to this, but my other WIP’s are priority right now. Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this first bit. The format is a little odd, I know. I’ll try to smooth it out in the next chapter. 

[cryokinesisandlight]

EXO KoKoBop Criminal AU

With the new concept I got a new AU ... 

Yes, I have a criminal AU based on KoKoBop because why not and I want to talk about it because there's no actual story connected to it, just a bunch of babes~

It’s gonna be a long post, though. 

This is kind of a lazy gang but I love them.

Minseok (Xiumin) is the leader and he doesn't really do much right now other than being soft and kissing his babes. It's not really some kind of harem or whatever because it's mostly just platonic kisses but he just cares for the members so. fucking. much like where would he be without them? 

That's a good question and also he would probably be in jail, not because he'd get caught but just because what's the fun in doing soft crimes and stuff if you're all lonely? 

So yeah, he has done most of what the others do but they do it far better than he does - and because he's got an organized mind and is really good at figuring out how to work everything so nothing ever goes wrong, he's just ... the leader. 

Honestly, he doesn't look like the leader at all but hey, that's good because nobody would actually think he could do the shit he does. And if you were to betray him, he would kiss your temple right before he cuts your throat. That's my boy Minseok.

Jongin (or Junghwa, maybe Junghwa tbh) is 2nd in command but only because they're romantically involved with Xiumin lmao. Like that's literally it. The two of them just love each other a little more than they love the rest of the members. They're also the scariest member of the gang outside of Xiumin whose appearance betrays his mind. 

Either way, Jongin/Junghwa is scary as fuck. They do most of the murders and honestly, they mostly do them for Chanyeol's sake but they can do them for any of the gang members. They enjoy it, the desperation of their victim as they stare death in the eyes. Exhilarating! And it's just so enjoyable to lift that gun, aim that knife, press those fingers into throats. 

Jongin/Junghwa loves looking into the eyes of their victims to really see the fear and they honestly have absolutely no trouble killing kids either. 

There's nothing psychopathic over them as such, though. Emotions fully intact, moral code just completely screwed. 

They love cuddling after a job well done tho and they sleep practically 15 hours a day so most of the time they look so so so soft and approachable lmao.

Chen (Jongdae) is the information. Mostly he gets it from eavesdropping and monitoring the police and the political people but sometimes he also gets it on the streets. Honestly, Jongdae is so wild on the streets like he can sniff up the most irrelevant information and still have it be relevant. Ask about anyone and Jongdae will get you information. 

He's got a lot of informants as well. Actually he prefers everything but hacking because hacking is really really boring and it leaves him alone in front of a computer. He's a social guy, man, what did you expect? 

He knows how to hack, though, but it's just not something he does if he can avoid it. Getting information the old way is preferred. 

Jongdae used to be a spy for North Korea but then he ended up liking South Korea too much so he defected and found Xiumin and Jongin/Junghwa instead and hey, that was pretty good as well. 

Jongdae has gotten new identities countless of times but hey, with a guy like Chanyeol, it couldn't get any easier.

So yeah, lets talk about Chanyeol because now I've mentioned him twice, haha. Chanyeol does ghosting. That's primarily his job and oh boy does he enjoy it. In case you don't know what ghosting is, it's taking the identity of someone that few people know has died. 

And that's where Jongin/Junghwa comes into their partnership because what better way than to steal a dead person's identity than to kill them first? 

That way very few people will know they have died (if any at all) and fixing passport photos etc. is a piece of cake. So mostly they ghost when they need knew identities because that way they can take on a "living" person's identity and if everything else fits (age, appearance to a certain extent, nationality and so on) then why not? 

He can make fake identities from scratch as well but that requires more work and Chanyeol actually likes ghosting. To think of the lives they overtake and wonder who they were in the past. 

Oh, to dig up all those childhood memories of the ghost and hand them to a member - what a joy. 

Chanyeol honestly lives for ghosting. 

He's also tall as fuck and has a wide smile on his lips so being in public is not really any problem and - seriously, Chanyeol has so much free time, what is he gonna do with it?

Which leads us to Joonmyun. Not really but I want to talk about Joonmyun. So ... Joonmyun actually does a lot of the footwork in the gang. How boring, now isn't it? Okay, no, not really. 

Joonmyun is a total babe and mostly he just sets stuff on fire. 

Arson is his specialty and he's developed his own way of doing it. Like you just know when it's EXO's arsonist that has been lighting fires but nobody is able to catch him because he's just that sneaky. 

He's so good at what he does, though, because he lingers in the night and also looks like a normal business man at day, assessing the buildings, how to light them on fire subtly and makes mental notes for days or even weeks. 

Every arson is so well-planned that it's just impossible to trace it back to him, yet at the same time there's just this thing that makes it his entirely. 

He also does drugs as in he sells them. Sometimes he hands them out at night clubs because why the fuck not and he's got that dealer reputation but nobody really dares take him down as a dealer either because Joonmyun is the perfect liar and he can get away with everything. 

Smooth motherfucker really.

Let's talk about Soo next. I kind of want it to be Sookyung, though. She's a badass woman. She holds a master in biochemistry and that's actually her best weapon. She spends most of her time in labs and she hates noise and bothersome gang members that just wants to cuddle like get the fuck out of her lab. Right now. 

She is actually kind of harmless, even if she's also the most deadlist.

Sookyung usually makes CBRN threats. She has yet to actually release anything to create a contamination but that's beside the question. The threats are definitely enough to have people do their bidding, especially political people. 

If you don't know what CBRN stands for, it's an abbreviation of Chemical, Biological, Radiological, Nuclear and it's used as either attacks, defense or happens as accidents, usually with quite horrible consequences. 

While Sookyung deals mostly with the Chemical and the Biological aspect of CBRN, she has knowledge of the other two as well. She doesn't really use them for consequences but rather nurses her vira and bacteria and tries to combine and create new fatal chemicals. 

She's a little introverted and mostly wears a scowl on her face but she's also fiercely loyal and when she's comfortable she can speak for hours about her small microscopic children. 

She prefers Xiumin, Jongin/Junghwa, Seyoon and Lay over the talkative members such as Jongdae, Chanyeol and Baekhyun.

Lay operates in a business suit as he walks around in the daylight and looks into numbers. He works top jobs and steals millions of money with fraud, but he's the kindest person on Earth and nobody would consider him worthy of such crimes. 

He's intelligent as fuck, often leading to confusing moments and he's often far ahead compared to the people around him. It makes him seem rather dazed and sometimes people think he smokes weed. Yixing has never touched such substances, though, his intelligence just puts him on another level. 

Fraud keeps him sane and he loves tempering with the numbers, watching his own bank account grow as he empties banks and large companies before he moves onto the next one. 

Originally from China, he has contacts in China as well and sometimes operate there. He likes traveling around the world and Xiumin mostly lets him. 

Innocence is his appearance and nobody would suspect a bad bone in him. Too bad they're wrong.

Baekhyun and Seyoon have a small competition, but let's talk about Baekhyun first.

Baekhyun is a thief. He likes action and stuff happening and if he's without his gun it's all just wrong. That's why he has found solitude in robberies and shoplifting, stealing mostly in broad daylight where the chance of getting caught is high. 

But Baekhyun is also like a magician and even if he is caught, there's no way to find the stolen goods on him. He cannot be spotted on cameras and he's like a chameleon as he blends in with people. He's absolutely sneaky and he's so observant. 

Baekhyun always knows the trends, come to Baekhyun for anything and he will know. The most social of them all (although followed closely by Jongdae) Baekhyun loves to be where people are. 

He also pickpockets and he's good at it. Refined pickpocketing with a dash of excitement is his specialty along with the shoplifting and the robberies. 

It isn't uncommon that he shoplifts something none of the other members of the gang don't think they need such as expensive wine, Hawaiian shirts and sunglasses.

Seyoon is also a thief, but she has specialised in much more refined theft. 

Her specialty is racketeering and her patience and persistence is what lets her get away with it. She plays on fear and often convinces her victims they need the protection she offers, even if the danger is completely fictional. She enjoys the smooth lie that slips through her lips and the fear she can instill in people, only to collect hard cash in her hands. 

She loves watching her bank account grow with deposits and her lips are usually curled into a small smile. She's cocky as fuck and considers her work the most important for the gang. Where would they be without her really. 

She also does pickpocketing because she cannot let Baekhyun have all the fun. 

While she isn't as extroverted and social as he, she has the benefit of her good looks and men are so easy to pickpocket when they're drunk. Her playing field is clubs and bars and she rarely sets foot in a shopping mall.

At the end of the day, she and Baekhyun always counts who got most money from their pickpocketing and while Baekhyun often wins, Seyoon still considers herself a more successful thief. After all, she does the refined theft.

I'm not even sure this gang could work in the real world, but they're important and soft and even though they don't necessarily do all the dirty work with extreme violence and such they still have enough money and most certainly enough power to secretly run the government. 

That said, they're usually also hidden from other gangs because of their little street-action and involvement with the rest of them.

Shimmy shimmy kokobop, I think I like it~

[lady-thor-foster]

Oh Captain! // Steve Rogers x Reader (P1)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x POC Reader, Nat x Bucky (WinterWidow) Word Count: 2k+ Warning: Language, Fluff, Smut, ‘Captain’ kink. This is a bit of a slow burn. I’m not sorry. 

Summary: How is Steve supposed to resist you when you call him Captain like that? How is anyone supposed to resist those god-forsakenly beautiful thighs? Naturally you both have to fuck it out; your only choice really. WinterWidow makes a brief appearance. Bonus: Tony Stark’s seal of approval.

A/N: Idk why my fics keep starting in the gym, maybe it’s a sneaky way of telling myself I need to work out more. Lmao, ignore me. I’m so sorry. This was supposed to me a short 500 or so word one shot but I’m a goddamn wordy ass ho with no self-control and a shitty understanding of the word ‘short’. Happy New Year everyone 

PART 2

Working out with Captain America was always a spectacle. No one could blame you really.

He always showed up to the training room in a white tee shirt that seemed just maybe a size too small and sweat pants that left nothing to the imagination. Literally not a damn thing. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was doing this on purpose. That man was a walking sex fantasy. You could literally create a successful porno of him just working out. Many of the women (and men, because hello, have you seen Steven Grant Rogers?) in the Tower had arranged their workout schedules around his; he pretended not to notice. On the plus side, everyone seemed to be in the best shape of their lives.

You couldn’t help yourself really; you’d be in the middle of a weight lifting set and would catch yourself inadvertently staring at Steve’s thighs, arms, not-so-subtle dick print, and that glorious chest, oh man his hands...basically any portion of his body that graced your line of sight. You’d catch him staring at you as well. Every time you did your squat sets you swore you could feel his baby blues staring holes into your ass. He might have been a complete gentleman, but you could always tell when a man was staring at your cleavage. It’s one of those skills that women just develop without even realising it. You frequently felt guilty for objectifying him this way but knowing he was doing the same went a long way to alleviate said guilt.

Today was one of those rare days where you and Steve had the training room all to yourself.

“Morning, Captain,” you all but purred. Goddammit Y/N, get yourself under control, you thought.

Steve felt his cock twitch at the sultriness of your tone. Fuck me. He’d never tell a soul but he loved the way you always called him that. You were an absolutely beautiful woman; he’d often catch himself deep in a fantasy of wondering just how delicious your dark copper skin tasted. He’d do almost anything to find out. Maybe today was a bad day to go commando, he wondered briefly.

He cleared his throat, “Good morning, Agent.” The deep brusqueness of his voice sent shivers down your spine. Get a grip, Y/N; he’s Captain America for crying out loud.

You both settled into your warm up routines; he started with a quick jog on the treadmill while you opted for yoga. There was one small problem. The yoga mats just happened to be in front of the treadmill station. Mentally scolding yourself, you decided you’d put all your focus into warming up and stretching. Steve seemed to be paying you no mind; a quick glance his way revealed he’d slipped on some comfy headphones and settled into an easy pace. Distracting yourself with the intensity of yoga worked…for about an hour. You were completely lost when Steve moved to that goddamn punching bag.

Steve wanted to kick himself for decided to start his warm up with a jog. How the hell could he have known you were going to choose yoga? It was a monumental effort to keep his breathing even especially when you did that one fucking pose where your shapely ass tormented him in all the best ways. Running with a raging erection was damn near impossible. They didn’t call him the Super Soldier for nothing. No matter what he did or how many mission reports he fought to focus on, he could not tear his eyes away from the erotic flexibility of your body. His mother would be ashamed; she didn’t raise him to objectify a woman like this, no matter how badly he craved her. Today was definitely a bad day to go commando. He moved to the punching bags hoping they would provide some relief or, at the very least, send his blood rushing somewhere else. It was a feeble attempt really.

If you looked up sexual tension in the dictionary, there’d be a gif of the two of you frustrated as hell working out in the Tower gym and uselessly pretending that you weren’t watching one another with sneaky lustful eyes. You couldn’t even remember how long it’d had been since you’d gotten laid. Working for SHIELD killed any attempt at a social life. Goddamn world governments who couldn’t seem to keep the peace long enough for you to pick up a hot man (or woman) and work out those sexual frustrations you’d racked up over long missions. Giving up on your yoga, you moved to the stationary bikes; perhaps cardio and sweat would burn this heat out of you. Your bastardly libido took that as a challenge.

From his position at the punching bags, Steve could see just how perfectly shaped your legs were on the stationary bikes. Fuck; there goes that raging erection again. Your long curly hair in a messy pony tail gave him unfettered access of your bouncing cleavage. Steve truly didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up. Thankfully, Nat decided to grace the gym with her presence.

“Y/N! Rogers! What are you two doing here so early?” she snickered. She picked up on the tension between the two of you months before.

“Oh you know, the early bird catches the worm and however the rest of that phrase goes,” you replied. She laughed and joined you at the bikes. She settled in with a warm up pace. Neither of you noticed how much harder Steve threw his punches at the sound of your voice. He could hear everything.

“Wanna tell me why it feels like a storm about to break in here?” she murmured just low enough for you to hear…so she thought.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your face was the picture of pure innocence…as long as you didn’t look at her.

“Oh come on, Y/N. You don’t honestly expect me to believe that?”

“Okay fine!” you hissed, “we’ve been here for the last hour and a half and I am reaching the limits of my self-control. Look at him, Nat. You can’t honestly tell me you don’t want to mount and ride him into the heavens.”

“I’ve got my own Super Soldier for that, Y/N/N.” This was news to you, as far as you knew, she and Barnes has just been flirting, heavily. You suppressed a squeal. This was serious business.

“Tell me something Nat,” you pondered aloud. She already knew where this was going.

“What’s up?”

“Does the serum really make him bigger all over?”

“Let’s just say, he definitely puts my flexibility to the test.” The two of you were giggling like high schoolers when you were suddenly greeted Bucky Barnes.

“Anyone want to tell me why Steve is over there punching the living hell out of those punching bags?” he asked worriedly. You found it endearing the way he and the Captain loved each other.

The first bag was a complete accident. It really was. When the words ‘mount and ride him into the heavens’ left your lips he was so stunned that he forgot to pull his punch to prevent real damage. It went flying. The second bag wasn’t so accidental. His brain tormented him with images of you riding him; fuck, how he wanted to sheath himself inside of you and forget everything else. It went flying too. The third bag wasn’t faring much better than is former counterparts.

Glancing over to Steve, you’d somehow missed the two punching bags he’d completely beaten into submission. They lay desecrated in a pile and leaking sand near him. It was an honorable death, really. It seemed the third was about to join them. Nat let out a low whistle; this was a whole new level of sexual frustration. You dismounted from your bike and made your way over to the horny soldier. He ceased his brutal assault on the bag the moment you crossed his line of sight.

“Y/N! What’s up?” Your quick and watchful eyes didn’t miss the way he licked his lips when he said your name. Damn that mouth haunted your dreams in all the best ways. A not so subtle glance to the front of his sweats told you all that you needed to know. Was he going commando?

“That’s what I was coming over to ask, Captain,” you gestured to the pile of bags, “is everything okay?”

“Just peachy.” If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you’d have believed that lie. Unbeknownst to the two of you, Nat and Bucky crept quietly out of the gym. They had their own sexual tension to resolve.

He walked stiffly to the bench nearby and nearly crushed his water bottle. Taking a swig, he sighed heavily. Your knowing eyes never left his body as he moved to the free weights. Anyone else would have felt like some sort of stalker watching Captain America doing reps, you were so turned on that you couldn’t even be bothered to give a damn. His baby blues met your lustful gaze and he smirked.

“See anything you like?”

“What’s not to like about you, Captain? You’re like walking kryptonite,” you teased. This ‘harmless’ flirting had to peak eventually right? Steve set the free weight back on its shelf and took a deep breath. Your earlier words echoed in his mind; he decided it was now or never.

“Walking kryptonite? Is that the kind where you mount and ride me into the heavens?”

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a true reaction. It was time to be bold and brave. Steve held his breath awaiting your response.

“What can I say, Captain. Those thighs are the stuff of legends.”

“Why don’t you come closer and see if they live up to the fantasy?” His Captain voice sent blood rushing straight to your core. You certainly didn’t need to be told twice.

A few short paces later and you were straddling the impossibly tiny waist of your long standing crush. His massive hands slid up your back and freed your tight ponytail. You sighed in relief. The skin tight yoga pants you were wearing did nothing to mask the feeling of his thick cock against your aching cunt. Those plump pink lips were mere inches from yours; something seemed to hold him back.

“Are you sure about this, darlin’?” he asked. Ever the gentleman, it seems.

“Captain, I swear to go-” A bruising kiss cut off your threat. Finally. There was a surprising amount of gentleness in the kiss; the softness of his full lips felt like heaven moving against your own. Steve could never have imagined he’d find someone who truly kissed him breathless. Not since Peggy. He loved the feeling of your short nails digging into his shoulders; he tried his best not to crush you to his chest in an effort to hold you closer. Suddenly, the intercom crackled overhead.

“As happy as I am that the two of you are finally working out your issues, please, for the love of all that is star spangled, not in the gym. I just had it disinfected from the last time Bucky and Nat were left alone too long,” asked Tony Stark. Big Brother sees all, apparently.

With a chuckle, you pulled away from Steve’s kisses. “We hear you loud and clear, Stark.”

Steve was content to just hold you in his arms while you sat in his lap. His cock had other ideas. The heat from your core caused him to throb; your eyes fluttered closed and you moaned softly at the feeling. Steve was immediately intoxicated by the sound. He thrust against you gently, hoping to hear you make it again. Your eyes snapped open at his teasing movements. Leveling him at him with a narrowed gaze, you cocked your head to the side. His poker face revealed absolutely nothing in spite of the mischievous twinkle in his pretty blue eyes; Barnes had taught him well. Two can play that game, you thought. Rolling your slowly hips into his, you leaned into his ear and bit gently. This time his hips bucked involuntarily.

“Bedroom,” you whispered. Steve wasted no time. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he carried you from the gym, down the hall to his quarters. You grinned cheekily at Sam and Wanda who hooted and clapped in approval.

This was gonna be fun.

END P1

Tags (open)

@redstarstan​ @festivelancefuckrr​ @emilyevanston​ @ek823​ @sebbymylove16​ @iarnasoldat​ @interestedbystanderwrites