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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years ago

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Defender, Protector, Keeper

Part 2

A/N: This is a second part to the mom!reader x Arthur fic with mute the reader’s mute son, Ben, that I posted a bit ago.

Warnings: it’s implied that the reader is a prostitute, violence but nothing outside of canon, fluffy

Word Count: 2.6k

***

You hummed softly as you pushed the needle through Ben’s shirt. He had a little too much fun playing tag with Jack earlier that day and the two ended up tumbling down a little hill just beyond camp. Luckily, no one was hurt but Ben tore a hole in the elbow of his shirt and Jack tore a hole in the knee of his breeches.

There was a tug on your sleeve, pulling your attention away from the shirt in your hand. Ben stood by your chair. He was sleepy, eyes half shut and head falling forward.

“You should be sleeping, my love.”

He put his head against your arm, rubbing his eyes and then his nose on your sleeve.

“Benjamin.” You scolded himself softly.

He made an attempt to crawl up into your lap but you stopped him.

“Ben, I’ve got a needle in my hand, love. I can’t hold you.”

“I can finish that up for you, Y/N.” Abigail offered, placing the breeches of Jack’s down on the table.

“He just…. Thank you, Abigail.” You passed the shirt to her before picking your son up. “Sometimes he just needs a little extra attention before bed. It’s hard for him to fall asleep.”

“Jack was the same way, especially in Colter.”

You were thankful she understood.

“You baby that boy too much.” Bill commented as he passed by the fire you sat at.

You ignored him while Abigail wrinkled her nose at him.

“Don’t pay no mind to what that man says, Y/N.”

“Oh, I don’t.” You gave her a smile, brushing your fingers over Ben’s hair. He tucked his nose into your collarbone. “He isn’t worth my time.”

“Good. No man here is worth your time.”

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.” Dutch approached you, eyes flickered down to Ben. “Is the boy asleep?”

“Not yet.” You answered. “What can I do for you, Mr. Dutch?”

“Well, I have got a bit of a favor to ask of you, miss.” He pulled out a chair next to you and sat down. “As you know, we have a job coming tomorrow afternoon involving a train in Valentine. It’s simple and easy, but I am afraid I need one more person to join my boys. A lady to keep them proper. Miss Jones is healing her unfortunate leg injury, and Miss Gaskill and Miss Jackson are a bit too young for the task at hand.”

“Which is?”

“Well, my dear, it is something more…. in your field of expertise.”

You looked down at Ben, rubbing his back. He was watching Dutch, fighting off the urge to fall asleep.

You didn’t like that Dutch was bringing the subject of your work up in front of your son, but you appreciated that he was being discreet about it.

“Who is going?”

“Mr. Morgan is taking Mr. Escuella, Mr. MacGuire, Mr. Summers, and Mr. Williamson.”

You didn’t want to go, but you didn’t have much of a choice. If you said no, it would appear as if you were lazy and weren’t willing to commit crimes with them. What if they thought you would turn against them if the law came to you?

You looked up at Dutch, smiling softly.

“Just let me know when we leave.”

“Good, Miss Y/L/N. I think you’ll fit in nicely with us.” He patted your shoulder before leaving.

Ben shifted in your lap, tucking his nose into your neck. You kissed his hair.

“We should get you to bed, Mister Ben.”

***

“Dutch, I don’t like it.”

“Why not?”

There was a pause.

You continued to hang up damp laundry to dry, trying not to pay attention to Dutch’s private conversation with a few of the men who would be going on the job later on.

“Well, for one she’s got a kid. What if something happens to her?”

“Nothing is going to happen to her because you will be there to make sure nothing happens to her. Do you doubt your abilities, Arthur?”

“No.” He grumbled.

“I don’t think we need a lady goin’ with us, Dutch.” Bill didn’t bother to keep his voice down like Arthur had. “Us men can get the job done just fine.”

“I believe you, Bill, but Miss Y/L/N is going along with you to ensure that you get everything you need from our target. He’s a sleezy man, and another man won’t get out of him the information we need.”

You stiffened up a little, your fingers curling tightly around the breeches in your hands.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bill and Javier exit Dutch’s tent.

“Dutch, please, just listen to me a moment–,”

“I am listening to you, Arthur, but your suggestions are leaving me with no viable options. We need Y/N.”

“Not like this. This-This is not something she should be doin’. Abigail don’t do it no more. She’s a mother too. Y/N should be here with Ben–,”

“I am not forcing anyone in this camp to do anything they are not comfortable with, Arthur.” Dutch’s tone became a bit more sharp. “If you have problems with what she is doing, take it up with her.”

You turned your head to watch Arthur leave the tent and hastily walk across camp. You smiled just a little. He was a nice man. You wondered how he got so caught up in this world.

***

“I promise you he will be okay here with us, Y/N.”

“I know.” You chewed on your bottom lip.

Your eyes stayed Jack and Ben. They were knelt down at a patch of dirt digging with a couple sticks. Abigail sat next to you as she tried her best to comfort you.

“I just…. I worry. Micah isn’t going with us and you know how he picks on Ben.”

“Micah will do no such thing.” Abigail shook her head. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You knew she’d keep a good watch of your son, but you still couldn’t help feeling nervous.

“Mr. Smith?” Abigail waved at him as he passed the table.

You turned your attention to him, giving him a smile.

“Good evening, ladies.”

“Charles.” Abigail put her hand on his shoulder. “Please, can you tell Y/N that Ben will be safe while she’s gone.”

“Of course he will be.” Charles nodded.

“I know, I know.” You brushed a few curls back out of your face.

“To be worried is understandable.”

“She’s worried about Micah.” Abigail told him. “You know how that nasty man has been towards Ben since they got here.”

Charles looked at Ben then to Micah across camp, then finally to you.

“I won’t let anything happen to Ben.”

You opened your mouth to thank him when Arthur called for you from across camp.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith. And thank you again, Abigail.”

You turned to go towards the horses where Arthur and the other men were waiting for you.

Sean wolf whistled.

“Look at you, Miss Y/N! You look extraordinary!”

“Don’t whistle at the lady like a dog, Sean.” Arthur scolded.

“It was a compliment.”

“I’m sure it was.” The dirty blond grunted. “Alright. Javier and Bill have already gone into Valentine to wait for us at the train station. Lenny and Sean, you two go on ahead. We don’t wanna arrive at the same time and make anyone suspicious of us.”

“Ain’t nothin’ more suspicious than the look of your ugly mug, Arthur Morgan.”

Arthur gave Sean a shove towards his horse.

“You’ll be riding with me, Miss Y/L/N.” Arthur watched Lenny and Sean leave before turning his attention to you. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Not at all.” You shook your head with a little smile.

Arthur nodded, leaning against the hitching post his horse was tethered to. He pulled out a carton of cigarettes and offered you one. You shook your head with a ‘no thank you’ and moved to pet his horse, a beautiful silver dapple pinto named Ruby.

“You, um, look very nice today, miss.” Arthur held the cigarette between his lips, striking the match on the wood of the post he was against.

“Thank you.” You shyly smiled.

You were dressed up rather nicely for today’s job. The dress you wore was dark blue with gray trim around the bottom of the skirt and the cuffs of the sleeves. It was one of your nicer dresses you rarely wore now that you were mostly bound to Horseshoe Overlook.

“How’s your boy doin’?”

“Ben is well.” You rubbed Ruby’s nose, smiling as she huffed at you. “He’s getting along great with Jack. The two are practically best friends. And everyone here has taken kindly to him for the most part.”

Arthur smiled and nodded.

“That’s good to hear. Jack was in need of a friend.”

“So was Ben. This is what we needed.”

Arthur finished his cigarette and tossed it to the ground.

“I reckon we better get goin’. Can’t leave those boys for too long. If you don’t mind, I’m going to ride behind you. Don’t want your skirt gettin’ dirtied up by Ruby. She’s in need of a bath soon.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind.” You smiled a little, giving Ruby one last pat before you mounted the horse.

Arthur got on behind you, carefully wrapping one arm around your waist.

“Is this alright?” He asked, his voice low and quiet. He didn’t want to do anything that made you uncomfortable.

“Yes.” You nodded, instinctively reaching up to place your hand over his arm. You made contact with his arm for only a few moments before placing your hand on the horn to the saddle.

***

You led the way through the train. Arthur was right behind you, his hand on the middle of your spine. You two sat down just across the aisle from Sean and Lenny.

“So who is the target?” You looked down the aisle, putting on a charming smile as a few men continued past you to get to another train car.

Arthur cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“Y/N. You-You know, there are other ways we could go about this.”

You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he meant.

“I’m afraid I’m not following you, Arthur.”

“I know Dutch told you that you’d be…. Well, that you’d be charmin’ this fella.”

You immediately looked away from him, your eyes finding the couple that sat diagonally across the aisle from you.

“But you don’t got to, Y/N–,”

“I know I don’t, Mr. Morgan.” You cut him off, smoothing your skirt out. “But that is what I’m good for.”

“That ain’t true–,”

“It is.” You put on a little smile to ease the tension and to make him feel as though the subject didn’t tear you up inside. “It is true, Mr. Morgan. Just as true as you are good with those guns and Mr. MacGuire is good at getting himself into trouble, I am good at…. at charming men, as you call it. We all have our own talents. It’s best that we use what we can do to help this gang, isn’t it?”

Arthur watched you for a few moments. You were good at putting on a show, at faking a content smile.

“Yeah, I suppose it is. M’sorry to bring it up.”

“No worries.” You shook your head softly. “Now, our target?”

As Arthur told you about the target, an older gentleman with pockets too deep for his own good, you subtly watched the couple across the aisle from you and Arthur.

They were a young couple dressed in nice clothes. They seemed rather infatuated with each other. He had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. They whispered in each other’s ears, not wanting the rest of the train to hear whatever words they were sharing.

You looked down at your hands, not realizing you were fisting the material of your skirt.

You let out a small breath and smoothed out the material.

“You alright, miss?” Arthur asked you.

You looked over to him, smiling just a little.

“Yes, I’m alright.”

***

You slipped down from Ruby, straightening your blouse, and then looked around camp. You couldn’t see your son and that worried you. But then you remembered it was late in the evening. He was probably asleep, and it was probably best that he wasn’t within your eyesight because you didn’t want to see him with the way you looked after the job.

“Arthur?” You stepped towards him, watching him as he tethered Ruby to the hitching post. “Can I ask a favor of you?”

“Course.”

“I-I don’t want Ben to see me like…. this.” You gestured to your face. “Would you mind going and seeing where he is?”

Arthur nodded his head, moving away from Ruby.

“Of course.”

“Just-Just keep him away from our tent, please. I’d really appreciate it.”

“Sure thing.”

You went to the tent you shared with Sadie and Karen and changed out of your clothes. Then you cleaned up your face. You had taken a few hits to the face, resulting in a bloody nose. A busted lip, and a bruise on the cheek.

As you exited the tent, you looked around camp.

“There she is!” Micah approached you first. “Our camp whore.”

“Watch your mouth.” You glared at him. You tried to step around him but he was persistent and stepped right into your way.

“I think we both got off on the wrong foot, sweetheart.” He held his hands up as if to prove he wasn’t a threat. But you still watched him cautiously. “You know, I think we’d be good acquaintances once we get to know each other.”

“I want to see my son, Micah.” You tried once more to get around him but this time his hands grabbed both arms and stopped you.

“Micah!” Dutch barked.

Instantly, the nasty blond man let you go and turned to face Dutch Van Der Linde.

Your eyes found the leader of the gang, taking note of the way his brows were furrowed together.

Behind him, something moved. Hosea shifted his weight from one foot to the other

“What were you doing?” Dutch asked Micah.

“Just making sure she was okay after that job.” Micah explained, the terrible excuse coming out quickly. “She looks pretty beat up and was walking pretty wobbly. I was afraid she’d fall right over. Didn’t want her to hit her head or nothin’.”

“I didn’t see her walking wobbly.” Hosea commented, earning a glare from Micah.

“Is everything alright, Miss Y/L/N?” Dutch’s attention turned to you.

“I was just going to see my son, Mr. Van Der Linde.” You explained.

“Do you feel okay?”

“I’ll feel better when I see him.”

Dutch nodded and gestured for you to leave.

***

When asked about your son’s whereabouts, Mrs. Grimshaw directed you to John and Abigail’s tent. John and Abigail themselves were awake and sitting around a fire, but Jack and Ben were sleeping together in the tent.

You pulled back the lapel of the tent and stepped inside. You were shocked to find Arthur sitting on a stool beside the cot Ben and Jack were sharing. Jack appeared to be fast asleep, but your little man was awake.

“Hello,Y/N.” Arthur stood up, taking his hat off. “I was just checkin’ on him and he was wide awake so I, um, I was keeping him company.”

“Thank you, Arthur.” You smiled, placing your hand on his arm.

The second Ben saw you, he was trying to climb out of bed. You stopped him, gently keeping him from getting out of bed.

“It’s alright, love. I’m here.” You kissed his forehead. “You should be sleeping.”

Ben pressed his forehead into your lips then pushed his face into your chest.

“I’ll leave you two be.” Arthur stood up, waving at your son. “Good night, Benny.”

Ben peaked out from around your shoulder, eyes finding the dirty blond man. He waved his fingers at Arthur, making the man smile widely.

“Good night, Arthur.”

Blue eyes flickered to meet yours.

“Good night, Miss Y/L/N.”

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If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan x reader fluff #rdr2 fic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan fic #oneshot #defender protector keeper #queenxxxsupreme

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yoondles · 3 years ago

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Grow As We Go - M.YG

CEO! Min Yoongi x CEO! Reader, Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: Marrying your ex isn’t really something you want to do.

Themes: Heavy angst, fluff if you squint for 2 seconds, smut, it ends happily.

Word count: 10k, Unedited

Inspo: Trivia: Seesaw by MYG & Grow As We Go by Ben Platt

Warnings: Yoongi calls you a whore, Yoongi’s pp is huge, reader is a virgin, talks about their toxic relationship, biting/nipping, breast play, light humiliation, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, creampie, unprotected seggs, mature language and that’s about it 😐.

A/N: lastly, I haven’t gotten the chance to proofread this and I’m sorry for any mistakes. This is my first fic so feel free to share your thoughts, thank youuu! 😭

You knew you were screwed. The way he held placed his hands inside his pocket, the heavy footsteps that would leave an impression to the carpeted floor of the airport, and the way his eyebrows arched. You were really fucking screwed.

It was the same posture he held one year ago, a few months prior to the separation that lead to the awkwardness that blossomed amidst your honeymoon days. It was eerie silence. You saw the way his veins would pop the moment he saw you as if he was clenching his jaw hard, trying to prevent himself from doing anything he regretted. You refused to make an eye contact with him.

The crowd was going wild, five months after your announced marriage, this was your first public appearance together, as a couple known by the entire nation. The fact that he was Min Yoongi didn’t help either, in fact, more people got interested in your relationship because it was about Min Yoongi.

He was one of the seven bachelors, the current head of BigHit Inc., a large conglomerate. He’s an adopted son of the late Mr. Bang, all of which grew to become individual talents, either blessed in terms of dancing, singing, poetry, even rapping. “Where the fuck have you been?” Cocking one of his brows up as he scrutinised you, looking at your small figure with an imposing look, something that would’ve threatened any normal citizen.

But not you. You knew Yoongi like the back of your hand. Having spent about 5 years of your life in an attempt to make the best out of your arranged marriage with him really helped out. Except for the fact that the two of you haven’t spoken for about one year prior to the wedding itself, and the fact that you were former lovers who decided it wouldn’t work out.

“Japan,” you shrugged him off, dismissing your assistant by giving him your luggage as you tried your best to hide your face from the agonising cameras that the paparazzi held against your face. Thankfully, they were kind enough to make way for the two of you, parting as the newly wedded pair made their way towards the vehicle.

He scoffed at your answer, baffled. He pushed his hair back in annoyance, “why didn’t you tell me anything about this?” You ignored him. Noticing the whispers and glances the people exchanged with one another. You were drifting away, pulled back to reality with the harsh grab you felt in your shoulder, stopping you from moving further. “About what?” You shook his hand off as you attempted to push through. The vehicle seemed to be moving further away from the two of you as tension was quick to rise.

“You, Japan?” You shook your head, walking a tad bit faster this time around. “Hello?” He spoke a bit louder this time, the large empty area made sure that everyone heard him. It was the echoes that reached you. “Just, let me get inside the car,” your voice was getting louder by the second, as the media started cluttering around the two of you, trying to get into the details of what seemed to be an argument between two of the richest heirs in South Korea.

“Can you let me talk to my fucking wife?” His voice was a tad bit louder than earlier, it was nothing that surprised you. He seemed to be fond with wanting himself heard, what shocked you though was the harsh grip that left you wincing as he pulled you inside the car. It was only when you were in front of the door that you managed to shake him off, opening the door yourself as you slumped against the leather seat.

Quickly, you turned away from him, closing your eyes as you forced yourself to shut him out. Pretending that Min Yoongi was a fragment of your imagination and he was no way real, that this was some made up bullshit you fantasised about at 3 AM. “Y/N!” He yelled out your name, anger evident in his voice, as the metal on his seatbelt crashed repeatedly against the plastic, cursing loudly as the driver began to move.

“You couldn’t have fucking waited, could you?!” The loud empty halls in your makeshift home was amplifying your voice. The loud banging of the door was your signal to continue your short rant regarding his unprofessional work, in front of the news outlets that would milk every second that passed in front of them.

“To hell with that, why didn’t you fucking tell me you were going to Japan?” You mocked his tone with a very small voice, removing your heels as you paraded the long hallway, rolling your eyes in the process. Coming to a halt the moment he pulled you back to him with a harsh tug on your wrist. You were quick to react, his face contorting as if confused as to whether he should apologise or continue his facade. “Why should I?” It was a push and pull type of relationship, undoing your dress in front of him was a huge part of the show.

The garment was quick to pool around your feet, swaying your hips gently as you flaunted your white pair of underwear. Moving towards the closet, eyes meeting his through the large mirror. For a moment he paused, taking a few seconds to glance at your body. Taking every curve, every mole, everything he could with such a short amount of time.

“Well, let me see. I’m your husband!”

“Legally, wouldn’t say I voluntarily married you.” You shrugged, grabbing the closest pair of pyjama you found. “Real mature, y/n. It would’ve been nice if I’d gotten a memo, you know?”

“It’s not like you would’ve cared.” You did your best in everything, and right now, pissing him off was on the top of your priorities. Casually grabbing the discarded garment as you walked outside your bedroom, dumping everything in the nearby laundry room, he continued to follow you around like a shadow.

You knew he was pissed. His breathing was a lot harsher, unlike earlier when he was wearing a mask, right now you could see he entirety of his face as he bit his lip in annoyance. “We’re going there, aren’t we?” You nodded, feeling a lot more giddy knowing you did your best to rile him up. Jumping your way towards the kitchen, greeting the maids as you walked over the counter, grabbing a yellow banana.

“Do you seriously think I have no right to know where you are? Is that another privilege I’m not entitled too, hm?”

“Yes, actually. I don’t want you meddling with my business, I want you as far away as possible.” He pursed his lips, placing his hands against his hips as he looked at you dumbfounded. “Contrary to your beliefs, I don’t care about your stupid company. I just want to know if my wife’s safe or if she’s dead.”

“Don’t use the wife card on me, Min Yoongi. Stop acting like you gave a damn about my well-being two weeks ago.” The air conditioning seemed to be working extra harder as the air surrounding the two of you seemed to be a lot more thicker and colder now. His eyebrow slowly arched upwards as he gazed at you, carefully shooting the banana peel inside the automated trash can.

Walking your way towards the fridge to grab a cold glass of water, as he intently gazed at you. “What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, offering him a glass of water before placing it back inside the fridge as you washed it yourself. “I’m just returning the favour, it’s not like I knew where you’ve been the past two months.”

Yoongi was confused, it was amusing to look at him, acting innocently after the crimes he’s committed just three months into the relationship that sealed the two of you towards a muddy path to eternity. “Two months? What?”

“Yes, I don’t fucking know where you’ve been, how you’ve managed to slither past my hands, and how you fucking act like you don’t have a wife at home.” That shut him up. It was silence that followed the short confession you managed to squeeze out after days if trying to keep everything together.

“So to hell with Japan, to hell with you trying to know where I’ve been. Because I’ve been clueless for the past two months, not once did you tell me you were off somewhere.”

It was oddly, fulfilling. To be able to give your pent up emotions some freedom after a few days of relaxation. It was a different kind of satisfaction when you saw the way his face moved, the way his facial features would move with every word that left your mouth. You saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, as if figuring out why everything had to happen.

It was at this moment you declared your first victory, moving past him, making sure to touch his shoulder with yours on the way out of the kitchen, locking yourself in your bedroom. Your own personal space, far away from what was intended to be your shared space. Because you and Min Yoongi both appreciated privacy far too much.

It was an immature fight, sure. But that was everything that you and Yoongi had been. Immature lovers who wanted each others’ time for each other, the only thing that you managed to do well was break up publicly and settling everything in private. That was a big enough red flag, however, there was an agreement older than the two of you. Somehow, it managed to slap you both in the back of your heads.

Your relationship with him remained platonic. As if nothing had changed between the two of you, like you were the same pair of lovers who broke up with one another one year ago. Living with him had been many things, it was very exhausting having to keep up with his lifestyle.

It was draining to the point of no return, where you’ve been pushed past all your limits and somehow he chooses to ignore everything instead of addressing it. And it had always been like that, was there not any growth? You assumed there would be some, at least a few, but you thought wrong.

You wanted everything to die out, before proceeding with your plans. The two of you had made an agreement that within the span of two years, you’d be out of the marriage. However, with his brothers growing massively successful, the press made sure to watch almost every movement Min Yoongi made. It doesn’t help that he was private, now that he had to be exposed the media tried its’ best to pry him open. So yes, it had been very exhausting. You only needed two years, and you’d be back to the same situation you had been before.

Eating dinner had been uneventful. It consisted of you looking for the perfect video to watch while sitting in the dining table, your food getting colder every minute that passed. As if you hadn’t had an argument earlier, you had no idea where Yoongi was, whether he was safe or if he was fucking another bitch in the club, hell, maybe he was with someone who could satiate his needs, be there for him, fill up whatever you space you failed to replenish.

Was it painful knowing that? Yes. You could be there for him, you wanted him to at least try and approach you as much as you tried to form a coherent bond with him. It won’t be the same as it was two years ago, but you at least wanted to have a friendship with him. You want the two of you to be able to talk to one another without yelling, cursing. You wanted something to happen, something that was better than your current situation.

Your two weeks in Japan had been the greatest time of your life since your marriage. You’d assume that working there would be no different than if you worked from home, however, there was no empty space in Japan. There was no Min Yoongi reminding you that you were married, yelling that you hated your current life situation and that you wanted to escape. It was a breath of fresh air, but it only lasted for a while, not after his secretary bombarded your secretary.

The door closed with a loud “bang!”. It was something you’ve gotten used to over the course of five months, because you know well enough that Yoongi could never close the door without trying to release his pent up anger. He looked sleek, admittedly, he looked very charming wearing his black turtleneck, and his black coat. But you knew that you needed to stay away, as he removed his shoes, you shut down the television, walking fast while chewing on a piece of kimchi. There was a pause, it was the moment you made eye contact with him.

But you ignored it, walking away with your bowl towards your room. Normally, he’d find you in your room, however, he arrived earlier than usual. Fridays would usually mean that he’d be coming home late, trying to clear up his schedule for the weekends, but he was here in all his glory. “Have you been keeping up with the news?” You were holding a chicken bone, gnawing on it as you were about to pull the door, entering your room, but you were a few seconds late. You shook your head slowly.

He took a few steps closer as he began to open his phone.

“Min Yoongi caught desperately trying to save marriage!”

That was one of the very few articles that had appeared in his phone. Alongside, “Divorce Makes Way For The Newly Wedded Min Couple!” You gave him a shrug, unsure as to what he was waiting for, what reaction he wanted upon showing you mediocre headlines. “Well, I’m glad they’ve reported reliable news.” You could practically see smoke fume out of his nostrils in annoyance. “The fuck do you want me to do? Make a call and tell them no, when we were clearly in the middle of an argument earlier?”

He gritted his teeth, his tongue poking out his cheek as he placed both one of his hands in his hips, the other reaching his forehead as if he was trying to ease a random headache he managed to acquire within the three minutes of talk time you allowed each other to have. “This is the first time they’re seeing us, I’m quite pleased with the reaction.” The sarcasm was dripping off of every word, again, you shrugged. Gently placing the bowl down as you stared at him trying to figure out what he wanted from you.

“You’re a CEO, Min Yoongi. You’re not a performer like your brothers are, this doesn’t mean shit to the millions you earn weekly. None of this matters.” You knew that the reason for this was his brothers’ fame, they were out in the spotlight while he was in the dark. This urged the media to move towards Yoongi’s direction more, as he seemed someone who was more intriguing. Someone who’s name stood out in the crowd, despite not being a public character.

“Do you not care about the reputation you have as an individual?”

“Well in the first place, none of this would have happened if you sat down in your goddamn office chair, like you’re supposed to be doing. Not waiting for me in the airport,”

“Glad you appreciate the effort though, was I supposed to not greet you? After disappearing for two fucking weeks?” He let out a laugh, huffing as he placed down his coat somewhere in the sofa. “You yelled in front of everyone, I asked you to wait, to at least let everything boil down to the moment we were inside the vehicle!” It was a matter of proving who’s fault it really was at this point, it was the same immature fight you’d always have but never seemed to resolve.

“Why do you care so much about everyone else? Why do you care about their opinion, when they barely know you.” That was your conclusion, you halted, and moved towards your room. The bowl was left halfway full in the counter, long forgotten as you’ve lost whatever was left of your will to eat the moment Yoongi presented the news articles he found to be fascinating.

In an attempt to move on from the situation, you distanced yourself from him. The already existing wall between the two of you had only grown taller. You did your best to avoid him, even going as far as checking the CCTVs from your office just to see if he was home, letting him do his nightly routine before proceeding to going home yourself. You wanted no physical interaction, in fact, even the invitation that had been sent for the two of you had been forwarded by him through email.

Even your cellphone numbers had been rendered useless, as you barely talked through messages, not once had he called.

You didn’t know how the night would pan out, you just had to get through this, wear a dress that fit the theme, and pretend that the two of you had been happily married for the past six months. Easy, you thought it’d be easy. However, the void that stood in between the two of you had been way too big to even mend. So, you sat there, tapping your fingers against the soft satin fabric of your dress. Awkwardly licking your lips as you failed to make an eye contact with the man beside you.

You clutched your tiny purse as you had been escorted out of the car by Min Yoongi himself, doing your best to try and act natural. Hooking your hand against his arm, as he cleared his throat in surprise, raising a brow towards your direction as you began to walk the red carpet. Similar to the airport scene, the media was everywhere. In addition to the crowd you’ve managed to form, a bunch of business elites were also waiting for the arrival of the lucky couple, having big names in the business field, wanting to please the two of you for possible collaborations and merges. The two of you were the star of the show.

You began critiquing the way the two of you walked, how his steps were far larger than yours and how you always fell behind. The way your arm awkwardly hung from his, how you attempted to push back stray pieces of hair with your other hand.

Parties had always been your cup of tea, you enjoyed them, you saw them as business opportunities. But for the first time in your life, you lacked the confidence to power through the event, your feet were already worn out from the heels you chose to wear, everything was not going as planned and you were terrified that it showed through. What a hypocrite you were, scolding Yoongi for caring too much despite being anxious yourself.

There was a buffet, wine, champagne, and all of Yoongi’s brothers had also been present. They greeted the two of you, which you happily returned, never missing the sly smirk they gave off especially the way Taehyung laughed at your awkward posture, pointing out that he read the previous articles that mentioned the two of you. The part you dreaded was yet to come, it was at that moment that the old Mr. and Mrs. Choi walked in front of your and began asking you questions.

“You look wonderful tonight!” Mrs. Choi gushed at the two of you, her hands clinging onto yours and Yoongi’s as she began to shake the two of them. You smiled politely, exchanging quiet glances with Yoongi, you were screwed. The old couple loved gossiping, they were familiar with all distributors and were often referred to as the “trusted affiliate” that could juice out everything out of a growing issue in South Korea.

“So do you, I really love your earrings!” You returned the excitement, pointing out wherever your eyes had landed first, so it happened to be her earrings. “Thank you! I got them from Chanel, a little outdated but they do the job.” A few awkward sentences later, they began to ask you about what they were really here for. “I’m so glad the two of you were able to attend, I’ve been anxious since the moment we read the issues, we thought you’d be separating, again.” It was the emphasis on the word again that had Yoongi clenching the glass a little harder, enough for the tips of his finger to turn white. However, his composure remained calm, you gently tapped your heel against his leather shoes.

“Arguments do happen, I’m sure you and mr. Choi have also been victims of small fights every now and then, in the end, don’t we all find ways to resolve these?” He ended by bringing the wine closer to his lips, the dark hue beginning to stain his pink plump lips. The couple laughed.

Navigating a conversation with the Choi’s had always been dangerous, at any moment either one of you could stumble upon a trip mine. On top of this, the lack of communication with Yoongi could lead to possible contradiction of your answers, you didn’t discuss anything nor did you prepare for any interviews.

Their many attempts to find new headlines had almost been unsuccessful, almost. “When are you planning to have kids?” Mr. Choi asked, drinking the sparkling drink in his hand as Mrs. Choi complimented him through her fond eyes.

“Right, it has been six months since the two of you had been married. When are we seeing little Yoongi’s, little y/n’s?” The four of us shared a hearty laugh, “well, my wife and I want more time for each other. Not to say we don’t have any plans in the future, but we don’t intend to have kids as of this moment.” It was a good enough answer, barely any information but it was enough to get a good click worthy title. “Oh, interesting. As much as we’d love to stay, we do have to meet a few more people.”

“We’d leave the two of you be, I’m certain you’d want to talk to hipper and younger guests.”

The two of you gave a polite smile, sighing loudly as they finally left your table. You downed the glass of wine faster than you had done before, the heat in your throat finally easing the tension you’d been feeling. You shared an awkward glance, lightly chuckling after deeming the interaction as somewhat successful.

“You did great,” you praised Yoongi, he started scratching the back of his head as his cheeks glowed in a pink hue, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds. “Who would’ve thought that that would work out?” Biting your lip as you shyly smile at him. It was you getting flustered all over again, similar to how your dimples would show, how you’d look at your feet in order to avoid his stares, those five beautiful years had always been dear to your heart. However, the breakup was almost inevitable.

The two of you were growing at your own pace, while you were busy preparing to be the next CEO, Yoongi had already been managing the company. Although you tried to make ends meet, it still happened. It started with small immature fights, soon it evolved to the days you would fail to meet, bigger arguments emerged, and although you tried your best to settle everything, you were not in the right state of mind. The never ending pressure that erupted from your family, the business meetings, the small problems you encountered in your day-to-day life. Everything collided.

You wanted to find comfort in Yoongi, you wanted him to be the safe space you needed whenever you wanted, but you became selfish. You would tell him everything, disregarding the fact that he too had problems, that he was also suffering considering that a job meant to be split into seven members, were all being handled by one. He tried his best, but on some days it got too much for him to handle, and one day, he finally exploded. He ended the relationship the two of you had, a five year relationship ended in the course of three months.

And now here you were, using your newfound attitude as a way to cope with the heartache that you still feel deep within your heart. Acting like a spoiled kid who was denied for the first time.

What you didn’t know was how much Yoongi had been suffering too. How much he wanted to come to you, and how much he needed to be with you. To him, the arrangement was a blessing in disguise. It felt like a huge blow in the gut when you had suggested a divorce after the noise you’ve made died down, from then he began to feel dejected. Slowly overworking himself, trying his best to distract himself from the fact that you would never be his. The distraction he made soon lead to distance, distance between the two of you.

He tried to act tough around you, spiteful even. But when he remembers how you implicitly rejected his proposal to a life with him, he’d attempt to push through. Putting on this mask as if he was tough, that he was different from the Yoongi you once knew, that he’d no longer be there for you. He halted all of his actions, actions he thought would bring the two of you together. Forming a stronger bond compared to the five years you’ve spent together.

With you acting poorly in front of him, using aggressive retaliation, and him being terrified of the rejection you unknowingly did, your relationship was in a standstill. You were two people who wanted each other, and sadly, there might be no way of knowing that you two did feel the same way.

Despite the flashing lights, the smiles you tried to offer other business associates, you still ended up back into your dark and gloomy house. It was large, had many empty walls and was barely decorated. There was no way of telling if the house was occupied or not, it was far too... professional? It had no character, no visible sign of change, it was bare.

The dark room you managed to inhabit for the past six months reminded you of how lonely you’ve been feeling, how different you were from the persona you tried to play outside of the walls. You’ve grown so accustomed to loneliness that it became such a huge part of your life, you could barely even remember how you acted before you were married to Yoongi, how carefree you were. It was pitiful how a rich, privileged woman like you was stuck inside a place you didn’t feel comfortable in.

It wasn’t the idea of being alone that made you feel lonely, it was living with someone with no physical reaction despite being entitled to at least a little bit of skin-on-skin contact, a hug would’ve been a big help. With these thoughts, you pulled your hand away from Min Yoongi’s as you began to wave the pathway towards the front door. Crossing your arms as you moved in, avoiding him as you made it as quickly as possible towards your bedroom.

Yoongi stood behind the door, for a night that had gone so well, your reaction had been far too harsh. Leaving him as soon as you had the opportunity, as if he were something so toxic to you that you couldn’t even stand being with him, alone, for at least a minute. He felt his chest swell, it wasn’t the good type of swell, it was fucking painful.

Removing his leather shoes, and walking towards the master bedroom, he asked himself what ifs, what if the two of you managed to handle everything more maturely, to the point of having a proper relationship up until now? What if the two of you had really wanted it? Would things be better?

Good grief, of course, things would have been so much better. He cursed himself silently, muttering under his breath as he took the moment to blame himself for just ending the relationship the moment he had the chance too. He didn’t even give himself enough time to process the decision he’d been making. On that same day, he was collected by Kim Namjoon, his brother, in a local bar. He was passed out, his Armani suit reeked of alcohol as he tried his best to push Namjoon away. Telling him desperately that he was fine and that he could drive himself home.

If only fate had been a little forgiving, if only. Coincidentally, on that same night, two establishments away, you’d been busy getting drunk. Two drunk adults had been found passed out, the two of them reeking of alcohol, upset about the same relationship that could’ve been something if it weren’t for their carelessness.

The bitterness of yesterday had easily died down the moment that your nostrils engaged with the familiar scent of coffee, it was an early Saturday morning. The curtains had been automatically opened using an A.I, giving you a marvellous view of the infinity pool outside your room. Stretching your limbs as you carefully stepped outside after putting on your Hello Kitty slippers, you were greeted by your husband doing what he was best at, making coffee.

The situation would’ve been more lax if the two of you were on speaking terms but, you weren’t. He offered you a fresh cup of coffee, something you were quick yo take, a soft “thank you,” escaped your lips before letting the warm liquid pass through. Whilst you stood there in your Sanrio pyjama, the other man stood fully clothed with his suit. He was all geared up for work, something you never quite understood. From what you know about him, he’d always been quite the workaholic, he didn’t have time to pause.

“I’ll be off,” he pursed his lips, forming a thin line of something that resembled a smile. You nodded as you took another sip of the warm coffee. Just like that, he left holding a tumbler with coffee, and his car keys. “Well, at least he bothered this time...” you murmured, walking towards the refrigerator to gather ingredients for your pancakes.

You were busy dancing as you flipped distorted, the television was playing, it served as your background music as you enjoyed the short freedom you had. You made another cup of coffee, bringing the mug and grabbing maple syrup from the cabinet, drizzling it on top of the semi-perfect pancakes. Comfy in your pyjamas, you sat down in the couch and began to dig into the pancakes. You were in the mood, for just basically anything. You were at peace, that was what you felt. Two seconds away from pressing the button to finally turn it off, a scene quickly caught your attention.

The man who made you coffee was the same guy in the TV, Min Yoongi was guesting with his little brother on a survival program, it was about a new girl group awaiting for their debut. Today was the day they get to decide which of the members would be debuting as an official member, as a collaboration between two of the largest entertainment companies Yoongi was called out in order to monitor the members. Hoseok had been a judge since the beginning, here he was sitting next to Yoongi as they made small talk. You paused, holding the empty plate as you grew more intrigued.

Everything was going well, up until they met face-to-face with the trainees. All of the judges reunited with one another, one particular judge, Suran had been quite affectionate with Yoongi. It started with a handshake, that was no big deal, it was a formal exchange between two important judges on the show. It was something normal, very normal.

The show escalated smoothly, rushing towards the kitchen counter as you quickly washed the plate despite the maids offering you their own hands. You jumped towards the couch, and sat down, your heart was racing from the adrenaline rush. But it was all worth it as the show continued. There was nothing that interested you, aside from Min Yoongi, so of course you paid attention to him the most. It caught you by surprise when the camera panned towards their direction, there was a soft voice as Suran held Yoongi’s hand, complimenting his bracelet, making small connections with his hands. “It’s really pretty,” Suran murmured, the host went silent upon noticing the interaction between the two of them.

Yoongi was quick to bow, thanking her as soon as possible. “Your cheeks have gotten really pink!” Hoseok exclaimed, his laughter echoing through the stage. Clapping his hands every once in a while as he continued to make fun of his older brother.

Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal to you. You weren’t exactly the jealous type. However, with the way you and Yoongi were right now, and how quick he was to react to Suran’s simple compliment, the way they exchanged smiles, how they held eye contact for even a split second. Everything was making your blood boil.

You swallowed hard, it didn’t help that throughout the rest of the show the judges and the trainees kept teasing the two of them. How much did you have to pay for in order to get the same treatment as Suran did? Why did he act that way? Most importantly, how come Yoongi never lets you see this side of him, why does he always have to be mad or annoyed whenever he talked to you? How special was Suran to him that the moment the two of them stood close to one another, they had no trouble navigating through their conversation.

Oh you definitely weren’t jealous, yes you were simply making comparisons and that was natural, right? No, you hated yourself for feeling this way. How come he acted like that around her? Why can’t he act like that around you? You were annoyed at how he moved on, how happy he was. On the other hand, here you were, watching he two of them converse, still moving on from the breakup that had happened more than a year ago. You pitied yourself, you really did. “Fucking hell,” you muttered upon noticing the pooling tears from the corners of your eyes. It was at this exact moment that someone had kneeled before you.

When had he arrived? And why were you only finding out about this. Yoongi was looking at you with a worried look in his face as you desperately tried to hide your face from him, closing your eyes as soon as possible and grabbing the neck hole of your shirt as you lifted it up to cover your eyes. He grabbed the remote control and finally shut down the TV, “shh,” he quietly engulfed you with his body, the scent of his cologne slowly emanating from him. He guided you, lifting you up and walking towards your bedroom, covering your face from the rest of the maids that began to throw looks towards your direction.

It was the humiliation that struck you the most, the fact that he caught you watching his guesting on a show, and somehow found a reason to start getting jealous and ending up in such a pitiful condition which involved crying for affection was beyond you, you didn’t know what had happened. Why did you let yourself do this? You silently cursed yourself. “Baby, what happened?” He had a way with his words, somehow he managed to blend in a nickname, somehow that was enough to remind you what you had lost.

You shook your head repeatedly, trying your best to deny any feelings you showed. Pulling your shirt down, you were forced to meet his eyes, his thumbs found your tear stained cheeks, wiping them off gently as he locked eyes with you. “Why, what’s wrong?” He asked you again, you built up the courage, it was either now or never. “I don’t like seeing you with Suran, no, I don’t like seeing you acting like that around anyone else.” Your hiccups got in the way, but you managed to tell him exactly what you had wanted.

“Y/n...” he paused for a moment.

“How come you act like that around them, while you treat me like this? Why do they get better treatment? I’m your wife Yoongi, how come I get the leftovers while they get full course meals?” You heard how ridiculous you sounded, cringing at your choice of words and the way they flowed out of your lips. But you were humiliated enough, if it were a different situation then maybe you’d be laughing at yourself. “I want you all to me, Yoongi. And I know that it’s not possible, but I want us. I want what we both lost,” his fingers carded through your hair, the other massaged your back in a soothing manner, there was dead silence for a moment.

You knew you lost him.

His arms snaked around you, pulling you in closer to him as he gently placed a kiss on your forehead. He lifted your face up using his thumb, finally he kissed you on your lips. “But you already have me, y/n.” You knew it wasn’t real, there was no way this was happening right now. “You have me,” he muttered against your ear before gently sealing the space left in between your lips.

The tears you poured were all worth it, you knew from that point on that the relationship you once broke had been finally mended. You felt weight being lifted away from your chest.

You were sighing against his lips, fixing your posture as you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands slowly moving south. Grasping your arse as you shifted your position, sitting on top of his legs. You didn’t know what had taken over you at that point. You were desperate for more. The whine that left your lips wasn’t something you had voluntarily done, the moment he pulled away from you, his lips were a lot more plump. His chest was heaving, he threaded his palms in his hair as he eyed you. The two of you did your best to catch your breath.

It wasn’t the first time you stopped in the middle of doing something so sensual, you’ve always wanted your first with someone who you were willing to fully commit to.

Within the five years that you’ve spent together, Yoongi had always respected your boundaries. He stopped the moment you told him. He was a man of self control, but you knew that at some point he’d eventually reach his peak. Right now, there was nothing else you’d wish for aside from this finally happening. “Do I have you?” His forehead touched yours, his warm breath fanned over your saturated lips, closing your eyes you once again touched his lips.

He groaned against your lips.

Something unusual erupted from inside you, it was something you’ve felt before. Only now, you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Your lips parted, neck bending sideways as your breathing stuttered. His lips began working wonders, never leaving a spot on your neck untouched.

The flame that erupted from inside you began to engulf you, the moment you felt his lips against the side of your jaw, you knew you were done for. You began to slowly move your hips, moaning as you felt him nip slowly against your skin. His hands wandered through every crevice, eventually finding untouched area just below your cute little top.

You moved faster, trying to chase something you weren’t quite sure for, but for a moment you thanked the heavens above for Yoongi’s rough pants. You were a stuttering mess, grinding harder, pushing yourself even deeper against his thighs as you tried to reach something, just anything. You knew you were close, so close.

His hands worked wonders under your shirt, already unclasping your garment. Yoongi gave you all of his attention, which is why your heavy breathing didn’t go unnoticed. You were inches away from reaching that something, however, he pulled you away from your rhythm with one quick nip against your jaw, his hands clasping against the flesh of your arse, coming to a disagreement as he pulled onto them, giving you a quick slap.

“Yoongi,” you didn’t know if you were pleading him, maybe it came to you out of instinct, annoyance, you weren’t sure. But you were in too deep, you could honestly cry if he didn’t give you what you needed at that moment.

A low chuckle erupted from him, his chest moving against yours, reminding you of how close the two of you were. “Patience baby, this is your first time...” he gave you a quick peck. Holding the hem of your shirt as he gently lifted it off of you, catching his breath at the sight of your bare breasts. Hands finding their natural position as he flipped the two of you, you head cushioned against the pillows as you stared at his eyes, completely captivated by how desperate he looked, how desperate he wanted to lay his hands against your perky buds.

Starting from your lips, he made his way slowly downwards, making sure to nip the exact spot he knew to be sensitive, at this moment you hadn’t bothered to check if he was leaving marks, but with the time he took to make his way where you had wanted him, you would honestly be pissed off if you didn’t have any. He suckled on one of your breasts, making you arch your back off of the soft mattress. Gasping loudly at the newfound sensation, a drug you were exposed too for the first time, you felt his smirk. Long slender fingers began to touch the other, only adding more to the pleasure, making sure that neither of your mounds felt left out.

He pulled out of the other with a pop, mouth lingering downwards, kissing around your belly button before making its’ way towards the other one. The light illuminated the signs he left on your other boob, out of curiosity you touched your gleaming bud while he put all of his attention on the other. It was far more sensitive, your breathing had turned harsh, your throat felt constricted as you failed to let out moans, Yoongi’s ears were filled with nothing but short gasps. Your hips used your legs as support trying to get any form of contact, however, Yoongi’s legs never faltered. You only grew more desperate with every minute his lips dwelled on your breast.

Your underwear would surely be clinging onto your lips by now, you were irritated by the fabric, you wanted more, you needed it off of you.

“Yoon, please,” tears were pooling by the corner of your eyes, despite begging Yoongi whilst grinding your hips against his body, your hands grounded him against your breast. You were dazed, as if you were drowning and yet you didn’t want to be pulled out of the water, it was painful, and yet you indulged in it. It was a newfound addiction you knew you didn’t want to let go off, it was driving you crazy, towards the edge of all the boundaries you wanted to break.

He hummed, sending vibrations through your chest, you moaned loudly. You chased your breath, trying your best to calm down as he lapped your breast. You groaned even harder, protesting and demanding for something else. He grounded your hips with one of his hands, forcing you to lay still as he let go of your breast.

“God, y/n,” he left his words hanging, you lay still catching your breath as you tried to process what was happening. Sweat trickled from his neck, temporarily staining his black top. His hair was a mess, something you were responsible for, desperately clinging onto it as he showed you undiscovered territory with the small flicks of his tongue. Gently kissing your lips, you let out a sigh of relief upon feeling his calloused fingers against the material of your bottoms.

Raising your hips as you he managed to pull your underwear and your pyjamas at the same time. He pulled away from the kiss, appreciating your naked figure, his mouth was slightly open as he drunk in every detail of your body. You had nothing left to hide, lifting your chest slightly off the bed, flaunting your curves.

The moment he was able to process everything that was laid before him, he knew he was screwed. Memorising every detail, even the small mole in your thigh, everything was imprinted in his head. He knew that he’d be having a hard time from this day forward.

“A fucking goddess,” he murmured under his breath, making eye contact with you as he gently dived down, spreading your legs farther away from each other. Slowly, you revealed your entire body to him. He felt like wanton, appreciating the way your tight nether lips gently opened for him, slick evident in your thighs caused by the never ending squeeze of your legs a few minutes ago when he’d been too busy appreciating your breasts.

You looked away from him, it dawned you how exposed you had been. The way he was fully clothed, with nothing but unruly hair as evidence of the sensual act you’d been committing, you felt humiliated. Despite the fact that he was on his knees, attempting to make an eye contact right below you, you knew he was in control. He gave quick pecks just below the area you had wanted him most, “look at me,” warm air hitting your womanhood. You were innocent in this sense, everything he’d been making you feel was a first to you.

“Y/N,” he licked the inside of your thighs, and when you refused to look at him for the second time, he pulled you downwards. Like a rag doll made for him. His tongue darted straight to your clit, you’re knees felt like jelly. Closing your thighs as a response to the sudden movement, his arms we’re quick enough to wrap around your thighs, forcing them open as he let his tongue lick through the mess you’ve managed to create.

He suckled on your clit, as if licking it gently weren’t enough. Leaving open mouthed kisses, as he pushed onto the sensitive bundle of nerves using his wet appendage. You desperately hold on to the sheets, crinkling them, using your arms as support as you tried your best to hold on for your dear life. You could feel every movement he made, the way his tongue desperately tries to enter your tight hole, the way his lips would wrap around your clit, the way he would smirk after hearing you moan his name repeatedly.

“Shit, Yoongi!” You’re voice called out to him, a tad bit louder than your moans. You gasped for air, hands wrapping around his hair, legs quivering upon the new sensation that set fire to your entire body. He continued to lap your cunt, your lips growing even tighter around his tongue. The sounds he’d been able to produce was enough to drive you to the edge. Hearing how loud he was able to make your cunt sound was beyond you.

A few short breaths, the quick tug in your stomach, and the elated beating of your heart. It came crashing down on you.

You did your best, trying to close your thighs as it began to feel too much, beads of sweat trickled down your forehead as you clung onto his dark hair. With one last gasp, and the closure of his lips, you came with a yell of his name. Your release was greeted by his lips, drinking you in like his favourite wine, overwhelmed by the stimulation you felt you begged him to stop. You rode your high against his muscle, finally, he pulled away.

His chin was gleaming, signs of your release scattered around his lips. Using his thumb, he picked it up. “Open,” he raised one of his brows towards your direction, you looked at him in confusion only to follow his orders. You were greeted by his thumb, you sucked on it, not hesitating despite tasting your own cum. He pulled it out only to replace it with his mouth, sharing the familiar taste, on a regular day it would’ve been odd, but to hell with it.

Whining against him, you tugged his sweater, demanding it be discarded somewhere in the expanse of your room. Chuckling once more he finally pulled away, with a quick flick of his wrist, he threw his top somewhere. You were greeted with a body you weren’t used too. He’s been working out, oh, he’s definitely been working out.

The way his chest moved as he heaved on top of you, the way his arms would flex and the veins that crawled from his hand to his shoulder, as if he was carved by the greatest sculptors. You swallowed harshly. God, he was fucking gorgeous.

You were brought back to reality when his finger poked your entrance, biting your lip as you watched in fascination, the way you wrapped around him, the way it quivered after its’ peace had been disrupted for the first time. Pumping his hand slowly as his eyes never left yours, watching the way your face would contort with every movement, closing your eyes as tightly as you could, soaring higher than the clouds that you had to remind yourself to breath every once in a while.

He felt you flesh, making slow movements as he tried different angles, deciding which one made you moan the loudest. Finally, he found your spot. His movements getting a lot harsher by the second, “god damn it, Yoongi.” You cursed him under your breath, gasping as he went faster and faster. “You think you can take more, baby?” his voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the way his hand moved harshly against your weeping cunt.

“More, please, more,” you chanted your mantra. Your wetness spreading to the rest of his fingers, a second one slipping into the mix. His movements were fast, but not fast enough. You tried to meet his thrusts, his eyebrow cocking upwards at the way you moved below him, observing how desperately you wanted to reach your climax for the second time tonight. “Who would’ve thought you’d be this desperate for my fingers, hm?” His voice getting lower and lower throughout the duration of the sentence.

You were in your own little bubble, his hand quickly surging forward, scissoring his fingers apart in an attempt to get you more loose, to get you to open up for him. Two fingers weren’t enough. Gasping as you felt his fingers do their best to stretch inside your needy little hole, his other hand reaching forward as he tried to distract you from the sudden movements he made inside.

Your clit was getting stimulated, while his other hand pumped even faster. You’re mind went blank, unsure as to what Min Yoongi had been saying for the past few minutes. You assumed you would reach your limit at any second, however, you felt a jolt of pain when he inserted his third finger. Cursing loudly as you held his hand, your breathing growing more shallow. He pumped his hand a little harsher, giving an emphasis to the three fingers he had inside of you.

He pulled the other away from your clit and stilled his movements, you tried to move away from his hand, doing your best to form coherent thoughts as you were torn between pushing even deeper or pulling away. You gasped for air, feeling him kiss your cheek as his deep voice murmured against your ear, “you’re going to need more than two if you want us to go all the way in, baby.”

Jesus Christ, how big was his cock?

These were your exact thoughts, “a minute, Yoongi.” You did your best to relax, forcing your hold to relax as he held his hand steady your cunt desperately in need of action. His other hand went back to massaging your clit, while the remaining began pumping in a slower manner. Despite getting used to the feeling of having three fingers inside of you, it was still too much for your tight unused cunt. However, it made you feel something, soon, the pain was ebbing away. “Faster,” you wish you hadn’t told him that, as his palm began hitting your clit in an abusive manner, driving you over the edge.

The strange feeling began to build up inside of you, his pace grew faster, faster, and faster. Before you knew it, you came undone. You pushed his fingers away, your legs shaking as you desperately closed them. Despite not having anything inside of you, the pleasure was still very evident. You opened your eyes to a wet Min Yoongi, realisation dawned you. “Fucking hell,” he smirked, shushing you gently as he pried your legs open, observing the quivering hole that once sheltered three of his fingers.

You had squirted.

It explained so much, the way the sheets were damp, the way his chest had been shining, your cheeks were flushed.

Your eyes found his bulge, restrained by his belt and the rough material of his pants. You didn’t know what had taken over you, but you wanted his cock. You wondered what else he could make you feel. “Want your cock, Yoongi, please. Need it so bad,”

“Do you think you could handle more?”

You nodded eagerly, despite the dwindling tiredness in your eyes, you knew you still wanted one thing just before you pass out. You wanted to explore how much you could take, what else you could possibly feel, you wanted everything. Desperation. You were desperate for everything that Min Yoongi could give you. “Please,” that was all it took to push Yoongi over the edge. His pants and his boxers had been discarded in a flash, you gazed at him, specifically at the massive thing between his thighs.

You gasped.

Maybe you were taking more than you could afford to take, upon seeing the worried look in your face, Yoongi was quick to comfort you. Telling you that there was no rush in taking things this far, but with a quick roll of your wet cunt against his hard cock, he ceased his words. Letting a growl erupt from his chest as he moved his cock against your pussy. “You’re a beast, y/n.” Positioning his manhood against your wet hole, slowly entering you. Just his tip felt massive enough, the tears that threatened to spill earlier, were full on leaking out of your eyes as you shut them.

Gasping loudly, making an inaudible noise as you felt his tip enter you tiny little opening. “Taking me in so well,”

“Pussy still tight after taking all three of my fingers, you’re a fucking whore.” He stilled his movements, pausing every once in a while as he was slowly hugged by your body. “Ha-ah,” you moaned as he pushed it in even further. “How are you this fucking big,” your manicured nails marred the flesh of his back, marking it with small little crescents. He ignored your remarks, instead he focused on how he’d possibly fit everything in you. You thought you’d be ripped in half when he first entered his third finger, however, at this point you were certain you’re literally split into two. His monstrous cock doing its’ best to intrude your virgin walls.

Inch after inch you felt your sanity being washed away from your body, for a split second you knew your soul lifted away. Your eyes rolling back as he continued to penetrate you with his massive manhood, tiny scars forming in his back from how hard you gripped him. His thumbs sinking on your hips in an attempt to keep you grounded as he pushed himself in. The only warning you got was a quick peck on your forehead before he pushed to the hilt. You yelled, back arching off of the comfortable mattress, your tears staining your cheeks. With the way his breathing became shaky, how his words would falter and the short pauses he took in order to process the idea of having him spear through you in its’ entirety, he was over the fucking moon.

Moving away from him in an attempt to ride him, he couldn’t help but laugh at the desperate actions you took just to get fucked. Pulling out until its’ just his tip before harshly slamming back down, knocking the air out of your lungs as you tried to form coherent sentences, before giving up halfway through and just yelling his name repeatedly. “Ruining your tight fucking cunt for everyone else,” his breathing was harsh, he came in raging inside of you. Harsh pain emerging from your pussy as you took your first and last cock, biting down on your lip as you tried to calm yourself down.

Pulling your perked up nipples before releasing them with a pop, adding more pleasure to the large intrusion in your walls. You couldn’t hear anything, the only thing you could process was the filthy sound your cunt made against his balls. The discernible wet noises, the way the bed creaked against the wall, the way he heaved on top of you, for a split second the two of you owned the world. His lips met yours, his gentle kiss was far different from his rigorous thrusts.

Just when you thought he couldn’t go any faster, he’d prove you wrong with the next. Marking your neck with more purple hues, making you completely his, giving an emphasis on every suck with a harsh thrust, ending it with a gentle kiss on your exposed flesh. You knew you were going to be sore the next day.

Assisting your legs, wrapping them around his waist, he felt your cunt clench around him. “You’re close aren’t you, your cunt clenching around me, refusing to let go of my cock.”

“You’re mine, y/n. No one can ever fuck you the same way as I do,” he growled against your ear as his pace started getting harsher. You couldn’t keep up with him, the next thing you knew you were a shaking mess before him. Coming undone and clenching him, making your pussy a lot more tighter. You tried to push him away, you had already come undone three times in one night, you didn’t know if you had the capacity to cum once more.

However, all you got out of him was an apology, pounding even harder with the added pressure of his thumb circling around your clit repeatedly. “Carving my dick inside of you, because you’re all mine,” You whined in protest, more tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. The pain of overstimulation taking over your entire body, you were all worn out.

Despite all the earlier attempts to push him off, at this point you had no energy left. So you took it all, growing far more needy for another gush of liquid in your cunt, yelling out gibberish as his pace slowly began to falter. Biting your lip, closing your eyes, you felt another tug in your stomach. As if your first orgasm had never ended, you were cumming, for the last time, hopefully.

“All. Fucking. Mine.” With each word he thrusted harder, you felt warm liquid painting your walls white as you choked out a sob. Clinging onto him as he gently pulled out. Meeting your eyes and gently wiping away your tears, jokingly slapping his arm afterwards. “The audacity you have, after doing it so roughly.” His gums appeared in front of you, the same gummy smile that made your heart bloom finally appearing once again.

He kissed your forehead before tucking you in bed, the sticky feeling from the sheets only making you wince. He stretched out his back before walking towards your bathroom, soon enough you heard the shower. Despite the icky and sick feeling of the sheets, you managed to take a 30-minute nap, only to be woken up by Yoongi gently blowing on your face. “Let’s go upstairs...” he whispered softly, pulling you up, as he wrapped your robe around you.

Carrying you as if you weighed nothing, as he walked around the house with nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. For the first time in months, you finally got to see how his bedroom looked like. You groaned in pain after he put you down against the grain of his marble counter. Grabbing a wash cloth and rubbing the damp towel all over your body, using warm water, finally cleaning up the mess he’s managed to make. Dressing you up in a pair of your own pyjamas he must’ve gotten earlier.

You clung onto him like a baby koala afterwards, forcing him to lay down with you in his bed. The scent of pine trees covered the silk sheets, accompanied by his favourite cologne from Paco Rabanne.

Just as if a year of separation hadn’t happened, you found your way clinging to his body the same way you did when the two of you had been dating. The small peck on top of your head was nothing unusual, the instinct of having his arm gently wrap around you after such a tiring day from work. Slowly, everything pieced itself. You wondered just how you lived through a year without him, how much you wished you’d spent it together.

He inhaled your scent, closing his eyes as he felt the satisfaction rushing in his veins. “I love you, y/n... so much, so, so, much.” He whispered against your ear, lips finding your temple as he gave you another kiss. Telling you how much he appreciated you, terrified that somehow the two of you would find your way back to the same place you ended up in, all alone and in desperate need of comfort from each other. Yoongi took his time to tell you all the sweet nothings he wished he told you before you separated.

By the end of the day, the two of you were just thankful you’d finally found your way back home.

#bts #bts smut #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts imagine #bts imagines #min yoongi smut #suga smut #agust d #agust d smut #min yoongi imagine #suga imagine #bts x reader #bts x you #yoongi imagine #arranged marriage #arranged marriage au #bts au

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thewild--flower · 2 years ago

Text

[Translation] Code: Realize Bouquet of Rainbows Short Story - Herlock Sholmes

Source: Code: Realize Bouquet of Rainbows Stella Exclusive Booklet

Scan credit: Kou

Summary: Sholmes and Cardia meet by chance in downtown London.

'I Want to Try and Touch You' - Herlock Sholmes

The whinnying of horses pulling carriages.

Happy laughter from families travelling together throughout the town.

Plumes of steam rising into the sky, as planes languorously passed above them.

'Steel London looks like the picture of peace itself today…..though likely countless crimes are still being committed in places hidden from public view, the same as always.'

'..........'

'Even if it's only in appearance, peace is truly something to be valued…..don't you agree, Cardia?'

'.....I'm not really sure what to say to that.'

I glanced back at the lone girl walking behind me to see if she shared my opinion.

Her eyes that stared straight ahead at me were clearly full of suspicion.

'I wish you wouldn't glare at me like that. Right now I don't intend on being your enemy.'

'But that doesn't change the fact that you are our enemy, right?'

She was right there. It was only the truth that I had tried to arrest Lupin and his gang, simply put, such a misunderstanding couldn't be helped.

But if that were to change just for today…..

'I told you before that I keep my private and public life separate. Luckily for you, today I'm off duty.'

'Yes, you did say that…..'

Now that I thought about it, we always ended up meeting in the middle of incidents.

The first time had been on the train that Lupin and the others had attacked.

After that had been during their various clashes with Twilight and the Queen.

It was difficult to call such encounters peaceful ones.

That was likely why— even though we had met in the midst of a busy downtown overflowing with people, she was completely on her guard like this.

However, as a gentleman of England, to be the cause of such an expression on the face of a cute girl was difficult to bear.

'Ah, now to change the subject, Cardia. Are you by yourself right now?'

'.........'

She was probably thinking I would eat her or something if I found out that she was.

Without answering, she glanced from side to side, not looking me in the eye.

…..As per usual, she was not very good at covering up her true thoughts or emotions. It might be that her personality was just too pure for her to be able to do so.

'They say that the eyes are windows to the soul. And also that silence speaks volumes…..I would say that you were with someone, but then you got separated— is that about right?'

'.....Did you deduce that?'

'Haha. I don't think that something like this could be called a deduction.'

Smiling wryly, I cast my gaze over the crowd.

'I have heard that today in the park just ahead of us, the Royal Society is exhibiting the new automobiles they have developed. And as you can see, because of that the city is crowded with people.'

As naturally as possible, I closed the distance between us—

'Since you are a target, I can easily imagine you would not have gone outside on your own, so must have come with someone else. But, no matter how crowded it is, the possibility you would get separated while accompanied by someone of exceptional vigilance such as Lupin or the Count is low. That being the case…..'

I spoke in a voice so that only she could hear.

'You came here with that genius engineer to see the automobiles, ended up getting separated while he was completely engrossed in the machines and then got lost….. am I correct?'

'.....You are. Were you actually watching the whole time…..?'

'My, I am so glad I was right.'

…..Well then.

Though I had somewhat taken the long route, now to get to what I really wanted to say.

'The truth is, I'm also on my own and have too much time on my hands. How about this, until your friend comes for you, why not enjoy some tea at this cafe here with me?'

'.....Are you plotting something?'

'I swear to you, I am not plotting anything….. Ah, no actually….'

I took off my hat and swept a bow, smiling at her once more.

'I would like to spend a moment of time this leisurely afternoon with a beautiful lady.

—If that is the kind of plot you mean, then of course you would not be wrong?'

On that note, we entered the cafe together—.

Sitting down at an open table facing the main street, I ordered some tea.

For some reason, she only asked for some biscuits.

I told her she could have anything she wanted, and recommended some drinks, but she stubbornly refused.

…..I didn't think it was because she 'hated' them.

Her eyes as she looked at the menu clearly gleamed with interest.

But at the same time a look of resignation settled over her face, though she tried to hide it…..

I began to be curious as to where that resignation came from.

'.....Oh dear, this isn't good. I shouldn't be doing this right now.'

'Shouldn't be, what?'

'Thinking about unnecessary things without meaning to.'

Even though I'd said myself I was off duty, I wonder why my thoughts wanted to pursue her.

The moment I tapped my temples as if scolding myself—.

'.....Oh?'

A single bit of paper gently blew towards us, carried by the wind.

It was a piece of pale pink confetti.

For a while it fluttered about in the air as the wind blew it around, unable to be caught, until at last it softly landed in Cardia's hair.

I broke into a grin at the mischief of the exceedingly carefree wind.

'Cardia, would you hold still a moment there for me?'

'Huh—?'

Having called out to her, I slowly stretched out my hand.

But, in the next instant—

' —! You can't—!'

She raised her voice sharply, knocking over her chair as she stood, putting distance between us.

Silence fell all around us as, wondering what was happening, countless gazes turned our way.

My eyes widened slightly at the all too clear 'rejection' in her reaction.

'..........'

I understood that she was wary of me as an enemy.

However, this reaction was clearly something more than that.

Her face had paled. The emotion reflected in her eyes was something like fear.

…..Without a doubt, it was the reaction of someone who had some kind of trauma regarding the act of being touched by another person.

'.....I apologise, was I being impolite?'

'No…..I'm sorry for shouting like that all of a sudden.'

As she spoke, she sat down again once more.

The fickle confetti had disappeared somewhere, and was no longer stuck to her hair.

'..........'

— A girl who obstinately avoided touching and being touched by others.

Composure, childishness, honesty and purity of heart.

And also…..resignation and rejection.

These impressions of her formed a profile that was quite unlike anyone I had ever known.

…..What was she hiding? What lay inside her heart?

—I wanted to know.

—I wanted to try and touch her heart.

Even though I had just said to myself that I was off-duty, the urge to know had opened a new train of thought in my mind.

'Car—'

'Ah.'

However, the words I was about to say were cut off.

She had stood up once more, and was looking straight ahead of her at the figure of a man with long red hair wildly waving his hand.

'.....Looks like your friend has come for you.'

'Yes, thank you, Sholmes….see you later then.'

Maybe because of the awkwardness of what had happened earlier, Cardia wasted no time in leaving her seat, quickly vanishing into the crowd.

What was left behind in this place was my interest in her and—

Just the piece of confetti on the seat she had been sitting on.

As I picked it up with my fingertips, I breathed a sigh.

'.....How strange. Even though I'm not on a case, I can't help but feel a stirring in my chest.'

Was the reason I wanted to know more about her because I was a detective….or something else?

'No— Today I am merely a citizen enjoying their free time.'

Figuring her out.

Until the chance to do so properly arose someday, I would wait—.

#code realize #code: realize bouquet of rainbows #herlock sholmes #code realize translation #cardia beckford #code: realize

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twistedtavern · 3 years ago

Note

I would love to know more about your version of Rielle!

FURIOUSLY CRACKING KNUCKLES

I want to call him a himbo, but himbos are respectful. Yet another boy in the "au characters that would commit a crime" pile. But god I love him anyways

So in the main Shining dorm leader post I did not go in depth about the backstories. I will amend that for Rielle now.

He, Azul, and the tweels all used to be friends when they were little and lived in the ocean. This friendship was largely one sided. Rielle was certainly not the most emotionally sensitive child in the Coral Sea, and it showed. Many joking remarks were made that Azul definitely took as being about his weight or appearance over the years, and he sometimes outright (albeit playfully and not maliciously) teased Azul about it. Apologies were rare, if they were ever given, and gradually he wore on the twins' nerves and Azul's self-confidence.

However, it was Rielle that introduced Azul to the concept of walking on land, and basically dumped on the poor octopus (and the twins) all the research needed to make it happen. This was the high point of their friendship, with less hurt and more mutual awe and fascination with the surface, studying the magic required to give all four of them their legs. Rielle even drew a picture of them all having fun on land that he keeps, even years later, to this day. But it all came grinding to a halt when Rielle's lack of thought came back to bite him one last time, and he told Azul that he should lose weight before going on land, probably alongside a joke about blobfish. The twins snapped at him, a fight between them broke out, Azul managed to stop them, but refused to talk to Rielle after. He was outcast from the quartet, now trio, and abandoned. Rielle managed to study enough of the magic to get his legs, piggybacking off of the pitiful scraps of what he had bothered to commit to memory, and went to RSA.

Once he meets Yuu, the two hit it off and he thinks of wanting to show Yuu something they've probably never experienced before, some sweet place called Mostro Lounge. Rielle had personally never been, and he was incredibly curious from what he had found out about it. He books a spot out in a private VIP selection, a pond Azul had (swindled) acquired the usage rights for and sent little boats out onto for guests, and once the two of them arrive, it is a strained reunion of old friends. The tweels even agree to put on a private show for them out on the water. If you've seen the movie, you can see where this is going. Rielle and Yuu get Kiss the Girl'd (Yuu almost dies), and Rielle is now stuck in his mer form, but at least we get the save lover from drowning/subsequent beach song scene.

Over a period of three days, Rielle is cared for off the coast of RSA's surrounding waters by Yuu, and is allowed some time for deep thought. They manage to procure the right potion for Rielle, and once he is human again, they manage to convince him to apologize to Azul through a letter in a bottle. The next day, they receive Azul's reply. He was shocked by Rielle's improvement, dismissively apologized on behalf of the tweels, but said that he cannot truly forgive Rielle, and asks him to accept that. And, at the request of his friend, Rielle comes to do just that. He keeps the drawing to remember his three ex-friends by, and does his best from then on to never let this happen again.

When he misses them, he holds Yuu close and looks out at the sea.

#shining wonderland #rielle shining wonderland #twst rielle

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rodeoxqueen · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do hc’s of like the dmc boys as Mafia bosses and what would it be like dating them??? Thank you! 🙏🏼

Howdy,

Only did Dante and Vergil’s. I don’t know too much about them mafia leaders, got enough work lassoing them wanted outlaws on my side of town.

If you want a good reference of mafia Dante and Vergil, I’d recommend you check out @cssmuse ‘s drawings of Dante and Vergil wearing suits.

-Rodeo

Dante

Before meeting Dante, you meet Tony Redgrave first. A charming man with a family business, a cozy Italian restaurant in the city.

However, it’s a cover for all the money-making crimes he commits heavy-handedly.

He’s a natural at reading people. He’s a walking lie detector. Good luck trying to f*ck him over a deal when making business with him in the underground.

Dante is like Reggie Kray, the twin mobster to Ronnie Kray who were notorious in England.

He decides to court you, flirting heavy-handedly and taking you on nice dates. He never lets you touch the check.

While next to you at a nice bar, he smiles off-sightedly at the in-disguise private investigator sitting a few tables away.

You get expensive flowers delivered to you every day, richly colored and freshly imported from Denmark.

Dante is a regular around bars and other dives, but he hasn’t brought another person with him ever. Not since you. You quickly become the talk of the underground, his love interest with starry eyes and clean hands.

Dante is a dangerous and careless man. He doesn’t leave evidence around because he’s an idiot, he does it because he knows no one can do anything to him anyway.

This man doesn’t need backup, but his enemies do. He likes to do the dirty work more than you think. With Ebony and Ivory, he walks into confrontation with his Beowulf brass knuckles on his hands.

He tries so hard to keep his real identity and reputation away from you until eventually, it catches up to him. He needs to tell you.

“Tony Redgrave died decades ago,” Dante says. The infamous Dante Sparda, the Twin Terror, stares at you with his true self revealed.

“But Dante Sparda has been using his name for the last forty-odd years.”

He only tells you once he knows you won’t leave in disgust, but he still has that crawling thought that you will. When you truly don’t, it’s a breath of relief.

He’s a stubborn man and he’s raised from violence. He’ll break a man’s face in and hold you tenderly with the same hands.

Dante always has an arm around you or a hand on the small of your back. He likes to show you off, dressed in his favorite red shades and shining rings.

He never wants you to get into his business, he would much rather have you “sit there and look nice” rather than participate in crime with him. It’s easier for him if you don’t get that involved.

Dante would get thrown into the slammer sometimes for a petty charge. He gets offered a phone call and he will never ever spend it well.

“You got one phone call, inmate,” Dante smirks at the guard, dialing a familiar number.

“Devil May Cry?”

“Is your refrigerator running?”

“Goddamit Dante, are you in jail again?”

“You know it, nephew.”

“(Y/N) is going to tear you a new one.”

“Oh, I know. Bail me out?”

“FINE.”

He loves you a lot, he never wants to see you behind bars because you loved him and got looped into his crimes. Even though you’re rather entwined in a relationship with him, there are times when he pulls away and you have to return him to you.

“I’m not a good man. You know that.”

“I’m not a good person for sticking around with you. But maybe that’s why we should be together. If we’re both going to Hell, I’m going down with you.” Dante’s hands wrap around your frame and he hugs your tightly.

All empires fall. When Dante takes that plight to damnation, he’s got your blessing- lipstick kisses all along his jugular.

Vergil

He’s the Ronnie Kray To Dante’s Reggie Kray; the colder twin with little trust for others.

Unlike Dante, Vergil treads quietly up the underworld’s ranks. He’s extremely difficult to approach and impossible to reason with. He will not let you get the better end of the deal without being at the sharper side of his sword.

Vergil wears the same styled suit all the time. It isn’t until he undresses when you discover he’s covered in tattoos.

He doesn’t want to see you killed or used against him as a pawn. He’s incredibly overprotective and even the slightest chance of someone endangering you ends with them being dead in the gutter.

Vergil is busy all the time but every night, he sheds his sins to be with you. He’ll be gone in the early morning, a feeling of cold lips grazing your cheek before he leaves.

Vergil works with Dante in their now-shared crime syndicate, although he is not one for fake identities. He’d much rather be known to the criminal underbelly only. Finding him and falling for him is a very very rare situation.

While people beg for their lives, he sits in his seat with his hand resting on his face, a silver band on his ring finger. Lately, anyone who dares to put their hands on you sees that new shining ring before they die, Vergil’s cold eyes watching their end.

Vergil goes shopping with you, once in a blue moon, to make you feel better. Someone made you upset and he beat them to an inch of their life before taking you to the finest establishments. He thinks you do not know what he has done, but the single fleck of red on his collar tells you enough.

He’s so stuck in his pursuit of power and sometimes it scares him that he’s attached to you. It distracts him and he hates distractions. He says this yet a single glance of you diverges his mind away from his throne, and he indulges upon it heavily.

Despite his avoidance of flashy appearances, he makes sure you are adorned with the finest clothes. He takes good care of you, and you take good care of him. He dislikes social outings but takes you with him when his brother forces him. You are his star jewel, the blue dragon clutching you gently between his claws. With this dangerous man, the crowd parts for you.

Dante and him butt heads often. Dante wants alliances but Vergil wants to monopolize. Debates end with bloody noses and disheveled suits as the twin terrors fight anytime and anywhere.

“Goodness, you should stop them.” A patron asks of you as Dante and Vergil throw gut punches and right hooks. You sip a drink.

“It’s just business.”

Dates are sparse but lavish. A simple dinner with the two of you, where you discuss everything but what Vergil does every day. With you, he’s just a dry-humored man who likes classical music and poetry.

Vergil isn’t like his brother, who deals with law enforcement all the time. Vergil has to deal with rival mafia leaders trying to one-up his empire.

“All things end. This won’t be forever, this life.”

“I’ll spend forever with you anyways.”

“You’d be a fool.”

“I’m your fool.”

“And I you.”

#rodeo has only mafia knowledge of the Kray Twins from Legend 2015 #dante x reader #gender neutral reader #dante imagine #dante sparda #dante headcanons #vergil x reader #vergil sparda #vergil imagine #vergil headcanons #devil may cry #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry headcanons #mafia au #devil may cry au

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ibijau · 3 years ago

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The Noble Art of Tree Climbing / On AO3

Since he lost his mother, Lan Xichen hasn't felt anything at all, and his cultivation is starting to suffer. His worried uncle decides to take him to the Unclean Realm for a change of air.

It was not a common gift to see the threads of fate between people, but Lan Xichen’s mother had called it a blessing from the heavens when she’d still been alive. She had said it was a sign fate trusted him to be wise enough to deal with that knowledge, and that he would have to be worthy of it. Lan Xichen had promised that he would try, though he wasn’t always sure what that was even supposed to mean.

At that time, all he had really known was that his mother’s thread went out of the Cloud Recesses, and his father bore no thread at all.

It was only after his mother’s death that it had hit him how odd it was for a marriage to have happened between them in spite of this, and even more so for his brother and him to have been born of such an improbable union. He had been told that dual cultivation was necessary for children to be born, and that it could only be practiced with one’s true love. His teachers couldn’t have lied, so clearly his parents had to have been in love, even without a red thread of fate, right?

It often threw Lan Xichen into a pensive state whenever he looked at the thread attached to one of his fingers, or his brother’s thread. Would that fate be enough to make them happy? It clearly hadn’t been enough for their mother, who’d had that melancholy air about her, especially in her last few months, as if even visits from her sons weren’t enough to lift her spirits anymore. But maybe it was just that she had never had the chance of meeting that person at the other end of that thread. Or else, since she didn’t have Lan Xichen’s gift, she hadn’t known that person’s true value, and had gotten roped into another match that did not suit her. Unless it was for that person’s sake that she had committed the crime that Lan Xichen wasn’t supposed to know about, the murder that had caused him and his brother to be born even when they shouldn’t have.

Lan Xichen thought about his mother a lot in the weeks after she passed away. He was not as demonstrative as Lan Wangji about missing her, but the pain was still there and he didn’t know how to deal with it at all. It paralysed him sometimes, and he would spend half a day staring at the red thread on his hand, wondering how different things could have been for his mother, if she had only known better, if she’d gone to that other person, if Wangji and him had never been born. Maybe she would have been happy. Maybe she wouldn’t have died.

Maybe it would have been better for everyone, if Lan Xichen had never existed at all.

Those thoughts became so bad that his grief started to impact his cultivation, which was when Lan Qiren decided to intervene, and to find some distractions for Lan Xichen. He took his nephew along to a few conferences, hoping it might cheer him up. Lan Xichen, dutifully, tried to be entertained by all those old people discussing arcane cultivation techniques or chatting about politics, but it was very boring and just gave him more time to think about his mother.

He could have tried to go play with the children of those other sects, but grown-ups always praised him when he tried to stay with them and to act serious, so he figured playing would have been a bad thing. He was going to be a sect leader someday, anyway, and he had to be serious. If he wasn’t serious enough, then he’d disappoint his sect, as his father had done. Lan Xichen didn’t want to be a disappointment. And anyway, even when he did try to play with others, he was often too sad, so they would leave him behind and continue their games without him. It was better to stay with the grown-ups.

It went on like this for half a year, Lan Xichen withdrawing further and further upon himself, Lan Wangji stubbornly waiting daily in front of their mother’s prison to see her. Lan Qiren appeared to be at his wit’s end, which only made Lan Xichen feel worse. After having lost his mother, he started worrying that his uncle too would leave them, disappointed that his nephews refused to behave themselves. He tried, hard, to act as if things were fine again, as if he didn’t miss his mother at all, but it was all for naught. Even if he could sometimes fool those who only knew him in passing, his cultivation was still suffering greatly from his too intense grief, and so Lan Qiren knew that things still weren’t right.

Out of other options, Lan Qiren decided that a longer change of habit might do his nephews good. Lan Xichen, privately, thought that it showed their uncle really didn’t understand Lan Wangji at times, because his brother thrived on habits and would be upset over any change. At the same time, Lan Qiren was older and knew better, of course. So Lan Xichen kept any remarks he might have had to himself, and nodded along to his uncle’s idea.

The place where Lan Qiren took them was a far away one, too far in fact for him to have taken Lan Xichen there to conferences before. Lan Qiren wasn’t the strongest of flyers, least of all when he had to carry along a boy of nearly ten years old. And yet he managed, with both his nephews riding his sword with him. Lan Xichen figured his uncle had to be really desperate, and he felt awful for causing so much trouble.

That place had an unpleasant name, an unpleasant look, and the disciples of that sect had an unpleasant air to them, grim and a little rough, completely unlike the people Lan Xichen was used to at home.

Privately, and as soon as he laid eyes upon the Unclean Realm, Lan Xichen found himself hoping that Lan Wangji would throw a tantrum and they’d have to go home soon. If he had to be miserable, he’d rather be miserable in a familiar place.

For the time being, they were welcomed at the gate by a very tall woman, taller than Lan Qiren or any of the disciples of her sect. She was Nie-furen, Lan Qiren explained as she guided them inside the Unclean Realm. The warning was appreciated. She really didn’t look much like the few women Lan Xichen had seen in his life, and wore men’s clothes. If he hadn’t been warned, he might have mistaken her for a man, though he would learn in the coming days that nearly all the women in the Unclean Realm dressed in that manner to be more efficient in Night Hunts. They only wore normal dresses for conferences, and only if they felt like it.

Nie-furen took them to a great hall where, seated upon a high and mighty throne, Nie-zongzhu greeted them with rather less effusions than Lan Xichen was used to from sect leaders, although that sober manner seemed to please Lan Qiren rather more than Jiang-zongzhu and Jin-zongzhu’s warmth.

Grown-ups were rather odd, and Lan Xichen didn’t quite have the capacity to reflect on that at the moment, too fascinated by the sight of Nie-zonghu.

Certainly, there was a lot to be fascinated by, when confronted by such a man. Although he was a little shorter than his wife when he eventually stood up, he was at least twice as broad, with hands so large that they could probably have wrapped around Lan Xichen’s shoulders and still have length to spare. None of that really mattered to Lan Xichen though. What really caught his attention was a detail that others wouldn’t have seen.

Nie-zongzhu had two red threads hanging from his hand.

Upon seeing this, Lan Xichen, who had struggled to feel anything for months and months now, was overcome with irrational anger. How unfair was it for that man to have two people fated to him, when his own parents had been denied such a happy fate? Sure, upon looking more closely, Lan Xichen realised that one appeared to have been severed. It had to have been rather recent, since its colour had only started its slow transformation toward the dull white it would become when the worst of the grief was over. Still, that man had had two fated lovers, when Lan Xichen’s mother had never lived with hers, when his father had been forced to accept the shadow of a love that could never be his.

How very unfair. Lan Xichen would have cried from rage if it wouldn’t have been disgraceful for his sect.

“And how long do you want to stay here then?” Nie-zongzhu asked, continuing a conversation that Lan Xichen hadn’t paid attention to.

“I was thinking a week to start,” Lan Qiren replied. “If it seems to be having positive effects, and if Nie-zongzhu has no objections, I’ll return to the Cloud Recesses and come back in a month or two to get them back.”

Nie zongzhu nodded, as did his wife.

“It’ll be good for our boys as well,” he said. “Huaisang hasn’t been the same either lately… not that I expect your boys to spend much time with him anyway. From what you’ve said about them, I think they’ll get along more with Mingjue, even with the age difference. Which is good too. He needs friends, that child.”

Nie-furen rolled her eyes at these words, and glared at her husband. He glared right back, and though there seemed to be no heat or anger between them, Lan Xichen still shivered at the intensity of emotion displayed there, right in front of outsiders. Things like that just didn’t happen at home, at least not in his experience. But then again, he’d never been in the same room as both his parents, so what did he know?

“Well, I guess that’s settled,” Nie-furen grumbled. “I’ll take those two to the training grounds so you can have a chat about politics. Don’t forget to tell Qiren about that thing that happened the other month at the border, I really didn’t like that.”

Without waiting for an answer, Nie-furen walked to Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, grabbing both of them by the hand to lead them out of the hall. Lan Wangji tried to pull away, but stopped quickly after one severe look from Nie-furen who probably mistook his disgust for rebellion, the way some teachers did at home. Lan Wangji looked very miserable over being touched that way by a complete stranger, and Lan Xichen knew already that the rest of the day wasn’t going to be a good one for his little brother. He sighed. When Lan Wangji was having a bad day, everyone was having a bad day.

Feeling depressed over this situation, Lan Xichen’s gaze dropped to the ground. After just a few steps, his eyebrows rose high on his forehead as he realised that for some reason, they were following his red thread, something that had never happened before.

After years and years of seeing his own thread go far into the distance, Lan Xichen had stopped paying attention to it. Whenever he’d travelled with his uncle, the thread had always gone in a different direction from the one they were headed. At the venerable age of ten, Lan Xichen had determined that he was never going to meet the person fated for him. Considering his family’s luck with love, and after hearing his uncle’s many complaints on the topic, Lan Xichen usually thought it was for the best.

And yet, in spite of himself, Lan Xichen felt a little excitement start to spike inside his chest the longer they followed his thread. Things had been terrible for so long, but if he could just have one good thing again…

That excitement rose ever higher when Nie-furen called out her sons’ names, and Lan Xichen first laid eyes on Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue was a few years older than him, and a good deal taller too. He had the same hard eyes his mother had, and broad shoulders like his father. Lan Xichen had never really taken the time to wonder what he liked as far as others’ appearance went, but even he could only acknowledge that Nie Mingjue was a very handsome teenager, and one who very obviously already had a golden core. Combined with the things he’d heard here and there people say about Nie gongzi…

To Lan Xichen’s great joy, the red thread on his finger really was going toward Nie Mingjue, which sent his heart racing… until Nie Mingjue was close enough for his hand to be visible, and Lan Xichen realised there was no thread at all attached to the older boy. Instead, his own thread continued going behind Nie Mingjue, and toward another boy who was struggling to run as fast as Nie-gongzi, his round face all red from the effort.

Everything Nie Mingjue was, that boy wasn’t. He was small, a little scrawny, with ears too big for his face and his teeth looked all weird, perhaps because they were a mix of baby teeth, adult ones, and a lot of gaps where the adult teeth hadn’t yet started to grow.

Whatever spark of joy and hope Lan Xichen had felt quickly dissipated upon seeing the person whom fate had chosen for him. He should have known he wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Mingjue, these boys are Lan Huan and Lan Zhan,” Nie-furen announced. “They are the sons of Lan zongzhu, and will be staying here for a little while. I’ll leave them in your care, so be a good host.”

Nie Mingjue nodded nonchalantly, apparently not particularly impressed by his mother’s severe appearance. The same could not be said of the second boy who went very still when Nie-furen turned her attention to him.

“Huaisang, for once, be good as well and don’t cause trouble. Don’t bother them, and don’t create problems when others have decided what game they want to play, or else I’ll deal with you.”

“Yes, mother,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, giving his mother a half hearted bow. “If they’re here, does it mean we don’t have to train today?”

“You lazy boy, of course that’s your only worry!” Nie-furen sighed, trying not to smile. “It will be up to your guest, depending whether they’re interested in a demonstration or not. You’d better put in some real effort if they do.”

Nie Huaisang bowed again, but not quickly enough to hide a grimace. Worse still, when Nie-furen left, Nie Huaisang immediately stuck out his tongue in her direction, which scandalised both Lan boys.

Lan Xichen in particular felt his heart sink. If this was the person who was destined to share his life… it seemed like a fate even worse than his father’s, and it almost made him want to cry. He would have, if not for Nie Mingjue’s presence. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of an older boy this accomplished, his pride just wouldn’t survive it.

“Stop being a brat,” Nie Mingjue ordered his brother, lightly slapping the back of Nie Huaisang’s head. This, in turn, made him bite his tongue, hard enough to cry a little.

“Mean! Da-ge is the worst!”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, all of his attention on the Lan brothers. Lan Xichen tried to stand as tall as he could, to make himself look older than he was.

“So, you’re Lan Huan, uh?” Nie Mingjue asked. “My father says he’s seen you at some conferences, and that you’re always very well behaved. He’s always saying we should be more like that. I guess that’s why you’ve been invited here?”

There was something in Nie Mingjue’s tone of voice that seemed to imply that ‘well behaved’ wasn’t a good thing to be. Lan Xichen, who worked so hard to meet all the expectations of his uncle even when he was so constantly sad and empty, felt baffled by the idea. A little embarrassed as well. He so wanted Nie Mingjue to think he was cool too, but apparently he had failed before even having the chance to prove himself.

“Do you know how to fight?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Or are you still too young for that?”

“I’m ten,” Lan Xichen retorted with perhaps a little more annoyance than was really polite. “Of course I know how to fight. But I didn’t bring a sword for a demonstration, and Qinghe Nie uses sabres, so I can’t borrow something to spar with you.”

“As if you’d be good enough to spar with da-ge anyway,” Nie Huaisang claimed, earning himself another light slap on the head from his brother. “What? It’s true! Nobody’s better than you. You can even fight with grown-ups already, and everyone says the Lans are just a bunch of monks that only play music, and…”

“Huaisang, shut up,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “I swear I’ll tell mother if you keep insulting our guests.”

“I’m not insulting… oh. I was rude?”

Nie Mingjue nodded, which made Nie Huaisang look a little awkward.

“Spar with me, Lan Huan” Nie Mingjue decided. “We do have some swords, for training. It’s always good to know how to use more than one weapon. Come with me, we’ll find you something.”

Maybe Lan Qiren had been onto something with his idea of coming to this strange place, because for the first time in ages, Lan Xichen found himself feeling genuinely excited about something. He was going to spar, with an older boy, and one that looked really cool, and who wasn’t even acting like it’d be a chore to practice with someone younger.

It was fun, fighting with Nie Mingjue. The sword Lan Xichen had been given wasn’t great, nothing at all like the one he used at home, but even with an inferior weapon he held his own. Nie Mingjue had the advantage of size, training, and experience, but Lan Xichen’s smaller size could be an advantage too, and he almost landed a few blows, for which Nie Mingjue complimented him.

It had been a long while since a compliment really thrilled him.

They sparred for a long while. Longer perhaps than was quite wise, considering that Lan Xichen hadn’t trained very seriously that past year. Even as he grew tired and started making mistakes, Lan Xichen refused to give up, desperate to absorb every little bit of fun he could while the feeling lasted. He didn’t even mind when Nie Mingjue started pushing him into a corner of the training field, clearly on the verge of winning their friendly fight.

Lan Xichen didn’t mind, but Lan Wangji did.

He was always a bit of an odd child, wary of strangers, protective of family. If Lan Xichen had not been so taken by his match with Nie Mingjue, he would have noticed his brother’s growing distress about the fight, would have seen that Nie Huaisang wasn’t paying attention to Lan Wangji (nor the fight for that matter), that there was no adults around them to check what they were doing. He would have reacted faster when Lan Wangji ran onto the training field, would have deflected Nie Mingjue’s sabre to protect him.

Lan Xichen would have…

He didn’t.

Because it was only a friendly spar, and because Nie Mingjue was so skilled, he managed, just barely, to avoid inflicting any serious injury onto Lan Wangji. Still the little boy now had a bleeding gash on his forearm, spilling blood in a thin but steady flow.

"I'll take him to the doctor," Nie Mingjue announced, picking up Lan Wangji as if he weighed nothing. It said a lot about Wangji's shock that he didn't try to escape and just kept uselessly pressing his hand on the wound, wailing like a miserable kitten. "Huaisang, stay here with Lan Huan. If someone comes looking for us, tell them what happened."

Nie Huaisang, who'd just trotted toward them when he'd heard shouting, rose on his toes to catch a glimpse of Wangji’s wound.

"Is he going to die?" he asked. "That's a lot of blood, and mommy says…"

"Shut up, you're rude again," Nie Mingjue snapped.

Nie Huaisang flinched and stepped away, falling silent. Nie Mingjue left, all but running away with poor Lan Wangji in his arms while Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang stood there, watching him disappear.

When Nie Mingjue was out of view, Nie Huaisang grabbed Lan Xichen's hand and tried to drag him away.

"Let's go, it's boring here."

Lan Xichen tried to pull his hand free. He was less difficult than his brother, but they shared a dislike of being touched by strangers, which Nie Huaisang was. Even if they were linked by fate… In fact, because they were linked by fate, because Nie Huaisang had joined their hands that carried that horrible red thread, Lan Xichen was even less inclined than usual to let himself be touched.

“He said to wait here,” he complained, pulling hard to get free, in vain. Nie Huaisang was small and skinny, but he had a strong grip. “We can’t disobey.”

“Yes we can,” Nie Huaisang said. “It’s easy, I disobey all the time. And mother said we had to be good hosts. It’s too boring to stay here, so I’ll take you somewhere more fun. Do you like candies?”

“Sugar is bad for you,” Lan Xichen recited. He did like candies, very much so. His uncle said candies were bad for his health and for his teeth, but his mother always used to give him some anyway.

He hadn’t had any candies since she’d died.

That thought, combined with fear about Lan Wangji’s wound, finished ruining Lan Xichen’s fragile good mood.

“Mommy used to say it’s only bad if you have too much,” Nie Huaisang protested. He pulled again on Lan Xichen’s hand. “Do you like birds?”

The question surprised Lan Xichen. He had never really taken time to wonder if he liked birds or not. Nobody had ever asked before.

“They’re pretty. I guess I like them well enough.”

“I love birds,” Nie Huaisang announced proudly. “Do you want to see a raven’s nest? There’s chicks in it, and they are very ugly, it’s very cute.”

“Things can’t be ugly and cute at the same time.”

“Yes they can. You have to come and see the chicks, and then you’ll understand. Let’s go check on them, please?”

Lan Xichen hesitated. Nie Mingjue had told them to stay where they were, implying that adults would soon come to check on them. After that incident with Wangji, it was almost certain that Lan Qiren would realise his plan was not going to work, and that he would take his nephews back home right away. Lan Xichen wanted to go home. Home was very sad, but it was also very safe, and he didn’t have to feel any big emotions over there.

But if they went home as soon as adults came to fetch them, that meant Lan Xichen would not have a chance to see those raven chicks. It would be upsetting, because then he would spend the rest of his life wondering how any creature could be both ugly and cute.

“Is it very far from here?” Lan Xichen asked.

Nie Huaisang grinned, and pulled again on Lan Xichen’s hand who stopped resisting and followed at last.

“It’s really close,” Nie Huaisang claimed as they walked. “It’s in the gardens by my bedroom. Do you like flowers? We have very nice flowers there. It’s not the best season for it, but dad planted mulberries there for mommy and me. Because of what she called me, you know?”

“You talk a lot,” Lan Xichen mumbled. “Do you need to hold my hand?”

“You could get lost,” Nie Huaisang replied, and then tried to be quiet for a moment.

It was true that Lan Xichen might have gotten lost easily in that place. It felt very different from the Cloud Recesses, with walls and turns everywhere, more a fortress than a place for cultivation. Maybe it was better that Nie Huaisang kept holding his hand. He’d gotten used to it anyway, and already stopped minding. In fact, it was even a little nice. Wangji used to hold his hand a lot when they went places, but his hatred of others’ touch had become too intense in that past year.

“You said it wasn’t very far,” Lan Xichen remarked after a while, growing worried that maybe their escape would be noticed and they’d be punished.

“We’re almost there,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Just a little further… I had to take a different way than usual so mother wouldn’t see us. This is a secret way she doesn’t know about. You have to promise you won’t tell!”

“You shouldn’t keep secrets from your mother.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged, and kept pulling Lan Xichen forward.

“It’s okay, it’s not actually bad if I keep secrets,” he said. “She’s not my real mother anyway. She’s just dad’s wife.”

“I don’t understand,” Lan Xichen said, which was almost entirely a lie.

He thought he understood, but it couldn’t be that. If it was what he was thinking about, then surely Nie Huaisang wouldn’t speak so freely about it. Things like that… the adults didn’t speak about them, and the children weren’t supposed to know anything at all about them. It was gossip, and gossip was forbidden.

Nobody must have told that to Nie Huaisang, who cheerfully chattered on.

“It’s like this: Mother isn’t my real mother,” he explained. “She married dad when they were both young. Then she had Mingjue, and he’s the real son that matters. But then dad had me with my real mommy, because he met her on a Night Hunt and she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and also she called him some very bad words when he acted like an idiot, so he fell in love with her even if he was married. And then… ah, that’s the garden!”

At last, after turning endlessly among grey walls, they had indeed reached a little oasis of green. It was a very pretty little garden, neatly kept and organised around one very tall tree. Lan Xichen guessed the nest had to be somewhere up there.

He badly wanted to see it, now that they had come all that way, but Nie Huaisang was still chatting and it would have been rude to interrupt.

“It was real nice when I lived with mommy and my aunt and uncle,” Nie Huaisang said, walking toward the tree, still pulling Lan Xichen by the hand. “But then a while ago mommy got sick real bad, so dad brought us here because cultivators have better doctors. But then she died anyway, and my uncle didn’t want me back even though I thought he liked me, but actually he didn’t because mom having me when she wasn’t married was real bad? I don’t get it, but it’s what da-ge says must have happened, and da-ge is always right. So dad said I should be taught to be a cultivator, and now I’m stuck here.”

Nie Huaisang paused for breath and sighed deeply. “I really miss mommy.”

“I miss my mother too,” Lan Xichen said without thinking. “She died last year.”

Nie Huaisang froze, and threw him a terrified look.

“Was I rude again? I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have talked about mommy.”

Lan Xichen gave the question some consideration before shaking his head.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I don’t get to talk about her a lot,” he confessed. “Uncle and her didn’t get along. I think he was very angry at her sometimes, so I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mother is angry at dad about me,” Nie Huaisang said, as if sharing some great wisdom. “Da-ge says mother still likes me, though. But also that I shouldn’t talk too much about my real mommy, and also I shouldn’t call her my real mommy because it hurts mother. Oh! But I’m not angry at your mommy, and you’re not angry at mine. If you want you can tell me about her! And I’ll tell you about mine?”

It was a very tempting offer. Lan Xichen missed his mother so much it hurt every time he thought about her, and he was indeed thinking about her most of the time. He’d always been thinking a lot about her, even before she got sick and died. He’d missed her even when she was alive, he sometimes thought. But he couldn’t have told that to anyone. His father never wanted to see them unless it was important or a holiday, and Lan Qiren really didn’t like hearing anyone talk about his sister-in-law, and Wangji… Wangji still missed her so bad, he still didn’t really understand that she was gone for ever, so Lan Xichen didn’t say anything for fear of making things harder for his brother.

Maybe it was fine to talk to Nie Huaisang.

“She was sick a long time,” Lan Xichen explained, letting his eyes fall to the ground. “But even when she was sick, she would still try to be nice to us. She’d read us stories. Then she got really too sick, and it was me who read stories for her and for Wangji. Then the month after we were told we couldn’t visit her like usual, and I heard people say she’d died.”

“You didn’t live with her?”

“No, of course not,” Lan Xichen said, which earned him a look of horror from Nie Huaisang, as if he’d said his mother had two heads. “Nobody lives with their mother.”

“Yes they do!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “I lived with my mommy my whole life until she died! Everyone lives with their mommies. How else is she going to give you a kiss before sleep?”

“She didn’t.”

Nie Huaisang gasped. “But then you’re not protected!”

“Protected against what?”

Nie Huaisang threw Lan Xichen a pitying look, as if that were the saddest thing he’d ever heard.

“Against the nightmares! You have to have a kiss before sleep,” Nie Huaisang explained in a very serious tone, like a teacher giving a lesson, “or else you’re going to have bad dreams. It’s most efficient if it’s your mommy who does it, of course. Dad does it too sometimes, but he’s busy and I don’t like his moustache anyway because it scratches my cheek, and also he doesn’t give as good protection. Now it’s mostly da-ge who gives me a good night kiss. He complains a lot, and he tickles me sometimes, but it’s really good for protecting, almost as good as mommy.”

A little dark ball of cold and hot formed over Lan Xichen’s heart at the idea that in this world, at least one person had had constant access to their own mother, to her hugs, to her kisses, to her soft words. And maybe it wasn’t just Nie Huaisang who’d been that lucky: after all, Nie-furen had welcomed them alongside her husband, she had chatted with Nie Mingjue quite easily, and seemed free to come and go as she pleased even though she was the sect leader’s wife. Maybe it was a Nie thing.

But now that he thought of it, everywhere his uncle had taken him that past year, sect leaders would welcome their guests in person, with their wives at their side if they had one.

Maybe it wasn’t that children living with their mothers was a Nie thing.

Maybe it was Wangji and him not seeing their mother more than once a month that was odd, just as it was odd for their parents to not be linked by fate, the way so many other married people were.

Lan Xichen didn’t know when he started crying. He only realised when Nie Huaisang squeezed his hand, and tried to wipe his face with his sleeve, looking as if he might cry too.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude!” he cried out, scrubbing Lan Xichen’s cheeks a little too hard, unaware of his own strength. “I always say the wrong thing like that. I don’t even understand what I say that’s bad, but people always get angry and say I’m insolent and rude. But I didn’t want to be rude! Can I do something so you’ll stop crying?”

“I miss my mother,” Lan Xichen sobbed.

He’d hoped that talking about her would make it hurt less, but it hadn’t worked. He still missed her as much, but now he also had to deal with the realisation that if his family hadn’t been so strange, he might have seen her a lot more before she died.

“Oh. Then I guess it’s okay to cry,” Nie Huaisang said, giving up on drying Lan Xichen’s face and instead squeezing his hand again. “I cry a lot too about mommy. Everyone says I shouldn’t, because it was long ago and because boys shouldn’t cry. But da-ge lets me cry and he doesn’t tell anyone. I won’t tell either, I promise!”

Lan Xichen tried to thank Nie Huaisang, but only ended up sobbing harder. His face was awash with tears and snot, his eyes and throat hurt from crying so hard, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. Except for the day he’d heard his mother had died, and a little at the funeral too, he hadn’t really cried in all that time. He’d just felt numb and cold. He’d felt as if nothing really mattered, not in a world where his mother wasn’t there to smile at him anymore.

After such a long time feeling so little, there was a twisted joy in giving in to his sorrow, in crying until there were no tears left in him, until he couldn’t even stand anymore and Nie Huaisang had to help him sit under that big tree.

The whole time Lan Xichen cried, Nie Huaisang stayed silent. He shed a few tears of his own, either out of sympathy or because he’d been reminded that his mother too was gone for good, but didn’t say a word.

He also didn’t let go of Lan Xichen’s hand, not even one moment, even though there was no risk of getting lost now. Lan Xichen was grateful for that. In the midst of the immense sorrow that had finally overcome him, it was nice to know he wasn’t alone.

After a long, long while, Lan Xichen calmed down at last. He was hiccuping a little, and felt a little bit of headache on his forehead, but other than that he felt better than he had in a long while. Not good, not yet, but better.

“It was a good big cry,” Nie Huaisang said when it was over. “Sometimes, you need a good big cry, da-ge says. Do you want to go back now?”

Lan Xichen wiped his face clean, or as close to clean as it was ever going to be without some fresh water to help.

It was already late, he figured, and by then people had to have noticed they had disobeyed Nie Mingjue’s order to stay put. They were going to be punished for that. Lan Xichen didn’t like being punished, but he also felt that since it was going to happen anyway, he might as well try to make it worth the future discomfort.

“I think I’d like to see those baby ravens now,” he told Nie Huaisang, who grinned as if he’d been given all his favourite candies at once.

“Yes! But we’ll have to climb up the tree. Do you know how?”

Lan Xichen shook his head. Tree climbing wasn’t part of the official curriculum of Gusu Lan.

“It’s fine, I’ll teach you,” Nie Huaisang offered. “I’m very good at it, because da-ge taught me how.”

“He seems like a good da-ge,” Lan Xichen remarked as he stood up.

“There’s no better da-ge in the whole entire world,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “He is always grumpy, but he gives me hugs and also he lets me have all his mushrooms and sometimes he shares his desserts with me. If you want, I can share him with you. But he’s my da-ge first, so don’t forget!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t steal him,” Lan Xichen promised, though he would have dearly liked a hug, and also maybe some dessert.

For the time being, Lan Xichen contented himself with Nie Huaisang’s explanation on how to climb a tree. It turned out that it wasn’t too hard, especially not for someone with martial art training, so Lan Xichen quickly got the hang of it and followed Nie Huaisang high up that tree.

The raven chicks really were extremely ugly, but Lan Xichen had to admit that they were also strangely cute. Nie Huaisang and him were laughing together about it when Nie-Furen and Lan Qiren found them. They’d been sitting on a branch for so long that it was very nearly night, and they had to be rescued. Nie Huaisang might have been very good at climbing trees, but it turned out that he still hadn’t learned how to get back down except by falling, or by having his brother climb up to get him.

Since Nie Mingjue wasn’t there, it had to be Lan Qiren who went up to grab them. He looked very cross about it, which scared Lan Xichen at first. Then he noticed that Nie Huaisang was struggling not to giggle, and… and it was true that Lan Qiren was making a very funny face as he went up the tree, so Lan Xichen found himself laughing as well.

They were both still laughing when they hopped down from Lan Qiren’s shoulders onto the ground. Surely this insolence, combined with their earlier disobedience of Nie Mingjue’s order, should have gotten them punished. Indeed Nie-furen appeared in favour of that, but Lan Qiren looked at his nephew in a funny way before asking Nie-furen for leniency.

“I haven’t heard him laugh in all that time,” Lan Qiren explained, and immediately Nie-furen’s anger cooled down a little.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad in the Unclean Realm after all, Lan Xichen thought as they all walked away together to go have dinner. And maybe it would be okay that he was apparently linked by fate to someone like Nie Huaisang.

Lan Xichen was glad when his uncle told him that night before bed that since Lan Wangji’s wound was nothing bad at all, that their plan hadn’t changed and they would be staying a little while in the Unclean Realm for a change of air.

After all, Nie Mingjue had just promised Huaisang, Wangji, and him that he’d teach them how to climb down from trees, and that would surely be great fun.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #nie mingjue #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #This was supposed to be a valentine fic looooool #but I'm trying to clean out my wip list during random bursts of energy

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starshiningsirius · 4 years ago

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Dr. Jerkyll and Mr. Hyde (Yandere Leech twins x reader)

An au idea I had came to mind based off @yandere-wishes Victorian twst story and @yandere-romanticaa 's Extraterrestrial story.

I love these two eels and I'm late on their birthday but it's still their birthday for me.

The clear moonlit sky shown brightly over the waters of the ocean. As yet another scream echoed within the streets of a supposedly vacant city.

The detective woke up with a start but not from the scream, but from the ringing of her phone. A report she had been writing stuck to her face from the humid atmosphere. She picked it up getting a few details from Idia, who was panicking on the other side of the line. Considering he worked in the criminal department at the desk and didn't have to see any bodies whatsoever you would think he'd be calm when trying to say what happened.

"Calm down Idia. Tell me what happened?" Her voice was gentle since yelling wouldn't help his nerves.

"Therewasanothermurder! Theyclaimedanothervictim!" He spoke so fast that his words wouldn't be understood by most but she was used to this with him and every word was caught by the detective's ears.

"Where's the crime scene?"

"In front of Sam's shop on Crystal Road, Ms. Y/n L/n." The voice of Idia's younger sibling popped up a contrasting his older brother's cowardly behavior.

He wanted to be just like his older brother so he spent his days in the office with him. Though there were times when Idia tapped out and his brother had to step in.

"Thank you both. I'll head their now." She hung up after hearing a farewell from both brothers.

The candle was long out and she grabbed her gun, notebook, and pen within the darkness, before venturing out the confines of her home.

When she got there a crowd had surrounded one spot in particular.

Cater was already there taking photos of the scene as it was his job being a forensic photographer.

"Hey, hey! Y/n's here, make way!" The crowd parted for her as soon as he announced her presence.

Whispers were muttered as she passed through into the middle of the crime scene. Mostly about how she hadn't caught this killer yet. She ignored them though and went on to meet with her coworker.

"It never ceases to amaze me how your always here first Cater, if anything you should be a suspect." She started off saying to her compatriot.

"Can't help it if I want to stay informed dectective, I just want to stay informed before anyone else." His smile on his face was out of place as he took another photo of the corpse.

"Who was it this time?"

"Such a poor fate to befall dear Monsieur Heart." A new voice joined in the conversation.

"Rook, I see you've arrived but can I get their name please?" The detective said sighing at the theatrics of her friend.

"His name was Ace Trappola, I can't imagine how Monsieur Spade must be feeling about this tragedy." Rook feigned a sorrowful look.

"Oh yeah A-Deuce kun were inseparable, I feel sorry for him. Think he knows already?"

"If there as inseparable as you say Cater then I suppose not, he isn't here yet otherwise I'm sure he'd cause a scene." She noted.

"That doesn't make him a suspect though right? I mean sure he's been a suspect in many crimes before, but Deuce kun far too soft!" Cater was a bit frantic at the thought alone.

"No, I doubt it was him he wouldn't want to disappoint his mother with something as vulgar as murder, he cares for her far too much to do that." That calmed his worries.

"You know I've heard Monsieur Heart have many laments on how his delivery to Roi d' Rose-" Cater didn't let Rook finish.

"RIDDLE?! No way he did this! Have you seen how strict his mother is? Just waltzing in their office and so much as suspecting her son is a one way ticket to hearing her screams! Besides I doubt his mother would even let him out this late anyway, he's always about following the rules set in place for him." Cater says with an imaginary sweat that could have formed to express his fear and anxiety.

"True, and I can't afford another headache from that lady, but we could get some valuable intel from him about Trappola's demeanor the past few days seeing as it may be a pattern in the serial killers motives."

"What about Sam? He's gotta know something considering the murder occurred in front of his shop." Cater's gaze went toward the shop to the right of them.

"Ah the shop keep, a wonderfully eccentric man with many secrets." Rook stated his opinion of him from what he gathered on his own free time.

"Says the French man whose got info on everyone from stalking them on the street." The detective says shaking her head at the strange man next to her who happily smiled at her statement.

"I wouldn't call it that more so getting to know my prey more personally." She sighed hearing his reply.

"A crime analyst such as yourself is such a good cover up!" Cater's response made her sigh once again.

She shook her head toward her coworkers. They took their job in a mild manner but beyond that they did do well to get it done. Even though the means of how they did it were very much questionable in her eyes.

She looked toward the ground seeing the body of the former male right on the cusp of adulthood. His orange hair was a bit disheveled and the looks of shock on his face petrified in time.

"Ah, the dectective is already using those perceptive eyes of hers." Cater's words fell on deaf ears as she was examining the crime scene closely.

"As expected of Reine de la déduction, such dedication in her work. Très bien!"

Their bones were disfigured, just like the last person. No one has this type of strength it didn't make any sense. The only lead that was given but she noticed a glowing substance in his mouth.

"Cater, Rook, I need some confirmation. Out of all the other times these cases have been appearing there weren't any liquid substances to be found beside the occasional blood right?"

"You are correct."

"Yeah, nothing else to be found from what I could see." They both confirmed her suspicion.

She had to go talk to Jade again, but first thing tomorrow she had to interrogate Sam, as well as Riddle Rosenhearts which was sure to be headache on her part.

* * *

His mother was an agitation to say the least. During her entry into his mother's office and upon stating the reason for her entry, Riddle's mother had already hated her the moment she finished speaking. Yelling and hollering about how her son would never commit such a crime even though the dectective never stated he was a suspect in the slightest.

She only asked to question the behavior of Mr.Trappola as of late before he met his end. He was under no suspicion whatsoever but she wasn't having that and kept screeching until her son had to calm her down.

It was much more pleasant afterwards but the headache Y/n had in the early morning just listening to her screeching didn't disappear throughout the whole endeavour.

Just before she bid him farewell he apologized deeply for his mother's behavior with a red face of complete embarrassment. To which she replied it was alright and thanked him for his time. Unfortunately though she had to bear that burden on her own as Rook and Cater had their own jobs to partake in analyzing the other crimes and investigating the trend within the series of murders. It was unfair but that was life. By the time she exited their establishment it was already in the afternoon a little after lunch.

Next was to venture to Sam's shop which was right where the crime had taken place. The body was already removed and taken to forensics, so the only thing left was a broken street lamp.

"Ah, well if isn't the dectective, I believe I already know the pleasure of seeing you here on this fine day," He tipped his hat to her with a smile on his face.

"Afternoon to you too Sam. I would like to acquire any information you have on the murder of Ace Trappola that occurred last night, in front of your establishment."

"Such a shame the little demon, was too young to have bite the dust. But you know as well as I my information comes with a price."

"A thousand madols should suffice a description of what you saw right?" She questioned handing a stack of the paper currency to which he smiled at.

"All I know is that last night was certainly something else. I heard a smash of a lamppost outside my window, up on the second floor. Shop was already closed though. When I looked down I saw what looked to be two silhouettes outside the window. One way taller than the other though, I recognized of Trappola on the ground and something glowed within the hands of the killer, a vial of sorts. He poured it down the throat of the little demon, but Trappola put up a good fight before it was over."

"Over? Can you specify?"

"As in he was left on the ground for dead, it looked like he was choking on whatever was consumed. The killer held him tightly after he realized he was choking. It was similar to a hug but one that was more deadly than a normal one. After he dropped him to the ground and walked away laughing hysterically at who he squeezed."

"And you weren't going to go to the police to inform that you had witnessed the murderer of a serial killer!" Her voice had raised a bit in volume as her agrevated state didn't alleviate since earlier in the day.

"I'm not one to get involved in others private life, Dectective. I've got a business to run." She understood his point though exhaling a sigh through her nose.

"Right. If you want to keep your life you keep your mouth shut. Alright I thank you for the intel." The dectective closed her notebook after writing down many notes on the case.

"Pleasure doing business with ya, Dectective! Best of luck to you as well! You'll be needing it more than anyone." She was only able to hear the first part of it not when his cheery demeanor went away.

She walked out to her final destination of the day, a close friend of hers. His name was Jade Leech, a smart man that excelled in pharmaceuticals just as did Riddle's mother but in a more different sense. His potions were revolutionary with in the subject of alchemy and his botany skills and knowledge made his fame and fortune.

He's helped her on countless cases before, with his expertise in potions it aided in knowing key components to solving head bangers such as this.

As she reached the door of his manor she knocked before waiting a moment or two to see his smile.

"Dectective, how pleasant it is to see you today." He flashed his signature smile toward me, with pearly teeth straight and white.

"It's nice to see you too Jade. May I come in?"

"Your always welcome here, though I must say you do look exhausted how about I put on some tea?" He made way for me to step in.

"You don't have to Jade."

"I insist, naturally I should show good hospitality to all my visitors. Your free to take a seat wherever you like."

"So how are your mushrooms doing?" She said starting up conversation on a favorable topic for him. He was in the kitchen that connected to the empty dining room, that opened the way to the living room where she sat.

"I imagine you didn't come here just to speak on how my mushrooms are doing alone?" He spoke it in the form of a question but he already knew the answer with a knowing smile on his face that she couldn't see but knew he had.

"You are right, my apologies, I actually require your aid with a substance that could be the key in solving the recent serial killings." She watched as he walked in with two plates in hand.

"It's fine, I'm glad you can come to me for help." He served the two plates, one in front of her and the other in front of himself.

They had pasta on both of them with the mushrooms I mentioned. It smelled heavenly. Her stomach growled loudly which caused Jade to laugh lightly.

"I'm assuming you haven't eaten much of anything have you?"

"No I had too much work to do today." She blushed looking away from him.

He sighed making a small 'tsk' noise.

"You have got to take better care of yourself, that dedication of yours is admirable but otherwise you'll drive yourself into an early grave with that sort of work ethic." He chastised.

"Ah, I just don't have the time these days, I'm sorry for all the trouble you have to go through for me." Her eyes traveled toward the food with a slight guilty feeling.

"You speak as if your some sort of burden on me, quite the contrary I worry for your safety and yours alone. You may be a skilled dectective but, I care for your well being first."

Her face grew to an intolerable temperature that would make people think she was sick. She was very much surprised by his words. The first time anyone has ever said anything that endearing to her in a while.

So to ignore the feeling of her heart racing she picked up her plate kept her eyes trained on it. Her expression looked to resemble pouting.

"L -let's just eat then shall we?" She stumbled on her first word internally cursing as she heard Jade's laughter.

. . .

After they had eaten Y/n had spent some time explaining to Jade the situation with Trappola's murder and handed him the vile of the substance found at the crime scene.

He listened attentively and chimed in few times for clarity. He said he would have the analysis of the substance done within two days. Soon enough she was on her way out the door even though he had offered her to stay the night she had declined politely. It wasn't weird since they were close friends with one another anyway. Not to mention there were times where she would fall asleep while waiting for Jade to finish his analysis and he would be nice enough to place her in a room.

"Thank you Jade, I would have loved to spend more time with you, but I've been really busy as of late with all these murders." She thought for a moment and then looked up at him. He was a bit tall, scratch that he was tall, of course so she got on the tips of her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek to show him her gratitude.

Jade's face lit a flame, cheeks flushed as he touched where her lips made contact.

"I'll see you later." Was all she said before walking away briskly passed the gates of his house not looking back.

She would've heard the glass breaking inside the male's house in which indicated another presense inside.

. . .

Two days had passed and the dectective was trying to piece together what was the link between these series of murders.

She had to go check with Lilia who is the pathologist that had completed an autopsy on all the bodies of the victims. As eccentric as he was he was more tolerable than the combo of intricacies that are her co workers. Then again everyone in this office was weird in their own way.

"Ah, dectective what great weather we're having today, is it not?" He said with a smile on his face.

Unlike Jade he was significantly shorter than him so she had to look down a little to see him or stand a few feet away.

"It is indeed, Lilia. You seem to be in a good mood today."

"That is because I have made a breakthrough on today, while working through the night." His smile grew and the magenta eyes affirmed his happiness toward the news he had to share.

"On Mr. Trappola's body, I have found something strange but interesting nevertheless! A scale and not only that, but there is something you should see for yourself!" He brought her over to said man's corpse luckily the bottom half of his body is covered and the top half as well up to his shoulders.

Lilia grabbed one of his tools for dissection and beckoned her to come closer as she showed her what he had found. That's when she saw it.

Lilia had a small knife and maneuvered it to a small spot itself, lifting up a small piece of skin that was already slit and based on the size of the knife and similarity to another a butter knife it wouldn't have been able to cut the skin.

"There are two more like this on this side of his neck and three on the other side. So it seems like they're gills.

"What about the other bodies?"

"I spent the night examining those as well and they all have the same gills but Trappola here is the only one who had a few scales."

"So maybe the substance has something to do with these oddities on him. Trappola probably ingested some."

"It's quite possible that whoever this murderer is trying to test the substance on the person instead of themselves but based on Trappola's few scales being the latest attempt it seems they are making improvement for whatever the elixir's use is. These strange characteristics it reminds me of some fairytale I heard some time ago." He drifted off sounding like an old man reminiscing.

"Enlgihten me then Lilia." Knowing just how Lilia liked to ramble on about myths and legends like he'd seen them and lived through their stories.

"Well if you insist but this one involves merfolk certainly you've heard of mermaids and such right these scales on legs don't they remind you of those types of things. Gills on their necks so that half people half fish would gain the ability to breath underwater."

"Ah right but this is reality. Seeing is believing though right? Who knows though maybe they could help with the case." She was skeptic hearing about a bunch of lore that could just be coincidental but she knew better than that. Coincidents were more than just preordained.

. . .

Now back at Jade's manor the dectective was contemplating what in the world such a myth could play a factor in a murder scene. It just didn't make any sense as to why the person would need such a potion. What type of person would you have to be to go that f-

She couldn't finish that thought since Jade had opened the door.

"Ah, Jade good day to you-" the dectective looked up toward him to see the tall man staring at her for a bit longer than a few seconds. She did notice the strand of black hair usually on his right was on the left.

Unconsciously she reached up and was about to grab it before her hand was grabbed.

"Just what are you doing little dectective?" His voice got a bit darker towards the end sending shivers down her spine for a second before she saw his eyes in front of her and thought to herself for a second.

'Was his gold eye always on the right?'

A slight tighter squeeze on her hand woke her up form her head. She was reminded of the situation again. She could feel his breath closer to her face, she was internally malfunctioning and was losing her train of focus.

"Ah, I was, I was just trying to flip your black strand of hair." She stuttered and didn't internally curse herself this time since the proximity was still a factor in her brain turning to mush.

Jade suddenly smiled a wide one at that. Usually it'd be small and polite even when teasing he'd have a signature closed eyed smile keeping the adorable image of his flustered dectective in his head. But that wasn't the case this time. This smile was more menacing and sent bad news toward all who saw it.

Jade towered over her a bit more leaning to the right a bit toward her ear.

"Dectective do you know what you remind me of?" He questioned with a wide smile on his face.

He leaned in too close for comfort his breath could be felt on her right ear, while his hand on her shoulder kept her still.

"An adorable little shrimp! I could just eat you up!" He said it slow to build up suspense but it sounded serious and at the same time.

She pushed him away feeling her face heat up tremendously like an oven.

"J -Jade!" She couldn't find the words to describe what she just heard feeling beyond embarrassed and having her heart pound loudly that she swore he could hear.

"I -I have to go, thank you for your time!" She frantically stated about to run off but before she could Jade had grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"Aww can't I get a kiss too, little shrimp? Besides aren't you forgetting something?" She was too put off by the request to understand the sentence, but her mind did process part of the sentence and she remembered why she came here.

He held up a folded up sheet of paper in his hands toying with her holding it out of her reach.

How could he say that in such a cool voice? Her nerves couldn't handle so much teasing, it wasn't unlike him but it seemed he had gone over his usual gentlemanly behavior.

She hurriedly kissed him on the cheek in which he hadn't expected such a quick response to his question with a blush on his face becoming apparent and his frozen stature. She took the opportunity to jump up for the paper and ran from near the doorstep bidding farewell with the sheet of paper she had took in hand leaving a blushing male to watch her run out. His smile grew as he saw her frantic behavior, excitement bubbling within him.

He ran outside to the backyard of the mansion to go share his newfound happiness.

. . .

"Jade! Shrimpy is really cute!" The one male spoke to Jade in a tone of voice that was different than that of a few minutes, one that would have made him believe he was Jade himself.

There appearances were so similar, cept for the eyes and voice they were twins after all. With a little makeup and easy voice tone change one could hardly tell the difference anyway.

"I'd thought you'd understand if you saw her up close, Floyd." Jade was actually outside tending to his mushrooms in the garden while his look alike was entertaining the female detective that had left in a hurry. Though knowing his brother he could already assume how it must have went. Thinking of his little dectective being so flustered indefinitely brought out his sadistic side a bit.

"Can we keep her?" Floyd was so fond of her seeing her turn red, hearing her heart beating loudly, when she stuttered and that kiss on the cheek pretty much sealed the deal for him. She was so full of life and it brought excitement for him since he had to stay within the manor and avoid everyone. His behavior would be brash and scare many in the public eye not only that but his strength was inhuman which could cause problems for the person on the receiving end. Especially if you were trying to blend in.

They only came from the sea to see the lives of humans and unlike one of their friends who started a business in this day and age. Jade could survive on land with the ability to easily fool others with a facade whereas Floyd couldn't do that all the time and would probably squeeze someone for no reason other than boredom.

He didn't like being confined but after seeing the dectective sleeping on the couch once, he became curious as to who she was and why Jade spent so much time helping her. He knew for a fact his brother was not at all kind or generous. He was beginning to finally understand.

"We are but you have to be patient, you did give her both sheets of paper before she ran off correct?" His brother inquired finally seeing the hunger in his brother's eyes.

"Yup, she gave me a kiss just so she could distract me and take it. Shrimpy is so cunning she makes me want to squeeze her and pay her back for catching me off guard like that." The thought alone sounded enticing to Floyd, he couldn't wait to wrap his tail around her.

"I need you to go on another 'outing' tonight we have to perfect this first if we want to have any shot at having her to ourselves." Jade's words did nothing to damper his mood as his excitement reached a new level at the thought of showing his little Shrimpy off to everyone.

They were trying to get make a potion in which a human could become a sea creature, though it was easy for Jade to make one for himself and Floyd to come on land. The same can't be said for a person that's been human and has not a single gene that ties them to the ocean. Altering genetics is difficult and delicate and one mistake and their dear little detective could end up just like those poor unfortunate souls that were test subjects. Jade would never risk bringing her with them under the sea if he wasn't sure she'd make it.

"Okay~ Jade!" He said eagerly!

Now that Floyd was on board as well he would be more motivated and inclined to help, making it more easier for Jade as he wouldn't bother and complain so much about being on land longer.

. . .

She barely slept a wink after what had occurred. Every time she thought about her encounter with Jade she'd blush and bury her face into a pillow with frustration.

She tried before to get some of her work done before that, but that didn't work out too well as her mind drifted back to the same situation.

How close he was, the warmth of his breath against her ear, it was enough to make her brain stop functioning as if he were there again.

He seemed far more clingy than usual and she didn't know how to describe it other than strange. The notes from the alchemist were neat and precise and confirmed what Lilia and her examined on the bodies earlier in the day. But that wasn't the only thing that fell from the folded piece of paper. It was another small piece with neat cursive that matched the analytics on the other page.

'Would you like to spend your day off with me?'

Yet another reason she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

. . .

After getting off from work she mentioned to her coworkers how Jade had offered her to spend her day off with him. Well they asked what she was gonna do with her day off since it was a rarity. First Cater asked her if she said yes to him yet. She said no and he understood from the get go that she was way too flustered to even respond to him. So he offered to go respond to him on her phone.

Rook congratulated her and went on a rant about love even though she tried to get through his head it wasn't a date. He asked what she would wear and she had no actual clue, in which Rook took that as an invitation to lend his aid and expertise.

He brought her to one of his friend's businesses. Cater said this place was highly recommended and that anyone whose anyone came to the place for a makeover. Specifically called Vil's beauty salon and boutique. She didn't understand how a person could have both but he seemed to be managing it fine. The said shop owner gave her one look and shook his head at her appearance.

His words were, "What a poor excuse for a girl to go on date with such a potato face such as that, it's shameful for not only you but the guy as well."

He had her try on clothes and by the end of it all, she felt different. Her head hurt from all the pulling around of her hair. She had put on enough clothes that she believed she was playing dress up. The outfit settled upon was different from her usual style and she had on makeup for the first time in her life.

Rook and Cater applauded Vil's work new appearance. The dectective had to admit that when she looked in the mirror she understood why Vil had such a reputation that Cater reccomended him highly.

She had to buy all of it of course and thanked Vil immensely for his efforts. There was actually a discount considering Rook brought her and she looked so 'pathetic'. He had a victoriously smug smile on his face and complimented his own efforts before waving the trio off. She thanked her two coworkers and bid them farewell, looking forward to the her first day off in a millennia.

When she met Jade the next day at his door he was plenty surprised by her appearance. He blushed with his eyes widened in astonishment at the change. Not to mention on the side of the manor Floyd could see just how beautiful she had dressed. It was going to be a long day especially with the heels she was wearing and trying her hardest to walk in.

. . .

The two friends went to Clover's bakery where Jade offered to pay for any sweets she wanted but it seemed they were terribly busy today and the line was a bit long not mention the place was packed inside so there weren't any tables to sit in.

Trey said it was nice to see her out and about for once not on dectective business for once. He said hello to Jade as they were all friends though she only knew Trey from Jade who introduced me. On rare occasions she would go to his bakery for something sweet. He handed them two cupcakes for free but also asked for a favor for him.

"Can you give deliever Riddle this tart please? His mother isn't home and he rarely ever gets anything sweet. I usually have Ace do it but-" He looks away for a moment.

"It's fine, Jade do you-"

"It's no trouble at all, we'd be happy to." He says with an enchanting smile on his face.

Trey handed over the box containing the tart to them and they made their way over to the clinic where Riddle resided.

On the way Jade and her conversed. She asked him why he agreed so quickly and he responded with his own unique answer.

"I know it's in your nature to help others. Yet another fond trait of yours."

It's more embarrassing hearing it for the first time and out loud no less. She could feel her face heat up again.

"Then there's when you turn into a cherry, one of my favorite traits." He said in a teasing tone with a smile toward her making the dectective flush even more and look away biting into her cupcake. To ignore the laughter emitting from her friend alongside her. Now this is the Jade she knows.

. . .

To be completely honest both of them enjoyed their time today with one another. They had delivered Riddle's tart which was almost a complete disaster.

Considering she asked Jade to be lookout in case his mother came back. Long story short she did arrive earlier than expected. After she and Riddle heard her voice outside the walls right near the entrance gate, the dectective told Riddle to go before she found him with the tart. Riddle was far more worried about her but the dectective told him she'd be fine.

By fine she meant ducking in the rose bushes for cover, there weren't any thorns surprisingly all been cut off. She waited for Riddle's mother to enter the house and had to scale the wall that was located next to an alleyway. Climbing up was the easy part but getting down was the hard part. She was wearing heels and that drop looked like she would possibly break a bone if she landed the wrong way.

She came to a decision to take a leap of fate and let her heels drop to the ground. One thought passed about Vil being pissed about her ruining them. She shook her head though and pushed herself off.

Before she could land someone else caught her. Looking up at her savior she saw the two colored eyes of Jade. Who smiled happily at making it on time.

"Ah look at that, my assumption was right. I thought you'd take this route out their place. It would've been such a shame if you were to get injured."

"Thank you Jade, can you put me down now please?"

"I don't think so I'd rather hold you like this until we get to the resturant for everyone to see." He playfully said watching her face heat up.

"Wha-? N -no I can walk on my own!"

"But you might have hurt something besides someone who can't get their words out is akin to a child so they must be coddled correct?" His teasing was endless today.

. . .

After leaving the Monstro Lounge a business run by one of Jade's friends, Azul Ashengrotto, the sun had already long set.

"Let me accompany you to your apartment, Y/n it's supposedly dangerous to be out after dark correct? Or you can just spend the night again?" He offered.

"I have to decline besides I've already used enough of your generosity I don't want to take it for granted. It's been such a great day thanks to you Jade, wish we could do these more often cept for the fact I have work tomorrow." She said in a relaxed tone.

Despite all the teasing she really did enjoy herself with the man. Having her heart beating loudly all day and having her brain short circuit was all too amusing to the man beside her, but out of everyone else even his own brother she made him feel strangely different. He couldn't explain the feeling itself, but he knew for a fact he'd never do all of this for someone he would use.

"You wish to spend more time with me? I can grant that you know." Jade had said that so simply and out of the blue but in a calm tone as well.

"There's no way you can do something like that but I appreciate the thought. It's fine though you've done enough already. I'd rather not burden you with a simple wish." She said with content.

Before he could respond to that statement fast footsteps hurried over to them both and made the pair turn around.

"I saw the killer it was Mr.Leech! He ran away from the scene!" His hair was a light green, eyes full of life and the loud tone of his voice was distinct.

"Sebek what do you mean you saw Jade kill someone he was with me the entire time!We just left the Monstro Lounge Azul saw us leave!" The dectective was defensive pertaining to justice being served, not to mention her friend was being accused and she had been with him the entirely of the day.

"No it was him I saw him Felmier was killed by him!"

"Felmier was killed?! You should've started with that! Take me to the body did you make sure he was dead?!"

. . .

Sebek had spread all about the town that Jade was the murderer even though the people who had seen us together throughout the day vouched. Trey, Riddle, Azul, Rook, and Cater even Vil had seen them together. Some actually took Sebek's words in and started to distrust Jade even so.

Vil and Rook two friends of Felmier had paid for the funeral costs as Epel's family was struggling. It was admirable to see the young man take on the vicious job as Vil's protégé. It really was a shame. Vil actually kept up a face and Rook though he looked upon the casket with blank like expression it was easy to tell he was out for blood. Jade did show up to pay his respects even though some glared at him and were suspicious.

Vil came up to dectecrive during the repass and told her to make that fool pay dearly. She would of course no argument there. Epel had been a good kid and may have been a bit brash but still good nonetheless. So was Ace.

And thus a good day ended on a sour note.

The dectective would have more sleepless nights. Lilia performed an autopsy on Epel's body with Vil standing by his side to make sure he didn't damage it. Even he was shocked to see more and more scales near his legs and gills that were more prominent.

These people were getting even more closer to there goal it seemed and she couldn't do a thing. She was so frustrated at that fact alone. Jade's analysis did help some though. Looking through shops though that sold what would be the components of the elixir nothing suspicious could be found in any of the people who had brought those items. Not to mention those who did didn't have all the items brought from another store, there was no reoccurring name in sales.

Speaking of Jade though she had begun to think back to Sebek. He wasn't the type to lie not on the name of the mysterious nobleman Malleus Draconia that he served would he ever embarrass himself to stain his name even slightly. That's what Lilia told her at least.

He said Jade had did the deed. But he was with her the entire time. Come to think Sam's description had also matched Jade's strange behavior before he gave her the analysis, but it didn't make sense. Jade was one person he couldn't be in two places at once!

Maybe someone was trying to frame him and to that extent she went to go question if he had any enemies of the sort. His response was that he didn't have any as far as he knew. That could have been a good lead.

With no others she sighed looking extremely worn out and Jade had a frown seeing her state. He insisted she stay the night and she denied saying she had to finish this case even more so now. He at least offered her a meal in which he put slipped some sleeping pills that made her fall asleep after eating.

Both pairs of two colored eyes gazed at her peaceful state not liking how she'd exhaust herself with so much work. Only for the sake of others and waste time and effort for people that isn't them. It was annoying to Floyd and agitated Jade more than he liked to admit. She did say she wanted to spend more time with them right?? If only she didn't have that stupid job. Even more a reason to push the date up to the next few days.

. . .

About a week and a half had passed and the dectective had no other leads still. It was killing her to say the least. All those unfortunate victims and those families and friends that mourned definitely weighed on her shoulders, guilt eating at her insides. Such a shame too within the end of the day she was at home taking an evening nap on her day off in which she didn't even go out today. Her phone buzzed waking her up from her slumber.

A text from Jade. It had been awhile since they last talked seeing as she fell asleep at his manor again even though she didn't intend to.

Rubbing her eyes she read the text from her bright phone screen.

'Meet me at the dock at 10 today.'

She wasn't as flustered as last time in fact she considered not going as this case took top priority. But this was Jade, her closest friend, and she hadn't taken much of a break as her nap was only 30 mintues probably the only amount of sleep she would get today if she was being honest with herself.

She reluctantly sighed and decided to get ready an hour before meeting him and walk there a bit early to have some time to her own thoughts. She thought about going to Vil's shop to buy another outfit but it would have been a waste if they were only meeting for a short time. Not to mention she didn't want Vil to come to the conclusion she was slacking off with Jade even though the bags around her eyes were very much proof.

As she sat at the edge of the dock admiring the stars the waves hitting the edge of the pier calmed her head. It was nice to say the least.

She wondered what Jade would have to talk about. She looked at her phone and saw it was 10:05, Jade being late was a surprise, hopefully if she waited a bit longer her worry would ease. That atmosphere could not have lasted any longer.

A slight wind blew and during that exact moment something pulled her under by her feet into the cold ocean waters below. She managed to hold her breath and open her eyes to see nothing but darkness even with the moon behind the clouds right about now only endless shadows were there.

She could barely hear but she could have sworn something swam by her. Arms touched her waist which almost made her scream for a moment though that was something suicidal. It touch the sides of her stomach and stayed there for a moment.

Even though she tried to struggle it was fruitless when the thing that held her tickled her sides making her open her mouth and succumb to breathing in water then choking soon after. That wasn't the only thing to occur since the next second lips were on hers and a fluid trickled down her throat along with the water that she was trying to swallow. The tongue of said thing dipped inside her mouth and would have made her gag if they hadn't pulled away.

She regretted it the moment they did cause she still could breath and with her mouth open she thought she would take her final breath. Both or what she assumes were two people backed off letting her go to meet her demise with her slowly closing her eyes. She didn't notice the glow of what transpired around her lower half of her body. She could finally take in some much needed breaths except her neck for some reason felt sore and she could no longer move her legs separately to try and swim up for air.

Looking down she saw the horrid image of a long tail with a fin on the end where her legs were supposed to be. The pain form her neck was from three newly formed slits on either side of her neck. Her fingers traced over them finding this whole situation unbelievable. When she finally came to her senses she found herself hearing voices as well.

"Shrimpy's still here! It worked, Jade!" A cheerful voice could be heard in the cold waters that surrounded her.

Something slimy wrapped about her new found lower half. Pulling her closer to be within someone's arms. They held her a bit too tight like all the air, water in her lungs could have been? Did she still even have those anymore she wondered? Even still the amount of pressure put on her by the creature hugging her was able to be felt.

He was laughing happily spinning around in circles with the former human female getting dizzy by the second.

"I can see that Floyd. How wonderful, but do take it down a notch she only was just turned after all." That voice was all too familiar. She couldn't help but say it aloud, but that couldn't be true.

"Jade?" Her voice was a whisper but of course he still heard it.

"Yes, my dear angelfish what is it?" He responded in an endearing tone that was calm despite the situation she was just put through.

She glanced toward the voice to see what appeared to be a creature similar to that of an eel by the tail. Her eyes trailed up to the sight of his face. It was him no doubt about it. The eyes were exact and so was the hair the only difference was the body and skin.

"Aw Shrimpy why'd you acknowledge him first? I'm here too." A voice whined in a more child like tone directly in her ear. It brought a shiver down her spine.

'Shrimpy?' That was unmistakably the nickname Jade gave her when he acted weird.

She turned toward his way and saw a sharp toothed grin on his face when she looked at him.

"Floyd you haven't even introduced yourself." Jade sounded like his normal self and this Floyd person was just the complete opposite of him.

"Oh right Shrimpy I'm Floyd, Jade's brother and your going to be with us in the sea from now on! Isn't that great? I can't wait to show you all my favorite places you'll love it!" He sounded so excited while dread built up in the mermaid.

"What do you mean stay here?! What have you done to me? Who, what even are you two?!" She said those words with malice laced into them having them both chuckle in response.

Jade had also wrapped his tail about her upper half restraining her further. He brought himself closer to her face, a smirk etched on to it.

"My, my, Y/n you did say you wanted to spend more time with me, isn't this what you wanted?" He tilted her chin up showing a sadistic smile on his face that only built up even more dread than what his brother had already.

"I didn't realize or expected anything like this and you know that! Why would you do this?! You! You-" She thought for a second processing all that had occurred the past couple of weeks.

"You killed them you gave them that exlixir that ended their lives. Every single one of them." This time it was the other brother's turn to speak.

"There's our little dectective she's so smart!~" Floyd just made her completely uncomfortable with how he would call her that nickname and whisper words in her ear.

"Why? Why would you do this?" She became defeated knowing turf like this was theirs and she stood no chance against them in the first place.

"Eh why? Is Shrimpy really that blind Jade?" Floyd mocked her with no remorse as tears streamed down the dectective's eyes at the thought of letting so many people down.

"Why? My dear angelfish haven't you noticed? We've become quite enamored with you. Hm no better word to put it is obsessed, at first it was just me but with Floyd's impatience I just had to get him in on understanding why we didn't go back home already. As for those people they were necessary for testing the elixir for this very moment. We couldn't have you dying on us afterall." He said with absolute calmness evoking rage within the mermaid.

She clenched her fists.

"So many were sacrificed, I should've died, instead." She murmured the last half but both the twin eels heard it.

There expressions turned dark and their tails gripped the female tighter startling her from her state of guilt.

"Eh, why would you say that Shrimpy, we can't have you leaving us. We finally got you all to ourselves and I haven't had much time with you, and yet you say you want to leave." Floyd's arms contracted her more than Jade's tail already, now she understood what it must have felt like for Trappola.

"He is right Y/n dear, we only want what's best for you and having you say that only makes our blood boil so please understand." Jade gripped her chin with a scary amount of strength. This was the first time he ever seemed so much more intimidating to her.

"Don't ever say something like that again am I clear?"

From that point on she was stuck between the twin eels who loved her so. She only wished she could have been able to listen to Sebek when he said the truth. Mr. Leech did do it just not the one she thought.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #floyd leech #jade leech #yandere floyd leech #yandere jade leech #yandere twst #yandere tweels

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

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The Sheriff and the Murderer

Part Three

Previous Parts | Part One | Part Two

Series Masterlist

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Summary | one of the many things that you had never had the chance of doing was disposing of a body; luckily for you, you know just the right person who can tend to your aid.

Warnings | mentions of death, disposing of a body, mentions and aftermath of murder, mentions of rape, mentions of sex, swearing, mention of suicide

The smell of the carcass had your nose turning up, and the sight wasn’t much better. There was blood staining your lovely dress, that Lee had taken off hours prior. Now it was ruined, with the red digress of your husband; he always had to taint everything, and it still appeared to apply despite him being deceased.

Your eyes wallowed with water, as you thought of the mistakes you had made. There were so many, and marrying Simon had been of the greatest, considering that his treatment of you had been beyond disgraceful. And now, the red of his departed insides was sticking beneath his nails, causing you to gag.

This part, the slashing and ripping apart of his limbs, using your trusty shovel, had been worse than actually committing the initial crime. Killing him had been bliss, but this, reminded you of the possible consequences that you would be forced to partake in.

“Oh no.” You heaved, feeling nauseous from the pungent aroma, grasping at the top of your chest in sickness. You dropped his hand, that felt ironically lighter now that he was dead, letting it fall with the other parts of his distorted, and broken, body.

The worst part of all was, now that you had control of where his palms were permitted to go, and the power had you feeling complete. It had you basking in your own glory, but now, you were lost, grieving the path that you had lost regarding the man that you truly were infatuated with.

Walking backwards, and closing the shed door, you abandoned the sections of Simon, hurrying back into your empty home, and going towards your lined phone. Without caring about the prints of blood that you were padding onto the numerical keys, you dialled a woman that you knew to be in the business of cold body abandon.

For a minute, the line rang, leaving you antsy and picking at your stained nails, chipping away at the surrounding skin. All you could smell was the reminder of blood, that smothered you in a hermit of remembrance.

A remembrance of the times that he would splatter your body with his self, claiming that you were his wife, and even bragging about it to the fellas that he worked closely with. But you were nothing more than a shadow in his eyes, a prize that followed him around the house, flaunting her terrified doe eyes at his silhouette.

His greatest flaw was, aside from his poisonous and lingering touch, that smothered you in the cruelest of ways, was that he thought he was aware of everything that went on around him. It was as though he thought he were the sheriff...

But behind his turned back, your shadow would dance with the image of Lee Bodecker, in a private and disclosed matter. He was the true sheriff of the town, the wine who could order you to do anything, and you would wilfully comply.

Lee had, and never would hurt you. That was the definite difference between the polar pair. He was a lovely gentleman, and Simon, well, he was more like a rat swimming out of the sewer.

All these thoughts and actions of adultery were fair play, you slept with Lee behind the now scathed and chopped up back of your husband, whilst he bedded as many women that were actually willing to slumber with.

You were not dumb to his pattern, each night when he went out, he was pursuing a dame, but that never bothered you, because while he was out, the sheriff would make a stop, and check you over, in more ways than one.

Finally, you running with your thoughts was disrupted, for the ringing ceased. A upbeat and facade of a ‘hello’ rang though your ears, making you breathe a much deserved intake of relief.

“Hey Sandy.” You replied, holding the phone aggressively against your ear. Anything she had to say, you were willing to listen to, after all, she was a master in the ways of murder, as you knew and were trusted peculiarly with that detail of secrecy. “I need your help.”

The sound of Simon’s body parts beating around the trunk as sandy surpassed over a bump in the road reverberated through the entire vehicle. It soothed the initial silence that was exhibited in it, and nervously, you licked your thin lips, hoping that you would reach the ‘middle of nowhere’ soon.

It wasn’t that you and Sandy didn’t get along, in fact, you got along great, which was one of the reasons that she insisted to husband Carl that they leave you alive. But it was the fact that there was an unspoken gesture that waded through the air, like a muting toxin.

“Does Lee know?” She asked, finally breaking the silence like ice. It was a relief to hear voice, deep down, you were insecure that she was silently judging you for the entire ride, or at least, how far you had gone so far.

“No, and I intend for it to have a cap kept on it.” You slunk your shoulders, whilst thinking of Sandy’s sibling. He was far too good for you, he was the sheriff, and now, you deemed yourself as nothing more than a murderer.

The fact that you were a survivor of all sorts of horrid extremes wouldn’t matter to the boys in blue, they would not see you past your crime, and you feared that sheriff Bodecker would not either.

“Son of a bitch had it coming to him anyways.” Stated Sandy, being heartless to her admission. “The sight of you and that prick drove my brother insane. We all knew what he was doing to you, yet, they wouldn’t charge him, all because you were simply married to him.”

“What would you have done if Carl had dared lay his hands on you in an in-consensual manner?” You asked, plucking away at the trim of your clean skirt. Before you had left to go on this joyous trip with Sandy, you had changed, all in favour of the neighbours, and anyone else you happened to pass.

“I’d have done the same darling.” She comforted you, looking away from the road for a moment, to send you a quick and sincere smile. Things within the car were falling into their previous rhythm, it being apparent that the two of you were good and well adversed friends. “I wanted to kill Simon too, you know? But with the threats I have made in the past, it would have been far too suspicious.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, suddenly feeling guilty that if it were found to be known that Simon was butchered, Sandy would be interrogated, most likely from her own brother. “How is Carl?” You changed the subject, shifting under the grip of the seat belt.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you how my lovesick brother is?” She replied, laughing lightly at your warm face. “He’s still head over heels for you girl, and yet, the other man won your heart.”

“I wouldn’t say won it, I’d say he manipulated it.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest to pave down the swell of tension inside. “I’d always told myself, and you, that I’d choose Lee Lee, but high school was a long time ago, and I can’t go back to sneaking kisses with him under the bleachers when your back was turned.”

“Trust me, I knew all along.” She smiled, thinking back to the simpler times. “And though, I know when he was training to be a deputy, he’d told you he had no time for a relationship, and he didn’t exactly expect you to wait for him. But you may as well have, considering the two of you continued to fornicate like wild rabbits.”

“Please stop.” You groaned at her words, covering your face with your clear and evidence free hands. “And we did not fornicate like-“

“My bedroom was right beside yours when we got that apartment, and before then, well it was against Lee’s. Trust me, when I say that I know off by heart how you sound in bed sweetie. And god, did I grimace as I heard you mewling my brother’s name.”

Breathily you laughed, thinking back to the times that were spoke of. “Sandy.” You spoke her name, earning a radical hum in reply. “I love Lee.”

“Trust me darling, I am well aware of that. The two of you are like Romeo and Juliet, except you’ve killed someone else rather than taken your own life. And then, there’s never been anything holding the two of you apart-“

“Okay, you’re trying to make a point here Sand. Nothing like Romeo and Juliet, I got it.” You nodded your head, before leaning it back into the plumpness of the head rest. “And then there’s you and Carl, Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Sweetie, you’re a killer too now, so I wouldn’t make comparisons. You’re just lucky that the first suspect for Simon’s disappearance will be a man, and then we’ll see where I am on that list. And you know me, I will always protect you, it’s what we do.”

“It is what we do.” You repeated, watching the road ahead, and tapping your feet in tune with the floundering of Simon’s own rolling feet.

Tags;

@charmed-asylum @brynthebulldozer @tcc-gizmachine @stucky-my-ship @acciosiriusblack

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thanksjro · 4 years ago

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More Than Meets the Eye #31 - Ammo and the Anti-Glowup

So, the Lost Light disappeared, stranding all the crew in space in their little escape pods. 200-some robots just lost their homes and worldly possessions. That’s absolutely horrible. What a devastating thing to happen.

Anyway, here’s Drift with a flashback sequence.

No hips, fingers all the exact same length, hockey pucks embedded in his forearms- Rojo, this is a crime you’ve committed. When will the long arm of the law stop your sinful, pancake-shaped hands?

About two years prior to current events, Drift, Riptide, and Pipes- yes, Pipes!- were wandering around trying to find a ship for the space yacht trip. The gang’s here to see who owns the big honkin’ ship outside. Problem is, Drift is unintentionally terrifying because he has a great deal of swords.

Now, you may say to yourself “isn’t it a bit odd that the species that has members who literally turn into guns would be nervous around a guy with swords?” This is a valid critique, until you remember that at least some of the folks who turn into guns were born that way, and Drift was very much NOT born bladed the fuck out. There’s an entire miniseries devoted to explaining this, it’s called Drift. The swords are a choice, one that he makes every day.

Drift is willing to pay an honestly absurd amount of money for the ship, if he can just find the dude with the paperwork- don’t ask where he got the money. Pipes isn’t being terribly helpful in finding them, so Riptide decides that now is the time to start practicing being proactive and pulls a Coyote Ugly.

No, no, he doesn’t.

He does climb up on a table and start yelling for the ship’s owners to reveal themselves, though. Which they do.

Now it’s time for the world-building portion of our comic issue. Let’s learn about chirolinguistics.

Drift, staying true to his Mary Sue nature, uses his near-perfect Hand skills to strike up a deal with the owners of the ship. This would be impressive, if it didn’t just look like the most convoluted hand-holding session in the friggin’ universe.

Still, Drift is rich enough to make Jeff Bezos weep with envy, so the arrangements are made and the lads go on their way, talking some mad shit about the original name of the ship as they do.

So it is revealed to us that the Lost Light is named after a festival for honoring the dead and disappeared, which makes the fact that Rewind and Chromedome were there all the more sad.

Back in the present, Megatron tells Riptide to shut up so they can figure out what the hell they’re going to do about this whole “our home and also ride has ceased to exist” situation. He’s putting an awful lot of distance between himself and the rest of the Autobots as he does it, something that isn’t lost on the more bitter people of the crowd.

But why were we even talking about the Lost Light in the first place? Not to reminisce, believe it or not. See, it’s time for Nautica to get a little panel time, and she’s going to use it to be a massive fucking nerd and explain how the quantum engines work. As she does, Ratchet notes that his hands feel funny. Must be the weight of his hand-stealing sins manifesting itself in his joints.

Nautica explains that the engines run off of improbability- it is highly unlikely, but not impossible, that the ship can reach light speed, and riding the fine line between what can happen and what can’t, results in the creation of power for the engines. If this sounds familiar, it’s because Brainstorm gave us a watered down version of this explanation back in issue #2. If it sounds familiar for a different reason, it’s because this is how the Heart of Gold runs in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Again, I’m not sure why it is that the British love this concept so much, but there you are.

Oh, it appears someone has a question. Let’s see what they want to know about, shall we?

…Rojo, what the fuck is this.

Our muppety friend here isn’t too keen on how much of a smarmy asshole Nightbeat is being right now, though I’d assume it actually has something to do with the fact that Nightbeat got smacked around with the pretty-boy stick while Getaway very much did not. While the two bicker- there’s a lot of bickering in Season Two- Nautica presents a theory on what happened to the ship; it went too far in the direction of “can’t” and made itself cease to be.

Megatron gives not a shit about quantum improbability, though. He only cares about how they’re going to get out of this mess. Which, y’know. Valid.

Blaster picks up a radio from Rodimus, who tells the gang that they’re to meet up on a nearby planet to regroup and figure out their next move. The call drops before he can get more than a couple Megatron-directed insults in, however. Megatron, in response, tries to be the bigger person, and almost immediately fails. We do get a headcount though, which is good, logistically speaking. This information is communicated to us by way of a splash page full of character head shots. We’ve got 20 ‘bots on board this ship.

Yep. 20. No more, no less.

As our friends approach the planet, we’re informed that it’s actually a Lectureworld- a planet devoted to the study of a single field. Except it’s actually a Smartplanet now, and it’s been privatized by the Galactic Council, so you’ve got to pay to go there. Cyclonus thinks that that’s bullshit, and I can’t help but agree. Crosscut tries to network with they guy about his play, probably because word got around that Cyclonus is rich as hell, when the lights cut out. When they come back on, Crosscut is nowhere to be found.

It’s time for a Whodunnit.

Tailgate immediately pegs Megatron as the culprit in this disappearance, and breaks out a gun over the matter. Megatron thinks that this is absolutely adorable, which only serves to further infuriate our marshmallow friend. I guess he’s still mad about the whole “I was a Decepticon for five minutes and got brainwashed over it” thing, and wants someone to pin the anger on who’s socially acceptable to hate.

Cyclonus and Ratchet both think that Tailgate’s not going about this the right way, but the guy is simply too het up to listen to them. Tailgate suggests that they lock Megatron in the engine room for the time being and-

OKAY WHO LET HIM HAVE THAT

Riptide breaks out his gun, and soon we’ve got a standoff going between the three of them. Cyclonus tries to deescalate, which makes Gears and Huffer break out their guns. Then Hound breaks out his gun, though he seems to be doing his own thing, by pointing it in Nautica’s direction.

Broski, I think that might be animal cruelty.

Megatron manages to shoot Ravage “unconscious” and catches him by the friggin’ throat, stating that he has zero idea how this guy got here. With the heat off the two of them for a moment, Megatron communicates to Ravage to play ‘possum for the time being. Ravage responds, and I wonder exactly how he’s doing that, considering I don’t think he has enough fingers to effectively utilize Hand as a language. Or fingers at all, really.

While this is going on, Cyclonus snatches the gun out of Tailgate’s hand, admonishing him for being reckless about picking his fights. Generally speaking, you don’t want to try to go toe-to-toe with a guy who’s responsible for the deaths of literal billions. Getaway swoops in to comfort Tailgate, calling him gutsy. I wonder if this will become a trend.

Swerve says a thing, as he is wont to do, and it’s made known that multiple folks have disappeared during this incredibly brief standoff.

Wow, Chromedome just fucked off, huh? He wasn’t even in that sequence, just left.

Everyone’s positively baffled by the current happenings. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to who’s being taken. I guess we’ve got a mystery on our hands.

And who better to solve a mystery than a detective?

Nightbeat wrangles all the leftover folks into a corner of the room, so they can figure out what the common denominator is with all the disappearees. He starts with the easy stuff.

And by “easy”, I mean the super-special racism Tyrest subscribed to.

If you’ve read Eugenesis, you know that Nightbeat was also part of the first wave of cold-constructed bodies there. However, the general populace wasn’t nearly as chill about it as they were in IDW. Also, Wheeljack was his dad. No word on if that particular tidbit made it into IDW lore.

It’s at this point that we learn about M.T.O.s- made to order soldiers. They were cold-constructed ‘bots created en masse during the war in order to keep up with the demands for troops. Pretty fucked up, if you think about it, being born to die like that.

Now where have we heard that name before…

Chromedome, can your love life not be part of the plot for five minutes, my guy?

Nautica makes the honestly horrific claim that a lot of folks owe their existence to Megatron being a warmongering fuck, and even Megatron himself seems rather uncomfortable with the idea. Some thoughts we keep to ourselves, Nautica, even if they might be technically true. And even if Ammo wants to tack on his two cents on the matter.

What did they DO to you, Ammo? You’re supposed to be hot! Where are my three-paragraphs of description as Hound stares slack jawed the entire time? I miss Polyhex Wars.

Anyway, it’s Megatron’s turn to get poked with the questioning stick, and he’s not having it. He claims that by revealing his mode of creation, he’s risking a repeat of Functionist ideology. This would be valid, if people weren’t literally disappearing without any sort of explanation as to why. As it is, he’s being a stubborn asshole, but I guess he didn’t get his reputation by being a decent person who knew when to back down, now did he?

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers he knows all the info Nightbeat’s looking for, and the conversation on Megatron’s birth is shelved for another day. I’m sure it won’t be a major plot point later, not in the slightest.

As it turns out, Nightbeat’s theory doesn’t hold water, and folks are still popping out of existence. We get another splash page, this time with everyone’s mode of creation listed under their names, and we move on to other theories about what the fuck is going on. While Nightbeat has a minor crisis over what the answer could possibly be, the MTOs in the group reminisce on the Ten-Step Program, a series of tests they were put through to make sure they worked well enough to get handed a gun and shoved out the door. Riptide wasn’t a fan.

Riptide has more wood panelling than a 70’s-style ranch house, and I think that’s very brave of him.

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers it’s been quite a bit since he last shat on religion, and takes the time to do so while informing the reader about Information Creep. This is a concept we’ve seen mentioned previously, during Chromedome’s runaround in Overlord’s brain, but it’s here where we get the juicy implications.

Because memories can become corrupted in the brain due to extreme age, what ought to be objective fact has to be reinterpreted due to missing pieces. This is why nobody knows what the Knights of Cybertron got up to, or if they’re even actually real at all.

The lights go out again, and when they cut back on, Cyclonus is missing, leaving only his sword behind. Tailgate is extremely distraught by this, but Nightbeat gives not a fuck about Tailgate’s impending breakdown. He only cares about the truth!

And then a giant eyeball shows up.

It’s Ultra Magnus, coming to us live from his shuttle, via holomatter avatar! He shrinks down to a far more reasonable size, in a panel reminiscent of the first time IDW readers saw Megatron.

Don’t get me wrong, this is a neat parallel, I’m just… not terribly sure why it’s happening. One could say it reflects a reversal in power dynamics, but that theory gets tossed out the window when you remember that this isn’t actually Verity. I suppose it’s just a cool little thing.

Because the comms aren’t working, Ultra Magnus has been forced to use this avatar to communicate with the folks in the Rod Pod. Megatron asks just what the hell is going on, but unfortunately Magnus isn’t sure either. Then his shuttle disappears, and it’s bye-bye grunge girl Magnus.

It’s at this point that Nightbeat decides it’s time to stop pussyfooting around and get serious. He tells Ratchet to throw HIPPA directly in the garbage and write down everything he knows about the Autobots who crewed the Lost Light. And he does mean everything, as we get the splash page again, this time with lots of neat info on our friends, including spark type.

Spark types will become plot-relevant in the storyline after this, but for now let’s focus on some weird gender essentialism that got slapped into the first print of this issue.

As we know very well by this point, Transformers as a franchise has a tumultuous relationship with the idea of women existing. You would think that the awkward introduction of other genders we got in “Dark Cybertron” would have been the end of things being weird in IDW. However, you would be wrong.

In an effort to explain why genders exist, Roberts had the idea to make it spark-based. Nautica, in the solo print of this issue, has an estriol-positive spark. Estriol is a type of estrogen, which is the hormone that develops and maintains feminine secondary sex characteristics, when present in certain levels, in conjunction with other hormones. Biology

This “spark = gender” idea is, generally speaking, not a great idea to be presenting us with, especially when the writer is a cishet male, because it implies biological essentialism- the idea that a personality trait/quality of a person is innate and predetermined by their biology, as opposed to social, cultural, or individual experiences. Because this story doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s irresponsible to reduce the experience of being a woman to a single, physical, unchangable asset, especially when all other assets of the same class have zero effect on one’s gender identity. You don’t exactly see many nonbinary robots running around, now do you? And there are definitely more than two spark types, despite the Transformers as a species being... very binary.

It also makes female Transformers into an “other”, which is a problem that has existed from the very start of the franchise, in some form or fashion, and really doesn’t need to be perpetrated anymore than it already is.

The estriol spark type was removed in the trade edition, and Roberts has expressed regrets over its inclusion, having realized that it was potentially offensive.

Getting back to the story, Swerve, Tailgate, and Ratchet have disappeared, though Ratchet seems to have left his hands behind. His stolen, Pharma-original hands.

That’s still fucked up to me. I don’t think it’ll ever not be fucked up.

Riptide reveals the reason that he wasn’t in Season One of MTMTE was because when he went back to grab a receipt for the ship two years prior, he’d discovered that the original owners were worshipers of Mortilus, Cybertronian god of death, and knew about the nasty little problem that was the sparkeater from the first storyline. When Riptide went to confront them about it, they beat him up so bad he was unconscious for two solid days.

Which is a long-ass time to be unconscious. That might have been a coma, Riptide. Jesus, I hope someone got him to a hospital after this beatdown happened, or at least scraped him off the floor.

With this last piece of the puzzle, we finally have the common denominator in this big ol’ mystery. Everyone who disappeared was on the Lost Light when it took off from Cybertron in issue #1, and everyone left behind- Skids, Getaway, Nightbeat, Nautica, Megatron, and Ravage- didn’t join until afterwords.

Of course, having the answer doesn’t do us much good when everyone is still missing, and Megatron seems to agree with me, because he’s about to throw hands, when Nautica lets them know that they’ve arrived at the rendezvous. Problem is, so has something else.

...

I’m sure it’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiine!

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #issue 31 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #incoming analysis #overthinking about robots #comic script writing

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n1kolaiz · 4 years ago

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ENTJ + INFJ DYNAMIC

BSD MANGA CHAPTER 54-57 SPOILERS

Chapter 54 introduced Mushitaro Oguri, and his background involving Yokomizo was ever so intriguing to me. So unfortunately, here I am.

Mushitaro and Yokomizo's dynamic:

The 'Commander' meets the 'Idealist.'

Alright, I won't go into the details about the case of Yokomizo's death, because there's no way in hell I can explain it fluently at all. So if you need further reference to what these few chapters are about, popopretty's post would elaborate on the details and whatnot.

Before I start, here's a bit of little introduction to both individual characters:

MUSHITARO OGURI

Mushitaro appears to take a lot of pride in his ability, which contributes to his arrogant complex altogether. He had his own desires and goals, and lived out his days just to fulfil them.

His ability is called the 'Perfect Crime,' which allows him to erase any trail of evidence pertaining to whatever crime he had committed. Hence, he is also known as the 'infallible Detective-killer.'

Until Ranpo proved him wrongヾ(❀╹◡╹)ﾉﾞ

His personality type is most likely 'ENTJ,' the 'Commander.'

- ENTJs are known to have exceptional leadership skills. They are confident in themselves and what they do; basically, they don't have the tendency to second-guess what they are capable of. This explains Mushitaro's ambition to achieve his ends, and his ability goes the extra mile of complimenting his success rate greatly. Whether his motives or the end results were morally good or evil, it didn't matter to Mushitaro— as long as his wishes were fulfilled.

"With tyrants and demons, I'll make deal with a demon. That's in my nature."

- They're also quite outspoken with their opinions. It's a fairly minor detail, but this shows why he wasn't afraid to express the distaste he had for mystery novels to Yokomizo— including the extravagant ideas and serpentine stories his close friend based his life upon and discussed with him.

- The subtle insensitivity mixed in with an ENTJ's preference of logic over emotion highlights one of their core weaknesses: which brings us back to Mushitaro's ability to kill his friend. Say you were to put a person with a deeply compassionate heart, who's also very well in-tact when it comes to identifying emotions and being empathetical to other's feelings: would that person be able to kill a friend they'd known for so long? For the sole reason of making his last mystery novel a deathless enigma? This is very subjective perspective, but I believe that if Mushitaro was more of an emotionalist rather than a strategist, things would have turned out different for Yokomizo's eventual fate.

Side note: His insensitivity did, however, find its limit when he realised how devastating it was to have killed his own friend with his hands. Even though there's a wide scale that measures how insensitive a person can be, they are, in fact, still human beings capable of feeling. Killing someone dear to you is no easy task; there is a breaking point for the hardest of hearts.

SEISHI YOKOMIZO

Yokimozo, also known as Kindaichi, was a mystery writer who was very particular about detail and being exclusive, especially when it came to his works. His last wish he pursued to achieve before a terminal illness took his life was done by formulating a 'mystery that transcended reality.'

"I hate regret. So I've done whatever I've wanted to do. Up until now, it's been a satisfying life. But now… I've been given a time limit…Before then, I have to complete the ultimate mystery."

His personality type is identified as 'INFJ,' also known as the 'Idealist.'

- INFJ's are deeply creative and artistic, but they express it in various different ways. For Yokomizo, he portrayed his brilliant artistic skill through his writings revolving around mysteries and their compelling depths. The fictional character's namesake was also a mystery novel writer. Yokomizo was pretty well-versed with how mysteries worked and how their details ravelled themselves into elegantly, well-established riddles, which only added to his natural flair of writing.

- Generally, INFJs are reserved, but incredibly idealistic. Yokomizo was seen to be very abstract in his idea of thinking, and this is due to the fact that INFJs have a thing for pondering about life and the meaning behind everything.

"Mushi-kun, I bet you're laughing at me for destroying myself for the sake of mystery. But if that's the case, maybe there's no such thing as unshakable values. Maybe it's up to us to decide what to put value in and what to live for. After all, we have the right to turn our own decisions into our entire world. It is, foolishly enough, the greatest luxury afforded to mankind."

- As for their weaknesses, some INFJs are very hard to get to know. They are mysterious at times, which prevents them from being flamboyant with their thoughts and opinions. Yokomizo had a very lighthearted, mystifying nature, which made him a very interesting character altogether. Despite having a high regard for their intimate relationships— INFJs can be quite private. Mushitaro vaguely points out his self-contained, introverted mannerisms in this panel:

Now, I'll get to my point.

ENTJs and INFJs don't ideally match up, but when it comes to general friendships, there are a few details that suggest an accomodating dynamic between the two personality types. These qualities emanate from Mushitaro and Yokomizo's friendship with each other.

Opposites attract in most cases, correct?

Well, in this case, ENTJs and INFJs have a lot of similarities:

intelligent

intuitive in thinking

determined

goal-oriented

But the more numerable contrasting qualities is what really brings out the agreeable traits between Mushitaro and Yokozimo. Think of it as a system where two opposites mutually keep each other in check:

1. Mushitaro bases his life on the gaining his own needs and wants, and is very firm in his sense of realism, while Yokomizo is more focused on the deep, complexities of life itself. This may come off as impractical to ENTJs, but also compliments their coordination with INFJs. Realism limits idealism, but idealists can also expand the boundaries realists place themselves in.

2. INFJs accept people and ideas as they are, not willing to put others down just to prove themselves right. Yokozimo's tolerant behaviour stands in contrast with how authoritative Mushitaro is, especially when it boils down to his arrogance— he isn't afraid to spit his pride right into his opponent's face.

Kneel, detectives! I am the king of crime! No one can force me to sin and repent!

Just for laughs reference^

So it's safe to say that because Yokomizo had an acquired sense of serenity and open-mindedness, he was able to tolerate Mushitaro's extravagant, subtle histrionic characteristics, which were laced with his superior complex.

3. In the manga, Yokomizo speaks and converses with Mushitaro in a way that suggests that he is careful with his words. INFJs are gentle and generally sensitive to the needs of others, so they tend to be careful with what comes out of their mouths. Mushitaro, like most ENTJs, are quite blunt. This points back to how insensitive they come off, even if they don't actually mean it. So when it comes to Yokozimo explaining tales of mystery to Mushitaro, Mushitaro doesn't hesitate to mock Yokozimo; but because of how understanding Yokozimo is, he doesn't take Mushitaro's opinions too seriously to the point of discounting the value of their friendship, because he knew Mushitaro didn't use his words with the intention to harm.

If you were to place a more dominant persona in Yokomizo's position, I doubt that that person would be able to tolerate such behaviours. Then again, this is crucially subjective.

I suppose the main thing I wanted to point out was how ENTJs and INFJs balanced each other out by cancelling out each other's extreme traits, and keeping each other in the middle of the equilibrium altogether. But another thing I'd like to point out to sum up Mushitaro and Yokozimo's relationship was this: the fact that Mushitaro had to kill his own friend to grant his dying wish. Dying for someone or by someone's hands is easier than killing someone, especially if that someone is dear to you, no? I guess that's the part I can't fathom— it was the type of relationship that stood out way more than I had expected. Say, the roles were switched, would Yokomizo actually kill Mushitaro? Or would Mushitaro think of such an incomprehensible way to die in the first place? Or what if these two friends had different, more superior traits that coexisted in conflict all the time, would Yokomizo even depend on Mushitaro with such a task?

The speculations are endless, or maybe it's pretty straightforward. Though, I hope this made sense.

Okay, I'm done rambling for now. Thank you for reading!

#bsd #bsd analysis #bsd characters #bungou stray dogs #bsd spoilers #bsd manga #bsd mushitaro #bsd decay of angels #decay of angels #rats in the house of the dead #.daydreams

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stagandsteer · 3 years ago

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Complete transcript of the Wonderland interview, by Catherine Santino, below the cut :)

In 1993, the year in which Freeform’s new thriller series Cruel Summer opens, actor Froy Gutierrez was yet to be born. Chat rooms and beepers, just two of the symbols of 90’s culture featured in the show, were absent in Gutierrez's own childhood. Instead, the 22 year old grew up among the endless, glowing feeds of social media — and the inevitable pressures that they create.

“There’s a kind of self-awareness that comes from growing up with the internet, which everyone in our cast did,” Gutierrez, who stars in the upcoming series, tells me over Zoom — his boyish charm tangible across the screen. “We’re all technically Gen Z or like, older Gen Z. And so you have to unburden yourself from curating a persona online.”

Due to the dizzying evolution of technology in the past two decades, Gutierrez and I had drastically different experiences with the internet growing up — even though he’s only seven years my junior. I fondly remember a time without the prevalence of social media, while Gutierrez was born into an era where internet presence was not only common, but expected.

Like most of Gutierrez’s peers, the actor was active on social media from a young age, but his presence has quietened over the years — even with 1.7 million instagram followers. “If there’s a general consensus on the internet of a certain readership or viewership, you know about it, because people tweet about it directly to you,'' he says. “There’s a kind of lumping in of the character you’re playing with who you are, that people do. I don’t know if it’s intentional. It’s probably just a human thing, but that happens. And it can be hard not to internalize what you read about yourself, you know? Words have power.”

In 2017, Gutierrez appeared on supernatural MTV drama Teen Wolf, a show with a massive internet fandom. Suddenly, fan theories and commentaries about his character, Nolan Holloway, came in droves, something that the young actor wasn’t necessarily prepared for. “I was still a teenager,” he says. “Around that time, you're an adult, but you’re still figuring things out. So I learned where to set my boundaries because I didn’t know where they were beforehand.”

When Cruel Summer came around, Gutierrez assumed he would be portraying the “desirable young male” he was used to auditioning for. “The first time I read the character, it definitely felt like an archetype. When I auditioned for it, I walked in and was very much myself, and Michelle Purple and Jessica Biel responded very well to it.” However, after he got the role and production ramped up, he was pleasantly surprised. “It didn’t really hit me that they were wanting to take him in such a unique direction until I showed up for wardrobe one day to do my first fitting for the pilot,” Gutierrez recalls. “I looked at the mood board for Jamie and it was like, young Heath Ledger, Keanu Reeves and Kurt Cobain. And I was like ‘Oh shit, I need to step my game up,’” he laughs. “I couldn’t get by doing the same thing that I’ve always done when it comes to characters like that.”

Cruel Summer takes place over the course of three years — ‘93, ‘94, and ‘95 — showing splices of each year in every episode. Produced by Jessica Biel, Tia Napolitano, and Michelle Purple, it centres around the kidnapping of a teenage girl and the fallout of the crime in her community in Skylin, Texas. Gutierrez plays Jamie Henson, the boyfriend of the missing girl, Kate. In her absence, a quiet nerd named Jeanette suddenly rises the social ranks and assumes Kate’s place — including dating Jamie. When Kate returns, Jeanette is suspected to be involved in her disappearance, throwing Jamie into some seriously challenging circumstances. His character could easily be a one-dimensional archetype — and truthfully, I expected him to be — but Cruel Summer took the opportunity to explore toxic masculinity and its widespread impact.

We see Jamie caught in the middle of conflict, unsure how to respond to a traumatic event that certainly no teenager expects to be faced with. He’s not a hero, but he’s not a villain either. It’s unclear whether we’re supposed to root for Jamie or not, which makes him that much more interesting to watch. “He talks a lot about his desire to protect the people around him, regardless of whether or not they asked him to protect them,” Gutierrez says of his character. “He kind of superimposes his own idea of what the people around him need. In order to maintain the peace of the people around him, he kind of robs the people around him of their agency. It’s just a really fascinating character to play in that way.”

Gutierrez has also been able to explore the ethics of true crime in a time when the genre is exploding in popularity. Though Cruel Summer is fictional, it questions the effect that public opinion can have on criminal cases — and perhaps more importantly — the well-being of the people involved. “When it comes to the investigation of a crime, you have to weigh the good it can bring into the world versus the bad it can bring. Or making one person seem suspect, or airing the dirty laundry of a private citizen for the viewership of loads of people.”

Despite his eloquent reflections on Jamie throughout our conversation, it’s clear that Gutierrez doesn’t take himself too seriously. He speaks into the camera like we’re old friends on FaceTime, and when my dog unexpectedly jumps into my frame, he gushes excitedly and asks what her name is. He’s able to laugh at himself one minute and share poignant truths the next. It’s refreshing, much like Cruel Summer.

Another likely contributor to the show’s authenticity? The fact that the cast was kept in the dark when it came to overarching plot points. Instead of knowing the show’s trajectory ahead of time, the actors would receive scripts for the next episode while they were filming — and they were subject to change. “We didn’t know where it was going,” Gutierrez says. “And we were told, “‘This might happen here, or this might happen there.’ And it would shift around.”

Without foresight into their character’s arc, the actors have no choice but to focus only on where they were in that moment — a difficult task when a single episode spans three very different years. Gutierrez faced an even greater challenge, as, unlike the two female leads, his character didn’t undergo any drastic physical transformations over the three years.

“I didn’t really compartmentalise the character,” he explains. “I kind of thought of the different years as different phases in my own life. The first year, ‘93, was a complete absence of any regret. You’re still very young, I was just thinking of like, a complete golden retriever,” he laughs. “A 16-year old boy who just wants the best and isn’t aware. ‘94 is me right before I made the decision to go to therapy, where I was making all these bad decisions and I didn’t know why. And then ‘95 was a whole desire to wrestle with those things and really look at yourself in the mirror and take accountability.”

Gutierrez didn’t only infuse personal experience into his behind-the-scenes work — some aspects made it onto the screen. The actor, whose father is Mexican, grew up spending time between Mexico and Texas and is a native Spanish speaker. Because Cruel Summer is set in Texas, Gutierrez suggested creating a similar background for Jamie.

“I was talking with Tia Napolitano, the show-runner, and I was like, ‘Hey, you know what would be really cool? What if the character is half-Mexican, too?’” Gutierrez says. “And she's like, ‘Oh, yeah, let’s write it in the script.’ And I got to write a couple lines in Spanish, which is really cool. [Jamie] could have been this mould of a cool, likeable jock. And then he ended up being this very nuanced human being, which is awesome.”

Though he is learning to appreciate all parts of his heritage, Gutierrez hasn’t always embraced his identity. “I remember feeling like I might have been not American enough for America, and not Mexican enough for Mexico,” he says. “And I remember having a bit of time in which I had an accent in both languages. Even my name — in Mexico I always went by ‘Froylan’, which is my full name. And then in the U.S., I went by Froy, because I thought it would be easier for other people to say.”

He continues: “I identify as Latino, but I”m also very wary of auditioning for Latino roles because I’m aware I don’t look like a typical Latino person. I don’t want to be someone that you can just sub in for that role, when I’m really white and blonde. And so whenever I do get a role like this, one where he’s not written to be any particular direction and we’re able to collaborate, I’m able to inject some of myself in there. So it’s been really cool to embrace all sides of my history.”

But of course, as is true for Gutierrez, Jamie’s cultural background is only a small part of who he is. Cruel Summer is committed to portraying him as a nuanced character that breaks the moulds of masculinity while tackling complex inner conflict. “Living in his shoes and walking in them, a big question that came up for me was, ‘What is the difference between guilt and shame? [Jamie]’s coping mechanism was terrible and unhealthy, and caused more pain for the people around him. But at the same time, the shame that he internalized made it worse for him. One thing I really learned, is that shame is about yourself and beating yourself up. And guilt is about taking accountability and apologising, moving forward without expecting the relationship to come back. It's just about trying to heal what happened and then moving on, on the terms that the other person sets. It’s not about you, and I think that’s what the character learns throughout the show.”

#froy gutierrez #wonderland magazine #froylan gutierrez #interview #cruel summer #catherine santino

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tenderlyrenjun · 3 years ago

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[9:15 am]

(feat. Mark)

You barge into Renjun’s private study, pushing the classificatory Azure Dragon emblem on the push plate so violently that the doors clammor deafeningly against the walls they hit. The force, even quicker, drives the doors to shut before the head guard, Mark, can follow you in, even with his vampiric speed. Surprisingly, the doors remain intact, likely due to the fiberglass material. But Mark still enters, half a second after you, bowing apologetically to Renjun who reads a sales and revenue report.

“What the hell is this?” you demand, waving a letter with Jaemin’s government seal stamped prominently contrasted against the black-inked characters and tinted white parchment.

Renjun gives you a momentary look until returning to his deep red wine and business report. And neither of you spare a glance at Mark, who immediately assesses the entire room, looking underneath the desk, leaning against the wall to scan the garden outside through the curtains, taking out his ear piece to listen for the slightest of movements, etc. etc.

“I don’t know,” Renjun answers, eyes glossing over the drop in profit, trying to figure out where it comes from.

Every couple of decades, the two of you obtain successive internships at your various companies, under the guise of nepotism, usually to oversee any errors or the general income. And with Renjun having suggested attending college a few months back, this internship with your tech company seemed to just fit the whole college students persona, particularly your A accompanying that computer class Renjun asked you to take. Plus, he wanted to review why the stocks have been going down, especially since your companies are privately owned and you two, the owners, are well-hidden from the public. The only people, prior to your new reemergence into the 21st century, who saw you were other ancient vampires and the members of your coven - Kun, Aurora, Mark, Jiu, Woosung, in addition to the security detail turned and operated by Mark.

“It’s Jaemin’s signature,” you state obviously, crinkling the parchment louder in the air before pulling it in front of you again to reread the message.

“Mhmm,” Renjun hums, already having gathered that, simultaneous with Mark’s reaction: a whispered Oh.

Both you and Renjun turn to Mark, who finished surveying the area. Your vampire hearings amplified the exclamation, so you two raise matching eyebrows.

“Sorry,” Mark excuses himself formally, then resumes the composure of a head guard again: shoulders squared, head up, position alert. He stares blankly at the wall but receives challenging stares ordering a real answer. “I just,” he concedes to his founders, “thought it was something more zealous, or, even, outrageous, like an ex-lover or something.”

You eyebrow raises further, and Renjun closes his file, setting his feet firmly on the ground. It is ... entertaining when vampires make passing comments about your intense relationship - even Jaemin mentioned that he had not seen either of you separated in all 700 years that you three have been friends. Scarcely anyone knows about Renjun’s earlier indiscretion, and you would like to keep it this way, especially if the future unfolds as Doyoung’s right hand predicts it to. The thought paints an intense stare on your face that almost scares Mark.

“We’re both two and a half millennia old,” Renjun reveals, something he rarely admits to people and something that Mark largely underestimated, given by the way his eyes widen and body stiffens. Renjun turns to you, smirking. “Do people always assume that we are first loves?” You glare at him, not wanting to answer, especially after the incident Mark unintentionally brought up. Renjun drops the corners of his lips, right, then reclines in his chaise longue, resuming his casual position crossing his ankle over his knee. “Not that it matters, of course, because you are my only love.”

“And you are my last,” you respond equally.

“What did Jaemin sign?” Mark interjects, not wanting to be caught in yet another lover’s ... to be honest, he cannot describe the intensity; he just knows that he does not want to be in the middle of it again.

“A declaration of war,” you announce, tossing the opened envelope into Renjun’s lap.

Renjun slowly sits up again, then closes his file and chugs the last of his blood, in case of a surprise attack. Younger vampires ... they tend to be more dramatic, and he would not hold it against them if they waited for this exact moment to make a move and jump all three of you at once. So, he needs the last of the blood to have more than enough strength to fight them off.

“Against who though?” Mark asks, making sure to emphasize his presence. Sometimes, you and Renjun slip into that fabled telepathy supposedly shared by Mates (it is fake; you two just know each other well), and as head guard, he needs the information to make a protection plan for the entire coven.

But to his surprise, you answer, “I don’t know,” and rub your forehead. You walk toward Renjun, rereading the message over his shoulder. “Some faction in North America, I assume, based on all the tensions both politically and economically - what with one Lee clans slaughtering an entire town to occupy it.” You sigh, then realize how callous the sentence sounded and look up at Mark, who shared that surname in his mortal life. “Sorry, Mark.”

“Not a problem,” he amends, “Likely no relation.” He triangulates in front of Renjun to watch your back in case a vampire appears from the large mirror at your blind spot. “Was it one of the newer factions?”

Still standing, you exhale loudly through your entire chest (to give yourself a pause to think, to remember), then step a bit further from Renjun, mimicking Mark’s protocol: creating a triangle position amongst the three of you. You would honestly love to sit with Renjun, like all those nights lounging on a couch, studying or watching TV, but the both of you need to be as alert as Mark always is, if not more; the responsibility of protecting your newly rebuilt coven weighing heavily. It took centuries after the last war just to be able to trust other vampires into your hours, and even more decades to do extremely thorough background checks on those who live with you now. At the beginning of the war, assassins infiltrated your manor at your weakest point and Renjun had to rescue you from Yeon’s kidnapping and extortion attempt (possibly even murder, if Renjun had been too late). That was when you lost Xiaojun, Mark’s predecessor who was sire bonded to you. Then, more spies, from all sides, from all covens, absolutely decimated your numbers until only you and Renjun remained. Renjun, too, barely managed during the war, to keep you safe. Luckily, his special compulsion ability was able to order vampires away, undermining their sire bonds to defy their traitorous leaders. He currently keeps this gift secret, only using it when necessary (or as a party trick with his closest friends), though it does still come out subconsciously, hence why his first impressions are always so great.

You sigh again. “Newer vampires don’t know just how many of us there are, or how long we have been around. Aurora is barely 35, and prior to joining us, she was not aware of Jaemin or the Laws. So, of course they have to be a new faction. An arrogant new faction, likely affiliated with one of the Italian clans who want ultimate power again and for the capital to return to Volterra [Italy] again.”

“Rumor has it that Jaemin’s Mate even returned to Korea after drifting through North America,” Renjun gossips. You are always surprised to hear about Jaemin’s Mate, because while he has not been off the compound in 90 years, his Mate is scarcely ever with him. It reminds you how horrible that century without Renjun was; you cannot fathom wanting to be separated for more than a few days. “Perhaps there is some benefit to his Mate having been gone; Jaemin might have more to say than what he send.”

“What did Jaemin want?” Mark asks, as the only person in the room who has not read the letter.

“For us to pledge allegiance,” Renjun answers before you do, also recalling that darkest time when you perfected your poison techniques on treasonists. He deadpans and crumples the letter into a ball, feeling your anger rise with Jaemin’s words. You give Renjun a look, Jaemin cannnot be serious, right? But Renjun shakes his head, unsure; Jaemin is a fan of loyalty, even more than you, so neither of you know what this invitation means - you will have to schedule another meeting with him.

“Does he not remember our commitment to neutrality?” you seethe, balling your hands into fists like the ball, shaking your head with Renjun but in disbelief.

“Does he want to absorb us as well?” Mark asks more realitistcally than you. “Our vampires are highly trained and over half possess special abilities, so -”

“Jaemin is not Doyoung,” you seethe again, interrupting Mark before he can accuse Jaemin of one of the highest crimes (passed into law by Jaemin himself): stalking vampires into a coven. It rose into law after one New Year in the early 19th century when too many newly turned 20-year olds emerged as vampires. Covens grew; entire high school classrooms slaughtered; police stations were at an all time high for corruption as leaders bribed them to turn the other way. The law had been coming for a long time, especially since this is how Doyoung acquired all of his member. Doyoung only recruited leaders with special abilities; hence his left hand atrium, a vampire with subjective precognition born under a chancellor following the Dark Ages, and his right hand (Jeno) atrium, a prince, a former East Palace in the years preceding the Dark Ages, with the ability to recognize any relationship and induce one, though only if he is present. But that holiday was the final deciding factor.

“No,” Renjun agrees, his voice rising to command the room. “But do not forget, love. We wanted Doyoung to rule as well.” You share a lot of qualities with Doyoung, hence why you are old friends, but Jaemin is the current leader and a good one at that too.

“Not at the cost of war.”

“So what do we do?” Mark asks, looking between the two of you for a direction before he creates a plan. “How do we avoid the war?”

Renjun glances at the letter. Jaemin was very firm and strict. So he sighs, resigning in doubt.

“We don’t.”

#renjun #huang renjun #nct #nct renjun #renjun timestamps #renjun imagines #renjun x reader #nct x reader #nct timestamps #nct blurbs #nct fluff #nct angst #renjun fluff #vampire au #nct mark

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hinadoria · 3 years ago

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Title: like nobody’s business

Author: hinadoria / Twitter: @bunniepunk / AO3: bunnypunk

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mild amounts of swearing

Summary: Shen Yuan had never known what to do about crying people, much less crying men asleep in his bed at ass o’clock in the middle of the night. God, if Jiu-ge knew about this, Shen Yuan would be six feet under. No, he’d be yeeted directly into hell’s abyss. Arguably though, this was all Jiu-ge’s fault.

AO3: Link

It started when his old roommate Shang Qinghua decided to get hitched at Shen Yuan’s 25th birthday party. Disregarding the fact that it was his birthday party in his apartment that he was paying for (Shang Qinghua was only there to keep an eye on him at Jiu-ge’s ever insistent demands), an increasingly hammered Shang Qinghua had decided it was the perfect time to propose to his disappointingly sober boyfriend.

“My LORd, have yOU EvEr ThoughT about Getting HitchED?!” he shouted in Mobei-Jun’s face. Shen Yuan saw the wince on Mobei-Jun’s face before he could smooth it away. Airplane-Bro had that effect on people. Even his boyfriend was no exception.

However, Mobei-Jun had silently pulled the biggest ring Shen Yuan had ever seen out of his pocket like it was a dimension to worlds unknown. Shang Qinghua yanked it out of his grasp, put it on, and immediately started sobbing loudly in his boyfriend's arms, effectively ruining the atmosphere.

If it wasn’t because Shen Yuan was already secretly plotting to escape to his room, he might have been significantly more miffed at this sequence of events.

After all, he had never been one for big, lavish events like a formal birthday party. He’d much rather spend it in the comfort of his room, maybe playing videogames with a few close friends. However, Jiu-ge had insisted, in that stubborn way of his, taking no arguments. As a result, Shen Yuan wasn’t sure he even knew half the people at his own party.

This all didn’t mean he was completely free of indignation, however. Shen Yuan cleared his throat pointedly, but was ignored by both the affectionate couple and the crowd of people politely applauding.

It was a testament to Mobei-Jun’s excitement, if he was a man that felt such emotions, that he leaped up onto the table, which creaked dangerously with his weight.

“I’d like to thank my dear friends and my soon-to-be best man who supported me through this time. Whom I wouldn’t have met without Shen Yuan’s recommendation to work at Cang Qiong’s internship program under Shen Jiu. So a heartfelt thanks to them both,” Mobei-Jun proclaimed.

The attention of the party turned to its host, who began to turn hot under all the attention.

Damn, it wasn’t as if he was Mother Teresa.

He had simply wanted to stop hearing Jiu-ge’s nagging complaints about a lack of competent interns at his company. And he knew that Airplane-bro’s boyfriend was just about to graduate. It was simple math.

Either way, he had to resolve this situation before Mobei-Jun broke the table or worse, made him give a speech. He quickly grabbed an abandoned glass from the table and raised it high. With raucous cheer, the party returned to full swing, and Shen Yuan strategically retreated to his bedroom.

The next day, Shang Qinghua had all but been moved out of his apartment (Mobei-Jun worked fast and efficiently. Shen Yuan had been begrudgingly impressed). In the midst of his soporific haze, a loud banging came from his front door. Reluctant to get up, Shen Yuan nevertheless used every last bit of his willpower to do so. When he opened the door however, he immediately found himself in deep regret.

A pale Jiu-ge, like Bloody Mary summoned from a dirty elementary school bathroom mirror, stood at his door, foot tapping a mile a minute. He stormed past Shen Yuan into his apartment and curled his mouth in distaste at the mess.

“This apartment is no longer acceptable. I’ve put up with it until now, but this is the last straw. It is imperative that you move out immediately to a place not infested by the stench of the poor,” Jiu-ge demanded. Shen Yuan would never tell him it was probably the week-old ramen stewing on his kitchen counter.

“But I don’t want to, Jiu-ge, please!” he whined. Like most things regarding his older brother, would eventually yield, but would put up a valiant effort nonetheless. No one had the right to accuse him of being a pushover, after all.

Jiu-ge sat down at his oily counter with a sigh, hands flying up to bury themselves in his messy hair.

Shen Yuan immediately felt guilty.

His brother looked a lot less put-together than he usually was, now that he was looking more closely. His shirt was unbuttoned and his makeup was smudged, both facets of his appearance he usually controlled with meticulous determination.

“Please don’t fight me on this, A-Yuan.” His brother looked back at him, and Shen Yuan could see the weariness in his eyes.

“Is everything okay?” asked Shen Yuan. He tapped his fingers nervously.

“It will be,” Jiu-ge answered immediately as if he had expected this question. “Once I get a good night’s sleep.” Shen Yuan moved to sit by his brother.

“Mobei-Jun proposed to Shang Qinghua yesterday,” he offered. This made the crease between Jiu-ge’s brows deeper further.

“At your birthday party?”

“I know, I was shocked too!”

“Rude bastard. I knew nothing good could come out of that tight-knit group of rascals the company foisted on me.”

“Don’t be like that. I bet you secretly appreciate their help, big softie.” Shen Yuan poked at his brother’s cheek, and giggled when Jiu-ge pretended to bite at him. A small smile appeared on his brother’s face, and Shen Yuan rejoiced at the sight. He felt like he deserved an award for Best Brother of the Year.

“I suppose they suffice at times.” Jiu-ge wrinkled his nose like he had thought of something particularly disgusting. “Well. Almost all of them,” he huffed. He shook his head when Shen Yuan looked at him in question. But Best Brother of the Year did not do things half-heartedly.

“I know how to cheer you up even more,” Shen Yuan decided then and there.

That was how Shen Yuan found himself moved into the expensive nouveau-riche apartment complex next door to his brother on the third floor. All things considered, it wasn’t too bad. Jiu-ge was too busy to check up on him more than once a week in person, although the daily calls to his office phone were still a requirement.

Shen Yuan had always been a homebody, there was no denying that. As long as he could coop up in his room reading and editing trashy novels, he didn’t care for the particulars of time or place, even if leaving his apartment and chancing upon another human made him feel like Oscar the Grouch having been caught outside of his trash can and committing a crime.

The point was: it had all been going just fine and dandy, until one day a shout disrupted Shen Yuan from his editing of one of Airplane’s terribly written papapa scenes. He roughly yanked open his curtains, hearing a rip in the plush blue velvet. Whatever, what Jiu-ge didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The scene which greeted him was one of darkness, which okay, he wasn’t quite expecting that but fine, it wasn’t the first time he had lost track of time doing this and that. Shivering, Shen Yuan stepped out onto his balcony and peered over the rails to see a very attractive, very drunk man holding a broken bottle of what looked like Xin Mo liquor.

“Shen Jiu, there you are, you fucking bastard. Fucking coward! What, too afraid to come and see your disgusting student Binghe on this beautiful night? You always thought you were above us mere mortals, didn’t you? I hope both sides of your pillow are always ice!”

Yikes, Shen Yuan thought privately.

This dude was hammered. Despite everything a laugh bubbled its way up his chest. He didn’t know his brother was so unpopular at work but with a sour face like his, he should’ve expected. Briefly, the thought of pretending to be his brother just to hear more of the entertaining insults crossed his mind, but before he could open his mouth the man, probably named Binghe, went on.

“I bet you think you wake up just looking like an angel descended from the heavens! Well let me tell you, scumbag, that I curse you and your descendents to always have shaky eyeliner! Let’s see you keep up that hoity-toity look and scream at me when you come into work looking like a clown!”

Shen Yuan covered his eyes in horror. Not his eyeliner! He had to look sharp for the ladies.

“I fixed that stupid assignment one million times! Your nitpicking doesn’t even make sense anymore, you blind geezer! Come down here, if you’re not a coward and I’ll show you ...” Binghe paused, looking like he was gonna hurl.

“Show me what? You can’t leave me hanging like that, I won’t be able to sleep!” Shen Yuan shouted out, against his better judgement. He had already been collecting Binghe’s flavored insults to use against that traitor Shang Qinghua next time he saw him.

Binghe looked back up, with what seemed like confusion in his eyes, though it could have just been bleary drunkenness. To Shen Yuan’s horror, it looked like Binghe had tears in his eyes.

“All I wanted was for Laoshi to acknowledge me,” Binghe sobbed out. At this point Shen Yuan had missed his chance to tell the poor man that his brother was out of town on a business trip, and that Binghe was shouting at a stranger. He felt something in his chest squeeze at Binghe’s watery puppy dog eyes.

“Why does everyone look down on me?” Binghe cried. “I try so hard, over and over but all you do is scorn me … again and again! What do I have to do, just tell me, and I’ll do it. Anything! Just …” At this point the boy was choking on his sobs. Shen Yuan felt something shattering. He found himself walking down the stairs. He was going to go down and fetch him before the police were called, that was all, he told himself.

By the time he arrived on the cold grass ready to coax the drunkard, he found him passed out, clutching the broken bottle so hard his hand was bleeding. Shen Yuan sucked in a sharp breath.

“Alright buddy, let’s get you warmed up,” Shen Yuan said as he pried the glass from Binghe’s hand and used all his strength to haul him up and to the elevator.

He got several strange looks as he dragged an unconscious man across the fancy lobby, but Shen Yuan just snorted and ignored them. The people here had sticks so far up their ass they were getting free prostate massages. Shen Yuan stifled his laughter at his own wit in Binghe’s dead weighted shoulder and got a few more strange looks by the lady in the elevator. Halfway to Shen Yuan’s room, Binghe woke up and stared at Shen Yuan like he was an alien.

He struggled a bit and whined, “Laoshi, please don’t dropkick me into the Panama Canal, I promise I’ll be a good boy.”

Shen Yuan laughed and patted Binghe’s hair. “Go back to sleep, rowdy boy. We’ll talk in the morning.” It probably wasn’t because of his words, but Binghe managed to walk a few steps on his own before becoming dead weight on Shen Yuan again. He felt the breath knocked out of him.

“For someone who’s such a crybaby, you sure are … heavy!” Shen Yuan panted as he managed to drag Binghe into his apartment and throw him onto his bed. He shoddily wrapped up Binghe’s bleeding hand with several bandages. Novels may have taught him a lot, but he had surprisingly little practical knowledge when faced with a gash like Binghe’s in reality.

The fatigue of the night finally caught up with him as he saw Binghe’s peaceful sleeping face and he barely managed to do his nightly routine before sliding into his bed next to the unconscious person.

Shen Yuan was just about to drift away into sleep until he heard sniffling coming from the other man and turned around to see Binghe crying in his sleep.

And so was his current dilemma. Shen Yuan had no idea how to handle crying people. He stared dumbly for a few moments before kicking himself to do something, anything!

Shen Yuan wouldn’t do this for any random stranger that came knocking to his door, but luckily he had gleaned several useful tidbits of information from Binghe’s drunken speech. For example, he was likely one of Jiu-ge’s new interns at the large Cang Qiong Company he worked at, under the Qing Jing subsidiary. Second, Jiu-ge seemed to be giving the poor boy an extremely hard time, and Shen Yuan knew better than anyone just how sharp his brother’s acerbic tongue could be. Shen Yuan felt mildly responsible for cleaning up his brother’s mess.

Also, Binghe was terribly cute. He reminded Shen Yuan of the little puppy he used to play with in childhood, named Bingbing, after his favorite actress.

It was a combination of these facts, or none of them, that ultimately made Shen Yuan do what he did next; wrap his arms around Binghe and gently stroke his hair, murmuring comforting words to him until he stopped crying.

Somewhere along the way he found himself asleep as well.

Binghe awoke from his drunken stupor sometime between ass and fuck o’clock in the morning. His hand was covered in messily wrapped bandages.

When he saw the face of the person fast asleep next to him, he flinched backwards so hard he almost fell out of the bed.

What did I do last night? He wailed miserably in his head. A worst case scenario flashed through his head, and he made sure that both of them were clothed before exhaling a sigh of relief. That was the last time he let Mobei-Jun get him drunk, bachelor party be damned.

The last thing he remembered was accepting a glass full of alcohol in the bar he’d been dragged to, but everything afterwards was a blur. He didn’t remember how he walked all the way to his boss’s nouveau riche apartment, and he certainly didn’t remember how he ended up in bed with the man he was most fearful of.

There was one thing Binghe knew with full certainty, however; he had to escape this apartment immediately before he lost his job or worse: his life.

He had barely turned around and registered vaguely that the apartment was a lot sloppier than he’d expected of his avaricious boss before a sleepy hum made him freeze in his tracks.

“Mmm… Binghe?”

Binghe froze. Shen Jiu had never called him by name, it was always something along the lines of “scum” or “lad”.

Filled with trepidation, he turned to face his boss against his better judgement.

A sleepy smile stretched its way across the face of the person in front of him just as the morning’s rays peeked through the rip in the curtains and fell across his face.

Angelic, Binghe’s mind vaguely registered. Maybe he hadn’t come to his boss’s apartment after all. Maybe he had died and entered a realm different than the one he’d been in. Maybe he was already in heaven.

The angel’s face scrunched up cutely at the offending rays across his face. He glanced at the curtains before letting out a forlorn sigh.

“Jiu-ge’s gonna kill me for that …” sighed the angel across from Binghe.

Jiu-ge? Who’s that, I’ll fight him so you never have a frown on your pretty face ever again, Binghe thought blearily.

Mr. Angel noticed he was awake and smiled a crooked smile.

“Good morning. You were drunk and screaming outside my window last night, so I thought I’d do a public service and take you in before you hurt yourself, “ the angel laughed nervously. “Binghe is your name, right?”

Binghe nodded, feeling like his body was not his own. Then he had a thought.

“Wait … how do you know?”

The angel’s lips thinned, looking like he was trying really hard not to laugh. Oh, that was not a good sign.

“Well … You dropped your name in the middle of shouting about how you wished your boss’s food was too salty, among other things …”

The wave of relief that was about to pass through Binghe at realizing this person was likely not his boss aborted itself as it was overtaken by sheer waves of mortification.

Binghe covered his face with his hands, letting out an ungodly groan of embarrassment.

“Binghe… I’m saying this for your own good.” Mr. Angel looked into Binghe’s eyes seriously. “Do you know how to use swear words?”

Binghe immediately pouted, feeling like he was being made fun of. He couldn’t find it in himself to be truly annoyed, however, at the angel’s bell-like peals of laughter smothered by his hand. It was such a stark contrast to his boss’s restrained expressions.

“Ah! I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Shen Yuan, Shen Jiu’s younger twin brother.”

And there was the horror again.

Just as Binghe was about to bid farewell to his short, inconsequential life, Shen Yuan continued chattering. “You’re lucky Jiu-ge’s out of town on a business trip, and that you weren’t actually serenading his window but mine. If he was here, I don’t know if I could have even stopped him from personally throwing you into a jail cell.”

Binghe felt like he had gotten off of a life-threatening roller coaster ride. Stiffly, he rose from the bed and bent ninety degrees into a bow.

“Thanking Shen Yuan for his kindness in rescuing this lowly one from his predicament!” Binghe grew so nervous he immediately started speaking as if he were in a period drama. “In order to repay my honorable benefactor, this one will prepare breakfast!” He rushed away before Shen Yuan could speak a single word.

Once Binghe found the kitchen, he allowed himself a mini-freakout session. He! Was in! His boss’s younger brother’s bed! And the younger brother was an angel! Even though Binghe was fairly certain nothing untoward had occurred between the two of them the night prior, he felt every inch of his nerves tingling. He was also fairly certain that any other person that lacked Shen Yuan’s generosity would have immediately called the police on him at the least.

This was the first time anyone had done something so selfless for his sake.

Unbidden, a flush streaked across his cheeks, and Binghe slapped at himself to get out of it. Shen Yuan was his benefactor, and it would be wrong to have indecent thoughts about someone so innocent. There may not be much Binghe was good at, as he had learned from his internship under Shen Jiu, but the least he could do was cook him a decent breakfast.

Shen Yuan was roused from his half-wakeful state by the smell of something good coming from the kitchen. Which was weird because last he checked, there was nothing in there but dust and half-eaten ramen. (Yes, he had a problem.)

Wait … Binghe!

It was a little belated, but the nagging voice in Shen Yuan’s head that sounded suspiciously like Jiu-ge berated himself for falling asleep again while a stranger was in his apartment. A cute stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

Shen Yuan, the voice nagged. One of these days you’re going to get yourself murdered in cold blood …

Alright, shut up, you. No one wants to hear this in the early morning, Shen Yuan bickered back.

“Sir?” Binghe’s voice nervously called from the kitchen entrance.

Shen Yuan immediately relaxed back into what he thought was a cool pose.

“There’s no need for formalities, Binghe. After all, you’ve already slept in my bed.”

Binghe’s ears flushed red at his words, and he swayed back and forth like a maiden on the morning after her wedding night. Shen Yuan stopped this strange line of thinking once he realized how weird it was.

“I made you breakfast as a thank you for er… handling me last night,” Binghe said softly.

Well, that didn’t help his strange thoughts. The last conscious thought Shen Yuan had was that he’d better go and eat the poor shy guy’s food since he had made it already.

He didn’t recall getting up or sitting down at the kitchen table, but the next thing he knew he was staring down at an empty plate, stomach full of delicious food.

“I don’t know what to think. This is the first time this has happened to me.” It wasn’t, but Shen Yuan had always had a flair for the dramatic. “If you can cook so well, why are you wasting your time under my brother’s wing? You should go be a professional chef, and share this magic with the rest of the world.”

It wasn’t empty praise. Shen Yuan genuinely believed he’d be blessed if he could eat like this every day for the rest of his life. His terrible habit of crappy eating would be forever changed.

Binghe was so red he looked like a tomato.

Abruptly, the sounds of a phone ringing disrupted the nice atmosphere. Binghe’s face paled.

“Oh no, I left Mobei-Jun at the club last night. He must be wondering where I am. The bachelor party got kind of crazy.”

Hm? Mobei-Jun? Shen Yuan slapped his forehead in realization. Of course! Binghe was a part of Jiu-ge’s interns, of course he knew Mobei-Jun. Shen Yuan had no idea how he had failed to make that connection. He might even be the best man Mobei-Jun had mentioned, since he was pretty sure the third intern was a woman. Sha Hualing, he believed her name was?

Either way, Shen Yuan hadn’t realized he and Binghe were so closely connected. Besides, he hadn’t felt comfortable calling Binghe a stranger, now that they no longer were.

Maybe he’d get a chance to see Binghe in a tux at the wedding? That would be so cute! Of course, he’d have to help keep him away from the champagne, especially since Jiu-ge would also be there. That was a nightmare waiting to happen.

While Shen Yuan was off fantasizing, Binghe had gathered all his stuff and prepared to leave. He hovered nervously around the door.

Shen Yuan snapped out of it to bid him goodbye. Binghe smiled shyly.

“Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime?” he asked.

Shen Yuan hid a smile behind his hand, and adopted a lofty expression.

“This immortal does not often descend from his honorable peak. However, if fate wills it to be so, then so shall it be,” he said, imitating Binghe’s earlier style of speech.

Binghe laughed, but kept hovering near the door as if he was waiting for something.

“Alright, your friend must be wondering where you are. Go on, now.” A flash of disappointment crossed Binghe’s face, but he obediently left, looking back like a puppy several times as he did so.

It wasn’t until much later that Shen Yuan would realize he had forgotten to explain that he was friends with Shang Qinghua, and that they would likely see each other again at the wedding. By the time the wedding itself rolled around, it would prove to be an ordeal of its own.

But that would remain a story for another time.

#SVSSS #svsss fic #bingyuan #shen yuan #luo binghe #scumbag self saving system #bingqiuweek2021 #fanfic #day eight #fanfiction #my works

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