#<- this kind of counts as theorizing right..

[unnounblr]

...Thinking about it, I feel like the only way Leed could know about Laios's obsession with monsters and monster anatomy (and how that could translate to him being gross about orcs, and "orc sweat") is if Zon told her.

Literally the only time she meets Laios herself, he's unconscious almost the whole time. When he wakes up, he and Chilchuck have an earnest conversation about returning to the surface. She's also present when Laios and company theorize about how to defeat the demon, but they don't interact, and Laios isn't being that weird.

Like. He shows up wearing a walking mushroom costume, but. So are Izutsumi, Chilchuck and Senshi, and it's presented as a strategy, to blend in with the monster hordes.

Laios mentions eating monsters, but she doesn't even judge the party for that earlier. When Chilchuck mentions eating the Red Dragon, she compliments them for it, says they deserved to for being stronger than it, for being victorious over it. It's a very "might makes right" sort of culture. And the orcs did threaten to eat the party earlier during the first meeting when they make bread.

Zon is kind of a shitty brother. Convincing her that she needs to marry a guy for the sake of their people, and also that the guy is a gross weirdo and a freak.

...Like, to a degree that isn't untrue. I could imagine Laios being weird to her the way he is about wanting to count Izutsumi's nipples.

But the key there is that there isn't much if any genuine sexual interest or desire. And I don't think he'd pressure her into sex, whether it's expected of them after marriage or not.

Honestly, it's hard to tell what Laios's actual sexual interests are. Like, his comment in the extra about orc breasts and bottoms. Could just be him talking about what's conventionally attractive, and not his own interests.

On the other hand, the succubus that looks like Marcille. Kisses him on the mouth. The succubi aren't just about sexual desire, Izutsumi is basically confirmed ace, and hers looks like her mom (or at least, the one for her human soul, it seems like the one for her animal soul is meant to appeal sexually, given her comment about the soul having good taste) but.

The succubus for Laios has multiple components, about turning into a monster, about his friends accepting him and his love for monsters and turning into monsters themselves, but. Even though the fake Marcille says she can turn anyone by biting them, anywhere. She still gets him with a kiss. So I can't quite tell what that's about.

Insofar as there's any shipping in the idea I have. I think, given the Orc propensity for polygamy, I think Leed could assume that Marcille is going to be Laios's other wife, or already is.

And I personally actually ship Falin and Marcille more, but also that they aren't in a relationship yet by the time of the series and have to figure things out afterwards, and. Like, Leed is very emotionally intelligent when dealing with Chilchuck, but. I think, insofar as she should be involved in any relationship drama, being as young as she is. I think it would be extremely funny for anyone to be dropped into that situation, without any context, and have to live in a building with those people while all that's going on.

She thinks she's going to be a child bride, and ends up becoming a relationship counselor slash military strategist. That's the funniest idea, to me.

Leed is a Minor!!

“I suppose she would be around her third year in middle school.”

This comment from Daydream Hour is the only info we have for her age/maturity, or orcs' age of maturity in general.

The whole "Bride of Laois" thing doesn't automatically mean that she is mature, it means that orc culture mirrors plenty of real-world cultures that also let women marry at 14/15.

She must be protected at all costs!

[miesozernacma]

honestly id LOve to learn more from su about just the origin of gems. how this ancient civilization began, how the diamonds manifested – was it white diamond who was "born" first? how did she exist in her first few years, and then figure out she could create gems?

I'm incredibly fascinated by the possibilities, especially since in the first few seasons of su we see a bunch of temple ruins of all kinds so like.

did the gems have an actual religion(s)? was it something that existed and then was eradicated as white diamond/the diamonds came into power, or did the diamonds bring about those beliefs as well???????

and the ancient spacecraft tech(?!!!?;!!! ) (from that episode with centipeetle/nephrite) that is still more advanced than modern human technology??

i want to know just how many years of gem "evolution" we're talkin about. hell i dont even need numbers i just rly wanna know how things looked like in the very beginning..... would white diamond/the diamonds even still remember said times...

[quack-quack-snacks]

Elephants In Love

Pairing(s): Inexperienced!reader x Inexperienced!Arisu Summary: This is basically a rewrite of Season two episode six, the elephant scene, except with the reader and smut. They’re both virgins and awkward as shit but they like each otherrrrrr Warnings: Fluffy fluff fluff, fingering, sex kinda in water (Don’t do that it’s kinda dangerous), unprotected sex (Def don’t do that, wrap it before you tap it), super soft fluffy sex. Word Count: 3,513

“Oh. My. God.”

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. 

“Arisu!” You called out to the boy. He was a ways away from you, checking out a puddle on the ground. He dipped his hand in but then flinched back. He faced you with wide eyes, realizing the same thing as you. “It’s a hot spring!” You exclaimed excitedly. “The water’s perfect over here! It’s hot but not burning, you know?”

He smiled at you sincerely, watching as you clenched your fists to resist the urge to jump up and down in joy. Although the smell of sulfur in the air made his nose twitch, he held back any complaints to not ruin your moment. “Really? Then let’s get in!” He prompted, running toward you and taking off the flannel over his undershirt. “When’s the last time we took a bath? We can’t pass this up!”

“You want to bathe together?” You questioned, looking away in embarrassment at the thought. 

“Huh? Oh,” he said quietly, realizing his words. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “How about I go over there,” you pointed to the part of the spring behind a rock. “And you can stay here?”

He nodded in agreement, a light hint of pink dusting his cheeks, covered just enough by the lack of light that you couldn’t see his visible embarrassment. 

Walking over to the rock, you took a glance back at Arisu but quickly looked away when you saw him taking off his shirt. You scolded yourself for having feelings for him, but it was just so easy. He was so easy to fall for, with his beautiful face, high cheekbones, and kissable lips. He was kind too; always sacrificing himself to help you and others. It was rare to see him so happy, so excited; it was beautiful and you cherished each moment he shared his happiness with you. 

You took off your clothes, setting them down on a piece of broken rubble near you for when you got out. Stepping into the water, you went slowly to adjust to the hot temperature until you finally settled down. You let yourself float on the water, soaking in the feeling of a bath after going so long without one and letting your head go under the water for a few moments before returning to the surface and smoothing your hand over your face to get rid of the water that collected there. 

You heard Arisu let out a pleased sigh. “I could die right now and I’d be happy.”

“Don’t go dying on me just yet, we still gotta get home so I can be your friend in the real world,” you demanded, half joking and half serious. 

He was silent for a moment before he replied. “Yeah, I’d like to be your… friend, too.”

You were about to reply when the strangest thing in front of you appeared. You let out a small sound of surprise. Arisu started calling your name, worry in his tone, but you just were unable to form any words. He appeared from behind the rubble and his eyes landed on the same thing that captured your attention. “That’s not possible,” he breathed out softly, stepping more towards you. “They can’t be real, can they?”

In front of you were two large elephants, their feet three feet deep in the water. You were absolutely mesmerized, so much so that you didn’t even realize how close he was to you and how naked your body was under the crystal-clear water. 

“They’re taking a bath too,” he said with a childlike wonder that was so precious. 

“I’m pretty sure there was an animal exhibit relatively close to here. Maybe they escaped there after everyone disappeared,” you theorized.

“If we hadn’t been brought here, we’d have never seen this,” he spoke again. The thought was both heartwarming and heartbreaking. You never wanted to be in the borderlands, you were just thrown in without any explanation. But if you never made it in, you would have never met Arisu. You would have never seen the elephants in front of you; never met the friends you made through the games. 

A sad smile made its way onto your face as you watched one of the elephants stick its trunk into the water. “Yeah,” you whispered.

“You know what’s kind of crazy?” He asked rhetorically. “I’m feeling emotional, and I’m not entirely sure why.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the exact same way. “Yeah, I feel it too.”

After a moment, you turned your head to look at Arisu only to find him already looking at you. The two of you stared at each other for a long moment, just basking in each other’s presence and the calm atmosphere. Your eyes began to travel down his face to his chest. Water droplets collected on his skin as he stood tall. The lower part of his body was covered by the water and the thought brought you out of your haze. You turned around quickly, pressing your hands to your cheeks to calm the heat collecting there at the expense of your embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry!” Arisu apologized from behind you. You could practically see the awkward position he was probably in at that moment. “I didn't see anything! Just elephants! I’m only looking at them,” he reassured. “I love elephants.”

At the end of his rant of an apology, you turned back around to face him. “Arisu,” you called. He stopped in his tracks as he was walking back to his designated bathing spot. “It’s okay,” you said shyly. “I- I didn’t mind,” you confessed, cursing yourself for the lack of confidence you had in the words. They were true, you genuinely didn’t mind, but it sounded so hesitant when it came out of your mouth. “You can stay.”

He turned around slowly, looking at you for confirmation which you nodded at. He then lowered himself into the water until it met his broad shoulders. You had a small smile on your face as you watched him. He was just so beautiful you couldn’t believe it. Even if nothing came out of this, you would be happy just to stay by his side as a friend. 

Arisu slowly walked up to you until barely two feet were separating the two of you. Your eyes locked and it was like the world stopped at that moment, just allowing the two of you time to look at each other without any interruptions.

That is until one of the elephants collected some water in its trunk and sprayed it over its head and back. The two of you looked over in awe, a breathy laugh leaving your lips as you unconsciously let your fingers skim against his. You didn’t even realize it until Arisu let out a soft gasp and looked down at your hands. You looked down as well but didn’t raise your gaze to meet his, too nervous to see what his expression would be. Instead, when you realized he didn’t pull away, you softly, with a barely-there touch, pressed your fingertips against his. Your lips formed a soft smile when he took the next step and interlocked your fingers. 

Finally looking up, his eyes, soft and adoring, stared back into yours. His smile mirrored your own: gentle, hesitant, hopeful. It was when his eyes drifted away from yours to look at your lips that you finally saw the signs in front of you. 

He liked you too. 

You’d had the thought of him returning your feelings fluttering through your mind on occasion, but you always pushed it away, thinking he was just being friendly. You should have just listened to Usagi, she always knew he liked you and encouraged you to confess your feelings. She was right, as usual.

You lifted your right hand to place it on his cheek, lightly brushing your thumb along the scar on his cheek. It was one he’d gotten during the whole fiasco during the Ten of Hearts game back at The Beach. You don’t like the memory that accompanies the wounded tissue on his face, but you always thought it was beautiful. 

He leaned his cheek more into your hold, letting out a deep sigh and briefly closing his eyes. When he opened them, he lifted his free hand hesitantly before placing his palm on the side of your neck, pulling you toward him ever so slightly. He gave you every opportunity to pull away but you didn’t want to. You just wanted him to close the distance between the two of you and kiss you. He stopped again when he was less than an inch away from your face, your lips brushing with each breath. Deciding to take it into your own hands despite your nerves, you pushed forward and pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss. It wasn’t a very long kiss but it felt like forever before you slowly disconnected yourselves. He didn’t let you stray far as he rested his forehead against yours with his eyes closed. 

He let out a quiet laugh. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months,” he confessed. 

You grinned, leaning back in to give him a short kiss and giggling when he tried to chase your lips as you pulled away. “Me too,” you admitted in a low voice. 

He gently disconnected your interlocked hands and you started to pull away, thinking the moment was over until he wrapped his - now free - hand around your waist. In a frantic and panicked attempt to stop you from pulling away, he pulled you toward him with a little too much force and your bare chest crashed against his. The hand that held his cheek fell to his shoulder while your other instinctively placed your palm just below his collarbone. His eyes were wide as he gazed into your surprised ones, his body stiff as a log when your breasts pressed against him under the water. The both of you stayed still, trying to figure out what to do in the unfamiliar territory. It wasn’t until you inched the hand on his shoulder to the back of his neck that you felt him relax, your own body relaxing as a result. 

You pulled him back in to connect your lips again, both of you feeling more confident with the situation. He gently started to lead you backwards until you met a large slab of slanted concrete that was halfway in the water. It was tilted just enough to make it so that you were still being caressed by the soft ripples of the water but you weren’t fully submerged as Arisu carefully lowered you onto it with a hand protecting your head. He pulled away from the kiss, looking to make sure each thing he did was wanted. 

It was.

You let a finger trace over his neck, smiling proudly when you felt the high speed of his pulse and the subtle shiver that ran down his spine. He watched you with such awe as your fingers skimmed up to his jaw, then his cheek, then his lips. You traced his bottom lip with your thumb, caressing the dimples caused by the smile he was shining down on you. Pulling him down, the two of you kissed again, though this time it seemed more heated; more passionate. His mouth found its way down your neck, leaving soft pecks against your skin until he reached just past your collarbone. He leaned back to look at you as if just realizing your position. 

With the placement of your body on the rock, the whole of your torso was out of the water and put on display for Arisu’s eyes to roam freely. He blushed when his gaze settled onto your breasts, still dripping from the water of the spring and with your nipples slowly becoming pebbled from the growing excitement in your core, but he wasn’t able to tear his eyes away. 

“Are you just going to look at me all day or are you going to do something?” You asked him. Your tone was teasing but he caught the slight vulnerability laced beneath the words. He noticed the way your fingers twitched as if wanting to reach up and cover yourself from his judgemental - or at least, in your mind - eyes. 

“You never told me you had a body built by the Gods,” he said genuinely, hesitantly tracing a hand down from your neck to your breast, going slowly in case you changed your mind. Your body continuously tensed up and relaxed in excitement as he skimmed his fingers over your right breast. You let out a soft whimper and saw his eyes dilate, lust filling them. He got more confident and wrapped his hand around your breast, squeezing gently. 

“Arisu,” you moaned out softly as you grabbed the hand not fondling your breast, and moved it down your body towards your core. “Please-.”

He watched in awe as you led his hand under the water to where your cunt was slightly distorted from the water but wet for other reasons. 

You moaned out and dropped your head back on the rock as his fingers swiped through your folds, bumping your clit each time he went up. 

“I’ve never done this before.”

Your head snapped back up to look at him as he nervously looked into your eyes. You could see the fear of judgment and insecurity in his gaze; you could also see the confusion when you smiled at him. 

“Me neither,” you whispered, bringing your free hand up to caress his cheek. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. 

“Do you want to?” He asked, being extra careful about making sure you wanted this.

“Arisu,” you deadpanned, but he quickly cut you off. 

“Ryōhei. Call me Ryōhei, please. If I’m going to be making love to you then I want you to call me Ryōhei,” he pleaded and you had no choice but to concede. 

“Okay, well, Ryōhei,” you started again and he let out a little moan of approval into your neck that made you blush. “We wouldn’t have gotten to this point if I didn’t want it,” you reassured and he raised his head to look at you. “I want you, I have since the day we met.”

He smiled at you before resting his head back into the crook of your neck. “Okay, then. Are you ready?” He asked as he lined his fingers up to the entrance of your core. 

You nodded and he gently latched his teeth onto your neck, making you gasp before he slowly entered his middle finger into your wet, warm cunt. The feeling was similar to what it felt like when you played with yourself but so much better. Ryōhei’s fingers were longer and hit places you could never find. He may have been inexperienced but he was obviously naturally skilled at it. 

He started to slowly pull it out before pushing it back in, rougher than gentle but not too rough. Your moans and whimpers encouraged him to continue and he did. He brought his thumb down to try and find your clit, finding it after a few seconds of effort. He was glad he at least knew a bit about the female body and how to properly please them (he partially had porn to thank for that). The choked moan you let out the moment he pressed his thumb to your bundle of nerves made him grin cockily into your neck. 

“That’s it,” he whispered against your skin and you breathed shakily. When he slowly pushed his ring finger into you alongside his middle finger, your legs, which had been wrapped around his waist for the majority of your activity, squeezed around him as your moans slowly got louder and your breathing picked up. You weren’t sure how he was able to make you reach the edge so quickly but you didn’t really care either. “I’ve got you, just let go,” he reassured you, pressing kisses along your neck and shoulder. It was the needed push for you to reach your high. He kept pumping, riding you through everything and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

Once you reached the end of your orgasm, Ryōhei slowly pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought it over to massage your thigh as you breathed heavily. When you opened your eyes, you saw him looking at you with the most awestruck and lovesick look in his eyes, it built your confidence but also made you overly shy. You forced yourself to not look away from his intense gaze, staring straight back at him with a look that had Ryōhei grow harder than he already was. 

“Do you want to keep going?” He asked you, having brought both hands down to your thighs to massage them and love on them. Your heart clenched at his sweetness and you knew this was the boy you wanted to marry someday. 

“Please,” you answered in response with a nod. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a loving kiss. He smiled into the kiss and slowly started to readjust you so you were higher on the rock, your - still dripping - core now on full display for him to see. 

When he pulled away, he immediately lowered his gaze over your body and eventually to the pussy he would be inside in a few minutes. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. How did I get so lucky?” He asked rhetorically before letting his right hand leave your left thigh to grab his erection and drag the head through your fold, circling your clit with it every time he passed over it. “Are you ready? I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he reassured. You looked down at where he was still dragging his penis over your cunt and realized just how big he was. 

And you meant it when you said it was big. 

Despite your nervousness about his size, you nodded and pulled him down so this time you were hiding your face in his neck. “I’m ready.”

As soon as you said that, he slowly began to enter his dick in you, going so slowly as to not hurt you. You whimpered at the stretch, the pain mixing with the slightest bit of pleasure. When his hips pushed flush against the backs of your thighs and ass, he stayed still, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit to help you adjust to the pain. It worked. The pain morphed into a dull ache and the pleasure started to take over. “Please,” you whined and squirmed just the tiniest bit against him. He got the message and slowly pulled out until only the tip remained, only to push it right back in again. He was so deep, you swore he hit your cervix. The pleasurable pain of the feeling made your head fall back and your legs squeeze around Ryōhei’s waist. He kept one of his hands to press against your hip and keep you in place while the other rubbed tight circles on your clit. 

It was such an intense feeling that you couldn’t believe it was actually happening. You were losing your virginity, but most importantly, making love to Arisu Ryōhei, the boy you’d been falling in love with since the day you met him in this dreadful world. You wished the moment would never end, but you knew it had to.

Especially since you could feel your orgasm coming up on you very quickly. 

Almost like the two of you were in sync or he was reading your mind, Ryōhei said, “I won’t be able to last much longer. Fuck, you’re so tight,” he moaned out. 

“Me too,” you whined, bringing him down to your level again so you could messily slam your lips against his. The kiss was little more than the two of you breathing heavily into each other’s mouths until you could feel the warm feeling of Ryōhei’s cum painting the inside of your walls. Him cumming triggered your own orgasm and the two of you moaned into your interlocked lips. 

He continued to thrust the two of you through your highs until he slowed to a stop and gathered you in his arms for a cuddle session. You laughed under your breath and wrapped your arms around his as well to return his affection. 

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed into your ear from where his head was resting against your temple. His lips traced against the shell of your ear as he spoke and it made a pleasurable shiver run down your spine. You smiled at his confession of love and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“I am so in love with you, Ryōhei.”

You were quietly grateful for those elephants because they ended up being the whole reason you and Ryōhei found your way to each other, this time as lovers instead of friends.

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Heavy, heavy fucking angst, jealousy, cunnilingus, fingering, blow jobs, rough sex, dirty talk, name calling (slut/bitch etc) toxic attraction, Gojo is toxic, reader is toxic. OOC. TOXIC britney spears level lol. Split POV-

♔ Word count: this chap: 12k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Slow burn, enemies to lovers. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you - Don't read this if you want a nice Gojo lol.

Comments and Reblogs appreciated <3

Part Eight - Masterlist - Playlist

Part Nine- Let it all Burn

Your POV

“You’re so foolish to trust him, we can do this without the Duke’s cooperation.” Nanami says, cupping your face tightly, and you sigh, shutting your eyes.

“I believe him-”

“How can you! Have you forgotten all the things he’s done to you?” Nanami demands, his voice so much harsher than you’ve heard it, making you back away a step, taking a breath.

“No, I have not, that’s why I’m leaving him, Ken. I don’t expect you to wait around all month, I already know that would be stupid and selfish. You do not have to stay with me-”

“I did not say I would leave you.” He whispers, but you see his brows draw together, you see the pain on his face, and you hate yourself more and more with every breath you take.

“Do not close yourself off, even after this annulment if I am to be alone, I will be fine, I will surely miss you sweet Kento, but I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy with you in my arms.”

“You’re miserable with me, you just won’t admit it, it drives you crazy and it hurts you. And that hurts me.” Your voice is hoarse now, as he shakes his head, denying his own truth. “You are hurting, be honest.”

“Because you’re trusting him, because I will not see you for a month? How can I be happy with that, when I want you to be mine, not his.” Kento’s voice grows more intense, as he’s looking down at you, taking your chin in his hands and running a thumb down your lip. “No I don’t want to share you, but at least I know you’re here, but now you’ll be with him only.”

He’s overwhelming you so much you feel your chest tighten, trying to focus on the right thing to say. “Things are moving so fast with us, I worry you’re not thinking rationally. You do not even know me that well to marry me so suddenly, I fear it’s your kindness, it’s your caring, your heart. Wanting to save me, care for me.”

He laughs then, but it’s a dark laugh, as he runs his hands down your body, pressing his fingers into your waist, against your ribcage. “No I do not think rationally with you, I’ve thought rationally my entire existence in my work, in my life, but with you I lose that completely, when I’m kissing you, when I’m inside you.” He’s pressing his body on yours, bending low as he murmurs. “There’s no rationale to how good you feel.”

You’re flushed, and overwhelmed, as you realize Kento has fallen so deeply, and you’re not sure you’re in that same way. You have love for Kento, you clearly have attraction, and it’s so easy to just be with him. You are happy, you enjoy him, but it’s not an all consuming need, and you don’t know what love truly is yet. You have never been taught such things.

Your mother told you nothing of sex, of marriage, and you had not even laid with your own husband, choosing Kento, and now your rash moment seems to just be hurting everyone. And why was Duke Gojo constantly on your mind, was it some trauma response as Kento theorizes, or is it so much more?

Is it the fact that his kisses destroy you?

Is it the fact that every day you feel worse for continuing with Nanami this way, but you do not know how to express it? And what future is there for you with him, surely your parents would disown you, society would disown you. And you do not mind such things for love, but you are unsure of everything, you wish so badly you could put proper thoughts together.

But how can you when you have Gojo acting…

Fuck, nice?

Was it some act, was it some game? And in the end, you need Gojo to end the marriage, you truly would have a horrible time without him, that’s where Nanami was a little wrong. You thought you were so sure of everything, but Nanami’s possessiveness and how deeply he feels brings a sinking feeling to your tummy, for fear of disappointing him, hurting him again.

It’s what you do, you hurt people, hurt them like you’re hurting, trying to find comfort in Nanami.

“I am not sure if I can return your love confession, that’s not fair to you-”

“You’re young, inexperienced, and this is new. I’m a very serious man, and I know what I want… and I take it.” He says softly, you sigh, biting your lower lip. “And I want you, I want to take care of you.”

“You do not owe me so much kindness.” You stroke his cheek with your gloved hand gently, and watch his lips set in a terse line.

“You have given me your body, your innocence, do you think these things mean nothing to me, like your… Duke thinks of them?” You blink a bit, hating the pain in his voice, but understanding it.

“I know they mean something, it was why I chose you to be my first.”

Kento sighs, pulling you against his hard body then, hazel eyes narrowing, thin nostrils flaring, you can tell he’s furious at the thought. “Please, don’t trust him, don’t leave me for a month to fall victim to such manipulation.”

“I don’t want to leave you! But I do want to help the villagers, and Satoru can help me with my parents even, that’s something we really need. You’re acting as if I will not face so many challenges-”

“Satoru, you call him Satoru?” He demands then, ignoring what you’re saying, and you sigh, shutting your tired eyes, feeling pulled every which way until you may break.

“Not to his face, never, I suppose I’m just sleepy.”

“Sleepy, why, were you just up all night with him?” It’s your turn to glare at him now, and Nanami rubs his eyes, exhaling and lowering his head. “Fuck, I’m sorry darling, I-”

“You said you forgave me, but you keep accusing me of doing more. I clearly broke your trust, and I don’t think that I can repair that.”

“No, no. I’m sorry.” His voice breaks, as he’s holding your hands and kissing them, sighing.

“I’ve given you every opportunity to run from me, to go be happy, you’re so handsome, so sweet, there is no way you wouldn’t find a lovely woman, with much less baggage. Please do not make me feel even worse than I do, I promise I hate myself enough.” You choke on the words.

Kento looks at you, stepping closer, brushing his hand down your cheek. “I do not regret meeting you, or doing this, but it’s killing me enough already. Now I must think of him near you and I don’t even get to see your pretty face?” His husky voice breaks your heart into pieces.

“Kento…” You’re crying now, and he’s swiping your tears, leaning down to kiss you, and you press your lips back, but when he has his hands gripping your hips, and then he eagerly starts to unlace your bodice, his tongue swiping in your mouth, you pause him, pushing him gently away. “We cannot, I gave him my word.”

His brows lower. “Your word? What about your word to me?” He says, and you lace up your bodice, blushing furiously.

“My word was to be honest, and I have been, I have told you what I did, and you are clearly still hurt. Perhaps-”

“Yes I’m hurt. But I still need you, it’s beyond wanting, I crave you, I’m falling so deeply, and now I’m terrified to lose you, because your Duke will manipulate you.”

“Ken…”

“You’re too innocent, you do not know what he could do.”

“I’m not so innocent anymore. I know you care… but I have an obligation here, and I think I owe it to try, if he is going to. It’s to end our marriage, and have all my dowry, which could go to my children some day. It’s a win win.”

“Not for me.” He says, and you feel your tummy lurch, as his words devastate you so much.

“No… not for you. Kento, here…” You’re taking off your necklace with shaky hands, as tears are burning your eyes, and Kento glares.

He stops your hands. “Do not take it off, it’s yours.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“You do, I just… I’m just upset. I hate him for what he did to you, and you’re so kind you’ll forgive him.” You lean back against the wall now, bones aching and exhausted, as you see the hurt you’ve caused by being so selfish, by wanting to be so happy with Kento, at his expense, falling deeper in self loathing.

“Perhaps you will find someone more worthy-”

“I want you.” He says again, softer, tilting up your chin. “I’ve wanted you since that night, when you ran off and disappeared. I won’t stop wanting you.”

“Kento…” He’s leaned down and kissing you again, tasting your salty tears, and he’s gripping you so tightly, holding you against him, but the kiss makes you sadder and sadder, his arms like a trap you wish to escape, and you hate yourself for feeling that way about him. “I am sorry that I hurt you, I never, ever wanted to.”

“I cannot bear it if you do this.” You’re a sobbing mess now, as his words hurt your heart, like he’s piercing a blade right between your breasts. “Kiss me, please, let me feel your perfect lips.”

You press yours against his again, as he holds you close, in his warm, cozy apartments, and you wonder if this is the last time you’ll see him. You wonder if he’ll find someone so beautiful and sweet and open like he deserves, and by the end of the month, you’d be all alone, on your own. No cruel… confusing… Duke Gojo, no sweet, perfect Nanami.

Perhaps just you and your thoughts.

Maybe that was for the best, so you would not hurt him anymore, and you could wallow in your own self doubts, free of Duke Gojo. You did want to be free of him, even if perhaps you all could get along somewhat at the end of this, Gojo could never love you, fuck he hates you, and you reciprocate it. Hate and toxic attraction was not love and could never be.

Nanami is kissing down your throat to your breasts, where they’re rising and falling with every breath, tongue hot and wet against your skin, his other hand slipping your skirts up. “Will you not even let me pleasure you?”

“I promised. I’m sorry but I cannot have him keep his half of the bargain if I am not going to.” You say softly, as his hands pause, and his hazel eyes are narrowed.

“Why keep your word of not sleeping with me, when did he care for your feelings?” Nanami whispers then, and you frown.

“He has been with no one for over a week. I do believe he’s serious about this, about righting wrongs.” 

“It’s as if you’re giving him more care than me.” He whispers, and you can’t take it then, as you feel the pain setting in, the self loathing. “You had no problem letting him lick you, despite my feelings, yet you cut yourself off of me now for him. What am I to think?”

“Kento, I think perhaps we should… cool down on this.”

He glares now, jaw setting. “Cool down?”

“Yes it’s too much, too soon. It’s all so foolish! How can we have this happy life you wish when you don’t truly know me? When you cannot trust anything I say.” Your voice is breaking, and you see the hurt written on his face.

“There’s time to get to know these things, for now I just know I’m hopelessly in love with you. All of you.”

“You’ll be disappointed the more you learn.” Nanami’s normally warm and cozy apartments feel like they’re closing in, like they’re so tiny. “You’re a perfect man, Nanami Kento, I fear I am far from perfection.”

“You’re perfect to me. You taste and look like perfection, don’t you know?” He’s touching you again, until he’s on his knees, pulling you against him, looking up at you, and your heart breaks. “Do not leave so soon.”

“Kento, get up don’t…” You’re pulling him up gently, and he has tears in his eyes now.

“I’m asking you not to do this. Will you please not go?” He whispers, cupping your face, and you wish you could give him the answer he needs, but you know you need to do this. Everything is screaming it, even if you wish it would scream for you to stay with sweet Nanami.

“I must do this. I’m so sorry.” You say softly, and he chokes on a cry, just as you do, hating yourself so much you can’t stand it.

Why did you run to him?

Why did you put so much on him!?

And now you hurt him more.

But this is the right decision, your gut, heart, and soul is telling you, to try to help the Duke’s villages, to try to at least become cordial with him by the end of this. But hurting Nanami in the process was never your intention, clearly he would be far better off without you, and you don’t even know if you can keep on, with how far his feelings have gotten so quickly.

You ache to return them fully, you ache to love Nanami, fuck you do adore him, but this all consuming need he has, how he burns for you, you do not. Every time you try to tell him, he gives you an excuse, a reason, and does not let you finish your words, the ones constantly stuck in your throat.

“You’re making a stupid, foolish decision. Truly you are. I don’t know how much I can save you from yourself, Duchess.” He says then, and your eyes shut, your gloves are sticky with your tears as you wipe them off your cheeks. “You’re young and naive, you have no clue what you’re doing.”

“I may be young and naive, but I know I need to do this.”

“So then you’ll choose him?”

“I’m not choosing anyone, Kento did you not hear!? It’s to help me annul the marriage! To mitigate the insane consequences-”

“And spending that time with him, you’ll have no annulment, surely you’ll end up right in his bed.” You gasp now, and he curses, shaking his head.

“You’ve accused me of being a whore a few times now, granted you may be right, but you should have said so that day I told you. Rather than us…”

“Do you regret it?” He asks softly, and you shut your eyes, struggling as you feel nausea rolling in waves in your tummy.

Do you regret it?

Should you have left him that day, instead of letting this go further, letting his feelings get deeper?

“I do not regret the action, or choosing you, but I do regret not knowing how deep your feelings were, and hurting you by not sharing them fully back. I regret ever, ever hurting you. I regret ever talking to you that day-”

“Don’t say that!”

“Why, it’s how you got involved. I’d rather have wallowed in my self pity, perhaps just-”

“I don’t regret it, anything about you. How could I, when you’re the best I have ever had? The most beautiful?” You’re so drained, now, you cannot focus on his words, it’s as if there’s a throbbing in your entire body, as your throat gets tighter and tighter, and you’re rubbing it now.

“I should not have slept in your bed. Not while I was with him.”

Nanami scoffs at that. “He’s slept with half of London, you blame yourself!?”

“Yes, because now I’m no better. Nanami… here.” You’re taking off his necklace again, and he’s shaking his head, handing it back.

“Stop that, please. I’m still in-”

“We will talk later on, with cooler heads. For now, you keep this, for someone far better might require it.” You choke up as you speak, as you hand him the necklace gently, and he curses, pulling you to him, kissing you again. Something feels so desperate about it, like how Satoru kisses you.

Satoru, always on your fucking mind.

It’s not right to have him on your mind with Nanami, you’re not giving him your everything, and he’s giving you his absolute heart and soul. “Don’t do it. I cannot wait for you.”

“I do not want you to wait. I understand.”

“So you’ll break me?” He whispers, and you look away, eyes burning from your tears. “Break my heart, walking out this door, when you know you should be with me, you know how I’ll give you everything.”

“I don’t deserve your everything.” You break away then, and he’s behind you, pressing you against the door, hugging you tightly, burying his face against your neck. “Nanami, please let me go, please forget me.”

“How can I forget you, when my every waking moment is spent thinking of you, wishing you were in my arms, in my home? Knowing you’re with him, knowing he’s horrible to you. Knowing you’re not apt enough to… you don’t know enough to handle him.”

You blink a bit then, tensing in his hold. “Are you saying I’m not smart enough?”

“No just not… just stay, please? Or you will end me here completely.”

“I don’t want to end you! I never wanted to do this to you. You will not understand my decision, you may hate me for it, that’s fine. It’s what I’m owed for hurting such a beautiful person. A beautiful soul. So Ken, if I never see you again, if you find someone so much better, just know I will always care for you, and always be thankful. But this is best for you. You know it is.”

“You’re so foolish, Duchess.” He says with a sigh, finally backing up, allowing you a moment to breathe then, and you laugh without humor.

“Perhaps I am. I appreciate everything you have done, and respect any decision you make. Should I run into you again, I hope to see you smile.” He brushes a tear from your cheek then, turning your face towards him, pressing a kiss on each cheek.

“I see. Then I only hope you do not end up burned by your decision. I can no longer save you from it.” He says then, and the finality of it along with his tears devastated you.

You’re ruining something so good, but you must let him go.

Perhaps forever? You do not know.

Just yesterday you’d bought into the dream, of being happy, but you can’t take away Nanami’s happiness in the process. Surely he hurts now, but letting him go will allow him to find a true love, a woman that worships him just like he does, one that will love him so very much, as he deserves. Nanami Kento deserves everything.

“I wish you every happiness in this world. I hope I will become a distant thought soon.”

“You know it’s not possible to forget you. Good bye, Duchess.”

“Farewell, Nanami Kento.” You say then, and he opens the door, allowing you out, and you greedily suck in air as you do, on a foggy London morning. You feel your collarbone, the bare neck now, how quickly everything has changed.

You’re riding in the carriage later, replaying the conversation in your head. Nanami's words were not kind, but they were accurate. You are young, naive and foolish, and now you’ve likely lost him forever. All because you think that you should let him be happy, but he cannot see that now.

You want Nanami’s happiness, but you do not deserve it.

You did not deserve Gojo’s cruelty either.

But something about helping him, or understanding him…

You sigh as you shut your eyes, heading towards a man who ‘hates’ you, leaving a man that’s falling in ‘love’ with you.

Are you making a horrible decision?

Satoru’s POV

You walk inside the manor now, your cheeks puffy from crying, and your neck… it’s bare. The little gold necklace is completely gone, as you step inside, quietly walking up to where he is sitting at the dining room table, and he stands then, nervously assessing your face. He aches to touch you, but he’s so afraid, is he going to scare you, is he going to irritate you?

He used to care naught for such things, but now he longs to hold you in his arms, but what comfort would you find there? When he is the source of your pain, including what must have happened when you told your lover of his plan. Of course Satoru wants a chance before you’re gone forever, he does not deserve that chance, no, but he aches in his heart and soul for one.

“Is everything… Did something happen?” He asks, and you sit next to him then, not across like usual, surprising him.

“You’re asking me if I’m okay? Are you ill or something?” He snorts then, rolling his blue eyes, pouring you the nasty coffee you enjoy and handing you a cup. “And you’re giving me coffee? Are you seriously ill?”

“Can I try to fucking be nice?”

“Can you?”

“Insolent girl.” He sighs then, sipping his tea and watching you, your hands are shaking as you try to hold the cup, gloves soaked with what he presumes are tears. “Allow me?”

You pause then, your beautiful face looking up at him, lips parted, as he gently tugs on your gloves, revealing your delicate little hands. You say nothing as he holds them for a moment, as he sees that ring on your finger, he’s unsure why you wear it, when your marriage has been nothing for you. Five pretty little pearls on a gold band adorning your finger.

He wants to kiss your hand, how stupid, how foolish he is. What effects do you have on his psyche, on his heart, as he inhales your sweet scent, the scent that makes him ache with longing. You’re just letting him hold your hand then, as he watches emotions form once more in your glistening eyes.

“Thank you.” You say softly, taking the cup with a shaky breath.

“Why do you drink such a nasty beverage?” He asks then, and you blink just a bit, looking up at him.

“Do you actually wish to know?”

“That's why I asked.”

You sigh, setting the cup down, spinning the little rose gold spoon inside of it, before looking back at you. “I have asthma.”

Satoru is surprised then, eyes widening just a bit. “Asthma? Your parents never…”

“Yes, they did not want their daughter to be ‘not good stock’ as they said. What if I pass it to the baby and this and that. As if it’s so horrible, as if I’m less than for not being able to breathe.” Satoru remembers then.

‘Just breathe’

And the look on your face, incredulous, as you’d been clinging to your throat, then the pieces fall together, you’re always rubbing it, you have coughing fits he notices at night, always sipping coffee. And he, like a goddamn fool, has upset you over and over, probably making it worse.

“More reasons not to desire me I suppose.” You mumble, sipping your drink once more, and Satoru scoffs.

“What of it, you seem to have it under control, it’s not a flaw, it’s just… well, just who you are.”

You look at him in shock now, lips parted, and then you close them, clearing your throat, your lashes lowering over your eyes, casting shadows on your pretty face. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s nothing. So, what happened with your lover?”

You sigh, looking away, shutting your eyes, your breath catching just a bit, chest rising and falling. “I hurt him.”

“Hurt him?”

“Yes, by agreeing to this, but also… I had to let him go.” Satoru’s heart pounds then, for just yesterday he was so sure there was nothing he could ever do to have a chance. Not that he has one now, but some form of small hope blossoms in his chest, something he has never truly felt aside from that night in the carriage.

“You ended things?” He asks carefully, trying not to show how much hope was in his voice.

“It was necessary, I hurt him by my decisions. He has no trust in me. I’ve only served to disappoint.”

“Disappoint? He got so much of you, how did you disappoint?”

“I shouldn’t have even done it. It was rash and foolish. Now he’s completely heart broken, and all by my hand. I did not deserve him.” You cover your face now, your little sobs wrenching his heart. “I deserve nothing but misery.”

“What? Stop that. I…” Satoru’s tentatively reaching out for your back now, and you tense when he does, as he rubs your back up and down gently. “Is this… would you like me to stop?”

“No, do not stop.” You exhale, shaky as he pulls your chair closer, still rubbing your back. “Are you comforting me?”

“I’m sure I’m quite shit at it.” You giggle then, even through your tears, snorting with laughter as he pats your back now. “I’m so shit at it you laughed though.”

“Indeed, I did. Gojo, I would love to believe this, believe you can be kind, but I don’t know if I can. And I let such a good thing go, trusting you to keep our agreement, will you?”

“I will, if you want to end things, end things, however I can with our families. I will not make you stay.” Fuck he wishes he could, but he cares enough to stop keeping you in misery. You put a tentative hand on his thigh then, your touch burns through his trousers, it kills him how good it feels, but he stays still, watching you.

“I am trusting you, foolish as it may be.”

“I’m sorry you are… well, hurt. I can’t say I’m sorry he’s not fucking you.” You roll your eyes then, shaking your head.

“At least you’re honest.”

“I thought you loved sex so much?”

You worry your lower lip with your teeth now. “I suppose I embellished to hurt you more. I don’t know if I’m any better than you at this point.”

Satoru hates that he’s relieved. “You’re much better than I am.” He says quietly, as you fiddle with some stitching on his pants, his family crest, your fingers running around it, and fuck if it doesn’t make him hard, just that touch. God everything about you turns him on, just last night after leaving your room he’d had to make himself cum thinking about you.

What he’d said.

How you’d reacted.

“I told you about my asthma, tell me something. If we are to know each other somewhat.”

Satoru freezes then. “I will tell you something important if you can help me today. For now, I have something simple to share. I love horses.”

You smile then, so brightly, it stops his heart. “I also love horses. Do you enjoy riding them?”

“I do, it’s very calming, and freeing. There will be some for sale we may look upon while we’re there if you wish for one.”

“Oh, but I won’t even be here… long enough for…”

Stop those words, they kill him.

He already knows you’re almost gone.

“Well, you can take it with you if you choose, a gift from me. I notice your gift from your lover is…”

“Yes, I gave it back. He should bestow it upon someone worthy. This does not mean suddenly I’m yours, of course.”

“I know that.” He says softly. You nod a bit, standing and straightening your skirts, tilting your head a bit to look at him for a moment.

“I will freshen up and we can head to town?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

You smile again, so sweet and just a hint of one, but the way it makes you even more beautiful kills him. You head up the winding staircase then, and Satoru tries to control his breathing, tries to focus. He wants to make today and the rest of his time good for you, it’s the bare minimum he could do before you disappear, leaving a void he never knew was there.

He would need to tell you, explain, even if it makes no sense, even if it does not help him, purely because you deserved to know, at least some of what happened to make him treat you this way. Never an excuse…

Could he find the courage?

You two walk through the poor village, your hand rests delicately in his inner elbow, you look so pretty in your day dress, but when don’t you look pretty? Satoru wants to act as if this is real, that it’s no agreement, that it’s something true. Your face is scrunched up in worry as you look upon the acres of farmland and the conditions those are living in.

“Gojo… this is so… we must help them.” You look at him, your hand gently squeezing his arm, and Duke Gojo nods.

“Yes, I want to help them, it will be much more than a month of course, but I appreciate you helping at all.” You sigh now, as you all approach the main farmer that supplies the Gojo Manor with food and grains.

“Your Grace!” The farmer and his wife bow and curtsey, then look at you and do the same. “Your Grace!”

“No need to be so formal.” You say, and Satoru watches your soft smile as you walk up to them, they seem instantly enamored by you.

“We are here to discuss some better conditions, I know my father… was slacking when it came to this.” Satoru says, and they nod carefully. “Please, be honest with me so I may help.”

“Rest in peace to his grace.” Satoru tries not to snort. “But indeed, his short run as Duke was absolutely devastating to the villages, we had hoped that perhaps you would…”

“Hush, Richard!” His wife hisses, and Satoru holds a hand up.

“No, I need honesty. Go on.”

Richard sighs, wiping his sweaty brow. “The taxes have made it near impossible to do anything but break even, and we give as much food to the manor as we can, but here people are hungry” Satoru feels sick then, thinking of his conditions, thinking of how he let this all go, let all of this go because of his hatred.

“Cut the manor’s supplies by twenty-five percent, to start.” You say then, and Satoru smiles, as you look at him curiously, and he just nods.

“We could never!” Richard’s wife says, clutching the bodice of her old brown dress she wears.

“Indeed you may, we have a surplus. And Duke Gojo will lower the taxes as much as he can, it may not go back to how it was, but he can certainly lower them, yes husband?”

Fuck you’re amazing.

“Indeed, I will lower them… twenty-five percent.” He smiles at you, and you light up, nodding. Richard and his wife begin to cry, then they’re on their knees at your feet, you squeak adorably, yanking on them.

You bring everyone to their knees, don’t you?

“No, no! Get up!” You hold their hands and smile at them. “We will work on fixing this, you have my word. For now that will provide much needed relief.”

“You’re an angel, a godsend.” His wife says through her tears, and you pull a fancy handkerchief out of your reticule, handing it to her and holding her shoulder gently.

Fuck you are an angel. Satoru marvels as you start speaking to them both, and Satoru does not have to do much, not with you there, not with others around coming to you, and marveling at your beauty, and your kind nature. You are so gracious and sweet to every last one of them, taking your time as the Duke speaks to the men about the financials.

“Please make us a list of what you need. We can come and help with supplies or anything.” You say before you all leave. “Make a list for us, yes?”

‘Indeed. Oh, your Grace, you married an angel.” Richard says now, and you shake your head with a little smile.

“You’re… fuck, you’re incredible.” Satoru says as you all are waving goodbye and heading to the next person you must speak to. You blush prettily at that, looking nervously at the ground.

“You’re being so nice. It’s so weird?” He laughs a bit then.

“I was very nice once upon a time. Let’s say someone broke me. Like I clearly tried to break you.” He hates himself as he speaks, but you take his hand carefully for a moment, he feels the satin of your gloves before you pull away.

“I’m not broken just yet. Who's next?”

“The landlords of the village, I do need to speak alone to them, they do not respect women’s opinions. As if their wives aren’t smarter.” You giggle and the sound does things to his entire body. “Would you mind spending some time looking at the horses for sale as I convene with them?”

“Oh, of course. I will meet you there.” It’s so easy to pretend you both are a couple, so very easy to pretend that Satoru almost believes it, and so quickly. When he does finish threatening the landlords and getting them to lower their rents, he finds you petting a beautiful white horse and feeding it an apple. You look back at him, your curls bouncing as you grin.

Fuck, his heart stops completely, as the rays of sunshine bounce off your skin, making it glow, and he wishes upon anything he had not been so horrible, so foolish, because now all he will get are glimpses of you. There would be nothing else, once you are gone.

“Come here, look at her, she’s a beauty!” You say with a laugh, and Satoru takes a breath and comes over then, petting the horse’s face gently, she looks up at him with big brown eyes.

“Quite a beauty. Is this the one you want?”

“You cannot buy me a horse-”

“Why not, it’s a trifle to me. At least enjoy… before you leave.” He mumbles then, as the words hurt to say. You look at the horse carefully, then look at Satoru, smiling so cute, he watches your face light up. Today he’s seen you smile so much, he does not think he ever has before, not after what he’s done.

Is this who you are?

“That is most generous, Gojo. Thank you.” You hug him before you seem to think better, easing back with a tighter smile. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. Let me purchase it, we can have her tied to the carriage.” Satoru purchases the horse and can’t stand how adorable you are, it causes some twinge he can’t place.

Satoru had long thought you so beautiful, long wanted your body, long enjoyed how you challenged him, your strength and confidence. But now he’s noticing every little thing you do, every gesture, every soft smile, everything about you, constantly endearing you to him. He should not get so close, so hopeless, knowing you do not want him, knowing you can never be his.

How can he fall for you now? When you’re not his, even if you’ve ended things, it’s not as if you suddenly would forgive and forget what Satoru’s done, especially in just a day or two. His problem last time was that he did not give you time, he just expected things to happen, as things always have for him, as a Duke, but you were not some conquest or some quick thing.

You are so much more.

Should he have hope, or is he a fool?

Now you all are in the midst of a little fair, where there are all sorts of villagers dancing and laughing, and you look up at Satoru then, sighing. “Although they’re so very underprivileged, don’t they seem so happy? So much more happy than…”

“Than you?”

“Than us.” You answer, and he sighs, nodding.

“They do seem happier. Perhaps finding the joy in community, in lovers, in family, whereas we just play our roles. Though I suppose your role will end soon.” He can’t stop the hurt in his voice, and you notice, blinking back emotion. You shouldn’t care, why do you still care at all?

“Perhaps. I know I would find joy in children, in family. Oh, hello!” A little girl runs up to you then, practicing her curtsey, making you giggle.

“Princess, Princess!” She says to you, and you look like one, don’t you, it’s why Satoru says so. You are straight out of some fairy tale, and Satoru is some beast you’re stuck with, surely.

“Aha, I am a Duchess, so very close. He is the Duke, so almost a Prince!” She points to you, and he chuckles a bit, shaking his head as you bend down, uncaring of the dirt at the bottom of your skirts. In fact you seem more alive here than you ever have at a dance or at the manor.

Satoru watches you light up then, as you stand up and hold that little girl in your arms, with the biggest smile on your lovely face, fuck it lights everything up, a sight he never thought he’d see near him. Not when he brought you so much pain before, so much so he detests himself for it, for clearly dimming this beautiful, bright soul you have with so much darkness.

Your little laugh is precious as you hold onto the kid, playing with her ringlets, and the kid grins so big back at you. “You so bootiful Dushess!” She speaks, and even Satoru smiles, he can’t help it, the kid is so genuine, and you’re so adorable with her.

“Me, beautiful, oh thank you, but you are such a beautiful Princess!” You say to her, and then you take off that little blue tiara you have, putting it on her little head as you sit her down on the ground. The little girl lights up, running to Satoru then, tugging at his lapels.

“I is a Pwincess!” She says with a big smile, and Satoru can’t stop his chuckle, adjusting the tiara worth far too much to be something for play, but then he notices you watching him, smiling at him so big, nodding.

God you’re beautiful.

You’re just glowing as you whisper - “tell her she is one”

Satoru sighs, leaning down on his haunches now. “You are indeed a true Princess, look at you! Can you twirl?”

“Twirl? Hmm!” She spins and he laughs, then takes her tiny little hand in his, spinning her instead, and she giggles like crazy, then Satoru looks at you, your hand on your chest, your eyes glassy as you smile.

“There, Princesses twirl like that. Let me show you with the Duchess. May I, my lady?” Satoru walks to you and bows at the waist, you blush so pretty as you give him a delicate curtsey.

“Indeed, you may, Prince Gojo.” She teases, winking at the little girl, who is bouncing up and down, as other kids come up with their parents, smiling at you both. Satoru takes your little hand in his big one, the other on your waist, realizing for once you are wearing short stays and not a corset, and he can feel your waist.

He has to take a breath for a moment, as he spins you, and then looks at the children with a smirk. “We need music!”

“Oh, let me sing!” One of the little kids says, and then they are all singing together, quite horribly, making you giggle as you look up at Satoru, and fuck you take his breath away.

Could you ever forgive him, care for him, stay with him?

The thought of you leaving makes his chest hurt so bad it’s like someone is ripping his heart out, to know he pushed you right into the arms of another, he hates himself for it. He wants so badly to know you, and he loves what he’s learned today, that you would be the best mother in the world. That you light up around children.

Perhaps your baker would have given you those, but for a heartstopping moment as you dance in his arms, in the middle of a poor little village with kids singing, he wonders if he’d change his vow to not have an heir, if only it was with you. If only you would stay, he would do anything for you now, anything to keep this smile.

He knows he has next to no chance, he knows he’s only beginning to repair anything, but you make him want to dream of it, make him want to try. As he dips you over his arm, and whispers against your ear - “A pretend kiss, Duchess?”

“You’re such a cad.” You whisper back, as he leans you back up to stand, eyeing your beautiful lips.

“For the children!?” He whispers, looking at them, then at you, and you sigh, looking up at him and nodding with a little smile.

“For them.” Satoru cups your face and plants a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips, and everyone is cheering.

“Royalty!”

“So in love!”

“So romantic!”

It’s not true, you’re doing this because he’s got you in an arrangement, because he’s trying his best to hold onto you, to just get a little bit of your attention and time before you slip through his fingers. But he feels you tremble in his arms, your arms wrap around his neck, and when you pull back you are flushed, smiling shyly, before you compose yourself and grin at the onlookers.

After you all had moved on and were walking back to the carriage, Satoru takes your hand, and you pause, before removing it, looking up at him. He sighs, his own hand at his side, as he burns for you, for your affection, something he pushed and pushed away. You sigh then, as you all get to the carriage, and look up at him, taking his hand.

You make his heart falter.

“Sorry, you’re trying to be so much kinder, I do appreciate it. But I’m too afraid that it’s a lie, that I have lost someone who loves me because I am foolish.” Satoru nods then, thinking of that man on you, swallowing down the sickness.

“I have one thing to say. If you would let me.” You take a breath, nodding then, and he cups your cheek, looking down at you, and feeling you tense, biting your lower lip. “I wish that was our first kiss.”

Tears form in your glittering eyes, as you suck in a breath now, looking away and your lip trembles. You shake your head, and Satoru’s heart is pounding, he’s never vulnerable, he’s so terrified, will you shoot him down, and how will he react? He’s so fucking scared…

“I wish that was our first kiss too.” You say finally, and he gasps, as you then turn away, and his hand touches your waist gently, helping you up into the carriage. He comes to sit next to you and you take his hand again, carefully with a small smile. “I wish we… well I guess it…”

“Yes. I agree.” You pull away but he pulls it back, and your eyes lock, the breaths loud in the carriage as it rocks gently. “I know you’re leaving me, but could I please enjoy this while I can?”

“Enjoy my hand?”

“Yes.”

You nod then, pulling back and taking off your glove, smiling as you hold his hand so carefully, now bare, your skin against his making him yearn ever more. “You mean like this?”

“Yes. Thank you.” He murmurs, holding your little hand, and you nod just a bit, as the sunlight filters through the carriage blinds, and Satoru thinks for once, maybe he could open up, he could try even if it’s going to end in his own pain. Even if you’re too far gone, he cannot give up. He has to try for you.

“Today was beautiful.” You say after a few minutes of quiet, and he looks over at you now.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Don’t… please…” Your voice breaks, and he sighs, shaking his head and turning to you now, still holding your hand. “Duke Gojo…”

“I should have told you from the beginning. That night, our wedding night, how beautiful you looked, your lacy little outfit, your hair shimmering.”

“Don’t.”

“You looked perfect, your body I can only imagine fully, I’ve just seen it in pieces, but I know it’s beautiful. I know your heart is beautiful. I saw you today, uncaring of dirt, treating these people as equals. I have never met a fucking noble like that.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“I gave you no credit until now. None. I was horrible.” He hates himself then, as emotion wrecks him, emotions he wants to keep in as he cups your face. You have little tears glistening down your cheeks. “I know you’re not mine. But it was so beautiful to pretend.”

You grip his wrist, as if to take it off, but you don’t, you shake your head at him now. “Why did you do this? Why did you cause this? Do you not understand, if you did not, I would have… fallen… I…”

“What?” He asks quietly, and now you take a breath and shut your eyes, as you speak words he thinks are impossible.

“Even now, after all you’ve done, I feel things for you, I don’t know if they are hatred, I have no idea, but they consume me. Consume me so much I had to let a good man go, because you’re always in my fucking head. I hate it, I hate it so.” You take his hand off then, and Satoru exhales, as you swipe your tears off your cheeks.

“Do you think of me?” He asks, and you laugh then, without humor, eyes glistening with a sheen of tears as you study him.

“You are like a plague, a sickness, I hate it. I hate you so much, Satoru.”

“Satoru?”

“That’s what you hear!? Not that I hate you, that I hate what you do to me!? That I can’t rid myself of you? Even when we’re done, I have no clue if I will, thinking of your body on me, thinking of your lips on mine, biting mine. When I had someone perfect, and all I desire is you. I hate it, I hate it.” Your words get hoarse, as your breasts heave in your bodice, as your cheeks flush with anger, or more.

Satoru scowls then, grabbing you by your waist. “You think you don’t constantly consume me? I told you I burn for you, I meant it, in every way. Not just your body, not just your face, it’s everything, everything about you making me fawn over you like some stupid schoolboy. Just by existing you destroy me.”

“You destroy me.” You’re crying fully now, and you shock him then, bringing him down to meet your lips.

You’re kissing him!?

Satoru has always kissed you, mostly when you fought, when you were so sexy when angry he could not stop himself, when you pushed him to the point he could not hold back any longer. But now you’re pouring your passion into his lips, and he pulls you against him, moaning into your lips, tasting your sweet lips, drinking you in, as you’re even closer against him.

You pull back, shaking your head at him, struggling to breathe. “I hate that I want you, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t!” You smack at his chest then, and he lets you, he deserves your hits he deserves none of your kisses, none of your kindness.

“I know you shouldn’t. I know.” He brushes your hair back, falling out of your perfect little coif, and you’re trembling in his hold, as he looks at you so lovingly, as the carriage is reminding him of that night, the night he tasted you.

“Why do I want you?” You are asking yourself more than him, as he’s right against your lips, as you breathe each other’s air, as he can feel your pulse racing under his thumb as he feels your little wrist in his grip. “I’m a whore, you’re right.”

“You are not a whore. I should have never called you that. I’m… fuck I’m so sorry for saying it, for blaming you. I just… I wanted to be your first.”

“You didn’t deserve to.”

“I know.”

You sigh then, head falling back as he pulls you into his embrace, as he feels you tensing, then relaxing in his grip, now one of your thighs is over his, and he’s slipping his hands up your skirt, inch by inch, watching you and waiting for you to tell him to stop, but you don’t. You’re just watching him, as he reveals your legs, clad in little white stockings with bows.

“Like the wedding night.” He murmurs out loud without realizing, and you shift, even closer, it’s as if you’re both drawn to each other like magnets, like he’s drawn to your gravity, and you his, as he’s consumed by images of you. “I should have given you a true wedding night. Not having you crying and hurt. You should never forgive me, never, for any of it.”

“I know I should not. I know.” Your hand runs down his chest then, as Satoru’s hand is even higher, and he finds you, soaking wet and dripping, and he moans as he feels you, so slick. You cry out, head falling back, hips rolling for more. “I should not want you. I hate it. I hate you.”

“You should hate me.” He whispers, as he slides a finger in your tight entrance, watching your eyelashes flutter, as your breath quickens, and you whimper from the back of your throat, making Satoru so hard he can’t stand it, it’s painful. When he leans down to kiss you again, lips hovering. “Let me make you cum, please, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Fuck it means so much to him though.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, I’m stupid.”

“So am I. But you’re not stupid, it’s… something between us, I’ve never felt it, even with my… with my ex. Ever.”

You look up in surprise, but then just moan out loud when he finds your clit now, and he can’t stop himself, he’s dragging you on his lap, you’re straddling him, as he fingers you, as you’re soaking his hand. And you’re clinging to his shoulders, kissing him desperately, messily, unpracticed still but fuck you’re good at it, as he pumps his fingers in your eager little cunt.

“Fuck you’re beautiful.” He whispers, enamored by the goddess on his lap now, and you’re clenching around his fingers now, gasping. “That’s it, cum Princess.”

Your POV

Satoru makes you cum right on his long fingers, so easily, so hard you’re blinded, as your entire body overheats, and you’re trembling in his hold, as he presses you down now, and you feel it, his length so hard and pressed between your lips. You moan out, grinding and rolling your hips, and fuck you want more, you can’t take it, when he looks up at you with those blue eyes.

When those elegant fingers unlace your bodice, and he’s sucking a nipple into his mouth, pressing up, and your head falls back, as waves of pleasure roll through your body, then he’s kissing you again, and you can’t think, you can’t function. You need Satoru Gojo like you need air, and you’re horrible for it, for wanting him so goddamn bad.

You break away and his pretty lips pout, thin brows draw together. “Please, it doesn’t have to-”

“It means something. It does, and I don’t know what it fucking means. I don’t know anything, Satoru.” You can’t help it, but feel vulnerable in his strong arms, and he’s cupping your face so delicately.

“You can still leave me, I understand. Just let me please you again, and again, until you pass out from pleasure, until-” Gojo’s desperation, his pleading, and his stupidly pretty face do you in.

You’ve fought it so long and you’re weak for him.

“Fuck it.” You pull back then, to his shock, unbuttoning him eagerly, and his eyes are wide in shock, as his own breaths hitch, and you find his length with your hand, stroking his pretty cock, watching his own head fall back.

“Oh my god I’m fucking dreaming.” He whispers, as you’re stroking up and down, feeling his hot skin, he’s so hard for you, and he’s kissing you again and again, moaning into your mouth. “Fuck I could cum just from that. Pathetic for you, fuck you.”

“Fuck you, fuck you. Hate you Satoru.” You whisper, then he scowls at you, gripping your hair.

“Should fuck that bitchy mouth.” His aggressive words just turn you on more, and he stops himself. “Fuck I shouldn’t say that, I’m sorry, I’m trying to-”

“Fuck my mouth then.” You say, earning him sputtering at you, before he’s pushing you down on your knees in the carriage, and he’s shoved his cock in your mouth, and you’re so wet it’s stupid, as he groans, hitting your throat.

“Fuck, feel so good, slutty throat, isn’t it?” You just nod, pathetic like he is, you want him to call you it, you love his cock hitting the back of his throat, love him moaning, whimpering above you as he’s cupping your face. “Oh my god, fuck.”

“Mmm.” Is all you manage, as you’re playing with your pussy under your skirts, aching for him.

“So slutty, you’ll play with yourself? No.” He yanks your hand off now, sucking on your fingers and groaning. “Only I can touch you.”

You pull back then, letting him go with a pop of your lips, eyeing the precum on his tip, before looking back to Satoru, glaring. “Only you!?”

“I want to fuck this attitude out of you.” He whispers, as the carriage stops then, and you realize what you’re doing. You hurriedly run out, leaving him to adjust himself and chase you, you can’t breathe, fuck you can’t… “Please, please… don’t leave, don’t run from me. Please it can mean nothing if you want. Just use me.”

“Use you… what… I…” Satoru stops you in the halls again, pressing you into that wall he’d had you on before, barring you with his arms on either side.

“You can still go. Just please, give me this moment, I have never wanted someone like this, I’ve never needed someone like this.” You shake your head, trying to come to your senses as he’s consuming you. “I’ll just make you cum, you don’t have to touch me again.”

“I liked touching you, sucking you! Fuck you for that!” You shove at him, and he exhales, so tall over you, so beautiful as his face is so close, as his hand slides to your bodice, undoing it lace by lace, and you’re on fire for him.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You do!”

“I don’t. I hated you because… fuck… you look like someone, who hurt me, okay? Just like her.” He’s cupping your face, and you blink in surprise, feeling him open, feeling his vulnerability. “It’s no excuse, and I can explain more later, but please, please let me keep touching you, I know I don’t fucking deserve to, but please.”

Satoru finally confirms what you thought.

You want to know more, but your addled, overheated mind can only think how much you want him. “It doesn’t mean I’ll stay. It doesn’t.”

He’s unlaced you fully now, and unzipping your skirts, letting them fall to a pool at your ankles. You’re in just your chemise now, nothing else, and in the middle of the manor, where any servant could walk out. You are on fire everywhere he touches, everywhere he kisses, as he picks you up now, your stocking clad legs wrapped around his hips.

“I know. I know. Let me have you cumming on my face again, let me drink every bit of you, please. There is no one I desire as you.”

“Liar, liar!” You cry out as he’s kissing you again, as he’s grinding his hips and pressing against you. “Liar.”

“I was a liar. I was. Not now. You are a madness, a black hole, sucking me in every minute you breathe.” You can’t take it, as you’re letting him carry you, as he’s shutting the door to his room, and you glare at his bed.

“How many whores came on it? I won’t fuck you on it.” You say then, and he grins like a little shit head.

“You are going to fuck me?”

“No!”

“Hmm. They’ve been cleaned. But I can fuck you on the wall, like a pretty little slut, is that what you want?”

You scoff, shoving at him. “I don’t want you. I don’t like you. I hate you.”

“Mmm, I know, Princess.”

“Not a Princess- fuck!” Satoru’s slipped off his coat, his shirt, and you drink in his perfect body, as you slide your chemise down now, and he’s staring at you, dropping to his knees, mouth dropping open.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. Every bit of you.” He presses kisses on your tummy, as you feel emotions consuming you when he pulls down your stockings gently, as you feel Satoru’s energy taking over, as you cannot stand hardly from just his breath against you.

“I should not want you. I should not. I hate myself for it.”

Satoru looks up at you, his blue eyes swirling as he inhales you, mouth kissing your pussy just the slightest bit, making your hips jerk, as he throws a thigh over his shoulder. “I hate myself for hurting you. I hate myself so much.”

His words break you, you can’t stop the tears, of desire, hatred, confusion, of everything, of his vulnerability as he kisses your inner thigh, biting it hard, and then the pain makes you even wetter. “I hate myself and I hate you.”

“I hate myself for making you hate me.”

“Fuck… fuck just…”

“Just what?” He raises a brow, and you glare.

“Just…” You press his head against you now, and he moans, tongue lapping at you as only he can, as if he knows every spot, every inch, fucking you with his tongue as his nose bumps your sensitive clit, then he’s sinking two fingers in, and you’re cumming embarrassingly fast, as he drinks you. “Satoru!”

“Oh my god.” He groans, vibrating you as he continues fingering, looking up at you. “I can do this all fucking day. Nothing else.”

“Mmm, liar, you liked me sucking you.” He smirks then.

“Are you talking shit to me, insolent brat?”

“Sure am. Fuck you for being that good at this. Ah!” He’s sucking on your clit now, humming on it until your knees get weak, and you knock him down to the floor, eagerly grinding on him again, and he flips you on your back, the cool marble against overheated flesh, hovering over you.

You can’t speak then, not when he’s covered in your slick all over his face, not when he’s shoving two fingers back in, watching you fall apart hungrily on his goddamn floor, and you’re writhing under him. “Want to be fucked on the floor, maybe you are just a pretty little whore.”

“Oh fuck you, Mr. I fuck the brothel. Hate you.” He chuckles then, pulling out his fingers and sliding them in your mouth then, making you choke out as you taste yourself.

“Shut you up. Ah!” You bite his fingers now, and Satoru winces, shaking them off and laughing like a psycho. “Evil little bitch.”

“Cruel, mean ass fucking Duke. Hate you, mmm.” Satoru’s cock is at your entrance, and you’re cumming just from it rubbing on your clit, he gasps then, his jaw clenching. “Mmm!”

“Cumming from that, are you so pathetic, Princess?” He whispers, and you glare up at him, on your elbows now, he shoves you down, thigh high over his arm, and he looks at you, eyes darting back and forth on your face. “Ready to actually get fucked, like the pretty slut you are?”

“All talk, aren’t you, bet you- ah!” Satoru’s cock has shoved fully inside you now, and you’re shuddering as you try to take it, as he’s filled you so full, and he pauses then, lips parted, looking down at you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, leaning lower, a hand sliding up your ribcage, his forehead resting on yours for a moment. “You feel better than anything. Perfect.”

For once, the word does not hurt.

Because Satoru feels perfect inside of you.

“So tight. So wet. Oh my- fuck-” Satoru slides out, then back in, and you’re screaming out at it, at how he’s grinding his tip on your cervix, something you’ve never felt, so intense you’re shaking. “Beautiful.”

“Oh shut up, fucking… don’t make me like you… just… fuck me, ah!” Satoru’s stroking in you now, and your head slams into the floor at how good it feels, as he’s moaning over you, kissing down your throat, your breasts, fucking you harder and harder, so hard it hurts, but you want it you want- “more, more.”

“So slutty, need to get fucked good huh?” You say nothing, and he slams into you hard, and you’re cumming again, so intense you can’t see, everything goes blurry, and he then is pulling out, making you whine. “Cock hungry, aren’t you?”

“Fuck off, Satoru. Fuck-” He picks you up now, throwing you on his bed, and slamming back into you, groaning as he rolls his hips, as he snaps them into your pussy over and over, and you’ve never felt that good. You’re losing yourself in him, in his cock, his hands, his lips, his everything.

Just physical, it has to be, you can’t love him.

You can’t, you won’t, you never will.

You’re stupid.

But fuck his cock is wrecking every thought you had, and where Nanami at this point would be done, this psycho is just getting started it seems, as he’s pulling both your legs up, fucking your deeper. You’re clinging to his blankets desperately as he pumps, and your head is going side to side.

“Gonna fucking ruin you, Princess, for anyone.” He whispers, shoving your thighs against your breasts, and you’re gushing all around him, as he pumps so deep. “Make your cunt mine.”

“It’s not yours. It’s not. Ah! Mmm!” Satoru’s turned you then, and you’re on your tummy, panicking, looking up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Gonna fuck you like this, Princess. What, thought you were so experienced, huh?” He slides his cock in as you’re on your tummy, and he’s so deep like this, you feel him everywhere. He takes you over, as he buries his head against your neck, biting it, his hand sliding low as you’re shattering, unsure of your existence.

“It’s too much, too much.” You whine out, and he laughs then, psycho ass duke, rolling his fingertips on your clit, and you can’t take it, your head falls back, and he’s got a hand around your throat.

“Too much, Princess? What he couldn’t fuck you like this?” He shoves in so deep while he’s squeezing your throat, you feel like you’re floating. “You like it, me choking you, don’t you?”

“Fuck you.” He smiles against your cheek, his silky white hair tickling you, moaning into your ear then, sounding so sexy it pushes you over the edge.

“Feel her pulsing around me, fuck she wants my cum, doesn’t she? Slutty cunt, fuck I almost would just to feel it.” His words are madness, as he keeps squeezing, as he’s slamming his cock inside you, and you can hear the squelching wetness as she sucks him in, greedy for more, until your orgasm rocks you. “Oh fuck, that’s it, Duchess, that’s it. Cum all over me.”

“Hate you, hate you.” You whisper out, but you hate yourself, because you have never felt this good. He’s tilting your head now, slamming his lips against yours, in a mind numbing kiss, his cock working you over and over into oblivion, your walls clenching around him, you hate how you can’t imagine not having this.

“Could’ve been doing this, fuck I’m stupid fuck. I hate myself.” He huffs the words, then your eyes lock, and your vision blurs on his pretty face. “Best I’ve ever had, ever.”

“Liar. Manwhore.” You kiss him brutally, a hand reaching back to pull his hair tightly, and he moans at that, fucking you harder, each thrust smacking your ass, making it jiggle.

“Little slut. Wanna be fucked mean, don’t you?” He fucks brutal then, slamming your cervix, gripping you and gasping. “Oh my god, cum again, fuck cum again. Slutty fucking cunt gripping me too good.”

“Fuck you, Satoru- ah!” You scream out as you do cum one last time, fuck you’ve lost count, you’re weak and going numb as he thickens inside you, pulling out then, jerking himself into his hand, whimpering as he cums, hunched over as if in pain, and you carefully sit up, watching him breathlessly.

Satoru’s hand is covered in thick white ropes, so much of it, still pouring out of his pretty pink tip, his eyes fluttering shut, lips parted. You’re trying to catch your breath at what just happened, you feel as if you’re going to fall off the edge of the world. He looks at you then, as you look at his cock, fuck you could suck him again, he tasted so good, how does his cum taste?

Why do you think this way!?

“Let me… don’t leave, please?” He pleads, and you nod a bit, as he comes back with a washcloth, carefully wiping you, lovingly almost, what a joke, studying your pussy carefully with a smirk.

“What?”

“Beat her up.”

“Oh god.” You smack at his hand then, rolling your eyes. “You’re such an immature man. Boy I should say.”

“Boy, huh, how many times did you cum?” You’re blushing then, as he’s leaned close, kissing your lips once more. You bite him, glaring. “You’re so adorable mad, you know that?”

“You vex me so.” You push him off then, trying to catch your breath, as the reality sets in.

Nanami was right.

You ended up right in his bed.

As if reading your mind, Satoru sighs, brushing your hair back. “I’ll still allow you to leave, even if we’ve consummated the marriage.”

You look at him in shock then. “You will?”

“I gave you my word. I don’t want you too, but I will not hold you here if you still want to then. I swear it.”

“But why?”

“Because you deserve that choice, the one not given to ladies. You deserve to leave me for what I did.” He blinks away tears, lingering on his white lashes, and you break into pieces, falling deeper into his gravity, into his black hole.

He seems to feel you’re his black hole.

How do two black holes work? Do they destroy each other?

“I must… I must go.” You say softly, and he shuts his eyes, resting his forehead on yours now, nodding.

“I don’t want you to go. But I understand. I wish I could… bloody hell this is stupid. Wish I could hold you.”

“Hold me?”

“Yes, I ache to hold you every night. But I’ve brought it all upon myself. Thank you, for this. I did not deserve it, did not deserve to feel you, and your tight little pussy, watch your beautiful face, touch your perfect body. None of it. Thank you.”

“You’re thanking me?”

“Yes.” His eyes lock on yours when he pulls back, and you can’t put two and two together.

“I can’t trust you yet.”

He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I know.”

“If I fall, you’ll just get a new mistress, flaunt her, you’ll-”

“There will be nothing after what I just felt with you. You’ve ruined me, Duchess, ruined me forever.” His words are hoarse, and so easy to fall into you have to pull away, shaky as you stand, he has to steady you. “Do you want to know more about her?”

You nod, you’d been so overwhelmed you could not remember anything for a moment. “I would, yes.”

“Get rest tonight, I will share with you tomorrow, after we take care of more pressing issues with the village.” He slides your chemise on, and touches your shoulders with his hands, even that action makes you ache for more, as your pussy throbs from his cock still, aching in ways you never have. “Thank you for everything today, even if it’s just once.”

His eyes, his face, his lips, his vulnerability, it’s too much. You lean up then, as he bends down, kissing him, letting him hold you. “I shouldn’t have.”

“You shouldn’t have, but you did. I’ll dream of it.”

“Shut it, Satoru. Fuck you vex me.” You kiss him again, before dragging yourself away, taking several breaths. “I still hate you.”

“You should.” He takes your hand, kissing it then. “There’s no excuse for anything I’ve done. I will never be able to make up for it. But I hope… tomorrow you’ll understand me more.”

“I hope I will as well. It was all I ever wanted.” Your voice breaks, and you turn away then. “I bid you goodnight.”

“Good night, Princess.” He pulls you back, tilting your chin up, kissing your forehead, and you melt from it. “Thank you.”

You cannot speak, you just leave quietly, back against the large wood doors, eyes shutting as you try to compose yourself, as you try to understand what happened, but there’s no words for it. You’d loved what Satoru did, you’d loved his cock inside you, loved him biting you, calling you a slut, loved him taking you from behind, consuming you utterly.

You are shaking as your Nan prepares a bath, and you can’t even speak to her, as you sink into the hot waters, remembering every bit of his touch. Is that what sex truly was, when you felt so much? Nanami had been so sweet with you, Nanami had professed his love, begged you to stay, but you left him.

You’re horrible.

Because Nanami isn’t even in your mind, unless you force him there, unless you make yourself think of him. It’s all Satoru Gojo, your mean husband, a cruel man who had destroyed you, a man that had fucked women right in front of you. A man that had pushed you to lose your innocence, when perhaps you would not have so quickly, perhaps you’d have thought better.

If he did not destroy your mind, your psyche, your soul. But you wanted to forgive everything when his pretty face looked at you like that, when his eyes gave you that gaze that made you feel so desired, like you were the only thing that existed for him. Nanami had never looked at you like that whatever the fuck that was.

You should scrub Satoru Gojo off you, but instead your mind is filled with images of him, that sweat dripping down his straight nose, his lips reddened from your kisses, the way his eyes rolled back when you sucked him. Instead you relish in it all, in a man you’re going to leave, in a man you don’t know, that made your body come to life.

You sink into the tub then, into the water, scalding hot, and you hope it burns you alive, as you scream out under the water in frustration.

What the fuck were you doing?

A/N: Lots of people are torn on this story, as they should be! Some people don't like the Duchess, she's not perfect as perfect characters bore me, I like complex ones. This was always a gojo/reader even if I really am confusing and hurting people lol. Love ya'll who enjoy my mess, Nanami isn't gone from the story by the way!

Taglist : @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions  @chiyokoemilia  @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @peppertoastuniverse @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka  @labelt-san  @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @webshooterrr9 @miizuzu @thikcems @erensblackwife @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @airandyeah @jaylenezzz @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @teacupwaifu @makingtimemine @saccharinesatoru @sunnyviewsblog @nanananananaiknow @spookyblackhottie @ekaterinatepes @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @szna

Until the next one, dear masochist readers

Part Ten

[tenshi-agerasia]

in-universe alien stage mechanisms and the use of colors in round 7 (a luka & till rant ft. mizi & hyuna)

it's generally agreed that alien stage can be interpreted as a metaphor for the kpop industry, and as someone who did tons of studying (because of my 3d fav) on how performances work in c-ent, i noticed some things on my nth rewatch of blink gone

meta-wise, the colors in the mv are green (to represent till) and purple (to represent luka). this combo works really well for the song, but is there an in-universe explanation to the lighting? yep:

take a look at the scoreboard. even in-universe, green represents till and purple represents luka. taking the idol theme more literally, we can also assume that these are their official colors. i went back to the TOP 3 video and well well well guess what appears during luka's part

the lightsticks, the projected neon signs, the same kind of mask (?), the stadium lights. we can reasonably assume that this purple is luka's official fan color and represents support for him.

and guess what color almost all of the crowd is repping during round 7 through lightsticks and masks?

that's right, overwhelmingly purple. don't forget that the winners of each round of alien stage are decided by live in-house voting, and audience members will always be biased towards who they're a fan of. remember that luka is insanely popular and already won a season, so his fanbase would be larger, more developed, and more devoted.

till was, for a lack of better words, cooked. he was doomed to lose from the start, because how can a few of his fans outvote the majority?

i've seen some people theorize that the result was rigged, and i completely disagree: you cannot fake support on this large of a scale. "oh, but the color of the lightsticks are controlled by the organizers" then explain the masks, a clear fandom symbol

also, from my experience in survival shows, vote counts in the final round are usually hidden until the results are announced, which explains the wobbliness of the scoreboard bars like they're inflatable tube men in front of a car or mattress dealership.

an alternative explanation to the lightsticks is that it represents the current vote, but i'm not inclined to believe this theory because, again, the masks. like real-life idol performances, i think that this is just a show of support from the audience.

back to the meta: mizi's appearance in the crowd is a reinvigoration of determination in till, and in terms of color, she is a break of bright green among the sea of purple. she not only stands out because she's someone he loves, she is visually a breath of fresh air for him.

do you think, in those last moments, he was not only happy to see her alive in front of him but to also see her wearing his color?

in this part where they're reaching out to each other, the pink-purple light that seems to be shining from mizi is representative of how she's a beacon of hope for till. in-universe, however, till is just moving towards the audience, the close proximity of the lightsticks illuminating his face with color.

mizi and till are surrounded by this vibrant purple, a symbol for luka. even with mizi's more pink-ish radiance, they are literally in his territory, at the mercy of the system that he has been through and learned to play along with.

the same can't be said about luka when he sees hyuna again:

the warmth of his fan color disappears, replaced by a colder indigo. the audience, his fans, the aliens that he knows how to use to keep himself alive mean nothing to him right now. it's this cold feeling of shock that makes him so unsure of how to react.

in this moment, he is no longer luka the performer, luka the idol, luka the twice winner of alien stage—he's just luka. he's vulnerable to emotion, an unfamiliar thing, and he's so painfully human.

luka: (sees hyuna) holy shit it's you... mizi: till is literally dying behind you luka: this ain't about him

another detail: these shots were never shown in the mv so i'm assuming they're taken by in-universe cameras (see the red flashes in the audience), especially because of the angle (downwards pointing perspective)

[indecisivemuch]

Foolish Ones

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: What if...there is a Prom at Camp Half-Blood? Aka, a story where the both of you are just blind fools who finally crossed the line between friends and something more (best friends-to-lovers, angst, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke, HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE!!!)

Note: Not proofread thoroughly. Idk, thought it would be funny if Prom was a thing at Camp Half-Blood. Sorry for the long break, I've been really busy but Easter break is coming soon! Inspired by a couple lines from "Dress" by Taylor Swift.

Word count: 3.8k

Despite the abnormal life of being Demigods, campers still buzz in excitement at the announcement of a prom happening at Camp Half-Blood. Never would they think that that would be a thing. But now that they knew it was an upcoming event, talks, gossip and bets started infiltrating every corner of the camp — who do people think would ask who to prom, who would reject who? After all, they were all still teenagers.

There was one thing that neither you nor Luke knew: the bet with the leading amount of participants was on the two of you. Some theorized he would take up this opportunity to finally confess his feelings and ask you to be his prom date. Some people bet that you would be the one to do the asking. Others claimed they had zero hope because it seemed like you two had been dancing on this line of something and nothing for too long that they could not remember when it started. 

Now, where to even begin on you and Luke. You were his first friend at camp. Despite the fear of opening up after the Thalia incident, it somehow felt so easy when it came to you. Then came your five years of friendship, and somewhere in between, glances turned to looks of longing. It became so evident that if you were to ask any campers about it, they’d have something to say — perhaps theories on when this all began or speculations on when the two of you would finally cross the line. Yet, somehow, the two of you were the only people who did not know of this slow-burn mutual pining.

The announcement of Camp Half-Blood’s Prom was in April, with the date of the event happening mid-May. You have rejected two prom date offers solely due to a pinch of hope that your best friend would ask you. You were hoping all his little actions that you sensed as things beyond the line of friends were true. But as time ticked, your confidence slowly diminished.

It was now the beginning of May, and that slight hope that Luke would ask you has now been reduced to the size of a grain of sand.

“I don’t think it’s gonna happen, Clarisse. Prom is two weeks away,” you sighed, hands on both sides of your face.

“Well, why don’t you ask him instead?”

“I would have…but by now, if he has not asked me, that probably means he is not interested, so I don’t see the point in doing so myself.” Gods, it was slightly exhausting for Clarisse to watch the both of you pine after each other for years only to stop right at the boundary of stepping into something. She watched as you sunk into some kind of self-spiraling moment. It was evident on your face that your brain was trying to convince you that Luke only felt platonic things. Sometimes, she believed you both must be utterly blind to not realize how the other felt.

“Well, I think—” Clarisse stopped when she saw you look behind her, mouth slightly agape with a shocked look. She smirked at this, almost letting out a breath of relief that Luke finally asked you to be his prom date. The girl turned around to face the sight that you were looking at, but she almost jumped upon seeing what was behind her. “Oh…?” The response left Clarisse’s mouth before she could think twice.

There he was, standing with a singular rose in his hand and a nervous look on his face.

“Y/N, will you be my prom date?”

The whole area was silenced. You were convinced other campers could even hear your thoughts in this deafening quiet. Gods, you could even feel their eyes glued onto you like hawks waiting on their prey.

In front of you was a boy from the Hermes cabin. Honestly, you did not even know his name. You just remember seeing him around occasionally. 

No, it was not Luke.

A short laugh left Clarisse’s mouth before she could stop herself, but she quickly did upon seeing you look in her direction. But to Clarisse, it was obvious, especially when you and Luke have had this long history of mutual feelings that everybody could see — Surely, the boy knew better. You have even turned down two others —

“Yes, I’ll go to prom with you.” Murmurs among campers came as soon as you said those words. You swore you heard gasps as well, though you ignored it as you stood up to take the flower from the boy’s hand. You gave him a half smile while deliberately ignoring the confused look Clarisse was sending you.

Somewhere between realizing there were merely two weeks before prom and getting asked out by this Hermes boy, your brain has prompted you to say yes. Your mind finally convinced you no good would come along with crushing on your best friend, not when he was not interested in you, and neither were you planning to be a fool to wait around any longer. Maybe getting asked out by other guys were signs you should move on. 

You could feel your heart aching and screaming at you to take your prom proposal acceptance back, but you ignored it. You have made up your mind. You knew moving on would hurt, especially after liking Luke for such a long time, but you deemed the pain as a necessary part of the process.

Little did you know, in the corner of the same area, stood a frozen figure.

Luke was standing still where he was emerging from with his breath stuck in his throat. His heart sank at the sight of what he had just witnessed. The boy's eyes fluttered as if hoping he could blink away the sight before him. However, as the situation sunk into his bones like claws digging and ripping through his skin, Luke let out a chuckle of dejection. 

“Luke?” Chris called out. Though upon seeing the sheer look of sorrow on Luke’s face, Chris tried to comfort his friend, “Come on, you can—”

“I can what? It’s too late, Chris. I took too long...” The Hermes cabin counselor looked down at his and Chris’s hands. He blankly stared at the poster he had made yesterday, the bouquet of your favorite flower that he had hand-picked for you, a box filled with gifts, balloons and photos of you two. 

If only you knew Luke had spent the last month preparing this prom proposal. He snuck out of camp multiple times to buy the things he needed, including hunting down the items you have always talked about. He wanted it all to be perfect because, to him, you deserve nothing less. Hence, it took him so long to ask you to prom…too long. 

Luke shut his eyes and let out a deep breath. He shook his head before deciding to hand everything to Chris, who was spilling out words of encouragement. However, realizing they were useless, Chris stopped. His eyes widened when Luke muttered at him to just throw away all the stuff that was now in his hand. Before he could object or change Luke’s mind, the Hermes cabin counselor had already vanished to clear his mind. 

Left alone, Chris looked down at all the stuff in his hand and sighed — Oh, you two were blind fools.

For the next two weeks, camp seemed duller from the lack of interactions between the two of you. The bet among campers was nullified since no one had bet that either of you were going with anybody else. They were so sure the two of you were meant to be.

Just like the rest of camp, you have felt off. You haven’t seen Luke since the day that boy asked you to be his prom date. It seemed almost like your best friend had been avoiding you, though you ruled it as his counselor duties filling up his schedule, especially considering prom was tonight, maybe Luke was helping with setting up the event.

You made your way back to your cabin to get ready, though you felt uneasy because of a negative feeling looming over your mood. You remember being so excited for prom when it was first announced, even anticipating it would be the night you had the most fun in your life. Yet, here you were, foot feeling heavy while heart feeling disconnected. You stopped in your step as you spotted a familiar figure, and the feeling that was weighing you down lifted slightly.

“Hey, stranger,” you could not bring yourself to say his name because you knew doing so would make your own heart tug. His name has somehow become part of your vocabulary — a word so endearing that it warmed your heart and brought a smile to your face every time you said it. You knew learning to unlove him would be a hard task, but not having him around felt was also daunting, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with counselor duties,” being best friends meant being able to pick up the slightest of signs that something was off, and you could hear the alarms ringing in your head. You started picking your nails but stopped when you saw him eying your hands. Curse his ability of knowing you too well.

Luke’s eyes softened at your nervous habit. He wanted to hug and comfort you over whatever unease you had, but the boy knew that would do more damage to his heart. To be so near you and knowing you didn’t like him that way. After all, you rejected two guys before agreeing to that one specific boy. Surely, that must have meant you thought the guy was cute or something.

“Oh, well…” you paused before quickly blurting out, “I’ll see later, then?” You could hear your brain scowling at your heart. You wondered if you seemed desperate.

Meanwhile, Luke felt his heart soar at the thought of you wanting to see him, yet at the same time, it ached. He felt pathetic, really. But nevertheless, he was willing to take anything you were willing to offer him, even if it was just a small glance his way. 

Luke wanted to mock his own heart sometimes, calling it sadistic because how could it want you so badly that it was willing to hurt itself doing so? Yet, deep down, the boy knew if crushing his own heart into pieces would bring a smile to your face, he would do exactly so. Gods, you were going to be his demise.

“Yeah, see you later, Y/N” he answered, and you quickly waved him goodbye before entering your cabin and going towards your bed. You sat down on your bed, feeling the mattress sink while your heart also did the same slightly. Something has changed between the two of you, and you hated this awkwardness looming around.

Your eyes landed on the dress you bought a month ago. Your eyebrows scrunched whilst trying to ignore how your heart was aching.

It was in Luke’s favorite color. 

~~~~~~~~

Shawn, your prom date was a nice guy. He gave you a flower and said you looked pretty, and you thanked him before complimenting him back. Then, the two of you joined others around the campfire, swaying along to the music while engaging in small talk. You tried your best to ignore the feeling that was weighing down your chest. Though, you could not help but zone out from whatever Shawn was saying.

Luke hated knowing Shawn and knowing he was not at all a bad candidate for you. However, Luke also hated knowing he could be better than Shawn and could offer you so much more if only he had done so sooner. 

You looked ravishing tonight. Luke felt as if he had been bewitched at first sight. You left him stunned and speechless. Every inch of you left him mesmerized. 

Oh, your dress was in his favorite color. His heart leaped at that as his eyes lingered on how the fabric hugged your body. It’s been an hour since you arrived, and Luke’s eyes have not left you at all, as if they were made just to look at you and nothing else. Even with the music and conversations around him, he could only focus on your occasional laughs and murmurs. He sighed in longing at the thought of having you in his arms as the two of you danced the night away, leaving this one night branded in his heart as one that would redefine his life. Instead, here he was, a spectator rather than the lucky one. 

Luke looked away, trying to breathe out the envy that was overfilling every organ in his body. The boy knew he was to be blamed for the anguish he was drowning in, but he still despise the situation. Luke felt his chest was hollow like an empty glass frame with only his crumbled heart hanging up to be displayed, and worst of all, everybody could see it. If he could, he would abandon his Demigod life to go build a time machine. 

Oh, the despair of losing something and someone he never had. Maybe your acceptance of Shawn’s prom proposal was Aphrodite telling Luke to move on. However, that was the last thing he would ever do. He’d much rather love you in the dark forever instead.

You have re-painted his notion of love and rearranged his understanding of it. Now, whenever he even remotely thought of the word, he could only seem to think of you. Luke could not fathom thinking of anybody else ever when thinking of love.

Luke turned back to where you were, hoping to steal one last look before leaving the event. He thought that maybe this was it. Perhaps it was time to forever close the door on the idea of ever letting you know of his feelings. However, his heart quickly hitched when he saw that your eyes were already on him — those eyes that could talk him into doing anything. 

He wanted to turn away, he really did. But how could he be the first to break eye contact? Gods, you were his Achilles heel, and forever would you have him at your disposal, even if your heart does not belong to him.

His mind started rewiring. You hadn’t stopped looking at him, and the expression on your face was enough to spark a speck of hope in him. But like always, anything related to you would spread through his heart, mind, and body like a wildfire that he never had bothered to put out. 

Before Luke could think about it, his foot took him towards you and through the bodies of people dancing. By the time he reached you, he was not sure if it was the campfire or the nerves that were heating up his cheeks. 

“Can I steal Y/N for a second?” Luke spoke as Shawn spotted him. However, the second Shawn saw the look on Luke’s face, something seemed to click in his mind. He turned to you next, and that was when he knew it was time. There was no competition here, at least from Shawn’s point of view. There was a love story, and it was clear as day who you were meant to end up with. Part of him knew of this even before asking you out, yet he wanted to give it a shot anyway. But it was time for him to step away, and Shawn did it without much bitterness. He nodded and patted Luke on the back before walking away.

One of your favorite slow songs started playing, and Luke smiled when your eyes glimmered at that. Luke felt that heavy feeling in his heart lifted for the first time in two weeks. He never realized the extent of it, but just seeing you happy was enough to make him feel the same. You mirrored Luke’s smile, letting out a small sigh of relief when noticing he was no longer distant. Gods, you missed the way both his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and that’s how you knew he meant it. You were elated at the thought that maybe things are returning to normal for you two.

“May I have this dance?” Luke offered a hand to you. There was something so sincere in his voice that caught you slightly off-guard. Though, you brushed it off like always, still convinced that your best friend did not see you that way.

Before you knew it, the two of you were swaying while giggling along with the song. You almost snorted from the jokes Luke was whispering in your ears while Luke would proudly smile at himself when you playfully hit his chest from his cheeky comments and remarks. You both swayed to the music that was slowly fading away. He softly leaned his head on yours, closing his eyes with contentment as he caught the smell of your perfume, which would always linger behind, leaving traces of you every time you departed.

The song finished, but Luke’s feet continued swaying despite the silence between songs. He would dance until his legs deteriorated if that was the only way to keep you near him.

Oh, to have you but not have you. It felt as if somebody had cut Luke’s heart open and sprinkled salt on the wound. It hurt him, but nevertheless, he looked at you like you were the only one that he could imagine himself being with. His eyes lingered on every detail of you, swallowing them whole as if he intended to make you the subject of all his paintings, like an obsessed artist.

“Luke?”

Luke closed his eyes briefly as his breath quivered at the sound of his name on your lips. You said his name, and his world just stopped. It has been a good two weeks since he had heard his name from your lips, and it suddenly reminded him how much of a desperate man he was when it came to your words, your touch, your looks, and everything that had to do with you. He was utterly defenseless.

“I don’t want you like a best friend,” Luke breathed out before he could think twice. Realizing what he had just said, he decided right then that he wanted you to know everything. He wanted to let you look into his heart and understand it has always been yours.

“What?”

“I want you—I want to be yours,” he spoke, tripping over his words as his mind spun around what to say next. There were too many things he wanted to say, and he desperately wanted this moment to be perfect. 

“I really, really like you, Y/N,” he spoke, hoping it would send the exact message he was trying to convey. “Like in a hopeless and irrevocable way… it’s driving me insane.” He added, his voice slightly shaking, though his heart burned when you didn’t reply. 

“Please say something,” he whispered, any bit of courage he had earlier evaporated faster than he could imagine.

Your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. His words has seemingly took all your breath away.

He wanted you. 

You almost laughed at how pathetic it was that both of you had been sulking the whole night over something that could have been avoided if either of you had the guts to speak up. Just an hour ago, you were so determined to get over him. Yet, here you were. This moment felt like having your dreams come true and unsure what to do with it. But deciding enough time has been wasted, you wrapped your arms around his head and pulled him down towards you.

Luke met you in the middle. His breath trembled slightly as your lips met his. He immediately put his hands on both sides of your face, caressing it ever so delicately like he was holding a national treasure in his hand. The boy felt his angst melting away, heart tangled in his throat as the moment rendered him speechless. If he could pick one singular moment to remember in his next life, this moment would be it.

You giggled as Luke unintentionally whined quietly when you pulled away. You mirrored his actions and set your hands on the sides of his face. Your thumb rubbed his face before uttering, “I like you too…” You watched as a grin grew on his face, and you mirrored it, quickly adding, “In fact, I think I like you a little too much.”

“Gods, you don’t understand how much I like you.”

“I’m sure we’ll have time later to find that out,” he grinned at your words.

The sound of someone whistling pulled you both from your little moment. Turning both your heads, you saw Chris with a big folded piece of paper, balloons, flowers, and a rather big box. Luke let out a chuckle in disbelief. He was grateful his friend did not follow his words and threw away the items. 

You watched as Luke left your side for a second to grab the box and muttered something to Chris. The other boy unfolded the paper, and your eyes widened slightly at the sign.

“I was gonna ask you to be my prom date, but Shawn beat me to it,” Luke approached you with your favorite flowers and the box, opening it to let you peer in. When your eyes landed on the things in there, your heart almost melted. Some of it was your favorite treats, a small photo album of the two of you, and gifts you always mindlessly said you wanted to have. Some were hard to find, and the thought of him going out of his way to hunt down these items warmed your heart.

“It’s too late to ask you to be my prom date now…but I do have another question I want to ask,” you looked up at him, and the way he looked at you right at that moment made you realize you were screwed forever because nobody would ever measure.

“Will you be mine instead?” Luke watched as you smiled at his words and took the flower out of his hand.

“How could I ever say no to you?” you pulled him in again, and Luke, once again, sank into the kiss like an addiction he welcomed with open arms. 

Oh, you were the best thing that ever happened to Luke, and he was never intending on letting you go.

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

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[makos-ribcage]

Knew. ㅡ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

[] Silco x Reader. Getting flowers.

𓇼she/her

warning ! mentions of murder.

word count- 1.6k

this is just my coping mecanism bc i never get flowers, also i rlly like silco, i wanna write smth about him that isnt just me coping w my depression

edit: made 70 spelling mistakes, dont write ur fics while playing lol

Its been a while since you’ve been working under Silco’s hand. He hired you to fix certain issue he entrusted a piltie to deal with, but of course, it was a failure.

When you first met him you thought of making fun of him because of trusting a piltie, but you knew better than making fun of your soon to be boss, better yet, The Eye of Zaun.

“I heard you need some help.” Was the first words that came out of your mouth when you suddenly appeared in the middle of the afternoon on The Last Drop, closed, and filled with security. Mediocre security at best, totally useless at worst.

He wasn’t surprised to see you there, he wasn’t dumb. He knew you were coming.

A certain rat around the corners of Zaun. You were everywhere, you knew everything, no one knew how, but he knew you knew.

“Took you long enough.” He pulled two glass cups from under his desk.

You managed to know when any baron needed help, reaching out to you was almost impossible, but you would appear when needed, as if Janna herself would let you know.

People theorized you had people informing you, that you would buy information, whether with money or with other services. But you were just a very good watcher, you were even better when it came to putting information together to come to accurate conclusions.

Of course, buying information also helped a lot, but with money, nothing else.

Once you got hired you did played around of the idea of him trusting a Piltie, watching the wrinkles between his eyes form when he got too stressed was funnier than you would want to admit.

You knew stuff, and he needed someone who knew stuff, someone who knew how to find out about stuff

It was enough proof that you were capable of working for him since you already figured out he needed Jinx sister gone. “She’s been getting close with someone, if something’s done to her, she’ll be gone, at least for a while.” You stated right away, knowing he knew. You sat down at his desk calmly, feeling the old leather stick to the sweat on your legs, making a mental reminder to wear long pants next time you came over.

“Can you do it?” He said firmly after pouring liquor for both of you.

“Can you pay me?” You replied, with a big grin on your face.

You were trustful, that was certainly the best part of your service. You’ve worked with almost every chem-baron out there, you knew stuff very few people knew, and they trusted you wouldn’t tell.

And you wouldn’t, you were hard to catch, easy to let go, but you wouldn’t tempt your luck.

After that you’ve been working under Silco’s hand, he suddenly knew where you lived, which places you were a regular at and your routine. But it was no surprise he was eventually going to figure out all that, if he didn’t know already.

You considered most chem-barons and any figure of power at the uppercity lame. All looks and wouldn’t get anything done. They were dumb and temperamental, making poor decisions whenever something didn’t go like they planned.

But you knew Silco, you knew how much he would plan ahead. You knew that people feared him, and for a good reason. So you respected him.

You would do any kind of jobs. Murdering someone, figuring out more information, delivering certain information to hard to get places, anything that would get you money.

But for the first time in a while, the job stressed you.

Jinx was hard to deal with, hard for Silco, harder for you. You needed Vi far away from her, yet most of the time you couldn’t figure out what would be her next move. And you didn’t want to exchange many words with her, you had a short temper, and she was definitely insane, nothing good could come out of there.

Your work consisted of figuring out Jinx next move, make sure Vi would be nowhere near and try to see if you can make sure she could busy herself with Caitlyn. Dropping around trails without end, making a mess on the upper city, anything to keep Jinx away from Vi.

You weren’t sure why Silco needed her away from her sister, but you weren’t being paid to figure out that, one day you definitely will, but for now it wasn’t your priority.

It’s been months since your first meeting with Silco, even though he’s primarily your boss, you grew up to be genuine friends too.

It was difficult to make good friends in the “industry”, but you had fame of being trustworthy, and you knew if he got to have that much power it wasn’t by snitching. You still feared one day he would just decide to sell you, but you trusted he knew you could do that too.

Not only the trust was there, the chemistry was there too.

You didn’t had anything in common. He would try his best to appear collected all the time, trying to make sure everyone around him was afraid, afraid of what he could do and how he would react. Unpredictable.

You’d try all the opposite. You needed information. You would try to look sympathetic and even miserable if needed. Lie and deceive people so they feel powerful enough to believe you won’t do anything with the information they’re giving to you. Superior enough that they believe you won’t dare to betray them.

But he found amusement when you’d react so differently to situations. He has seen you completely change personalities to pull out information out of people. So he found enjoyment into seeing which parts of your personalities where actually you.

He could easily spot yourself when you were angry. You’d bounce your knee anxiously, you’d pay no attention to what he, or anyone, is saying.

When you were specially happy it was easy to spot you too. Instead of smiling wildly you’d scrunch your nose and cover your mouth with your hand.

On the other hand, you found himself entertaining. You enjoyed watching him reason and jump into conclusions that were always correct. You liked when he would get annoyed at something but he would control himself, knowing that getting too angry about it would be exaggerating.

He would open his mouth as if to say something, close it right away and lean back into his chair, often a lost strand of hair falling in front of his forehead.

You both got used to spending time with each other late at night. While he stopped working,  you started doing your own work. He was used to working during the day while you focused more during the night.

The Last Drop was already closed, you were sitting at the bar, just thinking. Playing with the rim of your now empty cup. You needed to figure out what was Jinx going to do next. To be sure of being there beforehand and make sure Vi or Caitlyn weren’t there.

You could use his help, but he trusted Jinx blindly, and you couldn’t try to reason with him because he would get all angry about anyone doubting Jinx abilities, you learned it the hard way.

You heard the calm and collected steps of Silco becoming present, walking towards you calmly. You didn’t turn around to face him. Your eyes focused on the little notebook you’d use to write down people patterns. Of course you had a few pages dedicated to Silco.

“I think she will do something at the Vander statue… What do you think?” You said calmly. Turning around calmly and meeting with a bouquet of flowers.

They looked exactly like Silco. A mixed of dark red lilies with a few white ones, dark chrysanthemums around the bouquet to fill empty spaces, you could see a few dark branches with white petals that you couldn’t really name.

You stared at the bouquet in confusion. Then raised your eyes to meet with his face, staring him down even more confused.

He looked calm and collected, as always. “It’s your birthday.” He simply stated, remaining still.

You made the first move to stretch your arms towards him and he placed the bouquet in your hands.

It was light. Flowers weren’t a common thing in Zaun and with a closer look you realized some of them were already withering. The petals seemed weak and the leaves having a few black dots around the edges.

You didn’t cared, you never received flowers before, and being a zaunite you knew how difficult they were to get. “You look… Troubled.” He seemed to find a more pleasant word than whatever he wanted to call you first.

“I am.” You said. “W…Why?” You stared at his eyes, still confused.

Now he seemed offended. “It’s your birthday.” He stated once again, as if it was obvious. “It was only proper for me to give you some sort of gift.” He accentuated the last word.

And it made sense. Flowers as a gift suited someone like Silco. Classical, elegant, gentle yet loud enough to make a statement.

But you didn’t remember your birthday at all, you didn’t expect your boss out of all the people to remember, let alone to give you a gift.

It was true you were starting to get a more personal relationship. Long nights drinking next to each other, enjoying each other silence, he would enjoy hearing you talk about your other jobs, you making sure to not provide too much information.

But once again, it suited Silco. He was attentive with details, and you thought that was limited to his job, but it made sense it was just his personality.

You remained silent and he seemed to be losing his patience. “If you don’t want them, you can give them back.” He spoke. You immediately stared at him with a frown.

“No way. I like them.” You answered, he relaxed his shoulders.

He remained silent for a few seconds. “Good to know.” He simply stated.

[toxicrelief]

Crawling Back to You

Chapter seven

Synopsis: Rex and Rudy have come together to theorize about your real reason for joining the team. But none of that matters, because now you're standing in Rex's room, alone, with a bottle, asking for forgiveness.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Chapter: 7/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: Alcohol, Mild Description of Wounds

Note: I have a love-hate relationship with Rex chapters. But they are good for plot and I love seeing a man confused.

“What is that?” Rudy’s gaze sweeps over Rex’s torso.

“The new kid just did this to me. One punch.” Rex admitted sourly, his eyes following Rudy as he walked over to his robot counterpart.

“Is that the only hit she landed?”

“…no,” Rex responded slowly. How incompetent was he coming across right now? It was suddenly very apparent to him that he just got his ass beat by the newbie.

“Interesting.” Rudy put a hand to his chin, turning as one of his robots began to scan Rex. “So, she can control it. Whatever it is.”

“Do you think it is enough?” Re questioned, lowering his shirt with delicate precision. The shock was wearing off and all he could think about was the heavy throbbing and how every move hurt like hell.

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Killdeer landing that hard of a hit after admitting to having minimal practice is good evidence that she is capable of something beyond healing, but it is nowhere near concrete enough substantiation to bring up to the team.” Rudy began to type furiously on the computer that resided nearby. Pictures of Rex’s wound flash by on the screen, leaving Rex with a weird feeling after not seeing the camera. He eyed the motionless robot exoskeleton but stood up to read over Rudy’s shoulder.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Rex finally said, he was more than happy to spy on and report findings about the girl, but to what end? The wound he was sporting already felt like plenty of evidence to get her kicked to him. But the more time he spent with her the less passion he managed to evoke at the idea of her absence. He didn’t like her when she first arrived, but he didn’t like Monster Girl either. She ended up being a pretty good addition and he even respected her. Why was he having such a hard time swallowing that Killdeer might be just as worthy as the rest of them?

He scoffed to himself at the intrusion of the thought. She had never even been in combat before yesterday. There was no way she was nearly as prepared as anyone on this team. Minus Shapesmith, but no one really knew what was going on there. Is no one looking further into that whole situation still? Now that Rex thought about it, maybe he was getting too distracted by you to think about someone who was just as much of a threat and much more prominent on the team.

“I’m not sure.” Rudy shrugged. “I am close to getting access of footage that I think should reveal something. So far all I have been able to find out is that she has excessive records related to hospital visits, but she never stays more than a day. Hypochondriac maybe.”

“She doesn’t seem like the kind.” Rex stated flatly even though he was by no means an expert in this area.

“It is a long shot, but my running theory right now is that she can both heal new injuries and bring back old ones.” Rudy turned to Rex, his computer dimming as soon as he did so. “Have you ever been injured that badly in a fight in that exact region?”

Rex thought for a moment. He had been in a lot of fights, and it was very difficult to say. In fact, Rex was not sure there was a single part of his body that had gone untouched through all his years of combat. So…probably?

“I think so?” Rex pursed his lips trying to think about it more fully.

“It is just a running theory.” Rudy reiterated.

Rex could hardly focus on the conversation at this point. The pain was only amplifying and with every moment he spent upright he was starting to convince himself he was going to retch.

“Well let me know if you learn anymore… I’m going to go lay down or…some shit.” Rex did not wait for a response before trudging towards the exit of the room. His feet dragging slightly on the hard metal floor.

It was a blur. He could hardly remember making it up the elevator and into his room. But now he was lying down, his back straight against the mattress and his gaze on the ceiling. As long as he did not move it was not so bad. The biggest problem, at the moment, was he had to move to breathe. So, with every breath, a sharp pain ran through his chest.

He should have let her heal it. He sighed lightly, sending another stabbing pain through him. This shouldn’t take too long to heal right? The look on her face once she saw it kept playing through his mind. Either she was a phenomenal actress, or she really was completely dumbfounded at what she had done.

He laid for a minute just running over secret intentions she might have. Theories coursing through his pain-addled mind. But no matter how much rationalizing he did he still came back to her shock. The genuine apology she attempted to give him. It just all didn’t make sense.

__

If he thought he was in pain last night, then he must be in a living hell today. Upon sitting up he immediately knew he was not doing anything today. Rudy must have informed someone Rex was going to be out of commission today because it was at least four hours after when he was meant to be in the training room, and no one was coming to collect him. That was until he heard the first knock.

Rest time’s over. Rex sat up, scooting to the edge of his bed, with full intentions of pretending he had been up for hours to whoever was at the door.

Probably Immortal.

He groaned in annoyance, the end of it forced out of his lungs as a ripple of hurt ran through him. He put his head in his hands for a moment, now very aware of a headache forming behind his eyes.

Another knock.

Oh god.

“One day off dickhead!” So much for pretending to have been up. Either way, he hoped Immortal would just fuck off. Go hide in some backroom with Kate like a bunch of horny teenagers. Gross.

The door opened and he didn’t immediately look up. His thumbs digging lightly into his eyelids, trying to relieve a bit of the pressure from the oncoming migraine. Usually by now Immortal would have started to lecture him for not taking the Guardians seriously, fooling around when he had a ‘God-given duty’ or something like that. That sounds like something he’d say.

Rex didn’t really listen when the Immortal spoke.

But it was quiet, with no lecture and no feeling of judgment. The silence felt loaded, tense.

“I said-!” Rex started to snarl, turning his gaze directly towards the perpetrator but the words died in his mouth. “Oh shit.”

“Hi.” She said with an awkward smile.

Rex’s mind went completely blank, he was so prepared for an argument over failing to fulfill his daily tasks that he was now not sure now what to say. His eyes trailed over her body down to her hands that were holding a bottle in front of her.

A better view than he would have had if it had been Immortal.

“Hi.” Hi!? That it!? He squinted slightly at his nonresponse. Why was she here?

“I feel really bad about yesterday and I don’t want it to be a whole thing.” Ouch. Glad she’s so broken up about it. Guess she wasn’t as shocked as he had thought she was. If he was feeling more himself maybe he would tell her to get out. Leave. Begone. All tempting, but she was holding liquor. And maybe he wanted to see her. He was still convinced this might be a side effect of her powers. Maybe a kind of mind control.

“A whole thing?” He raises an eyebrow and leans back. She rolls her eyes but closes the door behind her. Was she making a move on him? He sits up a little taller, his mind running once again.

No… Right?

Girl comes to your room alone. With drinks. And a very awkward demeanor about her.

“That’s not what I meant.” She says to his previous question, holding out the bottle to him.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” He smirks, looking her right in the eye. Her slight smile immediately dries up. Damn it. Not getting laid.

“I’m saying sorry.”

“You said that already.” He tilts his head slightly, still analyzing her face.

“I know.”

“Multiple times.”

“I know.”

“I said to leave it be.”

“I know.”

He swept his gaze over his room for a second as if checking it was indeed just the two of them.

“Yet here you are, alone in my room, offering me a drink?” He grins, very obviously trying to drop hints.

“Don’t let it go to your head, it’s cheap.” She says dryly, practically dropping the bottle in his hands. He sighed while turning it over in his hand. Disappointing. Kate folded fairly quickly to his charms, why did it seem to have close to no effect here? The brand he recognized though, and it was not that cheap. Promising. Maybe she was secretly interested. Or he was making a complete ass of himself, either way. There was a crinkled yellow bow tied to it, it was fraying at the ends and looked extremely manhandled.

“Nice bow.”

“Thanks, it cost extra.”

Rex looked up from the sad-looking ribbon and watched her as she quickly took an interest in different things around the room. Maybe he should have cleaned up a little. She stopped in front of pictures he had haphazardly taped to the wall. Eve had sent them to him after their breakup and one night after drinking a bit too much he decided the walls were too empty.

She paused looking at a picture of him and Eve. A drink sounds pretty good right now, and that migraine was really starting to set in. After getting the bottle open, he took a long swig. “So… was there anything else you wanted?”

She briskly turned around, her eyes immediately landing on the bottle. He felt a little uncomfortable now, what time was it? Too early to drink?

“I-”

Rex straightened up slightly and immediately felt the searing pain in his chest he had been able to forget about for a few minutes.

“I want to fix that.” Oh, fuck off.

“No.”

“Why?”

How about I don’t need your damn sympathy! He gave her an annoyed glance, but he was already considering it.

“How do I know you’re not going to make it worse? You did the fuckin’ thing in the first place.” He grumbled, knowing it was a pretty weak argument, but he felt the need to put up a fight. Pride motivated probably.

She takes a few steps forward, obvious annoyance radiating off of her. “Rex, be serious for five seconds, I was brought on as a healer. Why not let me do my one purpose huh?”

“One purpose my balls.” Probably shouldn’t have said that. Rudy wouldn’t be happy to know he was being overtly suspicious of her. Or maybe it would be more suspicious to not act suspicious of her?

“Very mature.”

“Look, I just don’t want it okay? Back off.” He grits his teeth, but his resolve is quickly giving.

“It obviously hurts; you’ve been in your room all day-”

“No I haven’t who said that?” He all of a sudden felt very self-conscious at what her perception of him must be.

“Rae.”

“Ugh.” They seemed to be getting very buddy-buddy…

Suddenly she’s right in front of him, a look of determination on her face. She’s very close and he must look up to maintain eye contact.

His mind is blank again.

“Let me help you and I’ll leave, you won’t have to hear from me until the next time Cecil makes me come to Headquarters. Don’t let me help you and I’ll be back every day, and I’m taking that with me.”

Dilemma. If she came every day, then she might do something that Rex could relay back to Rudy. And…he’d get to see her every day. Not that that is something he wants. Definitely not.

But it also really hurts, and if it’s healed then he can get back into actual work.

“Every day?” He says with a sigh, not looking her in the eyes.

She nods and he looks away completely. Even just turning his head sent a shiver down his spine. Yeah, this needed to go.

“Will it hurt?”

“A little.”

“Are you lying?” He turns back to look at her again, examining her eyes.

“A little.” Of course.

He groans in annoyance and nods, but his expression completely turns to confusion as she starts to pull up a chair. Immediately he’s trying to stop her.

“Woah, can’t you just heal it from over there or some shit?”

“No.”

“No, you can’t or no you won’t?”

“I have to have direct contact with the skin.” Naturally. He bites at the inside of his lip, thinking. This was bound to be very uncomfortable. Sitting directly in front of him, after rejecting several advances. Maybe he could deal with the pain.

But to another point, if she can only heal with direct contact. Does that work the same way with the retrieval of old wounds? If Rudy’s theory was correct, then she was lying about needing direct contact. She had not needed it when bestowing the bruise on him yesterday. She had definitely landed the blow against his shirt, not directly to his skin. But if she was telling the truth, Rudy was wrong. It would be impossible for her to have enough connection.

“Are you just trying to get me to take my shirt off?” Last ditch effort. The look she is giving him immediately shuts that down and he sighs. Hopefully this doesn’t take long. “Fine. Jeez”

She positions the chair right between his legs, and he takes another swig of the bottle before setting it down. If she was anyone else, he’d probably find this hot. After managing to get the tank off, Killdeer moved closer, he didn’t even know she could scoot the chair any closer. Her eyes were focused, determined on the bruise. He could admit this did not happen often, even when he was sleeping with someone, they were not looking at him with this much scrutiny. Rex leaned back on his arms, trying to make a bit of space between them. Their eyes met for a moment and then she was immediately back to work. Her hand gingerly pressed against his chest.

His nerve endings were not working optimally from the injury, but he could feel her.

Her hand was cool, soothing, distracting. Then the healing process actually started. It felt like she was trying to pull his heart through his chest. It was a duller pain.

“The fuck?” There’s no way she is actually pulling his heart out right? That was fairly unlikely?

“I warned you.”

“Hardly!” He snapped back.

“You should feel what it’s like with a broken bone, it’s so much weirder.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Why are you assuming I’m trying to make you feel better?”

She has a small smile on her face. So, to some extent she must have been enjoying this, which filled Rex with indignance. But he was immediately distracted, after a few moments the pain was no longer as intense. There were sharp pains here and there, but it was nothing compared to what he had just felt. It felt like his senses were elevated almost. He felt…relief. That layer of exhaustion, the migraine, random aches from various injuries over the years, he couldn’t feel any of it. All he could feel was the cool of her hand splayed across his chest.

That feeling he felt the other night during drinks was back again to haunt him. He suddenly found he didn’t want to do anything but watch her. The way her brow pinched in concentration, the way her eyes moved slightly as she was obviously deep in thought. For a moment Rex feels like the biggest piece of shit. Was he really content trying to get her removed from the Guardians? She hadn’t done anything to him. Well, nothing she could control.

“Why do you hate me?”

She didn’t even look up, just kept her focus on her work.

“Who said I hated you, Joy?” He said it softly, he knew why she thought he hated her. And maybe he did sometimes.

“You’ve been rude to me since the day we met. You don’t even call me by my real name.” She glanced up but Rex didn’t look away immediately. She looked genuinely hurt.

Rudy’s suspicions flashed in his mind, grounding him for a moment. He tore his gaze away, reaching down to grab the bottle and take another drink.

“You don’t deserve to be on the Guardians.” Every time he said it, he meant it less, but at this point, he did not know what else to say.

“And that’s it?” She says with a tone of incredulity in her voice. “Something completely out of my control and you use that to hate me?”

“You could tell Cecil you don’t want to be a part of it-” He doesn’t finish, her gaze snapped back to her hand. A look of anger ghosting over her features rather than the semi-peaceful look of concentration.

Several moments pass in silence and Rex debates what to say. He doesn’t owe her anything. He really doesn’t. At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

“I don’t hate you.” He couldn’t believe he said it as soon as it left his lips. But it didn’t seem to matter. If she heard she showed no sign of it. All his mind could concentrate on was the fact she was touching him. And how much he didn’t want her to leave. She could yell at him, bruise him again, he didn’t care. For some reason, he didn’t want her to leave.

And then she was done. He could feel it. Even still, she hesitated. Her hand did not immediately leave his skin, slowly tracing a small line. Rex blinked a few times, letting out a quiet exhale. In what felt like an instant she was standing and putting the chair back.

As soon as her hand was gone the exhaustion returned. He ran a hand over his chest, noting how it was back to normal.

“I don’t hate you.” He repeats again, suddenly desperate for her to know.

She pauses at the door, an unreadable look on her face. As she’s closing it she says:

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

__

Rex is in the training area, it’s very late. But after a day of laying in bed he suddenly has a lot of energy. With each punch he is landing on the boxing bag his frustration is rising. He wasn’t sure when Killdeer would be back, but it was bound to be a few days at least.

The sound of the door opening broke his concentration, and he turned his head suddenly to the source.

“Oh god.” He muttered grabbing his towel to dry his face.

“You don’t own the place. Stop making it weird.” Kate said with annoyance, making her way over to a different machine.

“I’ll stop making it weird when it stops being weird. Which it won’t, ‘cause Immortal is like a million years old.” He retorts.

She rolls her eyes, as one of her duplicates grabs her weights to put on the barbell bar. “Oh please, because you’re so hurt about it. I saw the new girl waiting outside your door with that wine bottle or whatever it was. You obviously didn’t have much trouble finding someone else so let me be.”

“What?” Rex bristled, maybe a little more than he should have. “Nothing was happening.”

“Sure, Rex. Just like nothing was happening when Eve found us in the showers.” She gave him an incredulous look. “I’m honestly not surprised though. You can’t see anyone without trying to get in their pants.”

Rex glared at her but didn’t say anything, returning his attention back to the punching bag.

“I’m just surprised she’s so easy. Didn’t quite peg her as the type but I guess you can never really know huh.”

“Knock it off, Kate. We didn’t do anything.” Usually, he would take this opportunity to pretend he just had that good of game. But it was irking him that Kate felt so comfortable as to say something like this. At least he said shit about Killdeer to her face.

“Then why was she at your door?”

“You ever think she might just be being friendly?”

“You don’t do friendly Rex. You’re only nice to something if you think you can fuck it.”

“Fuck you.” Rex grits his teeth.

“You did.” She sighs before flashing him an unimpressed look. She then lays back to begin lifting weights, effectively ending the ‘conversation’.

Rex looked at the bag in front of him, he was angry, but suddenly there was no longer any appeal. He grabbed his towel and simply walked out. He didn’t need to fuck the new girl; they could just coexist, right? All while he was trying to get rid of her… nothing abnormal there.

Either way, he knew that what he had been thinking today while she was in his room couldn’t happen again. He was letting her distract him, and he was in pain. He didn’t like her. He just had to coexist. At least until she was off the team.

Author's Note: I kept trying to come up with reasons why pre-arc Rex wouldn't try to sleep with the reader. I really needed to channel his distaste just enough to keep the conflict but also keep him questioning. Show Rex I fear doesn't think anything through enough and so Kate ended up being useful for once in her entire life.

divider credit: @/ saradika

Chapter eight

[melancholy-of-nadia]

heart on the window #6 (m) | ksj

title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: Job hunting is inevitable as you want to be professionally employed again despite your secret camming side hustle with Jin. however, finally, you reached the final interview for a role you applied to at Netflix! But Jin wants to spontaneously also have a house/apartment party on the same day as well?! what kind of shit will happen as you juggle prepping and going to a big interview that could change your life and a party with friends after that might reveal secrets and have you thinking twice about your old childhood friend / housemate / camming partner? note: surprise again! uploaded this a day earlier since i somehow got time to edit and have this done! s/o to @daegudrama for continuously helping edit this mess of a fic. pls enjoy the climax ;) because its all downhill from here. warnings: HELLO! Another BTS MEMBERS cameo because bts know each other somehow in every universe, many more cameos, mild language, house party, this is the most tame chapter, job interview is a warning bc that triggers ME, yoongi being a lil shit, confessions, secrets revealed, jin is a simp, jealousy, namjoon kinda crushing on reader, drunk arguing, angst, drunk messy makeout, a lot of internal monologuing drop date: May 9th, 3:00pm pst word count: 11.6k crossposted on ao3 here <- chapter 5 | chapter 7 -> - -

Another day of streaming on Chaturbate, you sit perched on the living room couch in a maid outfit that leaves little to the imagination, your stockings tugging high against your thighs as Jin fusses over the setup.

“Hey,” Jin’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He’s standing in front of you now, holding a small ring light in one hand and a cable in the other. “Do you think this angle looks okay? Or should I move it closer to the couch? I’m trying not to make it obvious to people who have been theorizing Big Tuna Man is me.”

You glance up at him, then at the setup he’s been tweaking for the past twenty minutes. The couch is bathed in a soft, flattering glow from the ring light, and the angle seems just right—enough to highlight your outfit without giving away too much of the room’s details. You can’t help but laugh a little at how seriously he’s taking this.

“Jin, it’s fine,” you say, adjusting the frilly headband perched on your head. “If people are that obsessed with figuring out if you’re Big Tuna Man, they’ve got way too much time on their hands. Besides, it’s not like your ‘just chatting’ streams show this much of the living room anyway.”

He frowns, still fiddling with the cable. “Yeah, but you never know. The internet’s full of detectives. One wrong angle, and someone’s going to connect the dots that Streamer Jin is BigTunaMan.” He steps back, tilting his head as he surveys the setup. 

“You usually set up a green screen for your gaming streams on the couch, I think you will definitely be fine.” He shrugs in defeat and settles for what he got set up.

You scoot over to make room for him on the couch, and he sits down beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush. He smells like his usual mix of citrus and something warm, like vanilla. It’s a scent you’ve grown accustomed to, one that feels like home.

“So,” he says, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him. “I overheard you talking on the phone with your friend earlier?

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Oh yeah, that’s Yunjin. She and another one of my friends want to come over to visit me and have a little get-together of sorts. It’s been very overdue and we’ve been delaying it because they’ve been busy with work.”

Yunjin was supposed to come over months ago when you moved in with Jin for a house warming party, but with her being busy at her corporate job as well, it just never seemed to work out. Same with Wendy.

But it seems like they finally aligned and took this upcoming Friday off.

Jin hums thoughtfully, his fingers drumming a light rhythm against his knee. “A get-together, huh? That’s cute. But…” He trails off, his lips curling into a grin that immediately sets off warning bells in your head that he’s plotting something.

You narrow your eyes at him. “But what?”

“Why not make it bigger?” His grin spreads wider, eyes gleaming with a mischievous light you know all too well. “We could throw an actual party. Like, a real one. I’ll invite my friends, you invite yours. We’ll have drinks, music, food—the works. No cameras, no streams, just a good time.”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “A party-party? Since when are you the type to host anything? You’re usually the guest at other people’s parties.”

Jin gasps in mock offense, clutching his chest like you’ve just mortally wounded him. “Hey! I am perfectly capable of hosting a killer party. I just… haven’t had a reason to. Until now.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Right. And where exactly are we going to fit all these people? Your apartment isn’t exactly a mansion, Jin.”

“Details,” he says with a wave of his hand, dismissing your concern. “We’ll make it work. Come on, it’ll be fun! Don’t you think we deserve a night to just… relax? No work, no stress. Just us and our friends having a good time.”

You hesitate, your mind racing with all the reasons this is a terrible idea. It’s not just the logistics of cramming that many people into Jin’s small apartment—it’s the stuff. The things that have become a part of your strange, shared life here. The sex toys, the costumes, the equipment. The things that live in drawers, closets, and sometimes out in the open because you’ve both grown too comfortable to care.

“Jin…” you start, your voice trailing off. “You realize we’d have to… hide everything, right?”

He tilts his head, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” You gesture vaguely around the room. “The… production set up. The costumes. The toys. Unless you want one of your friends stumbling across a vibrator in the kitchen or tripping over your favorite handcuffs in the living room.”

Jin bursts out laughing, doubling over as he clutches his stomach. “Okay, okay, fair point,” he says between laughs. “We’ll do a full sweep of the apartment before the party. No one’s gonna find anything they shouldn’t.”

You give him a skeptical look. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious.” He sits up straight, his expression suddenly earnest. “I think it’d be good for us. To just socialize and be normal for a night here. No personas, no performance. Just you and me and our friends, having fun.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget to argue. He’s right. Things have been so tangled lately, so wrapped up in the strange bubble you’ve created together, that the idea of stepping outside of it—even just for a night—is undeniably appealing.

“Okay,” you say finally, leaning back against the headboard. “But if we’re doing this, you’re helping me clean. And you’re in charge of hiding your stuff.”

“Deal,” he says with a wink. “This is gonna be great, princess. You’ll see.” He laughs, the sound rich and warm, and it makes something in your chest tighten from the way he refers to you.

And as much as you hate to admit it, a part of you hopes he’s right.

“Gee, I hope so,” you deadpan, but you’re smiling. It’s easy to smile around him. Too easy.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that doesn’t need to be filled with words. You watch as he fiddles with the settings on his camera, his brow furrowed in concentration. It’s moments like these that make you wonder if he feels it too—this unspoken thing between you. The way your eyes linger a little too long when he’s not looking. The way he always finds an excuse to touch you, even if it’s just a casual brush of his hand against yours. The way the air seems to shift whenever you’re alone together, charged with something you can’t quite name.

But neither of you says anything. Not yet.

“Alright,” Jin says finally, breaking the silence. “You ready?”

“Always.”

Of course, the universe has an odd sense of humor. The one day you’re frantically juggling last-minute party preparations—decorations, confirming guests that will be there, and a “menu” that still isn’t finalized—is also the day of your final-round interview at Netflix. Not just any interview, but for a Consumer Content Insights Analyst role. You’d been dreaming about this opportunity for the last two weeks, and somehow, against all odds, you’d made it this far. 

You’ve made it to a couple of final rounds for other roles, so you’re telling yourself not to get your hopes all up, but to give it your best.

As you step into one of Netflix’s sleek, glass-walled buildings that late Friday morning, you can’t help but feel like a lost deer wandering into a forest of overachievers. The moment you step into the towering glass building, you feel like an imposter. The Netflix logo looms over the lobby, and the swarm of well-dressed employees moving with purpose only amplifies the pit in your stomach. You’re not supposed to be here. This is Netflix—Netflix. It feels too big, too surreal, too out of reach. The irony isn’t lost on you—your current odd way of life with Seokjin and your borderline-obsessive love for Netflix’s romcoms have collided in the most absurd way. Shows like Never Have I Ever, The Kissing Booth, and To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before weren’t just guilty pleasures, but your comfort zone, your escape, and apparently, your secret weapon.

During the earlier rounds, you’d managed to strike a balance between professionalism and fangirling, especially with the Talent Acquisition lead. She seemed to appreciate your genuine passion for Netflix’s content, paired with the analytical chops you’d honed at your last job. It’s a miracle you made it this far, but here you are, standing in the lobby, clutching your portfolio and trying to remember if you’d actually brushed your hair this morning.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is it—the final hurdle. Whether it was your love for romcoms, your ability to geek out over data trends, or just sheer dumb luck, you’d earned this shot. Now, all you had to do was not screw it up.

But somehow, by some miracle, you’ve made it this far.

You smooth down the fabric of your blazer, clutching your portfolio just a little tighter as the receptionist checks you in. Your reflection stares back at you from the polished elevator doors, and for a second, you barely recognize yourself. You’ve spent months streaming in lace and silk, whispering sinful things into Jin’s mic. And now, here you are, dressed in corporate chic, about to pitch why you belong in a boardroom instead of on a not-safe-for-work streaming website.

The universe is funny like that.

By the time you’re escorted to the conference room, your nerves are a tangled mess. You pass by walls adorned with larger-than-life posters of their biggest hits—Stranger Things, Bridgerton, Wednesday, and, of course, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. It almost feels like a taunt. Your ridiculous love for Netflix romcoms might actually be the thing that gets you this job.

Inside, four panelists sit across from an empty chair, their smiles polite but unreadable. You recognize one of them immediately—Gia Kim, the woman who would be your direct manager if you get the job. You’ve done your research on her. She’s sharp, a powerhouse in consumer insights, and someone you know you could learn a lot from.

“Welcome,” Gia says, gesturing for you to sit. Her voice is even, professional, but there’s a warmth to it that helps you breathe a little easier. “We’re excited to chat with you today.”

You settle into your seat, offering a polite, rehearsed smile. “Thank you for having me. I’m really excited to be here.”

The first half of the interview goes as expected—questions about your experience, projects you’ve led, data you’ve analyzed, strategies you’ve developed. You navigate them smoothly, pulling from your previous job, highlighting how you’ve understood consumer behaviors, engagement trends, and audience retention analytics. The other panelists nod approvingly, jotting down notes, occasionally exchanging glances with one another.

Then, Gia leans forward slightly, setting her pen down. There’s a shift in the air, like she’s about to ask something different and out of the ordinary.

“One last question,” she says, resting her chin on her hand. “In this role, you’ll be helping us understand why people connect so deeply with certain stories, why certain characters or narratives resonate across different cultures. In your opinion, what makes a story unforgettable?”

The question hits you in a place you weren’t expecting.

Your mind floods with images of living with Jin these past couple of months. His laugh, his voice murmuring in your ear, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention. The slow, dangerous unraveling between you, the blurred lines, the quiet moments off-camera that feels like it means more but just not addressing it.

What makes a story unforgettable?

You take a slow breath, collecting your thoughts before you speak.

“I think the most unforgettable stories,” you begin, your voice steady but thoughtful, “are the ones that reflect something deeply human back at us. The ones that make us feel seen, even in ways we don’t fully understand.”

Gia watches you intently, nodding for you to continue.

“Whether it’s a coming-of-age romance or a dark psychological drama, the best stories don’t just entertain—they expose us. They show us our own fears, our desires, our contradictions. They remind us of what we’ve lost, what we still want, and maybe, if we’re lucky, what we didn’t realize we needed.”

You swallow, feeling your chest tighten slightly. “It’s not just about the plot or the characters. It’s about the way a story lingers. The way it makes you think about someone days later, even when you don’t mean to. It’s the way it changes how you see yourself, or how you see someone else.”

There’s a silence. A pause.

Oh shit… did you fuck up with that philosophical ass response?! You look at each of the panelists waiting for a response, which ends up coming from Gia. Fuck. This may not end well after all– “That was… beautifully said.” Oh? Uh, you’re not sure if that’s sarcasm or genuine, because you can’t honestly tell after many amazing interviews that end up with a rejection days or even hours later. But fuck it! You tried, and if they don’t want you, then you’ll keep trying. Either applying to another role at this company or elsewhere. You recall a memory of Seokjin teaching you how to make pajeon, being afraid of flinging the pajeon once you try to flip the pan to cook it. “If you fling it, then you fling it. You can always clean up and try again.”

You smile, remembering that moment and the response you gave to their question.

The panelists exchange another glance, and for the first time all morning, you let yourself think—whatever happens, happens.

After coming home from your interview and running errands, you immediately notice two things upon opening the door: the living room looks completely different, and Seokjin is standing there in nothing but a white t-shirt and a pair of ridiculously short shorts that show off his toned, golden legs.

He appears from around the corner, a bright grin on his face. “Hey! You’re back! How did it go?”

You blink, momentarily distracted by the absolute scam that is his genetics, before shaking yourself back to reality. “Oh, uh, I think it went well? But I honestly don’t want to get my hopes up.”

Jin waves a dismissive hand, walking closer with an easy confidence that somehow makes his whole outfit look even more intentional. “Nah, I’m sure you got this! I overheard you talking excitedly with the recruiter a few weeks ago, so I do think you have a high chance.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you set your bag down by the door. “Thanks for inflating my ego.”

“You’re welcome,” he quips, placing a hand on his hip. “I inflate mine all the time, and that’s how I got here.”

You burst into laughter, the stress from earlier melting just slightly. Typical Jin.

Stepping further into the living room, you finally take in the sheer effort that’s gone into setting up for tonight’s party. The couch has been pushed back to make room, streamers are partially hung along the walls, and the coffee table has been swapped out for a makeshift drink station, complete with bottles of soju, whiskey, and a ridiculous amount of mixers. The chairs from the dining table are missing—probably relocated to hold the obscene amount of food you assume Jin ordered.

And then, hunched on the floor with an expression of pure suffering, is a familiar figure.

Yoongi.

Jin’s longtime best friend, the guy who essentially convinced him to start streaming (games and porn) in the first place, and someone who, by all accounts, prefers the company of his music studio over people. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen him. This is probably the fifth time you’re seeing him in person compared to any of his other friends. He doesn’t even bother to look up as he speaks.

“Hi. Nice to see you again after so long. My back is fucking killing me thanks to Seokjin making me from sit and hunch over to make this shit,” he deadpans, still threading a streamer through his fingers.

How lovely. Such a contrast from Jin, yet somewhat similar.

You blink, glancing at the pile of tangled decorations in front of him. “Uh, well, hi.”

Jin chuckles from behind you, clearly unbothered. “Yoongi’s not exactly a party planner, but he’s suffering through this for us. Isn’t that nice?”

Yoongi scoffs. “I actually am, and also I’m here because you bribed me with the promise of good food and free drinks.”

“Well, you are getting free drinks,” Jin points out, arms crossed. “That has to count for something.”

Yoongi finally looks up at you, his sharp eyes assessing. “Surprised your infamous roommate is still here, Jin. Do you know he talks about you way too much.”

You arch a brow. “Oh? And what exactly does he say?”

Jin clears his throat loudly, throwing a warning glance at Yoongi, who just smirks. “Nothing too incriminating, but just a lot about the sex you two are hav–.”

“Alright, alright,” you say, waving a hand. “Yoongi, if your back hurts, you could sit on the dining chairs—”

“He moved them,” Yoongi interrupts flatly, tilting his head toward Jin. “To put all the food and alcohol on the table. He’s also going to set up a beer pong table later.”

You sigh. “Never mind.”

With a shake of your head, you step toward the hallway leading to your room. “I’m gonna go change out of this stuffy blazer and then I’ll come help you guys. Sounds good?”

“Sounds good,” Jin calls after you. “But don’t take too long. I need you to approve my outfit choice.”

You pause mid-step, glancing back over your shoulder. “Why do I need to approve it?”

Jin grins. “Because you have good taste, obviously.” “Well, it’s not giving ‘party’ vibes to me, it’s giving ‘run club’.” Jin rolls his eyes and scoffs. Yoongi groans, already regretting being here. “God, just go change before he starts monologuing about how hot he looks.”

Laughing, you disappear into your room, already feeling lighter than you did when you first walked in. Twenty minutes later, you emerge from your room, freshly transformed. Your light green Solid Ruffle Knotted Rib Crop Tank Top hugs your frame just right, the delicate fabric subtly highlighting your curves, while your medium-wash flare jeans flare out at the perfect moment, accentuating your silhouette. A pair of star-shaped hairpins glint on either side of your hair, adding a playful touch to the look.

Yoongi and Seokjin—now dressed in a University of Michigan crewneck and khaki pants, respectively—are lounging in the living room when you step in. The moment they see you, their conversation trails off, and their eyes widen slightly. You pause, giving them a slow twirl, the fabric of your jeans swishing softly as you turn.

“Well?” you ask, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Thoughts?” For a moment, they’re silent, their expressions caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up, while Seokjin’s mouth opens slightly, as if he’s about to say something, but no words come out. They just stare, dumbfounded, and you can’t help but laugh at their reaction.

“That good, huh?” you say, breaking the silence as you smooth out your top, secretly pleased with their stunned silence. Jin is the first to snap out of it, blinking rapidly as if rebooting his entire system. “H-Holy shit,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. His eyes flicker over you, taking in the way the snug fabric of your crop top clings to your curves, the way your jeans sit perfectly on your waist, emphasizing all the right places.

Yoongi, ever the composed one, simply lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “I already know tonight’s gonna be a fucking headache.”

You smirk, placing a hand on your hip. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jin clears his throat, finally finding his voice. “I mean—yeah, obviously. You look… wow. Really good.” He gestures vaguely at your outfit. “Like, uh. Yeah.”

“Like, uh. Yeah?” you repeat, teasing. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, standing up from his spot on the floor and brushing imaginary dust off his sweats. “You know you look good. Don’t make him suffer.”

Jin scowls. “Shut up, dude.”

You laugh, reaching over to adjust one of your star hairpins. “Alright, enough staring. What’s left to do before people get here?”

Jin, still looking slightly dazed, snaps back into party-host mode. “Uh, we still need to get the speakers from Yoongi’s car, set up the drink station properly, and—oh! We need ice. Lots of ice.”

You nod, rolling up your sleeves (metaphorically, since you’re sleeveless, but still). “Alright. I’ll help grab the speakers. Give me the keys.” You motion towards Yoongi, who shuffles for them in his jeans’ pockets and hands them to you. “It’s parked in the guest spot by the gate. Don’t you dare drop those speakers, okay?”

“Got it, will be right back.”

You go out the door and leave it slightly ajar so you can come back in easily. The two men are working on their tasks in silence until they realize you’re at a far enough range where you won’t hear what is being said inside. Yoongi looks at Seokjin, who’s hunched over the cooler, shoveling ice inside a little too aggressively. The tips of Jin’s ears are still tinged red.

“So you two aren’t dating yet?” Yoongi asks casually, as if he’s commenting on the weather.

Jin nearly drops an entire bag of ice onto the floor. “Goddamn it, Yoongi…what are you on about now?”

Yoongi leans against the counter, expression unreadable as he watches Jin fumble to compose himself. “Well, considering how you’ve clearly gotten real close in the past few months, I was just wondering.” He shrugs. “You know, since you were so adamant that she, and I quote, ‘absolutely did not want to live with me and doesn’t like me at all.’”

Jin exhales sharply through his nose, standing up straight and dusting his hands off like that’ll help shake off whatever Yoongi is implying. “She didn’t like me at first,” he argues, though there’s no real conviction behind it.

Yoongi hums, clearly unimpressed. “And now?”

Jin doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he focuses on the ice cooler like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. But Yoongi isn’t stupid. He catches the way Jin’s jaw tightens slightly, the way his fingers still against the rim of the cooler like he’s sorting through thoughts he doesn’t want to say out loud.

Yoongi smirks. Interesting, he thinks.

Yoongi doesn’t let up. He leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching Jin with that same unreadable expression.

“So?” he presses. “What’s stopping you now?”

Jin exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice quieter this time. “We’re trying to be adults about this. Keep things professional since we’re roommates and agreed to do camming together.”

Yoongi lifts a brow. “Professional?” He snorts. “Jin, you two are literally fucking on camera for money. The line was crossed the second you got her naked in front of an audience.”

Jin glares. “It’s not just that.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond right away, letting the silence stretch. Jin feels the weight of his own words settle between them.

“It’s different off-camera,” he continues after a moment, his voice low. “The way we talk. The way we are around each other. It’s… real.”

Yoongi tilts his head slightly. “And that scares you.”

Jin swallows. He doesn’t answer.

Because yeah. It does scare him.

He’s spent months pretending that what happens between you two is just another part of the arrangement. That the way he watches you when you’re not looking, the way he feels a pull in his chest when you laugh at his stupid jokes, the way his body reacts when you’re just there—all of it is just residual chemistry from the streams.

But it’s not.

And the fact that he can’t stop thinking about you, even when the cameras are off, is proof of that.

Yoongi, ever perceptive, sighs like he already knows exactly what’s running through Jin’s head. “You’re an idiot,” he says finally.

Jin scoffs. “Yeah, well. You’re not wrong.”

The conversation dies down for a moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Then Yoongi straightens, glancing toward the front door. “She’s been gone a while. Think she got lost?”

Jin smirks, glad for the change of subject. “Nah, she probably got distracted by some guy’s dog in the parking lot. She does that.”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah. You’re so fucked, man.”

Jin doesn’t argue. Because Yoongi is literally so fucking right.

By the time you return with the speakers, the living room has been completely transformed. Jin and Yoongi have finished hanging the last of the streamers, and the drink station is fully stocked with a dangerously large selection of alcohol. The speakers are strategically placed for maximum sound, and the atmosphere has shifted from quiet preparation to something far more electric—anticipation hanging in the air, thick like static before a storm.

As the sun dips lower, casting golden streaks through the windows, the apartment feels alive with energy. The furniture is arranged to make room for dancing—or whatever chaos the night might bring. The drink station is well-stocked, with liquor, mixers, and neatly arranged cups, and the snack table is just begging to be raided. In the corner, you spot Yoongi, who’s now pouring himself a drink, leaning back on one of the chairs like he’s already bracing himself for the mayhem to come.

For a moment, you just stand in the doorway, taking it all in. The apartment looks completely different now—transformed from your shared, quiet sanctuary into a party-ready space. And despite the slight unease fluttering in your chest, you can’t help but smile at the thought of the night ahead.

As if on cue, the first guests begin to trickle in.

Namjoon is the first to arrive, effortlessly cool in a fitted black shirt and jeans, a bottle of whiskey in hand. He gives you a friendly nod when he steps through the door and sets the whiskey on the kitchen counter, greeting Jin with a casual handshake that turns into a hug.

“Looking good, man,” Namjoon says with a grin. “Big night, huh?”

“Yeah, we’re doing it up right,” Jin replies, his voice just a little louder than usual, a bit of that party-host enthusiasm bubbling up in him. The two exchange a few more words, and Jin motions toward you. “Hey, come on over. [Y/N], I’m sure you remember Namjoon.”

Namjoon gives you an easy smile, his presence as warm and reassuring as always. “Hey there, it’s been a while! How’s everything?”

“Good, good,” you reply, trying to keep your voice casual as you glance around the room. “Job hunting, binge watching a show, the usual.”

Namjoon laughs softly, offering a comforting smile. “I get it. Hope it’s going better for you. You’ll land something soon, I’m sure.”

You offer a small smile in return, the familiar reassurance doing a little to calm your nerves. You hope so too.

The door bursts open once more, and Hoseok enters with his exuberance, his energy practically palpable as he greets everyone. He’s always the life of the party, and tonight is no exception. “What’s up, everybody!” he announces, practically vibrating with excitement. He immediately starts giving hugs to everyone in sight, first to Jin, then Namjoon, and then you, pulling you into a bear hug that’s more playful than anything else.

“Hoseok! It’s been some time since I last saw you. Busy with work?” You look at him joyfully after he lets go of the hug.

“I know, right?” he grins, practically bouncing on his feet. “I’ve been living my best life working as a Tour Choreographer, but I had to take a small break to party with you guys. Feels like it’s been forever since I last saw you at the hot pot hang out 2 months ago!”

You laugh, the infectious nature of his enthusiasm working its magic. “Yeah, but you were prepping for Bad Bunny’s tour! You haven’t missed out on much here.”

“But, hey, I’m here now, so the party’s officially started,” Hoseok declares, winking as he turns toward the rest of the room.

The next guests to arrive are Jimin and Taehyung, walking in together. They both carry themselves with an effortless confidence that seems to make the air around them shift. Jimin, with that familiar smirk, immediately catches your attention. He doesn’t say much but his presence is felt all the same. Then there’s Taehyung, with his boxy smile as easygoing as his flirtatious reputation he apparently has on Twitch. Though, most of it is him messing around with Jimin, whatever that means.

“Hey there,” Jimin says, his voice smooth, his smirk more of a playful challenge. “I wanted to see you again so badly, Noona.”

Here we go with the formal, endearing terms to call a girl slightly older than them.

“I…Jimin, just call me by my name! Not noona!” you laugh, feeling the warmth in your cheeks from his constant teasing. “I see you’re still driving people crazy as ever,” You don’t really see Jimin often as he lives across a few cities and doesn’t come over for irl streams, but his flirty attitude is also still the same as Taehyungs’.

Taehyung, ever the playful one, leans over to Jimin, raising an eyebrow. “Are you ever free to hang with us? We’ve been wanting to go out to a fancy omakase dinner, but Seokjin keeps cockblocking.”

You laugh as you glance at Jin, who’s watching with mild amusement. “I fear as long as that man is still around and acting as my supposed manager, it may not be possible,” Jin has warned you about their scandalous behaviors, so it may be best to stay away.

As they settle in, the door opens again, and Jungkook steps in, looking effortlessly cool in a simple black hoodie and sweatpants. You’ve been knowing he’s a big name in streaming, of course, one of the earliest people Jin started collaborating with. This is your fifth time seeing him, the first being when they did Jin’s first IRL stream together at Cheesecake Factory, then the Mario Party and Mario Kart March Madness competition streams they had. Don’t even ask what this means.

Jungkook flashes you a smile that feels both familiar and comforting.

“Hi [Y/N]! I missed you!” Jungkook greets you. “Glad to see you’re still here.”

“Aw, yeah, good to see you again,” you respond, your smile a little warmer this time. You glance at Jin, who’s watching the exchange with a slight smile.

Behind Jungkook, a few more people start trickling in—Mingyu, Yugyeom, Eunwoo, and Jaehyun, all streaming housemates from Jungkook’s crew at their “97z” streamer house. They’re all friendly, and soon enough, the place is buzzing with energy as they greet everyone. It’s a mix of Jin’s college friends and a few of his more recent streamer buddies: Kim Dong-hyun, Lee Yi-kyung, Kian84, Kang Seung Yoon, etc.

From the people that are Jin’s non-streamer friends, you spot a few familiar faces: Moonbyul, Sandeul, Hani, Ken—people from your elementary school days you haven’t seen in ages. You’re genuinely grateful to see them here, especially with the unfamiliar crowd. It feels comforting to have a piece of your past here among the chaos.

Then, just as the place starts to feel like it’s reaching its peak, the door opens again.

It’s Sakura. She’s an old work colleague you’re close to, and as soon as she spots you, she beams and rushes over to greet you. “It’s been so long! I’ve missed you at work.”

You hug her tightly, laughing. “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Glad you made it.” “I’ll be here for a bit as I gotta rest after a tough week!” “No worries! We appreciate you coming by!”

The other familiar faces follow from your core college friend group, Daisy, Joshua, and Vernon, all grinning as they spot you. “We made it!” Vernon announces, clearly ready to dive into the chaos.

And just like that, the apartment is full. Music is playing, drinks are flowing, and the room hums with life. It’s chaotic, loud, and full of strangers you’re just getting to know—and old friends you’ve been craving to catch up with.

You’re beginning to get a little restless as the night progresses, occasionally scanning the room to see if Yunjin and Wendy have arrived yet. They had promised to finally hang out, after all this time, and it felt like everything had fallen into place for tonight—finally, after all the delays, they’d be here. 

You chat with your friends and Jin’s friends, exchanging pleasantries and getting to know the people in Jin’s circle, but in the back of your mind, you’re still waiting for the familiar faces that bring a sense of ease with them.

As you linger by the door, you start to wonder if they’re even going to make it.

Just as you’re thinking it, you hear the door creak open once more, and then you see them.

Yunjin steps inside first, her outfit effortlessly chic—she’s wearing a black leather jacket over a flowy white blouse tucked into high-waisted ripped jeans, with combat boots that give her an edge. She’s holding a large gift bag, clearly for you, as she walks in with a wide grin. Behind her, Wendy steps through the door, immediately catching the attention of the room.

Wendy’s fit is on another level—her black crop top is paired with a mini skirt that highlights her toned legs, and she’s wearing thigh-high boots that make her look like she’s walked straight out of an edgy fashion magazine. She has her hair styled in loose waves, and the confidence radiating off her only makes her look even hotter. You can’t help but feel a little grateful that she’s here tonight, if only to make the energy feel more familiar.

Both of them walk toward you almost immediately, and as they approach, your smile brightens. "You two are fashionably late! I’ve missed you guys soooo much," you exclaim, throwing your arms around both of them in a quick embrace.

“Same here!” Yunjin says, pulling back with a smile. “Sorry we’re late, work’s been crazy as an assistant to the creative director at my company. But we’re here now, and we’ve got gifts!” She hands you the large gift bag, and you take it with an appreciative grin.

“Thanks! You really didn’t have to,” you say as you look inside the bag to find a beautiful necklace and the moomin keychain plushie Yunjin promised to give you so long ago. Finally made its’ way to you.

“You deserve it,” Wendy chimes in, offering you a playful wink. “Also, I’m glad we’re finally doing something fun. It’s been way too long.”

As you continue chatting, you’re interrupted by a small group that gathers around you, eager to greet the two women. Daisy, Joshua, and Vernon, of course, immediately move in to say hi, pulling them into the fold of casual banter. You step back, watching them for a second, a soft smile tugging at your lips. It feels good to have all your friends under one roof.

Then, Yunjin glances across the room, narrowing her eyes as she scans the area. "Where’s your lovely roommate who’s been looking after you?" she asks, voice teasing but still holding a note of curiosity.

Without missing a beat, you point across the room, where you can see Jin chatting animatedly with a few of his gamer friends by the glass doors that lead to the balcony. “Oh, he’s over there, talking to a few of his streaming friends,” you say, feeling the conversation shift slightly in your stomach.

“Woah, he streams? Like on Twitch? Is he big on there?”

“He’s pretty up there! It’s this new hobby he started not so long ago.”

“That’s so cool!”

While Yunjin’s interest peaks in hearing about Jin’s side hustle,  Wendy’s eyes widen when she sees him, and for just a moment, you see something in her expression shift—surprise, maybe even a little discomfort, though it’s quickly masked. She doesn’t say anything, but then you catch the look she shares with Yunjin, who suddenly gets very quiet.

You quickly try to push the awkwardness away. “Hey, go on, mingle, get some food, drinks, whatever. I’ll be over in a second,” you tell them, trying to distract yourself and them. You’re not sure why the change in energy unsettles you.

The two women nod, heading off toward the snack table, and you turn your attention to the next task at hand—making sure everything goes smoothly for the night.

But just as you’re walking toward the kitchen, you’re suddenly pulled back by a hand on your arm. It’s Yoongi.

“Hey, Yoongi. What’s up?” you ask, turning to face him.

He looks around cautiously, making sure no one’s nearby, and pulls you just far enough away so you’re out of earshot from the rest of the group.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice low. “I’m not the type to get into drama, but I’m curious. Why did you invite her?”

You frown, a little confused at what he’s even referring to. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Yoongi gestures vaguely in Wendy’s direction, where she’s now talking to Jin, her head tilted as she laughs at something he said. “That’s… his ex girlfriend,” he mutters, clearly unsettled by it.

Your stomach drops. “What?” you whisper, at a total loss for words.

“You didn’t know?” Yoongi’s voice is almost incredulous, like it’s impossible that you wouldn’t have known.

“No! I—I didn’t know,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low. “Wendy and Jin…they were together?”

Yoongi’s lips press together in a tight line. “Yeah. They were. A while ago, but... still.” He shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “But hold on, you really didn’t know? This is fucking insane…”

You shake your head, your stomach twisting into knots. No, you hadn’t known. Not a clue. You’d known Wendy since your sophomore year of college, meeting her in an accounting class of all places. She’d been your friend ever since—reliable, kind, and always there when you needed her. But relationships? That was never something she flaunted. And with the way Instagram’s algorithm worked these last few years, you’d missed any subtle hints she might have dropped.

“No, I didn’t,” you mutter, your voice steady but laced with defensiveness. “I’m not exactly the type to stalk people’s love lives, especially on social media. I’ve been too busy worrying about my own shit, so… sorry.”

Yoongi’s face softens, realizing he’s been a little too harsh. “Sorry. It’s just… Jin was kind of broken up about it. He did like her, but they ended things because they just weren’t working out. Wendy wasn’t happy. Stuff like sex wasn’t really fulfilling for her, she wanted to be with him more, but he was always working. He loves his job at Riot so it was always his priority. And eventually, they grew apart. It wasn’t messy, though. They both agreed it was for the best.” He pauses, searching for the right words. “She was still important to him, and it kinda killed his confidence for a while.”

You feel your chest tighten. Wendy was his ex. Wendy was that ex he mentioned. The ex that he learned about more sexual stuff with.

“Jin finally moved on after starting his Twitch streaming hustle, but you know, shit always stays like that in your heart somewhere,” Yoongi continues, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’ll stop pushing. I just wanted to make sure you knew before you…” He trails off, looking back over his shoulder toward the crowd, where Wendy is laughing with Jin.

You let out a long sigh, the weight of it all settling in. The complicated side of Jin that you didn’t know about, and this now tangled web between your friendship with Wendy and what you’ve shared with him.

“What are you implying?” you whisper, barely audible.

Yoongi looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours, trying to convey something without saying it outright. And then it hits you—he’s not just talking about Jin and Wendy. He’s talking about you. About the late-night streams, the flirty banter, the way you and Jin have been dancing around each other lately. He’s talking about the possibility of feelings—real feelings—creeping in where they shouldn’t.

Your face flushes, and you quickly shake your head, as if trying to physically dispel the thought. No. Absolutely not. Whatever little thoughts you’ve had about Jin were born out of loneliness, boredom, maybe even a touch of curiosity—but that’s it. This thing between you two? It’s just a fun way to make money. A distraction. Nothing more.

You don’t like Jin. You can’t like Jin. Yoongi’s gaze doesn’t waver, his expression serious but tinged with something almost sympathetic. “You know what I’m talking about,” he says, his voice low. “But for the sake of Jin—and out of respect for you—I can’t say it out loud.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. Of course you know what he’s talking about. The late-night streams, the teasing banter, the way Jin’s voice seems to linger in your mind long after the camera turns off. But it’s just work, right? A way to make some extra cash, to fill the void until you land another corporate job. It’s not supposed to mean anything. It can’t mean anything.

Maybe you really need to separate yourself from whatever insane feelings or thoughts have been sprouting in your head over the past few months, you think, gripping the edge of the counter to steady yourself. Those good, mind-numbing orgasms? That’s just work. Don’t forget that. It’s transactional. It’s temporary. It’s not real.

But even as you repeat the words to yourself, they feel hollow, like a mantra you’re trying too hard to believe.

“I need some air,” you mutter, more to yourself than to Yoongi. He nods, his expression unreadable, and you slip away from the conversation, weaving through the crowd until you reach the center of the party. The music is louder here, the laughter brighter, but it all feels distant, like you’re watching it through a foggy window.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jin signaling to you, holding up a shot glass with that familiar grin of his. Normally, you’d smile back, maybe even tease him about how many he’s already had. But tonight, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you grab a berry cherry limeade BuzzBall from the table and head straight for the balcony, your heart pounding in your chest.

The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, and you take a deep breath, letting it fill your lungs. You lean against the railing, the city lights stretching out before you, and take a long swig of the BuzzBall. The sweetness is almost too much, but the alcohol buzz spreads almost immediately. This is a distraction, something to focus on besides the mess in your head.

You look out at the stars, at the other apartments across the way. The lights flicker from behind windows, and for a second, it feels like you’re completely alone. In your own space, with no one else’s expectations weighing on you. But even then, you can’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. You try to force it out—tell yourself you’re overthinking, that this is just another night. But the tension still clings to you, wrapping itself around your thoughts. The same dread and confusion you felt with Mingi, but now somehow it feels more twisted. Because you know, deep down, this is different. Jin isn’t like Mingi. Not at all. And that’s what scares you.

You think back to those weeks before when you were drowning in heartbreak after Mingi’s betrayal. You remember how desperate you felt, how everything seemed so out of your control. 

Just when you thought you’d moved on from the Mingi cheating disaster, thanks in no small part to Jin helping you forget, here you are again—caught in another complicated web of feelings you never asked for.

Back to square one.

Get a grip.

Before you can spiral any further, the sliding door behind you opens, and you tense, not ready to face anyone. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is, but you do anyway. But when Namjoon steps out onto the balcony, his presence is surprisingly calming. He gives you a warm, quiet smile.

“Hey,” he says softly, his deep voice carrying a note of concern. “You okay?”

You let out a humorless laugh, still staring out at the city. “I’m just… grabbing some air. It’s stuffy in there. Do I look not okay?”

Namjoon steps closer, leaning against the railing beside you. “Not really. But I figured I’d ask anyway.”

You glance at him, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos in your head. “I was thinking about how shitty my love life is,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to swear off any potential relationships.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “That bad, huh?”

You shrug, taking another sip of your drink. “Just… tired of the drama. Tired of feeling like I’m always one step away from messing everything up.”

He nods, his gaze thoughtful. “Sometimes it’s not about avoiding the mess. It’s about figuring out what’s worth cleaning up.”

You freeze for a moment, his words hitting closer to home than you’d like. But you quickly shake it off, not ready to unpack that just yet. “Yeah, well, I think I’ve done enough cleaning up for one lifetime.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, and for a moment, the weight on your chest feels a little lighter. But you’re careful not to say too much. Namjoon is sharp—too sharp. If you let your guard down, he’ll figure out exactly what’s going on with you and Jin, and that’s a conversation you’re not ready to have.

Not now. Maybe not ever. "Well, then let me help you. You wanna hang out sometime next week?"

 "Huh?"

You blink at Namjoon, caught off guard. "Hang out? Like… just us?"

He shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "Yeah. Why not?"

Your brain short-circuits for a second, still stuck on the conversation you just had—your messy love life, the lingering thoughts of Jin, the complications of everything happening in your life right now. And now Namjoon, with his quiet confidence and perceptive nature, is offering you an out. A distraction.

“I mean, I guess,” you say hesitantly, swirling the drink in your cup. “What’d you have in mind?”

Namjoon smirks slightly, tilting his head in thought. “Dinner? A museum? A bookstore? Maybe something that doesn’t involve people getting wasted off Buzzballs?”

You huff out a laugh. “That might be a nice change of pace.”

“Good,” he says, his voice warm, reassuring. “Then it’s a plan.”

You don’t know why, but there’s something grounding about Namjoon in this moment. Maybe it’s the way he listens, how he doesn’t push, just offers you a space to breathe. You haven’t had that in a while.

But before you can say anything else, the balcony door swings open again, and Jin steps outside.

The air shifts instantly.

Jin’s gaze flickers between the two of you, something unreadable crossing his face before he covers it up with a lazy smirk. “What’s this? You sneaking off with my roommate, Joon?”

Namjoon, completely unfazed, leans against the railing with an easy grin. “She needed air. I’m just keeping her company.”

Jin hums, stepping closer. He’s got a drink in his hand, the condensation dripping down his fingers as he tilts his head at you. His tone is playful, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. “Didn’t take you for a party-escape type, Princess.”

Your grip tightens around your drink at the nickname. You haven’t heard him call you that outside of the streams before. Or even outside this home where only you two live in. You shoot him a look, forcing a smirk. “Didn’t take you for the type to notice when I’m not around.”

Jin’s smirk falters for a fraction of a second before he recovers, chuckling under his breath. “Please. I always notice.”

Your breath catches, but before you can process it, Namjoon clears his throat, setting his cup down on the railing. “Well, I should probably get back inside. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

You nod, watching as he heads back in, leaving you alone with Jin.

The silence that follows is thick.

Jin leans back against the railing next to you, staring out at the city. "So. You and Namjoon, huh?"

You scoff. “Don’t start.”

He grins. “What? I’m just curious.”

“No, you’re fishing.”

Jin chuckles, but there’s something behind it—something almost hesitant. He takes a slow sip of his drink before turning to face you fully. “Do you like him?”

You freeze. Of all the questions, you weren’t expecting that.

Your first instinct is to deflect, to make a joke, to push the attention away from whatever this is. But for some reason, the way Jin is looking at you—open, unreadable, waiting—makes your throat go dry.

You swallow. “I don’t know,” you admit, voice softer than you intended. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Jin studies you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he exhales, shaking his head with a small laugh. “Yeah. I guess not.”

But the way he says it doesn’t feel like he believes it.

And neither do you.

Jin’s presence lingers beside you as the two of you step back inside, the warm air of the party wrapping around you like a heavy cloak. The energy in the room is still buzzing—music playing, drinks flowing, laughter echoing from different corners of the apartment. But despite the crowd, your eyes immediately land on them.

Yunjin and Wendy, standing near the kitchen island with Hoseok, Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Namjoon all gathered around.

The moment Wendy spots you, her brows furrow slightly. “Where have you been for the last half hour?” she asks, tilting her head, curiosity laced in her tone.

And once again, it feels a bit hard to breathe. A bit hard to look at her.

The weight of Yoongi’s earlier revelation presses down on your chest like a brick. That’s his ex. That’s your friend. She dated Jin. She slept with Jin. She knows what he’s like behind closed doors. She knew before you ever did.

You force a smile, gripping your drink a little tighter. “Just needed some air,” you answer, voice even. “Namjoon came out to check on me just before Jin showed up.”

Jin hums beside you, taking a slow sip of his drink as if the conversation isn’t affecting him at all. But you feel it—the way his body tenses just slightly beside you and his usual playfulness is suddenly more subdued.

Wendy nods, but there’s something unreadable in her expression as she glances between you and Jin. “Well, good timing,” she says, her tone light but observant. “We were just about to take shots. You in?”

A distraction.

You exhale, finally forcing yourself to meet her gaze. The feelings swirling inside of you—confusion, unease, maybe even the smallest hint of bitterness—don’t disappear, but you shove them down.

“Yeah,” you say, lifting your cup. “I could use one.”

Jin watches you for a moment longer before flashing one of his signature grins. “Make it two for me.”

And just like that, the conversation shifts, the moment buried under the burn of alcohol and the chaos of the party. But deep down, the questions remain.

What does Wendy really think about all this?

And why does Jin keep looking at you like that?

The party is in full swing, and the energy has shifted into something livelier. In the middle of the living room, Jin and Namjoon are setting up a beer pong table, arranging the plastic cups in neat triangles at either end, filling them up with cheap beer. Yunjin, Wendy, Jungkook, Hoseok, and Yoongi have gathered around, some leaning against the counters, others lounging on the couch, watching with amused anticipation.

You’re feeling a little looser now, the initial unease from earlier beginning to wear off thanks to the alcohol. And maybe, just maybe, you need something to really push these thoughts out of your head. So when Namjoon asks for volunteers, your hand shoots up without thinking.

“I’m in,” you say, stepping forward.

Jin snorts beside you. “You?”

You shoot him a glare. “Yes, me.”

He raises an eyebrow, arms crossed as he tilts his head at you. “No offense, Y/N, but you’re not a great drinker.” Everyone laughs, which makes you scoff. “Excuse me? I can drink just fine.”

“You get tipsy off one soju bottle.”

“That was one time!”

Jin smirks, clearly enjoying this too much. “Yeah, one time last month. Pretty recent, don’t you think?”

The others chuckle at your expense, and you narrow your eyes at him, determined now. “You know what? You play against me then.”

His grin widens. “Ohhh, so we’re back to our childhood rivalry, huh?”

“You started it.”

“Oh no, you started it by thinking you could win.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can fire back, Namjoon steps up beside you, a relaxed smile on his face. “I’ll be her drinking partner,” he says casually.

Jin’s expression falters for just a second. “What? That’s cheating.”

Namjoon raises his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just here for moral support. Plus, you said she’s a lightweight, right? I’m helping balance it out.”

You grin, nudging Namjoon. “See? Teamwork.” You high-five the tall, buff man.

Jin clicks his tongue, clearly annoyed. “Whatever. I’m still kicking your ass.”

And so the game begins.

—

Though turns out, you’re actually pretty good at beer pong.

You weren’t sure if it was the confidence boost from earlier, the competitive streak inside you, or just pure dumb luck, but shot after shot, you manage to land the ball in Jin’s cups. The crowd hypes you up every time you score, and you can feel Jin getting more and more agitated.

But, of course, Jin is better. Annoyingly so.

Every time you think you’re about to get ahead, he evens the score, sinking shots with ease. He’s in his element—relaxed, confident, smirking every time he throws the ball. And the worst part? He knows how to rile you up.

“Wow,” Jin muses as he lands another shot effortlessly, arms stretching behind his head. “I almost feel bad, you were doing so well in the beginning.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you grumble, grabbing the ping pong ball.

“Too late.”

You narrow your eyes at him, fingers tightening around the ball. Okay. You need to distract him. You need something to throw him off so you’re back to winning.

And then…an idea pops into your head. A very reckless, impulsive idea, thanks to the alcohol.

You shoot Jin an innocent look, twirling the ball between your fingers. “Hey, Jin?”

He hums, not even looking up, too busy lining up his next shot.

“Can you tell me how you know Wendy?”

Jin freezes. His fingers slip ever so slightly, and his shot, which would’ve been perfect, veers off course and misses.

Bullseye.

Yoongi, who’s been watching from the side, lets out a sharp breath and shakes his head. He is definitely regretting ever telling you about his ex earlier.

Jin blinks at you, caught off guard. His face doesn’t immediately betray any emotions, but you can tell he’s scrambling to figure out why you’d ask. You see the way his brain works behind his eyes, piecing together the fact that you know.

Wendy, who had been sipping her drink and conversing with Hoseok, suddenly stiffens at the mention of her name. She glances at you, then at Jin, her expression unreadable.

Jin clears his throat. “We went out,” he admits, tone steady. “And we ended thing mutually, so I guess we’re just friends now.”

He turns slightly, nodding toward Wendy, silently asking for confirmation.

She meets his gaze and nods back, a small, tight smile on her lips. “Yeah. Just friends.”

There’s a beat of silence. You don’t know why, but it feels heavier than it should be.

Jin shifts his attention back to you. “Didn’t know you two were acquainted too.”

You lick your lips, feeling something weird settle in your stomach. “Yeah. Wendy and I have been friends for years.”

Jin watches you carefully, his fingers gripping the ping-pong ball just a little tighter before he tosses it in the air and catches it again. There’s something unreadable in his expression—like he’s waiting for you to slip, to give yourself away.

“I don’t know how you found out,” he says casually, rolling the ball between his fingers. “Is the fact that I dated one of your friends bothering you?”

He shoots his shot. The ball arcs smoothly through the air, landing perfectly in your cup. Of course, it does.

You pick up the ball and twirl it between your fingers, forcing yourself to keep your voice even. “Of course not,” you say simply, aiming for your next throw. “Why would it?”

Jin tilts his head, smirking like he doesn’t quite believe you. “No reason. Just thought you might have opinions on it.”

Your grip tightens slightly, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you launch the ball toward his cup. It bounces once, then sinks inside.

You meet his gaze, holding it. “It’s your life, Jin. Your past. Not mine. And not up to me to judge you on that.”

He stares at you for a beat too long, then chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “Right,” he mutters, lifting his drink and taking a slow sip. “Not yours.”

But the way he says it makes something twist in your stomach.

And from the sidelines, Yoongi lets out a quiet sigh, shaking his head like he’s already regretting ever opening his mouth.

Your fingers tighten around the plastic cup, the cold condensation pressing against your palm as you try to make sense of what you’re feeling. The truth is… you don’t know.

Sleeping with your friend’s ex-boyfriend? That alone should have you feeling guilty. But then there’s the fact that Jin isn’t just some guy—he’s your long-time childhood rival, the person who’s been tangled up in your life in ways no one else ever has. He’s always been there, challenging you, frustrating you, pushing you to your limits. And now? Now you’re living together, sleeping together, making money off your bodies while pretending none of it means anything.

It shouldn’t mean anything.

But standing here, playing this stupid game with him, feeling his eyes on you like he’s waiting for something—some kind of reaction—it all suddenly feels very real. Too real.

The alcohol is starting to work its way into Jin’s system, loosening the sharp edges of his usual self-control. He walks toward you, his gaze darkening with something unreadable. And then, just as you’re about to take your next shot, he whispers it.

"Are you jealous?"

Your fingers slip, and the ball veers off course, bouncing off the rim.

Shit.

The surrounding group erupts in laughter at your failed shot, but all you can focus on is Jin, who’s watching you with that infuriatingly smug expression as he goes back to his side. Like he knows he hit a nerve. Like he’s enjoying this way too much.

Namjoon hands you a cup, a silent reminder that you have to drink now, and you take a slow sip, letting the bitterness coat your tongue.

You set the cup down, leveling Jin with a look. “Why would you assume that?”

He tilts his head, like he’s actually considering it. “Dunno. Just because you brought her up when you could’ve said anything else.”

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. “Jin, we’re living together, but I know my own boundaries.”

His smirk falters for just a second. It’s quick—almost too quick—but you catch it.

He tosses the ball absentmindedly in his hand, his smirk still lingering but not quite reaching his eyes. Is the alcohol getting to him now? Or is it his own jealousy of you being alone with his friend? Either way, it’s loosening the usual filter between his thoughts and his words.

"You know your own boundaries?" he echoes, tilting his head slightly. "That’s funny. Thought we blurred a few of those while living together."

Your stomach flips, but you mask it with a scoff. “Oh, please. It’s not like—”

But the words catch in your throat before you can stop them. Not like you two sleep together? Not like you let him fuck you on camera? Not like you think about him more than you should?

Jin’s eyes widen slightly. He catches the slip before anyone else does. Shit.

You’re about to say something—maybe backtrack, maybe pretend it was nothing—but before you can, Jin moves.

In an instant, he closes the distance between you, his hand clamping over your mouth, muffling any potential disaster that could spill from your lips.

“Alright, that’s enough drinks for you,” he says quickly, his voice unnaturally light, like he’s trying to play it off.

The others blink in confusion, Yoongi narrowing his eyes as if already piecing things together.

“What the hell, Jin?” Jungkook laughs. “Where are you taking her?”

“She needs to cool off in her room,” Jin calls over his shoulder as he practically drags you away from the table, his grip firm but careful. You struggle slightly, letting out a muffled protest against his palm, but it’s no use—he’s already guiding you down the hallway.

Everyone that was watching the game looks at you two confused, but then go on to continue playing, now with Jungkook and Hoseok playing against Yunjin and Wendy, who is still stuck on the two of you being a bit weird. Before Wendy has time to question it to Yunjin, Jimin and Taehyung show up to watch them play.

On your end, the door slams shut.

Then—

Your back is against the wall.

Jin’s body is pressed against yours, his palm still covering your mouth, his other hand braced against the wall beside your head.

You freeze, eyes locking onto his, heart hammering against your ribs.

The air between you is thick, electric. His chest rises and falls, breath warm against your cheek. His eyes—usually so playful and teasing—are dark, serious. Frustrated.

You make an indignant noise behind his palm, glaring at him.

Jin exhales, running his tongue over his bottom lip before leaning in closer, so close that you feel his breath ghost over your skin.

He finally releases you, and you stumble slightly, glaring at him as you wipe your mouth. “Are you insane?”

Jin exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Me? I just saved your ass from exposing everything in front of our friends!”

Your breath is still uneven from being manhandled into the room, your pulse racing for an entirely different reason now. You cross your arms, trying to steady yourself. “I wasn’t going to say anything—”

“You were,” he cuts in, his tone lower, more serious now. “You almost did.”

Uh, well…

You can’t even argue with that. He’s right. You did almost say something. And now, you’re not sure if it was just the alcohol or something deeper clawing its way to the surface.

You suck in a breath, staring at him. “You didn't need to drag me away, though” you accuse, voice coming out shakier than you intended.

“You were about to say some dumb shit that neither of us need getting out,” he shoots back, still keeping you caged against the wall. “What the hell was that?”

Your face burns. “Maybe I was tipsy! I don't know!”

Jin exhales harshly, tilting his head back like he’s trying to gather patience. “Jesus,” he mutters.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your skin is burning under his proximity. He hasn’t moved. His hands are still caging you in, his body still too close, and—god, why does he smell so good?

Is that a scent of fig tree with a cedarand woody note? Wait, no, you gotta focus. You meet his gaze, pulse erratic. “Are you mad?”

Jin lets out a short, humorless laugh. “No shit.”

Oh no.

Silence.

Neither of you move. Neither of you look away.

And then—

His eyes flicker down to your lips.

Your breath catches.

"I'm sorry," you say. Jin’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident in the sharp rise and fall of his chest. His hands are still braced against the wall, caging you in, but his anger—hot and immediate—has shifted into something else entirely.

Something deeper.

His eyes flicker down to your lips again. Just for a second. But you catch it.

You feel it.

Your throat bobs, and you suddenly can’t decide if it’s the alcohol making your head light or the fact that Jin is looking at you like that.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to almost expose us," you repeat, softer this time. “I was just being stupid.”

Jin exhales through his nose, his gaze lingering on you, the sharp edges of his irritation dulling just slightly. He wants to keep being mad, wants to keep drilling it into your head that you were reckless, but…

You look too apologetic. Too sincere.

Too fucking cute.

The slight flush on your cheeks, the way your lips are slightly parted, the way your body feels small under him—it’s enough to make his resolve crack.

And maybe it’s the alcohol lowering his inhibitions.

Maybe it’s the past few months of unspoken tension between you two.

Maybe it’s the fact that he can still taste the way your body feels around him, that the memory of your breathless moans isn’t something he can just shake off like he does with meaningless encounters.

Maybe it’s all of that.

Or maybe Jin just wants to shut you up. Erase mentions of his past with thoughts of the present.

And so—without a second thought, without warning—he kisses you.

Leaving you in complete shock.

His lips crash onto yours, his hand moving from the wall to cup the side of your face, fingers curling into your hair as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss instantly.

You gasp against him, your body stiffening for just a second before melting into the heat of him. His mouth is hot, insistent, and when he presses in closer, slotting himself flush against you, you feel it—the tension between you finally snapping into something undeniable.

Your hands grip at his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer, and Jin groans low against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and straight to your core.

Fuck.

This isn’t like before.

This isn’t the mechanical, transactional chemistry you two have in front of the camera.

Or the casual closeness you have as friends in this home.

This is different.

This is raw. Messy. Real.

And that terrifies you.

Just as Jin’s lips part from yours, your phone vibrates in your back pocket, the sudden noise cutting through the hazy warmth of the moment.

You jerk away from him, breathless, pressing a shaky hand to his chest to create some distance. His brows furrow in confusion, lips still slightly swollen from the kiss, but you’re already fishing out your phone.

An unknown number flashes across the screen.

Your heart pounds for an entirely different reason now.

You swallow, trying to steady yourself before answering. The muffled bass from the party thrums behind the bedroom door, and you pray the caller doesn’t hear it.

“Hello?” you answer, your voice only slightly uneven.

“Hi, is this Y/N?”

You straighten at the sound of the polished, professional voice. “Uh—yes, this is she. How can I help you?”

“Hi, this is Gia, Content Marketing Director at Netflix,” the woman says smoothly. “The team and I discussed our decision, and I didn’t want to wait any longer to inform you. I’m calling to officially offer you the role.”

Your stomach drops.

“I—” You suck in a breath, gripping the phone tighter. “That’s… amazing. Thank you.”

Gia chuckles lightly, her tone warm. “Of course. We’d love to set up a time early next week to go over the details through a phone call. Would Monday at 10 AM work for you?”

Your thoughts are spinning, but somehow, you manage to ground yourself enough to say, “Yes! Monday at 10 works perfectly.”

Jin, still standing close, mouths, Who is it?

You shake your head quickly, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to process what’s happening.

Oh my god.

You just got the job.

Oh god.

“Perfect,” Gia says. “We’ll talk more then. Congratulations again, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much,” you manage, voice slightly breathless. The call ends with a polite goodbye, and you’re left standing there, phone still clutched in your hand, stunned.

Jin tilts his head, still waiting for an answer. “Well?”

You lift your gaze to meet his, wide-eyed and almost disbelieving.

“I just got the job offer at Netflix.”

And just like that—with a new situation arising, everything changes.

- -

a/n: i have no long notes to add. except REMEMBER TO PRE-SAVE AND PRE-ORDER JIN'S 2ND ALBUM ECHO, NOW !! but anyways, that was a crazy ending to this chapter. there's only one more left and that will be released the day before jin's album so look forward to that!!!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

[elieowlsclownery]

Clara's Wings? Clara's Wings? Clara's Wings? Clara's-?

(Also Discussing How Clara's View on Usefulness Affects Her Ability to Grow Because I Can't Ever Stick to One Topic When It Comes To My Favorite Weird Girl)

For every chapter we ponder, "Is this where we get Azz's Bloodline Ability? Is this is? Is thi-?" every other chapter we ponder in equal measure, "Is this where we get to see Clara's wing's? Is this it? Is thi-?" And every time for both of these mysteries Nishi's always been like-

Since I already theorized about Azz's bloodline ability it's only fair to also discuss Clara's wings. This'll be the last M!IK post before the next chapter where everything will turn out FINE and Clara passes the terminus exam with flying colors and they all go to the muddy-buddy swamp!!!

Before chapter 384 we all kind of assumed that Clara's secret would involve her wings since out of all the demons in Iruma's school she's the only one who's never showed hers. It's kind of a big deal that demons have wings in this world. Like before Iruma told Balam he's human he was incredibly worried that he might not have wings, because a demon not having wings could be considered a danger to their health. Yet Clara never showed them, not even during the flying exam.

So it's surprising that her wings are not the big secret she's been hiding from Iruma and Azz...or at least it was at first. Now I kind of understand why it wasn't revealed. Here's a few reasons I can think of.

1: The Secret's Directly Related to Her Wicked Phase and Soulmates - While Clara ate the black candy that triggered her Wicked Phase she was struggling to study for the end-of-terminus exam. If she fails she'll be stuck doing the make-up classes and be left behind again. In fact given the sneak peak we got for the next chapter she's been worried about being left behind a lot recently, from her losing in the Heartbreaker Arc way faster and both her soulmates being at least a rank ahead of her (or in Iruma's case 1.5 ranks ahead if you count Mephisto's patented 5.5 rank.) Not to mention her soulmates going places where she can't be there for them or protect them from bad guys.

So the reason why her wicked phase is so possessive is in direct reaction to her current predicament and secret worries. It's her defense mechanism, the knot currently preventing her from moving forward, just how Ameri's worries about not be demure and sweet enough like the heroine of the forbidden texts prevented her from moving forward. So it makes sense that the secret Iruma and Azz needed to know is the one that's causing her current state-of-mind and involves them both. Her wings don't have anything to do with this at the moment.

2: Wings Still Gives Clara a Secret to Share - It's important to remember Iruma and Azz did not want to know about Clara's secret this way. Each soulmate wanted to eventually tell each other their secret on their own terms, and I wanted them to be able to say it on their own terms too! Unfortunately Clara's secret was forced open due to the circumstances, which while necessary for the story and her character development is still a bummer. BUT because Clara's wings weren't revealed she has something she could tell them on her own terms!

3: Clara's Wings Might Be Important to the Story, But Not to Clara Herself - The only time she was uncomfortable about her wings was when the girls were talking fashion and Elizabeth casually asked. Before that we never see Clara ever be put in a tight spot because of her wings, not even during the Flying Exam. This and her actual deep secret reveal makes me believe that she usually doesn't even think about her wings most days. She's acclimated to life without her wings, and her family seems to do the same, so there's no reason for her to be bothered by them.

So WHY are Clara's wings so hidden that most of the time she doesn't think about it? If the most popular theory is right, it's because her wings are a BIG deal in the demon world, and because of that her mom raised her kids so they never need to rely on them.

When Clara's mom introduced her to Babyls she emphasized it as a free and fun place, which Clara really gravitated toward. She also said that thanks to the people around her she's always enjoyed freedom.

What if her wings are hidden because it threatens her freedom? That it'll involve her and her family in not-so-fun stuff? Like if it's found out that Clara and her family have something powerful or threatening, higher-ranking demons might want to either use them to their advantage or get rid of a potential threat (we'll get to the word use later) Remember that we recently had an arc where a race of demons were threatened because their unique abilities were so essential to higher-ranking demons and that their independence threatens that access? There's good reason to not want to get involved in that power struggle.

Mind you this is if Clara's wings are what we think they are based on the lore of the Valac name. There's still a chance her wings may be very different from what we imagine....but since we're here let's talk about that option first.

The most popular and story-significant theory is that Clara has angel wings. Or technically wings of a deity, since deities been revealed to be a thing in M!IK and fill a similar role to angels. Reason this theory is so popular is due to Valac's lore in demonology, where the demon Valac has the appearance of an angelic boy who rides a two-headed serpent and has the power to find hidden treasure. He can also reveal where serpents can be found. Clara wears a pair of dragon slippers named Connor and Murf, and is capable of pulling anything she's seen from her pockets. She even called the place usually named Toybox her "Treasure Box" while in her Wicked Phase. And as for finding serpents...well....she did catch one.

All this to say a lot of Clara's appearance and powers is inspired by her demon namesake, so it's not that big of a stretch to say she could also have angelic wings. Not that she and her family are deities or angels, they might just have the wings and not the powers. But the wings themselves would be enough to stir things in the demon world, and we know someone who hates any race aside from demons, including deities.

I'd like to think if Clara has angel wings they'd be Purson-sized, tiny and cute and fluffy! That would also contrast with Balam's wings, which are feathery but more akin to wings of a predatory bird. Hers could also be more like Shura's appearance, who so far is the only deity we've physically seen. There is the room for Clara's growth that's flower-based, so maybe her wing are more...petally?

Now unlike any theories for Azz's bloodline ability (including my own) I think there's a lot more weight to the theory of Clara's having angel wings given her namesake...but I still don't think it's a guarantee. Like I'm placing my theory on Azz's bloodline ability being paralyzing at a 15% chance of happening (there's just not a lot to go by so far for ANY Azz theories at the moment. We don't even have any hints to what his dad is like!) and the angel/deity wings theory at a 50-55% chance. The chances are high compared to other theories, but it's not a 100% slam dunk. So if it turns out Clara doesn't have angelic/flowery wings don't be too disappointed.

The Angelic Wings are the most mainstream theory, and I haven't seen a lot of other ideas about her wings that go against it, so these next theories is more me just throwing some spaghetti on the wall.

One is maybe Clara's wings are "mysterious" in that it can't maintain a single form. Like the plant she accidentally made in the early chapters, strange and oddly shaped where the parts don't all match up. In that sense there'd be no point in Clara opening her wings because the wings don't make any sense for flying, and Clara would have to learn to use them in a unique and fun way, just like how she uses her bloodline abilities.

So when Clara was with the girls she was reluctant to show her wings because they weren't "pretty" like there's were, since one of the struggles Clara had in the beginning was not being attractive in a conventional way. She seemed to get over this, but as we've seen in Chapter 384 a lot of her previous worries were never really resolved, just tucked away quietly in her pocket.

The other theory I have is that instead of hiding wings Clara has yet to make her wings using her bloodline ability. After all one of Clara's biggest strength is her creativity, and she's able to pull out anything from her pockets. So if Clara sews a pair of pockets to the back of her shirt and is able to further develop her power, she could make any pair of wings using what she saw and her imagination. If she's able to do this I think it'd be a really interesting physical representation of her growth. There's also the chance that Iruma could learn to make his own pair of usable wings the same way he learned to create his bow which would be fun.

Back to the angel wing theory though if it is true it goes in line with my other talking point, which is that Clara's issues of being useful might be impeding on her ability to grow.

In a lot of manga and anime centered around a male lead there's always a female character or two that's deemed "useless" by viewers because they're always weaker compared to the main character. Sometimes this is due to the author never giving their female characters a chance to shine and a general unwillingness to ever make them even slightly stronger than the male lead, and sometimes this is due to just plain vitriol and not liking girls in general. Even when it's shown that the girl is powerful and does have importance to the story the viewers could still call them weak and worthless if the girl doesn't conform to their standards.

Clara though? Clara's the opposite. Anyone who's paid even slight attention to her abilities realizes her powers are not just strong, but has the potential to be ridiculously overpowered. Like for one she can make anything, anything, that she sees. Two if she can drag them into her costume she can trap them in her domain pocketworld, with no visible exit, and slowly drain their mana. This power got even stronger in her wicked phase, where she was able to drag Iruma and Azz into the pocketworld directly from her pockets without having to wear the costume. Like imagine for a second in a less hopeful universe that Clara Returned to Origins. She's seen the evil cycle candy. Guys, fellows and fellas, my gender neutrals, she can replicate the evil cycle candy!!!

If Clara utilized her ability properly along with her creativity she'd be a force to reckon with...but she's not. Well, I mean she is at the moment while in her wicked phase, but most of the time she's not.

Partially its thanks to THIS Loser, whose imagination was so small they could only think to use her as a snack machine. As shown when she was trapped in that illusion and this recent chapter, that fear of being used just for her ability was never erased. And while she knows her soulmates won't use her abilities...she's kind of placed herself in a different limit. That of the never-serious, always funtime Clara who cheers her friends.

Don't get me wrong, it's good that Clara is able to bring joy, it's good that Iruma said she uses her abilities for fun. The issue is that it's become a way for Clara to be useful again, where instead of being used for snacks she's used for joy and randomness. This isn't how Iruma and Azz see it, but it's how Clara chooses to be. She can't help but see herself on a value scale even with her friends. She's afraid of being used, and yet she feel she needs to somehow be useful in order to stay with them. Like when Iruma summoned her and Azz, she assigned herself immediately as the cheer captain.

I think the right trajectory would be for Clara to learn to love her abilities and realize what she really wants. Not just for her friends as funtime Clara, but for all of Clara. To be able to use her abilities fully on Clara's terms and not on anyone else's, not even her soulmates. After all magic is based one's own desire.

It's the same for Azz's progress actually. It's good that Iruma embraced his flames, it's good that his hard work was acknowledged and he's able to create something so beautiful and strong. But like Clara, he's put a real limit to his potential because of how he sees himself. Even as his friend, his soulmate, he still sees himself as a weapon for Iruma to use. So yeah maybe Azz should learn to expand his horizons too, be it through revealing his bloodline ability or discovering other ambitions outside of Iruma.

Back to Clara though the one fear I've always had long before these recent chapters is that if she's able to show her real potential and gain some notoriety like Iruma...there's a real danger others might try to use her again, and unlike her old bullies it won't just be for snacks and juice. Add that to the possibility of her having angelic wings and her potential as a chess piece skyrockets. The idea that Clara experiencing character growth and catching up to her soulmates will lead to more people trying to use her would be heartbreaking. But so long as her soulmates are around and she learns to love herself more I believe in her!

...I'm just really, really hoping a certain group never find out she went into her wicked phase or discovers her real potential. After all as stated before she can replicate evil cycle candy and is able to absorb others' mana...If Baal or Kirio so much as look at her I swear I'm gonna Isekai into the demon world and take them on myself!!!

[acourtofthought]

can you genuinely say at this point in time, Elain wants lucien? I'm not asking for theories or headcanons. I am asking if you genuinely think that Elain in any way is secretly pining over Lucien, and what textual evidence supports that.

People have argued about her mentioning his name, but I don't think that has to do with romantic feelings for him, moreso basic respect for another. People have talked about a "half-step" which I must've missed bc I do not even remember that - but i don't think a "half step" necessarily conveys anything romantic.

I'm trying to form an opinion in this ship war, but its hard when I see a ton of misinformation from every side. The elriels have their own faults, but they can point to text now that shows Elain wants Azriel.

Can Eluciens do the same? I'm not trying to start a fight, I really just want to know what portion of each ship is backed by the current books vs. how much is just people theorizing they are end game and what they want to happen. And if the Elucien ship is purely just "SJM will always pair fated mates together" that's also fine and valid imo, I just want to know if there's anything in the books you can point to that shows Elain wants Lucien at this moment in time. I don't want to argue about hypotheticals and foreshadowing and what a rose symbolizes. I want cold hard words on the page.

Please note: I know just because it might not be there YET doesn't mean it's not going to happen. I want to evaluate the current standing of these books and the rationality of each argument. But to do that, I need people to be honest about what's there and what's not. I'm asking you because you run one of the more...logical shipwar blogs. But if you don't want to answer this - I also understand why.

At this point in time I don't think that canon supports Elain wanting anyone and that includes both Az and Lucien.

The only person Elain ever confessed having feelings for is Graysen. Real feelings. The "my heart belongs to you" kind of feelings.

Elain specifically said she did not want a male or a mate and those are categories Lucien and Az fall under, despite the almost kiss with Az in SF. It's been proven that a FMC in a SJM book can hook-up with a guy but not want a relationship with him (Feyre / Isaac, Nesta with fae who were not Cassian, Mor / Cassian, Mor / Helion) so Elain's actions in the Az bonus don't prove Elain wants him for more than a night of fun. In fact, the text in canon has her agreeing to "just a taste and that would be it". That's not a confession of long term commitment nor was there any to be found in any other interaction she's had with Az. Even crushes don't mean you're wanting forever with someone. Not to mention she was not written as looking towards either Az or Lucien in the 5 months after Solstice so absolutely no canon supports that she wants to hook-up with Az anymore. Elain's past actions from months ago (including those with Az) can't really be used as proof of canon of now, otherwise we should all be claiming she's still in love with Graysen since she never specifically stated she no longer has feelings for him. Nobody says that though, we use the canon of her no longer breaking down over Graysen to show she's moved past wanting to be with him and currently the canon suggests she's also moved past whatever she was about to do with Az on Solstice since there are zero signs to argue otherwise. There is also zero evidence of Az still wanting to be with Elain in any way now that we're 5 months beyond Solstice. 7 if you count HOFAS.

Right now I think the only thing canon truly supports is that Elain is showing no romantic interest in anyone, male or human. 5 months is a long time. Feyre left Tamlin then was mated to Rhys within 5 months and Elain was not mentioned as shedding a tear for Graysen in that same length of time, not mentioned as looking Az's way in that time, not having a reaction (good or bad) to Lucien in that time.

So to your question, canon does not support Elain wanting Lucien but it doesn't support her currently wanting Az. Canon also never supported her wanting to start a relationship with Az, canon doesn't support her wanting a mating bond with Az, canon doesn't support her having any desire to go forward with a forbidden love with Az.

Does that mean it's what she's actually feeling for Lucien or even Az? We can't say for sure because we don't have her POV but if we're truly basing this discussion off canon alone than Elain doesn't currently seem interested in anyone. It's not fair for e/riels to claim she still wants Az 5 months later as they have no evidence supporting it. It's only their headcanon that she does. Not to mention it's their headcanon she wanted to have a relationship with Az in the first place. They have zero evidence to show she'd be willing to seriously date him.

But as far as what I genuinely think (your phrasing)? I think Elain is struggling with the pull she feels towards Lucien and it scares her.

I don't think all Elucien's assume Sarah will pair Elucien together simply because they're mates. There are many layers behind what we feel.

I do think Elucien's use logic based on Sarah's writing and that logic tells us that characters don't simply ignore a mating bond. In canon, the bond creates a tug to the other that can never be truly forgotten. Based on that canon we hypothesis that there is a lot going on under the surface which is why she's hidden Elain's thoughts from us. She's the only main side character from the original cast who has never been given a POV and there's got to be a reason for that. Sarah was willing to share her almost kiss with Az but never her actual thoughts for Lucien who she suddenly began ignoring in ACOFAS after the events of ACOWAR and that seems a bit purposeful doesn't it? How a kiss isn't a secret but what she feels about the bond she says she doesn't want is?

While we've got no proof showing she wants Lucien, we were given so many examples of the author making an effort to show their compatibility. We were given a bunch of crumbs as to where Elain's future journey could take her and many crumbs placing Lucien in those same places. The author wrote Lucien (not Az) meeting Elain's father. We were given a bunch of scenarios where we're left wondering WHY Elain behaved a certain way towards Lucien especially after she defended him to Graysen, after she took a step as if she'd stop him from searching for Vassa, after she did follow he and Feyre instead of staying behind at her father's grave, after they were left together to wash up after the war, after she invited him to come back to Velaris but only after all that she began completely ignoring him for unexplained reasons. Based on Sarah's writing that pull and push typically means a character is struggling with her pull / desire for the other person and things aren't so one dimensional as "she doesn't like him!" If she didn't like him then why take a step as if to stop him? Why follow him instead of staying with her father's grave? Why peer up at him? Why invite him to Velaris?

We've been in this place before with a Sarah book. "Why did the character do that only to do an abrupt 180?" We saw it with Nesta, who was willing to die with Cassian in ACOWAR only to do the most 180's of all 180's by giving her virginity to someone else in the novella. To telling Cassian she wanted nothing to do with him though we knew she did. So Elucien's are only waiting to see how the author deals with Elain and her inner thoughts of Lucien. We don't think Elain's setup is going to be any less complex than Nesta's was. We believe the author is going to tell a story that is deep and meaningful. And while Elain's current setup doesn't prove this to us just yet, it is canon that Sarah has given that exact treatment to every single one of her mated pairs, whether the FMC was struggling with what she felt or the MMC (as we saw with Rowan and his bond with Aelin), so it would be silly for us to think Elain would be the only one who isn't given that same complexity.

While the textual evidence does not necessarily prove Elain has feelings for Lucien, I think it's valid for Elucien's to use textual evidence of Sarah's past writing patterns to predict the direction she's taking them.

I have no problem admitting that current canon doesn't prove Elain wants Lucien but I've never seen a e/riel admit that current canon, by the end of SF, also doesn't prove Elain wants Az. That canon never proved she wanted a relationship with him at all. Canon doesn't even prove she called his scars beautiful considering Feyre said she wasn't sure if she was referring to his Siphons yet they still hold on to that one.

Canon proves Elain loved Graysen though he was an asshole, canon proves that she was willing to hook up with Az with no proof of anything more, and canon proves that she shares a mating bond with Lucien that she'll never be able to completely forget ("it will be a bond that will trail her for the rest of her existence") though she's currently trying her best which results in weirdness for everyone. That is all the canon proves.

From a romance standpoint, only one of those storylines typically has staying power.

[the-nosy-neighbor]

I was going through text and sound today, looking for mentions of a thing (I'll talk about it later) being repeated, and I pulled up all the audio from the secret videos:

Because at this point, I've rabbitholed far, far away from where I meant to be. I had also gotten a bit distracted about "the numbers are so hard to read." I don't think I've ever read any theorizing including numbers.

And as I was watching these videos, I saw Wally reach out and tap his cup 3 times. So, I started over, noting the numbers that are said or visuals that you can count:

Poppy/Howdy: Can see 4 balls of yarn

Poppy/Sally: Wally taps 3 times, 2 geese because they are that puzzle kind

Sally/Howdy: There are 2 fruit loops right in our field of vision

Frank/Barnaby: 10 figures (an extra on each side you can see as the video slightly pans.) 3 tomatoes can be seen, with 1 squashed

Barnaby/Eddie: this one doesn't seem to have one? There are 2 or 3 letters on the screen, it's hard to tell

Julie/Frank: 6 figures, 2 tomatoes

Julie/Eddie: 4 crayons

Frank/Eddie: A ton of paper chains. I noticed during this scene that Eddie calls Frank "Frank" and then changes to Mr. Frankly, so it got me to wondering if the lack of number is because a plot point is in the segment. (I know, way out there)

Frank/Poppy: 6 apples on the board, 1 doily

Sally/Jules: 3 images on the script board, Julie makes 3 decrees, she demands 2, 20, 30 in hopscotch,

Julie/Barnaby: 3, 2, 1 (Remember to come back to look at Barnaby talking about being small) Also, here, Julie says "I have a joke that will knock your head off." That's not a typical way to say that. Usually, it's "knock your socks off" so I think we can assume that this is more headless Barnaby motif.

Barnaby/Howdy: 1 ice cream, 1 berry, 2 straws, 1 spoon

Howdy/Eddie: 5 apples, they say 1 and 2

Barnaby/Home: 3, 1, 2 , 4, 4, 2

I may be way off base here, but we've been told about the numbers for a while now. I also want to post another thing about numbers later.

I really don't think it would be accidental, but I don't really know how often numbers are used in a video/script/conversation naturally. Also, I would just be assuming that they wanted us to count things in front of us. That is kind of a crazy idea.

But on the other other hand, the videos are in a particular order (they are named with numbers). The going theory on that is that they progress through the day during the videos, first video being the morning and last video being the evening. But what if the videos are also numbered so that we can put numbers in the right order?

We also had this mechanic in the hidden sound clip naming, which allowed us to hear Wally's message in order. Numbers being ordered that way isn't too far fetched when considering the precedent.

In short, I don't know, but here are some numbers. I think there is something missing from this theory, in that we haven't been provided with a key to tell us what numbers count. Then we'd have to find some kind of way to translate those numbers into something usable.

Comments and ideas welcome. I will even accept and encourage telling me I've been staring at Welcome Home for too long..

I'm going to go find a random video and see how many times you get numbers or a repeated word.

[starreyblueberry]

Timmy Turners fate in the new series is one of the most anticipated/theorized aspects of the new show right now. We have multiple easter eggs towards him being a possible character in the new show, and due to the creator saying that Timmys kids could possibly be Cosmo and Wandas next godkids, I don't think Timmy has kids yet (aka the channel chaser ending might be on its way, but not happened just yet.) He is arguably going to either be a huge hit or miss, everyone has different ideas, fates, what he should be, what would be the best conclusion to his character. The lines between real genuine trauma and gags in the old show are blurry, as well as core aspects of his personality. It’s so hard to actually write him as an adult for the new show purely cause what exactly are you going to take from the show that MATTERS. Will you take the lovingness of his parents from season one? or the neglectful spiteful parents they become from season 4. Will you take the horrible grades as him actuallly being bad at school, or crocker failing him on purpose. Will chole even be his best friend? Or is it back to AJ and Chester? Or will his only friends be cosmo and wanda?

We’re Cosmo and Wanda parents to Timmy, or just godparents.

Its already proven that timmys magic somewhat stayed (aka Peris existence, Dale being a millionare, hell even dimsdale/fairy world being intact) If they will acklowdge that? The school mascot being Timmy turner adjacent, past fairy’s seeming to have remembered Timmy (The tooth fairy having a little card of Timmy, Jorgen hanging out w cosmo and Wanda more CAUSE of Timmy’s adventures etc). He’s somehow a crutal part of almost every piece of the show and he’s not even there. I fully believe they’re gonna explain why a lot of Timmy’s wishes have stayed (in my opinion so many of his changes have made the world in general a better place, and he has saved the universe so often undoing his shit would kinda change the whole fabric of space and time, thus making his magic stay, memories are more… iffy.)

I know a huge thing is also the family dynamic, the fact Timmy is their favourite, hell the HALL OF TIMMY!!! The fact they keep a picture of his room in their house, the fact that they reference him sometimes within conversations with hazel. Never actually spoken his name but implied that’s their Timmy (aside from one time) That the reason the world is right now the reason this problem or circumstance or blessing is happening is because of Timmy Turner.

The amount of pure power Timmy has over the show is something crazy, and I do trust the new writers to give us an ending that will satisfy us. He’s been so connected to many people’s childhoods, showing found family at its core. He’s snarky, loud, smart, kind, and more. People want to see him happy, people want to see him with his family. Who you count as his family is up to you. It’s already been semi-confirmed it’s gonna be connected to the channel chasers ending since most of the general audience has said they wished the show ended during that time ( I have my own opions about it but I digress.) It would be super cool if they did their own take, aka any unconventional Timmy future that we haven’t seen as a concept in the OG show. I know many people are rooting for too remember, for them to be united, and I really wish it happens. We also have to remember this is hazels story too, and we’ll be seeing the end of Timmy’s story rather then the middle of it. A special about him would be amazing though, especially if he’s either the hero, or the villain. Idk!!One day I’ll make a full post about every possible future Timmy and my preferences towards which ones, but for now I’ll stick with my analysis of the OG show.

All I know is that Timmy changed Cosmo, Wandas, and Peris life almost more then any other Godkid, and I like to think the show respects the impact he had. Not only as their godkid, but as their first kid to consider true family.

[haveatthee83]

Under My Skin (Monkey D. Luffy/Reader) 1/7

Inspo: Under My Skin by Jukebox the Ghost

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Word Count: ~8.5k

Warnings: Angst, arguing, cursing, angry Luffy, discussion of death and dead relatives, brief descriptions of violence.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Luffy was a very happy person. Plenty of people thought he might not even be capable of feeling negative emotions sometimes. All of that theorizing got swept away with the tide the day Ace had died. The heart wrenching wails of the young captain were enough to make the sea herself weep. Luffy was a real person who felt things like loss, sorrow, rage, and hate. That last one wasn’t one he felt very often if at all until years later when you came along.

You had guided his crew through your island, a large sprawling summer island with rolling sands and sunbaked stones. It constantly sent shivers of familiarity through Luffy and the crew, thinking back to Alabasta. All the Straw-Hats had their eyes glued to Luffy, making sure he was okay, but there was apparently no need, his large smile never leaving his face as he asked question after question about the area, what foods you had there, if it ever snowed, or where did you live on this massive island. You would answer as best you could, curt, little responses between small smiles. “We have all kinds of different fruits, vegetables, and fish, but we’re known for raising boar for meat.” “It only snowed once, and it practically shut down the whole island. No one knew what to do!” “I live somewhere close by; I’ll show you and make you all dinner! Make sure you have shelter for the night.”

At first, all seemed well, Luffy was constantly engaged by the land around him, taking in the sights as you brought them toward your home, but then-

“SANDSTORM!” Your voice pierced through the air as you hurriedly corralled the pirate crew into your home, slamming the door shut and grabbing a large robe of sorts, throwing it over your shoulders, “Feel free to make yourselves comfy, eat or whatever you need.” You assured, slamming the door shut, shoving a large plank of wood through the handle to keep and wind from blowing it open or off its hinges. “I’ll be right back!” You called over the wind.

The crew watched through scratched and dirty windows as you shoved a bandana over your nose and slapped a hat onto your head. An orange cowboy hat. You took it off of a hook on your porch, tightening its drawstring under your chin. The hat wasn’t particularly offensive in and of itself, of course. It was a simple, bright orange with a red banded set of goggles on the brim, which you promptly slipped off of the hat and over your eyes, their blue tinted glass glinting in the slowly suffocating sunlight. You gave the pirates a two fingered salute through your windows before sprinting toward your dune buggy right by your house, speeding off in a cloud of sand to help your town hunker down for the storm.

Logically, such a fashion choice would mean very little to someone. Logically, it might even make one laugh at the similarity, the irony. Logically, it was just a hat. But the way it was the exact shade, exact cut. The way your goggles mirrored the smiley tokens. The way your own freckles sprawled over your cheeks…there was nothing logical about it. Who the fuck did you think you were?

The Straw-Hat crew collectively held their breath, all eyes on their captain. Luffy’s smile finally cracked.

“Hey! What’s she got that for?” He exclaimed, rattling the front door’s handle, making its old hinges groan and creak.

Nami and Usopp both grabbed their captain by the shoulders, trying to pry him away from the door, “It’s just a coincidence!” Nami insisted, tugging harder,

“Nuh-uh!” Luffy called out, kicking wildly at his crew mates. “That’s Ace’s hat!”

Nami whined, “Sanji! Make some food or something and make him relax! Or else I’m knocking him out!”

Sanji didn’t even take time to swoon, getting right to work, raiding your fridge and pantry, looking mostly for some type of meat for the ravenous man who was rapidly trying to tear down your door. The cook practically chittered with glee as he found your store of the famed Boar meat, quickly making a plan in his mind as to best prepare it in such a quick fashion.

“Calm down!” Zoro chimed in trying to help calm down the out of character behavior. The swordsman whacked Luffy on the head, “You can’t do shit till she’s back, dipshit!” He hissed, palming the captain’s head like a basketball.

Luffy let out a strangled cry of anguish, flopping onto the ground, “Stupid hat.” He muttered.

Nami, Usopp, and Zoro let him fall, jumping back, the crew all looking between each other. They had left Brook and Franky on the ship, Robin was holding Chopper to her side, running a hand along his fur, trying to soothe him, Sanji was whirling away in the kitchen, and the other three were sat clueless as to what to do. How do you make someone feel better when you’ve never seen them like this?

Luffy scowled, scrambling to his feet and rushed to your living room, sticking his face against the glass of a window, leaning against the beat-up mint green couch under it. ‘Ugly couch.’ Luffy thought bitterly.

Luffy wasn’t wrong. Your furniture was a true-blue hodgepodge of different pieces you’d picked up doing odd jobs or found on the side of the road and fixed up. Nothing went together and it all had patches and noticeably repaired wooden pieces.

Luffy’s eyes drove over the sandy landscape, peeled for your shadow coming up the drive, but it wasn’t there, not yet.

The Straw-Hats all gathered in the living room minus Sanji and settled around their frowning captain.

“What should we do?” Usopp whispered to the group, sitting on an obnoxious, yellow velvet ottoman. “I haven’t seen Luffy like this in ages.” He muttered, thrusting a thumb over his shoulder to where the man sat.

Robin sighed, holding Chopper in her lap, sat on a purple, floral print wingback chair. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” She started, “He needs to talk to her.”

“It’s not his hat though,” Zoro mumbled, leaning next to your mud brick fireplace, “it’s just another orange cowboy hat.”

Nami nodded, legs swung over an emerald, green love seat, “Surely, he knows that?”

Robin shrugged and shook her head, “It’s just his poor mind dealing with the grief.” She suggested.

“What if she knew Ace?” Chopper whispered into the still air of the room, running everyone’s breath stale.

“We won’t know anything until she comes back.” Robin chastised the small reindeer, “Don’t go and put ideas like that out into the universe. It might make things worse.”

Luffy could hear them talking but chose to ignore it, opting to keep his gaze glued on the sand whipping past the window, fixated on a wind chime you had on your porch that slanted with the wind, a wind chime with large, round, red beads hanging from it. Luffy felt his eye twitch as he set his jaw, teeth grinding a bit.

Robin rose from her seat and set Chopper down in her place, opting to walk around your space and see what you were all about. See if you had any good books or any clues as to why you and Ace shared so many similarities.

She travelled over to a small bookcase you had. One can tell a lot about someone based on their bookshelves. The types of readings they kept, the organization, the Knick knacks shoved between hard covers. Her sharp eyes drove over the disorganized covers and broken spines, her hands tucked neatly behind her. There were all kinds of books, with many glass vases and figurines all throughout. She paused, blinking back her shock a bit when she noticed a picture in a frame on the eye level shelf. It was of you, flames wrapped around your skin, a crooked grin on your face, your head topped by that same hat. Your flames burned bright yellow, a long pole in your hand. You had soot and sweat caked to your skin. You were a glass blower. And a Devil Fruit user. With flames.

‘Oh no,’ she thought, quickly looking over her shoulder to make sure Luffy was still preoccupied. Robin looked back at your photo and sighed, acknowledging the inevitable, and left it in place, looking further. You had books of all kinds, books about navigation, astronomy, anatomy, and sailing. You had thick novels about fantasy realms and thin manuals about forges and various vehicles.

Robin’s hands instinctively reached to grab a book from the third shelf. It was worn, with cracked leather binding. The front of it was rather unassuming, bare other than a small engraving of your name at the top. Robin tentatively opened the book, the insides held together with rings, the pages strung in by hand. The first few pages held photos of you as a child, a clipping of your first haircut, your first tooth that you lost, and Robin found a soft smile spreading across her face at the sight of your young, happy face.

The next section held pictures of you as a teenager, one labeled as your first time using your flames, and you held a terrified expression as the yellow flames licked up your arms. The next page showed you glass blowing alongside an old man, the hat now sported proudly on your head, all smiles all around.

The next page made Robin pause. It was a wanted poster. Your wanted poster. Robin quirked a brow at the bounty and the photo. You were worth a cool billion, and the photo of you looked terrifying, your eye glinting through a gap of your flames, your whole body in shadow, and still you had that hat on your head. Robin didn’t have to wonder long about what you had done, the next set of pages were full of clippings from newspapers from all around the world, detailing the adventures of the formidable “Glass Dragon”. You could allegedly form your body into the components for glass and summon flames all around you, namely your breath, to melt them together and form massive glass structures, and tempered glass armor or shields around yourself.

You were in story after story for different raids on the Marines, amassing a body count, encasing entire ships in bubbles of glass, sinking others with glass cannonballs flung through their hulls. The most recent of these adventures is what raised you past the millions. You had killed a high-ranking Marine. An Admiral.

The newspapers didn’t know why you had done it, what your motives were for targeting the marines with such ferocity, but the following page cleared things up. It was a single, small clipping in the middle of the page. It was just text, didn’t even have a picture. It was a simple story about Marines taking out a small fry pirate ship. On it a crew of thirty-nine were all slaughtered. It was thought that no one survived. The article had a simple quote from the now passed Admiral, “Those animals had it coming! Any who oppose the government and turn to piracy deserve to burn.” The statement made Robin clench her teeth, but she couldn’t help but notice, right under the snippet was a handwritten note. A promise. “One survived. And you’ll all burn for it.” It said with a set of tally marks underneath, twenty-five.

Robin pursed her lips, feeling invasive, but pressed on, flipping the page again, finding a large group photo, the crew who was killed. Right front and center was you, beaming with your arms around the two people at your side. Under the photo it was simply labeled “Last family photo” with a date, only days before the date of the slaughter. Robin’s eyebrows pinched in worry, turning the page. What followed were pages and pages of pictures of the passed crew and you, all singed on the edges, but intact. “The Spotted-Salamander Crew” was what you were called, your Jolly Roger sporting freckles and wrapped in green flames.

One photo that caught the woman’s eye was one labeled ‘Captain’ with birth and death dates under it. In the photo was a young man, no more than twenty, posing for a photo with you wrapped in his arms, more like a headlock, holding the camera high above you two, tipping your hat off of your head. He looked so much like you, with many dark freckles over his cheeks. He had bright green flames licking over his shoulders. ‘Another flame user?��

“Robin!” Came a call from Nami in the living room. Finally, Robin closed the book and set it back in place, striding over to the younger woman. Nami waved Robin closer over the back of the loveseat, “Find anything?”

Robin winced, “It’s worse than we thought.”

“How?!”

“She’s a Fire Devil Fruit user.” She whispered to Nami.

Nami paled, slapping her hand against her forehead, “Please tell me Sanji’s almost done cooking!” She whined.

Sure enough, the blond cook had just finished, placing platters of pork and toppings up onto the counter along with warm corn tortillas. He had made tacos.

“Food’s ready!” he shouted, the crew quickly rushing the counter, “She had a ton of tortillas on hand, so I thought I’d roll with it.” Sanji muttered, wiping the counters down.

The cook’s eyes scanned the crew who were up and getting the food. Luffy wasn’t there. Sanji gasped, hand slapping over his mouth. The other crew members looked at him, confused until he pointed over their heads, frantically gesturing to the preoccupied pirate. “He isn’t getting food!” Sanji hissed, threading his fingers into his hair and pulled. “This isn’t good.”

All six of them shared a look, Nami urging Zoro to say something, anything to their captain. Zoro’s eyes widened and he shook his head, “I don’t know what the fuck to do!” he whispered through gritted teeth. Still, Nami insisted, gesturing again toward the stewing man. Zoro sighed, but turned around, “Luffy!” he exclaimed. Luffy didn’t even twitch, “Food’s ready. There’s meat!”

Luffy didn’t care. He felt his stomach growl and he thought the smell was amazing, but he couldn’t find it in him to get up. He felt in every fiber of his being that he needed to stay put, ready to see what your problem was when you came back.

The Straw-Hats all shook their heads and shrugged, “Let’s just eat, I’ll bring him a plate.” Robin insisted, grabbing a plate. They all did the same, with grumbles of worry and agreement. You didn’t have a dining room, so the pirate crew went back to their spots in your living room, Sanji and Zoro joining Luffy on the couch, the stretchy captain between them.

Luffy didn’t even touch the plate next to him, ignoring the soft conversation around him, barely even blinking.

Usopp scanned the room, noticing a record player next to your fireplace, a box full of vinyl records under its little table. The sniper thought, surely this might help. Luffy loved music and dancing. So, he set his food aside, finishing a bite of the juicy taco before wiping his hands on his pants and getting up, quietly stepping over to the player. He just grabbed one from the top of the pile, sliding it out of its sleeve and setting it up, gently resting the needle on its grooved surface.

Fun, rhythmic music with lots of wild drum and guitar came from the record, Usopp bouncing his head to the beat.

Luffy, on the other hand, tensed, head whipping over to stare daggers at the music player, frown deepening.

“What now?” Zoro groaned through a bite of his taco.

Luffy grit his teeth as he spoke, eyes fiery with rage, “Ace liked that song. Danced to it all the time.” He hissed. The whole room seemed to freeze, Sanji choked on a bite of his food, and Usopp frantically moved to take the needle off of the record. Luffy flopped onto the couch, sitting properly, but with crossed arms and slumped posture. “Who does she think she is? Is she trying to copy Ace or something?” Luffy grumbled, “Thinks she’s so great…”

The room dissolved into silence, the only sound was the occasional rustle of fabric when someone readjusted their posture and the whistling of the whipping wind. And that’s how the Straw-Hats sat for another twenty minutes, Luffy never once even looking at the plate of food.

Everyone flinched, Chopper shrieking as the scrape of wood on wood rang through the room. You were back. Luffy shot up, stomping over to wait for you to force your way through. When the door cracked open, you had to fight to not let it swing wildly, forcing it shut behind you. When you managed to get inside, you unraveled your robe from your body, shaking sand all over the floor before taking off your goggles and hat, shaking them out before shaking out your hair. All the while, Luffy sat patiently, an intense glare piercing through you. You, however, didn’t notice. Giggling as you let the sand fall all around you.

“Woo-ee!” you exclaimed, “Wasn’t expecting another storm like this for another month! Sorry it’s interrupting your visit!” you apologized, kicking off your boots, turning them upside down, letting a comical amount of sand accumulate under you. You noticed the uncharacteristic silence and finally looked up, eyes locking with Luffy’s enraged gaze, flinching back in response.

You eyed the pirate, brows pinched together, but continued hanging up your gear by the door, finally hanging your hat on a hook. “Can I help you?” you huffed, trying to keep it light.

Now, people also thought Luffy was a lot more innocent than he really was. He hung around Shanks, Ace was his brother, he’s a damned pirate. All of which became very clear when he opened his mouth, spitting out, “Where the fuck do you get off, lady?”

You blinked, trying to process the out of character attitude, raising your hands up, “I can’t control the weather, dude.”

Luffy shook his head and stomped up to you, reaching over your shoulder and snatching your hat off its hook, shaking it in your face, “This.” Luffy hissed, “Is my brother’s hat. You have his favorite music; you have a damned wind chime with beads just like his necklace. What’s the fuckin deal.”

You scowled, snatching your hat from Luffy’s hands, “It’s not his fucking hat! I’ve had this thing since I was twelve. My uncle gave it to me!” you snapped back holding Luffy back with your foot, keeping him from grabbing it back from you. You huffed and threw it over your neck, letting it hang behind you, “This whole island is covered in those beads, and it’s not my fault your brother has good taste!”

“Had.” Luffy grumbled, clenching his jaw.

You sighed, running your hand down your face, “Sorry, dude.” You muttered, holding your thumb and forefinger over your eyes, “What was his name?” you asked, not moving your hand.

Luffy narrowed his eyes, a fire burning in his belly, “Ace.”

You shook your head, “Don’t know him.” You insisted, dropping your hand to your side, setting your other on your hip.

“Portgas D. Ace. Firefist Ace.” Offered Nami from the living room, a mere four feet away, the whole crew watching you closely.

You blinked a few times, your mouth running dry, “Portgas is dead?” you whispered, your whole body language dropping immediately. You could almost hear a ringing in your ears, a whisper of his laughter. “You’re…Luffy, his Luffy?”

Luffy nodded, jamming a finger into your sternum, leaning in close, “How do you know him?”

You smacked his hand away, snarling out, “We were friends while I was a pirate. Got along cause of our Devil Fruits.” You stated, holding Luffy’s glare, a few of your yellow flames licking at your shoulders, “He got that necklace from me. All that music from over there is from here, my home island. He was friends with my brother too.” Luffy opened his mouth to lash out another question or accusation, he didn’t know yet, but you cut him off, “He got that hat here. From my uncle.” You insisted, getting in Luffy’s space, almost nose to nose.

“Funny, he never mentioned you.” Luffy taunted, lip curled, and fists clenched at his side.

Your eyes ran cold and Luffy saw your chin quiver, your flames all extinguishing at once, “He talked about you all the time.” You whispered, shoving past Luffy, heading toward your bookcase.

Luffy stuttered for a moment, but shook it off and followed you closely, “Why wouldn’t Ace have mentioned you?”

But you just shoved past him again, an aged leather book in your hands. “Sit.” You hissed, dragging Luffy by his ear to sit on the floor in your living room, plopping next to him in front of your coffee table, slapping the large book onto the banged up, glossy wooden surface.

Robin’s eyes widened as she recognized the book, and all of the other Straw-Hats leaned in close to get a look at what you were trying to show Luffy.

You flipped through the pages, ignoring Luffy’s gripes from beside you, slamming a hand down onto the page you were looking for. “Look.”

It was a set of pages labeled “Portgas” with multiple pictures of you, Ace, and your captain, all laughing, in multiple you three were all covered in flames. Each photo was dated and had little details in the margins like, “tried making s’mores with all of our flames, only Portgas’s tasted good.” “dork” and “always stole my hat”. There were pictures of you three on your ship, on the island, at parties, dancing. Many didn’t have you at all, just your captain and Ace.

“Portgas was older than me, so he hung out with my brother most of the time. He was like a second brother to me.” You started, a sad, faraway look in your eyes.

Robin gasped silently, a hand covering her mouth, ‘Her brother was her captain.’ She realized, flashes of words running past her eyes, namely “No survivors” and “One survived.” Luffy was about to hit a sore spot, but Robin could only look on in horror, unable to stop him.

“We all practiced using our Devil Fruits together and hung out anytime he was able to swing by the ship or by here.” You went on, ignoring Luffy’s brewing emotions next to you, “He was my brother’s best friend.”

“Not my fault your brother has good taste.” Luffy mocked, rolling his eyes. It irritated him how you acted like you had a right to mourn Ace like he did. He wasn’t your brother. He was Luffy’s brother.

“Had.” You whispered; jaw clenched.

The crew around you actively flinched, all looking at each other in a panic. All eyes on you as you rushed to your feet, mumbling about taking a shower. Robin quietly slipped away to check on you, following you down a hallway off the kitchen.

Luffy felt a white-hot shock run through him, making his heart skip a beat. He felt like he should feel bad for making you upset, for reminding you of your dead brother like you had reminded him of his, but he didn’t. He couldn’t find it in him. So, he still stewed, greedily taking in the photos in the book in front of him. Luffy couldn’t help the sting in his eyes as he stared at one particular photo. It was of Ace getting his ASCE tattoo. You were there holding his hand as your brother ran the tattoo needle over Ace’s skin, Ace had a dramatic grimace on his face, and you were right there laughing at him. All three of you were wearing matching orange hats.

“Why wouldn’t he have told me about them?” Luffy muttered, fighting back tears.

His crew all panicked again, unsure of how to continue. “Maybe it just didn’t come up?” Chopper offered, tilting his head to try and meet Luffy’s eye.

“I asked him about the hat. I asked him about all kinds of stuff that’s in this stupid book. He didn’t tell me about it.” Luffy felt the fiery pit of anger and grief bubbling inside him again, “Ace hid this stuff from me.”

Nami slid off of the loveseat she sat on and crouched down to Luffy’s level. “I’m sure he had a good reason.” She said trying to lay a comforting hand on Luffy’s arm. He snatched the limb away, making Nami startle.

“Stop being a brat.” Zoro barked, “You’re being mean.”

Luffy just set his jaw again, tapping his finger on the coffee table, “I’m fine.” He insisted, whirling away to a hallway off of the front door, trying to find somewhere to be alone.

“Let him go, marimo.” Sanji insisted, jutting an arm out to stop Zoro from rushing after him, “I think he needs to cool off.” Zoro just grumbled, settling deeper into the ugly, comfortable couch.

“I don’t know why he’s acting like this.” Robin said apologetically as you rushed around your bedroom, grabbing out clothes and a towel for your shower. “He’s never like this. I’m actually quite worried.”

You shrugged, a wry chuckle slipping from your lips. “I’m sorry I brought it out of him.”

Robin worried her bottom lip between her teeth, “I’m serious, he’s always a bouncy little ball of sunshine.”

“Grief does weird shit.” You reasoned, suddenly freezing your movements, looking far off somewhere, somewhere nowhere near the island, “Is Portgas really dead?” you whispered, clutching the shirt in your hand with a white-knuckle grip.

Robin nodded sadly, “I’m afraid so. He died protecting Luffy.”

Your knees buckled a bit, Robin rushing to catch you. You finally let the tears fall, “Did you see it?” you asked lowly, holding tight to Robin’s arm. Robin simply nodded, running a hand up and down your arm.

“Did he die smiling?” you whispered. Robin flinched back, confused, “All three of us said we’d go down in a fight, and we’d be happy about it, a no regrets kinda thing. That we’d all die with a smile.” You explained, face running wet as you let out shuddered breaths, “My brother did. I’m only alive because he protected me. He died in my arms and was smiling, trying to make me laugh before he died.”

Robin swallowed the lump in her throat, taken aback by the similarities between you and Luffy and Ace. “He did. He passed away with a smile on his face in Luffy’s arms.” She muttered back.

You sobbed, burying your face in your hands, “I’m all alone.” Robin tried to reassure you otherwise, sure you had more people in the town, but you shook your head, “I was about to go looking for Portgas because there’s no one left. I’m an orphan, my uncle raised me and my brother. He’s dead. My whole-“ you choked up, “my whole crew was killed, all I had left was hoping to find Portgas and join whatever crew he was in. Now, he’s gone too. Now I’m being hunted by the Marines and all I have is my house.” You practically spilled your guts to the older woman, leaning into her warm embrace. “I don’t want to die.”

Robin knew what it felt like to be alone, to be an enemy of the World Government, she knew what it was like to be the sole survivor of a massacre even. So, as she looked at the shaking young woman in her arms, flashes of a certain captain’s smile, echoes of her own screams rattled through her mind.

“I WANT TO LIVE!”

Her eyes stung with the threat of tears as she shushed you gently, running her fingers along your spine. Should she have asked first? Yes. Did she? No. Did she regret it? Never.

“Come with us.”

You gasped in a breath, ripping your face from your hands, “But-but your captain-!”

“Will come to his senses.” Robin hummed gently.

You wiped your face and analyzed Robin’s features, looking for any dishonesty and you found none, only gentle eyes and a soft smile. A whole new wave of emotions washed over you, new tears welling over your waterline, and you threw yourself into the woman, wrapping your arms around her neck, sobbing into the high collar of her shirt. Robin just smiled, rocking you in the embrace, gently rubbing your back.

“Thank you.” You whispered through shuttered breath, pulling away and wiping your eyes, “I would love to sail with all of you, if you’ll have me.”

Robin grinned, ushering you to your feet and guiding you toward your bathroom, whispering little bits of encouragement into your ear before leaving you alone in the room, heading back to the living room, still smiling.

You took off your hat from around your neck and set it on the counter, looking at your haggard reflection, no sound but the whistling wind and the scratch of sand against the window. Your eyes were red, face puffy. You stared for a moment at your freckles, hating how much they reminded you of your lost loved ones. You took in the dirt and soot around your face, interrupted by your tear streaks and the pattern of your goggles.

You sighed and turned on the water, letting it heat up and took off your t-shirt, looking at your shoulder in the mirror, namely your tattoo you had there. It circled the muscle of your shoulder, a simple black image of a spotted salamander with fire framing its sides. You had gotten it right after Ace had gotten his, your brother doing the inking, and you had sat much more stable than Ace did.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you began to strip the rest of the way, walking under the rushing warm water.

“She’s coming with us.” Robin said simply, taking a seat back on the purple chair she had claimed, Chopper coming up and sitting in her lap. The other pirates all winced and voiced their confusion and disagreement, silenced by Robin raising a hand, a fierce look of command shining in her eye. “I’m not asking. I’m telling. She’s all alone with a massive bounty. Besides, she’s a glass blower, and she doesn’t even need a forge to do it. You don’t think that would ever come in handy?” she insisted, not allowing any argument. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you.”

Robin used her Devil Fruit abilities to summon a hand on the coffee table, flipping to the pages with your bounty poster, the newspaper clippings of your antics with the Marines, and finally the single clipping that told the story of your passed crew, all the while verbalizing what the group was reading.

The group had gasped at your bounty, Sanji even questioning if the picture was really you, a shiver running up his spine. They marveled at your various escapades, all falling silent when they heard about the dead Admiral, Nami asking what he did to piss you off. The little clipping with your promise and tally made them fall silent, all of them understanding. Zoro saying he’d do the same and more if anything like that happened to the Straw-Hats.

“She’s one of us, whether Luffy realizes it or not.” Robin finished, closing the book. “Now, without Ace, she’s completely alone. No family, all her friends were on that crew, and frankly she’s in danger if she stays here.” She said resolutely, holding Chopper a little tighter in her hands. “I asked, she agreed, she’s coming.”

The crew all sat back and nodded, silently running the idea through their heads. “What about Luffy?” Usopp finally asked. “He’s having problems breathing the same air as her.”

Robin shook her head, “He’s grown. He can cope.”

The other pirates all huffed out laughs, a few rolled eyes here and there. “How do we tell him?” Sanji asked.

Nami waved him off, “Let’s wait until tomorrow. Maybe we should wait until we’re like a day away from leaving.” She suggested, “But we shouldn’t tonight. We need to get Luffy to bed and reassess in the morning.”

Little verbalized agreements sounded out from the group.

Luffy found his way into a large, dark room. He groped around the wall to find a light switch, flipping it quickly when he found it. The space lit up and he saw he was in a room with a metal roof and walls. The windows were all fogged from the abuse of years of sandstorms just like this one. The room was full of colorful glass sculptures, they seemed to cover every surface, a rainbow of fragile art in all different shapes and sizes. Luffy walked up to a particular table full of clear glass bottles, a bucket of corks next to them. Each bottle was perfectly uniform, the only reason he could tell them apart was some of them had small bubbles in their surfaces.

He picked one up and looked at it closely, noting some words on the bottom of it. Luffy flipped it over and read it. “Dragon Glass Co.” Luffy glowered at the name, setting it back onto the table and continued exploring. In one area there was a table full of tools, all different types of hammers, pliers, and wrenches scattered all around. In the middle of the table was a wooden box, holes predrilled into the lid, ready for hinges. The box’s lid had a window of green glass, flame etchings on the surface.

Over the workbench sat pictures all over the wall. Pictures of you with an old man, here in this room. Pictures of you and the guy Luffy assumed was your brother goofing off and having fun. There was even a picture of Ace, an embarrassed blush all across his face as he held up a measly glass sculpture, a little orange…blob. The frame had a little plaque, “Portgas’s first time.” Luffy frowned at the double entendre, not appreciating the joke. Luffy turned away from the wall of photos and sighed, sliding down against the wall, curling up his knees into his chest.

Luffy loved his friends, loved his crew with his whole heart, but it wasn’t the same. First, he lost Sabo, then Ace, and it bored a hole into Luffy’s heart, his soul, his very being. He thought he had dealt with it well, thought he had coped like he was supposed to, but there he was, hopelessly and irrationally angry at a woman for just…being friends with his brother. Well, it was more than that to him. It ran way deeper than just that, and Luffy just couldn’t shake the thought, ‘Why didn’t Ace tell me about her? About her brother? Any of it?’ Ace told him everything, or so he thought. Ace would even tell him all kinds of little things like how he liked his eggs, how he hated wearing shirts most of the time because the seams irritated his skin and overheated him with his Devil Fruit. He’d sit and tell Luffy about girls, about his day, about life and love and death and everything in between. But he never mentioned you and it ate at Luffy, like a termite biting at a house’s foundation. ‘Why?’

You padded into the living room, hair still dripping a bit onto your bare shoulders. You had changed into a simple cropped tank top and soft, flowy pants, and still you had your hat hanging from your neck. You didn’t usually wear it around the house, but Luffy’s ranting and snatching made you protective, so it never strayed far from you. “Hey, guys.” You said, sitting next to Nami on the loveseat. “Let me know when you’re ready to turn in for the night and I’ll show you to your rooms.”

“How big is this house?” Usopp asked incredulously, “It looked kinda small from outside other than the big metal garage.”

You shrugged with a smile, “It’s compact, but there isn’t any space wasted.” You said, smile dropping a bit as you continued, “Used to have a lot more people in it.”

Zoro reached over and kicked Usopp in the knee, “Nice going.” He chided.

“It’s okay.” You assured the guilty looking sniper, “It’s just a little raw today.”

Robin’s eyes shot wide, one twitching slightly as she remembered the dates. It was the day before the three-year anniversary of the slaughter of the Spotted-Salamanders. ‘Could any of this get any worse?’

“It’s my brother’s birthday tomorrow.” You muttered, curling your knees up to your chest.

Robin almost choked, ‘I should have read those dates more carefully!’

“It’s also the day he died.” You went on. The Straw-Hats tensed in sympathetic winces, “Marines got a jump on us cause we were all celebrating on the ship. I’m sure you read the articles,” you said, gesturing to the book still on the coffee table. “Made me think twice about being your tour guide, but I thought it’d be a nice distraction.” You said with a light giggle, drawing a snort of a laugh from Zoro and making Robing bite back a chuckle.

“A beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn’t have to go through such suffering.” Sanji said, ever the flirt, eyes practically heart shaped as he stared at you.

You blinked at the man, confused, “Aren’t you like 30?” you asked flatly.

Sanji practically collapsed, “I’m twenty-one!” he whined.

You shrugged, “The facial hair threw me off, sorry.”

“Don’t worry-“ Zoro cut him off with a harsh smack to the back of the head, stopping him from continuing his flirting.

“Shup up, you perv.” He hissed, “She’s not interested.”

Sanji flung himself back up, “Like she’d be interested in you, moss head!”

“I never said that!” Zoro growled, clenching his hand into a fist.

“Cause it wouldn’t happen!” Sanji exclaimed, sticking out his tongue in mockery.

You frowned, “No fighting under my roof, or I’ll make you help me sweep out my house from the dunes when the storm stops.”

“We’ll help you do that anyhow, sweetheart.” Robin assured you, Chopper agreeing in her lap.

You bobbed your head, mulling something over, “Then I’ll make them do it with their hands.” You chided, wiggling your brows at the blanching boys. “In wet bathing suits, then you’ll really feel that sand where you don’t want to.” Making the cook and swordsman fling apart, facing away from each other on their respective ends of the couch.

Nami and Usopp spluttered out laughs, Robin only chuckling quietly.

“You two aren’t my type anyway.” You teased.

Nami perked up, “Who is?”

You kinda shrugged, “I always go for brunettes who make me laugh,” you chuckled.

Usopp’s mouth worked faster than his brain sometimes, “Did you date Ace?” his crew members immediately sending Usopp glares.

Your face dropped in pure mortification, “Portgas was older than my brother! And was gross! Do you have any idea how rank his pits could get? And he practically was my brother after a while.” You explained, nose scrunched in disgust, “I’ve seen that man make out with a fish when he got drunk,” You started, numbering out the reasons as you spoke, “I’ve had to help him run away from his angry exes on multiple occasions, cause he always was an ass boyfriend to them cause he only existed as a goofy noncommittal flirt when he got around anything with lip-gloss and boobs,” you started to laugh as you went on, enjoying the smiles all around you, “I mean, the longest relationship I saw him have was his friendship with my brother! One time my whole crew had to bail him out because he was being chased off an island because he hooked up with a mafia boss’s daughter the day of her wedding. In the church!” you exclaimed. “I’d have a better time looking for a boyfriend in Impel Down!” The room erupted into laughter; deep belly laughs as you told your stories.

“So Luffy’d be more your type?” Nami teased without thinking. Her eyes shot wide when she realized what she’d said, trying to take it back.

You grabbed her waving hands and told her it was okay, a soft chuckle rumbling through you. “I don’t really know what he’s normally like,” you started, letting Nami’s hands go, noting the heavy tension in the air, “but from what you guys keep saying, yeah, honestly.”

The Straw-Hats let out a collective sigh and relaxed back into their plush seats. “He really isn’t like this.” Chopper chimed, “He’s normally super nice and funny.”

You nodded and shrugged, “Maybe he’ll warm up to me.”

“I’m sure he will.” Chopper insisted with a yawn.

Robin smiled down at the young reindeer, “Sleepy, Little One?” Chopper tried to say no, but a big yawn interrupted him. “Mind showing us where we can get some sleep?”

You nodded and popped up out of your seat, gesturing for everyone else to do the same, “I’ll show you all at the same time.” The whole crew followed you as you walked into the hallway off of the kitchen again, walking past a few open doors to the left, one was the door of a small bedroom with two twin beds, one quite messy and obviously slept in, the other made neatly, dust settling on the headboard. The other door was of a small bathroom, “This is the only bathroom, so share. No fighting.” You said, eyeing Zoro and Sanji with a playful glare. “Feel free to use the shower, I don’t care if you use my soap and stuff.” The group then turned to the right, being met with a large, closed door. You shoved through the group and popped open the door, flipping a light switch, “You all can sleep in here.” You said, ushering the pirate crew into the large room.

It was a simple room, as were most things in your house, with a few windows around two of the walls, a glass door to the outside on one wall. The room had three bunk beds, all securely bolted to the wall and the ground, one up against a wall, the others sat parallel, two hammocks connecting each of them around the top. The room had plenty of space otherwise, taken up by bedrolls and fluffy rugs over the cool stone floor. The walls were covered in haphazardly placed hooks for coats and hats, otherwise scattered with more photos and a few, ornate glass flowers and starburst sculptures hanging from the ceiling, bathing the room in rainbows of light.

The pirate crew filed in with mouths agape in awe, an instant feeling of home filling all of their chests. “Wow,” Nami breathed out, “This is really nice.”

You had a soft smile on your face, gently holding the doorframe, “This used to be where my crew would crash between our voyages.” You said, exaggerating the last word, “My house became our little dry base of operations. Which makes sense cause my brother was the captain and I was the first mate,” you chuckled.

“You didn’t say you were first mate,” Zoro stated with a furrowed brow.

You shrugged, “Never mattered.”

“Did you make these?” Robin asked, reaching a hand up to touch a blue starburst.

“Yup! Made em with blood, sweat, and tears…and a bit of me,” you laughed at the perturbed faces of the pirates around you. “Here, watch!” you exclaimed, shooing everyone away from you in a wide berth, placing a rounded fist to your lips, blowing through the gap. The pirates all watched in curious awe as a small, molten hot balloon of glass blew out of the other end of your fist, using your free hand to cradle the glass. All the while, small yellow flames licked up your arms and flicked around your face, most of them blowing into the bubble of glass in your hand. When the glass was about the size of a coconut you took your fist away from your mouth, pinching your hand closed, grabbing the glowing glass with your free hand, both of which were glowing with heat. You quickly got to work pinching at it, pushing and pulling at its shape with ease, making it into something the Straw-Hats couldn’t quite make out yet. When you were satisfied, you held the glass out in front of you, the glow dying from your hands and the glass. When it fully cooled, the Straw-Hats were able to see that it was a small, red sculpture of Chopper! Little hat, hooves, and all! You carefully knelt down in front of the reindeer, handing it to him with care.

Chopper took it eagerly, shocked at the cold, solid feeling, “It’s me!” he exclaimed, a giddy smile on his face.

You nodded right back, a big smile on your face, “You can put it in your window and watch it make some of your room red.” Chopper excitedly handed the glass off to Robin next to him, launching you into a quick hug before a loud yawn sounded next to your ear, making you giggle. “Where do you want to sleep, Chopper?” you asked, holding him to your shoulder as you rose.

“Hammock,” he said sleepily, pointing with a hoof at the closest one. You complied quickly, placing him into the swinging fabric, tucking him into a plush pillow.

The other human pirates huddled around Robin, looking closely at the small sculpture of their little reindeer doctor, enamored with the detail.

“So cool!” Usopp whispered, poking at glass Chopper’s head.

“You guys ready to sleep?” you asked, startling the group other than Robin who had watched you walk up.

Zoro and Usopp nodded, climbing into different bunk beds with little “Good night”’s.

Sanji and the girls looked between themselves, “I don’t usually go to bed until pretty late, cause I’m prepping breakfast.” The cook said with a shrug.

You waved him off, “Don’t even think about it, I’ll make breakfast in the morning. Take an early night.” You commanded, shoving him toward one of the bunk beds. Sanji put up no fight, just awkwardly shifted under the covers, a little unsure of what to do with himself.

You then turned to the girls, curious what their reasons were.

“I refuse to sleep in the same room as that pervy cook.” Nami said simply, crossing her arms.

You just shrugged, “You can take my bed.” You suggested.

“I can’t take your bed.” She declared, the heat of embarrassment flushing her cheeks.

“I insist.” You assured, “Just don’t touch the other bed. You’ll know which one’s mine. My name’s on the headboard.” You gently shoved Nami into the hallway, turning away so she couldn’t argue, looking at Robin with a quirked brow.

“I want to make sure Luffy gets to bed first.” Robin said, guiding you by the middle of your back out of the room, flicking off the light but keeping the door open. “You head to sleep, and I’ll grab him.” She whispered.

You nodded and walked away from her, into the living room and plopped onto the beat-up couch, grabbing a blanket off the back and relaxing into one of the plush pillows you had there, resting your hat over your eyes, “Light switch is by the front door, sleep well, Robin.” You said, voice muffled by the hat over your face.

Robin smiled and went ahead and flicked off the light by producing a hand out of the wall, her night vision better than most. Robin quietly strode down the hallway Luffy had stormed off into and quickly found a single door, opening it as silently as possible.

When inside, Robin’s eyes searched the workshop, taking in all of the colors, mostly looking for a certain straw hat. Her eyes locked onto the curled-up figure of her captain, his eyes staring blankly, straight ahead.

“Captain.” She called, walking her way over to him, crouching in front of him. His eyes never moved, staring through her, “Captain, it’s time to go to sleep.” She said softly. Luffy didn’t even acknowledge her, “I’m going to give you one more chance to get up on your own, or I’m dragging you to bed kicking and screaming.” Robin stated, resting a hand on the young man’s head.

Luffy took her hand off his head, “I’m not tired.”

Robin shook her head with a smile, “It’s late, you’re usually asleep by now. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Why does she get to know all this stuff, why’d she get so much time with him?” Luffy asked, tears pricking at his eyes.

Robin’s heart pulled, “I don’t know, Luffy. These things happen, and sometimes we never know why.” She whispered, “Maybe you could ask her to tell stories about Ace, learn what she knows about him. I’m sure he’d be happy to know you two were getting along.”

A few tears fell from Luffy’s eyes, “If he would be happy we were around each other, why’d he never tell me about her?” he insisted, shoving his face into his hat.

Robin pursed her lips and sighed, “I don’t know, Luffy. But you’ll never get an answer unless you get to know her properly.” Luffy shrugged, face still hidden, “C’mon, let’s go to bed.” She urged, grabbing the young man’s hand and rising to her feet, Luffy reluctantly standing with her.

When they stood straight, Robin gently took Luffy’s hat in her hands and pushed it back onto the top of his head, exposing his watery eyes and red nose. Without a word, Robin pulled him into a hug, resting her chin on top of his head. They stayed there for a while, who knows how long, until Luffy yawned, making Robin pull back.

Silently, Luffy let the older woman guide him through the dark house into a room with windows that filtered in a bit of light, the light snores of his crewmates filling Luffy’s ears. Robin gestured to the beds and hammocks, waiting for Luffy to choose where he wanted to sleep, and he slowly trudged his way toward one of the hammocks, hoisting himself up into it. Robin followed closely, helping him settle into the covers.

When her captain was comfortable, she patted his chest and slipped toward the empty bunk bed, the boys taking over two. She cuddled under the covers, looking at the bed above her. She was drifting off to sleep, her eyes fluttering shut. That’s when they snapped open, landing on a small, white envelope tucked between the boards above her. She reached up and tugged it out of its confines, reading the envelope in the dark. It had Luffy’s name on it, and it said it was from Ace. Robin’s heart dropped into her feet as she realized what it said. She quickly shoved what she thought might be a letter into her pillowcase, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. What could be in that letter? Why was it hidden in your house if it was for Luffy?

[frvnkcastles]

hiii!! i hope you're okay ❤️ so i was thinking of a frank x reader where she's asthmatic but hasn't had an attack for a long time, so they're watching a movie and she has a very strong attack and he helps her and comforts her.

thank you, i love the way you write ❤️❤️❤️❤️

FEEL THE RUSH ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You have an asthma attack, and Frank is there to help.

Warnings: Asthma attack, language

Word count: 1k

Author’s note: Anon I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this! Thank you so much for your kind words, I hope you enjoy this <3

Maybe you had been foolish to sink into the false sense of hope and security — maybe you had been foolish to think another attack simply wasn’t going to rear its head and you could live your life without care or worry about the air in your lungs.

Truthfully, it was something you always had to deal with, always a part of your daily routine that you had just grown accustomed to. Being asthmatic could be a real pain in your ass, but for the most part, it was manageable. For the past months, you had been spared of an attack, and you almost forgot how constricting and terrible it could be.

You liked to think your sudden lack of symptoms had something to do with the man by your side. He seemed to make everything better, after all. You had been friends for a long time, but a few months back, he had taken the plunge and kissed you — with caution, as not to take your breath away entirely. He had worked backwards, first cradling your face in his massive hands and clashing his perfect lips against yours, noses brushing together as he handled you with ease and effortlessness… and only after, he shyly backed away, wondering out loud if you’d do him the honor of joining him for a date. He had enchanted you entirely and you had agreed in a heartbeat, and ever since then, you had been inseparable.

He spent a lot of time at your apartment, and it already felt like he belonged there, like he was what turned it from a house into a home. You were completely comfortable with the burly, hulking man who fixed your furniture and learned the contents of your kitchen cabinets in an effort to cook you dinner even without asking. In fact, you were head over heels for him and his tendency to always have his hands all over you, sometimes in a protective manner, sometimes hungry and needy to feel your body under his calloused fingertips. He made every day a dream come true, heaven on earth, and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

So, it was easy to forget about your health concerns. He was the concerned one, always looking out for you and making sure you were alright, and you were just happy to have him.

But of course, bliss could only last so long, and you were pulled back into reality on a seemingly uneventful Friday evening, your body nestled against Frank’s with his strong arms around you and your fingers drawing patterns on the back of his cut-up hand. It was all so domestic, something he never thought he’d have again, and in that moment, you were both undoubtedly content.

It started out with a wheeze, a shallow attempt to inhale air into your system. Frank was immediately alerted, well-aware of your condition, and with a cocked eyebrow, he pushed himself off of the soft cushions enough to give you a knowing look full of worry and willingness to jump into action.

”I’m okay”, you managed, but he didn’t settle back into the couch, only continued to observe you, and his instincts proved to be right — in the next second, panic erupted on your face and you felt the familiar, suffocating grip, making it difficult for you to breathe. Your chest tightened and you burst into a fit of coughs, sitting up while struggling to haul air into your lungs.

Without a word, Frank got up from the couch. ”Where’s your inhaler, sweetheart?” he asked with a clear and firm voice, trying to stay calm and rational as he quickly glanced around the living room.

”The—the bedroom?” you theorized, silently cursing yourself for neglecting your inhaler. It had been months since you had had a full-blown attack, and days since you had needed to prevent smaller symptoms with the device, and in the rush of the moment, it was hard to think back to where you had left it.

Frank wasted no time, making his way to the bedroom

where you heard him ransack every nook and cranny. You tried to control your wheezing and regain composure, but it seemed the symptoms were only getting worse with every passing second, and it became blatantly obvious that the inhaler alone was going to offer any relief. It scared you, the thought of it being utterly lost, but before you could start panicking any further, Frank was running back to your side.

”Got it. Fucker was in the bedside table”, he announced gruffly, seating himself next to you on the couch while handing over the inhaler. As you desperately brought it up to your mouth, Frank caressed your cheek and wiped astray strands of your hair behind your ear. ”It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be better soon”, he spoke with reassurance, swallowing thickly as he watched you slowly get the upper hand.

As you began breathing easier, he smiled, the feeling of being useless subsiding. He hated not being able to help, even if realistically he knew there was nothing else he could do. ”Attagirl. You did so good, sweetheart”, he praised you, leaning in to kiss your temple before lowering his face to your level to meet your stare. ”Feelin’ better?” his voice was soft as he addressed you, care in every word.

You nodded, the panic in you melting away as you gripped the inhaler with a vice-like hold. ”I’m never losing track of this thing again”, you grumbled, making Frank chuckle as he gently pulled you into his arms and stroked your back.

”Y’know I hate bein’ so fuckin’ useless. Just wanna make it better for you”, he lamented, and with a tender smile, you hugged him tight.

”You’re not useless. I would’ve been screwed if I had to start looking for the inhaler myself”, you reminded, and supposing you were right, Frank nodded.

”Fair ’nuff, sweetheart. Lemme know if you ever need anythin’ else from me, aight? I’m here for ya”, he swore, and full of love for the man and his big heart, you withdrew from his embrace just enough to place a careful kiss right on his lips. He returned the fervor, greedily kissing you back, almost losing his cool as he ached for more of you.

”Thanks, Frankie. You’re my hero”, you grinned, half-joking, and with a snort, he rolled his eyes.

”You’re your own hero, pretty girl. ’M just the lucky asshole who gets to admire you in all your glory.”

[ashlynniis-bracketeers]

REBORN KING GREGOR {Limbus Company}

Woe, extremely self-indulgent concept be upon ye. A.K.A. "What if Gregor got an ID where he was both happy with himself (not in the "throws himself into being a weapon" sense) AND more bug?"

I've had this design/concept, through multiple revisions, sitting around for ages. Finally got around to making a colored piece of him after seeing some people theorize that he's going to Bug Out™ at some point after what we've seen in the new Intervallo. So I decided to take this concept back out of the shed to finally post it publicly. The two sketch pages are a hodgepodge of sketches of different ages from multiple other concepting sheets lmao. He deserves to be both happy and more bug at the same time. Most of his "happy" IDs have him lack his bug arm.

Meet Gregor, the Reborn King! He's a funky earwig-mantis-roach thing that runs his own cult of personality.

I'm not going to hash out any coin or Sin Affinity info, because I don't know what to give him for those things. I also don't know if he'd work better as a Bleed + Poise unit or Bleed + Rupture unit. All I know is that his "in-game" gimmick would basically be Dawn-Office Fixer Sinclair and Wild Hunt Heathcliff's "form change" gimmicks taken to the extreme: Progressing through multiple forms where he cannot change back after reaching the next form (kind of like a Pokemon evolution). These forms are Base (1), Chrysalis (2), and Reborn King (3). Base needs to build up enough stacks of a unique status (which I'm calling "satiety" for now), which then makes him enter Chrysalis, which he needs to survive (with special Guard skills) for a specific amount of turns to emerge as the speedy glass cannon that is the Reborn King state. Each state has completely different moves and/or Affinities.

TL;DR for this Greg's story: His bug mutations became more severe, and then one day his body made a chrysalis, and then he came out both as Extra Bug and with both human arms back. Then he founded a cult... or maybe the cult found him. Who knows lmao. Compared to being treated like an animal, a mere tool, a weapon with no humanity, running a cult is a pretty sweet gig. Definitely a better gig than a lot of fates in the City lmao.

(Meta + in-universe) Info:

- His cult is simply known as the "Cult of the Reborn King".

- He's got little mantis feetsies at the end of his big claws! I drew them (and the feet on his legs) simplified.

- He's got the mantis shimmy when walking. You know the one. He prefers to fly when wanting to get anywhere with any good speed.

- The amount of bug limbs he has is asymmetrical. One on the right side of his face, two on his neck, his two big claws, one tiny claw on the right side of his torso, and four legs, making for ten bug limbs in total (not counting wings and tail). If they were symmetrical, then there would be twelve.

- His general body shape/posture and big claws are that of a mantis, while the wings and tail shape/pincers are those of an earwig. Pinchy tail and big fancy wings that fit in a tiny elytra. - (Fun fact: Did you know that roaches, mantises, and termites are all related? They're all Dictyopterans.)

- He probably has a Mouth of a Thousand Nightmares if he fully opens it. Just don't let him catch you catching him cleaning his claw-feet like how mantises do it and you should be fine lmao.

- Unlike earwigs, he has a stinger. No venom or ovipositor, he just Fucking Stabs You. It's retractable, so he generally keeps his pincers closed over it.

- The extra asymmetrical limbs + plating on his face are based off of the G Corp Manager Corporal Gregor ID.

- The thing he's holding is a fancy smoking pipe, its shapes based off of his old pre-chrysalis claw.

I hope you like it!