#part of why this is not in chapter one is because Beta has to build to this level of confidence

[potatomountain]

C:IU CH 3

Chapter Three

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Pairing: Poly 0t8 Ateez x fem reader AU: Mafia/detective Genre: 18+ poly romance, action Word Count: Summary: "Threats" Warnings: 18+, gun violence, fist fighting, death threats, mentions of trauma, sex/suggestive talk AN: Dividers and banner made by me @potatographics. Usual beta readers tagged in masterlist! No editing done! Also- it has been a LONG time since i updated this series so if you are part of the taglist and do not wish to be notified anymore (i get it), comment and ill remove you from it <3

It wasn’t easy getting into the mindset of crime lords when their hearts were filled with turmoil over you, but the five men managed during the car ride.

At least until Mingi, in the driver seat, brought you up again. “So… I’m assuming everyone is aware of what the shitty fucker she went to see tried to do?” He winced at the feeling of Yunho digging his fingers into his thigh, glancing over and taking note of his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, an angry tell of his.

“And how aware are you of it, Malik?” Hongjoong spoke from the back, a hard edge to his tone as he sat between Seonghwa and Jongho. Their eyes met in the mirror and Mingi had the feeling he didn’t have the full story.

With a deep breath, he focused on the road. “I’m aware he tried to kiss her, but I didn’t press for more details, she was shaken up.”

“Oh he did more than that.” Jongho scoffed.

Now Mingi was even more confused, glancing at Yunho, then at Seonghwa, hoping one of them would clarify. It was the latter that spoke up. “He admitted to her face about- fuck I don’t even want to think about it- but I think it’s safe to say the only reason we don’t have one of Minjae’s men putting a hit out on this shitstain is because she wouldn’t want that… and we need his stupid fucking unit.”

“So you heard their conversation? Ah- I see.” Mingi didn’t know what was said but if it was enough for Seonghwa to be calling him a shitstain, then Mingi was all aboard the hate train. “Any idea why she was even there?”

Out of the four others, it was Jongho that spoke up. “Only an idea."

This had Hongjoong and Seonghwa turning to look at him in confusion, even the two in front were pretty shocked. “Well?”

The youngest didn’t meet any of their eyes. “She had been ranting to Yeosang about  wanting to arrest some of the guys that came into the bar and Yeosang explained that we can’t make any arrests ourselves unless they’re thought out otherwise it could backfire. She did ask if another unit made the arrest and handled the police work, if that was more viable.”

“Oh.” Hongjoong said it first, understanding where this was going. The rants they heard about through Yeosang were one of the few things that kept them hopeful you would come out on top of this whole situation; anger was a great motivator after all.

“That’s… not a bad plan actually. And she thought about that before knowing our plans.” Seonghwa smiled to himself, the pride and awe in his tone matched by Hongjoong’s grin.

“Well we’ll just have to carry it out won’t we? She tried it her way, we’ll try it our way.”

Mingi shivered at the undertone their leader spoke with, but no one protested. Instead, he pulled up to the quiet restaurant, taking note of a few cars on the street but that the building itself was dimly lit and only had two guards standing outside giving notice to what was about to go down. “Anyways, Viper time?”

The restaurant itself was a small mom and pop type that wasn’t even open in the evenings, they already had access to the camera’s inside and some audio thanks to their outfits and around the building with some bugs. The anonymity of the Black Pirates usually made it easy to scope out a place before a meeting, even if given just a few hours worth of notice. Having a tech genius on their crew also helped immensely, the buttons on their jackets and Yunho’s glasses serving as cameras and extra audio. They were nothing if not thorough.

After giving the okay to Yeosang to connect to the car and their personal devices, Yunho was the first out of the car followed by Jongho, Seonghwa, then Hongjoong. As driver, Mingi stayed behind, also to keep an eye out in case an ambush or backup was called. Or worse: police.

Their demeanor shifted, Yunho behind the duo leaders while Jongho was in the front, stepping up to the guards and introducing them as the Pirates. He showed off his fingers as if to confirm, then the four were led inside.

Only a handful of men were in the restaurant, quite a few tables pushed aside but four men sat at one in the center, with a handful of guards around the room.

“Total of ten guards. Six here, two up front and two in the back.” Yeosang's voice rang in their ears.

“We already have four men not far from the back entrance, the two in the kitchen will be easiest to take out if things get dicey. The Leaders have a car out back with a driver so that would be their escape route. Sang is tapping into their communications now.” San added on followed by some chatter in the background.

It was maybe a relief when the four heard your voice, calm and focused. “The guard on the left behind the men- he comes into the club a lot. Likes flirting with one of the girls, Cherry. Woo says he's a huge gambler and owes the Boa’s money. He'd probably turn his back on them to pay those fees.”

Of course they couldn't reply, but a glance at one of the cameras from Hongjoong told the four watching they understood. 

Jongho and Yunho pulled the chairs out and had Seonghwa and Hongjoong sitting the next second.

The buffer of the four men sitting scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You expect us to believe you're the leader of the Pirates?”

“Do you want proof?” Hongjoong hummed out with a tilt of his head, eyeing the man down. “Because if you won’t be serious about these negotiations, we can leave and you can pay us the original amount you owe us within a month.” He moved as if to get up, just for the brute to get elbowed by the more slender man next to him, shooting him a venomous glare.

From left to right, it was the head of their prostitution, the actual head of the Vipers -who appeared decently older than the rest-, the brute who was in charge of the fight ring and last, the lanky man responsible for their drugs. Hongjoong cared more about the leader, since this was his first appearance- though that was their main goal. 

A face means they can find who he is outside of the Vipers. Even if that was all they got from this meeting, it was enough.

“Already have his face being run through our data, Captain.” The techie announced even if he didn't need to. Hongjoong knew he would, he trusted him.

If Yeosang managed to cough up any useful information, they could have even more leverage to make sure this meeting went just as they wanted.

He eyed the four of them, gaze harsh on the brute that had dared to question them. “Let us get right into it then. Mars.” He motioned towards Seonghwa who a moment later pulled a folder out from his bag under the leather cape.

Once it was in Hongjoong's hands, he was quick to place it on the table facing the other four. A contract with listed payments and pictures of the properties that they wanted as well. “We don't expect all of these, but these are the options you have. Our listed conditions in the contract however are non-negotiable.”

“A contract? You can't be serious?” The head of the fight ring scoffed again, not at all intimidated by the glares he received.

“We very much are. We take our work seriously, as well as what we are owed. You were warned our help was not going to be free. Or cheap.” Seonghwa added, pointing with a leather clad finger to the contract. “Three of the 6 properties. Different percentages of our cut on products. You get use of one of our docks, as well as contacts of smugglers willing to extend their contract with us to include you. We'll supply some men to make up for the losses you took, but we have free reign to scout any of your existing men as well.”

Staring at the monitors before you, the rest of the talk fell on deaf ears after Seonghwa had said that. The three around you were still laser focused on the screens, listening to the negotiations though only Seonghwa and Hongjoong did most of the talking. You stood right behind Yeosang, San to your left and Wooyoung to your right, the mic in front of you picking up any conversation the four of you had.

Wooyoung had praised them for their location choices, though you couldn't see what they were without leaning in closer and pressing your chest to the back of Yeosang's head; not that it mattered to you right now.

You were still reeling from the weight of Seonghwa's words. “Does that mean…” you whispered, drawing the attention of the two flanking you, “they can get you out of there safely?”

The fear that had risen up when the small war between the Red Wolves and Green Vipers had jeopardized San’s life had never gone away. You hadn’t dared to ask Hongjoong what he planned to get him out, afraid you would not like the answer at all. 

Now you had it. The alliance between the Pirates and Vipers was a perfect opportunity to pull San out without blowing his cover or causing any harm. The most efficient way as well, as he could still technically fight if he needed. Not that you wanted him to. “You tell me, sweetcheeks? What does that pretty brain of yours think it means?” San replied, his tone playful and you could hear the smirk in his words as well.

That was enough of a confirmation for you however, reaching for his hand on instinct as your expression softened. “You’re going to be safe now?”

San took your hand, fingers lacing with yours and his calloused thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“I wouldn’t say safe- nothing about this job is safe Goddess.” Wooyoung felt the need to tease, bursting your bubble a bit.

San shot him a glare over your shoulder, moving a bit closer to you as his gaze settled back on yours. “While he has a point, I know what you mean. Yes it means they can get me out of immediate danger. So you don’t have to worry any more.”

Relief flooded you, muscles relaxing and letting out a breath that seemed to take some of the tension in your body with it. “I’m glad.” Still holding his hand, you tugged him a bit closer until you were side by side enough you could lean your head on his shoulder. You didn’t think about it, just did it, embracing the warmth radiating off him.

Wooyoung whined behind you, the screens forgotten for the moment. “Be touchy with meee~"

“No.” But you had a smile on your lips as he poked at your arm. “Focus baby boy.”

He sighed, but didn’t relent on the poking even as he turned his attention to the screen. “You guys should hurry up, I’m being deprived of attention now.”

“I don’t think now is the time for such banter, Woo.” Yeosang hissed up at him, motioning to the screens. It seemed you had missed an escalation of sorts as one of the Viper leaders was now standing and leaning over the table, glaring down at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, and a smug look on his face as he peered up under the hat at the man twice his size it seemed.

Even through the screen you could feel the tension, the charged atmosphere that would snap at the sound of a pin drop.

“I wouldn’t be acting so smug, little hobbit.” The brute snarled at the Captain, the next second 6 guns aimed at the four of your men.

Fear washed through you, detaching yourself from San’s arm and leaning against the back of Yeosang’s head to see the screen clearer. The man seemed unphased, fingers moving across his board as he was doing something on another screen- your eyes didn’t stray from this one.

“Easy baby, they’re going to be fine.” San attempted to reassure you, his hand sliding over your back, hesitating only when you flinched at the initial contact. “The vipers aren’t that dumb.”

As if to back up what he said, the leader of the four lifted two fingers and the guns were lowered. “No need for that, K, they aren’t a threat.” The man was pulled back to his seat by the viper next to him.

“Would you take us more seriously if we were?” It was Yunho who finally spoke up, a tick in his jaw you could see even in the dim light of the restaurant and camera quality. He was pissed, and now you wondered what you had missed.

What had been said or at least insinuated that would have Yunho staring at the men as if he was ready to kill them?

Nothing was said between the four leaders, but the first man, the head of their prostitution, nodded.

Your eyes widened in shock at what proceeded to play out on the screen. Yunho was quick, dashing around the table and disarming and knocking two of the six guards down, shot another in the knee with the newly acquired gun, and then tossed them to Seonghwa. Seonghwa had caught them with ease and pointed them directly at the two of the leaders that had stood up in the duration of Yunho’s actions: one at K, the other at the head of prostitution.

Jongho was much less graceful, the first guard he disarmed, he simply broke his wrist, resulting in a garbled cry as he took a hit to the stomach. He barely hit the floor before Jongho was swinging a punch at the next guard, grabbing his gun. This one was smarter, letting the gun go and bringing his fist up, connecting with Jongho’s cheek. He got one more hit in before Jongho started his own assault, handling him while he tossed the guns towards Yunho.

Who immediately pointed them both at the remaining guard. The one you had pointed out earlier. Yunho mouthed something to the man that had him dropping his gun in surrender and getting on his knees. Yunho kicked it away from everyone before pointing the guns to the back of the other two leader’s heads, while Jongho knocked out the guard then put the one who surrendered into a hold.

It had happened within half a minute, leaving you stunned.

“Still think we aren’t a threat?” Hongjoong mused, still in the same position he had been in before the brute had sat down. You didn’t relax until the guns were lowered and Yunho and Jongho were standing next to Seonghwa and Hongjoong again. Though relaxed wasn’t the right word; less on edge. There was blood on the side of Jongho’s face, probably from a cut that he wasn’t attending to. It raised the intimidation factor for sure, keeping the others in check.

“It’s always hot how those two handle things.” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, snapping your attention to him. Once your initial concern wore off, laughter bubbled out of your throat and fell from your lips. Small, choked giggles really. “What?! You can’t tell me it’s not hot?”

“I think you’re the only one who finds it hot when we pulverize someone.” San teased from the other side of you, laughing under his breath. “Looks like it’s settled now so no more fighting on their end.”

Wooyoung whined at that, a cute pout on his lips. “Damn. I was hoping Yunho could get a little bloody too. Maybe if they’re worked up enough I can finally get that eiffel tower I’ve been praying-”

“Wooyoung!” Both you and San gasp out while Yeosang looks up at him horrified. The culprit didn’t look the slightest bit ashamed however. “We can talk about this later.” San added on.

The man didn’t seem done with his fun though, leaning in towards you and whispering. “Don’t let him fool you, Sannie gets all worked up after a fight himself. The van we used for his cover- Sangie refuses to listen in because we fucked in it so much at first.”

The hiss behind you and Wooyoung’s pride at his words just had more laughter bubbling up from your chest. “Oh my god, I can believe that. You’re such a slut, it’s cute.” You bipinched his cheeks, not at all realizing you felt a bit lighter.

Not until you turned back to the screen and found Yeosang with his head back, looking up at you with a soft smile. A smile that was mirrored on the other two’s faces. Heat rushed up your neck and burned your cheeks as your focus narrowed in on the screen. It did seem to be going smoother, and Jongho did look fine despite the blood on one side of his face…

You didn’t let yourself hope until the four men were signing the contracts provided, the leader shaking hands with Hongjoong. The older man paled when Hongjoong said a name, but he recovered quickly. So Yeosang had found out about him. When had he told Hongjoong? Perhaps when you were distracted.

“Good job Sangie.” You patted his head gently none-the-less, feeling as if he deserved the praise in the moment.

“Just doing my job… they’ll be coming back soon.” Yeosang didn’t look up, but you assumed he was a bit bashful. He never took your praise well.

Before you could lay more praise on, you were being pulled back by Wooyoung. “So- Sangie can handle it from here. Let’s get a medkit ready for bear and I should have enough time to tell you a story! How about a story of a wickedly handsome rogue spy and the very beautiful and badass cop who wins his heart?”

“Heard that one before.” You teased, knowing damn well he was talking about him and you. “How about… the one of the two undercover morally grey hotties that infiltrate an illegal fight ring?”

Wooyoung perked up at that. “Oh? Are you curious about the van stories? Could always recreate the scene for you.” He was leading you over to the kitchen that also had some medical supplies in one of the cabinets.

With a glance back at San who was still with Yeosang, a soft smile tugged at your lips. “Something like that. I never wanted to ask about the undercover part, just in case it worsened my fear of San’s inability to get out of the mess. But now… I’d like to know more. How it started. Why San. And yes, maybe about this van.”

Setting the kit down on the counter, Wooyoung continued to pull out more needed items. “You know, San told you it was purely sexual the day I kissed him in front of you… you know that’s a lie right?” He was nonchalant with it, but it reminded you of the day regardless. Your surprise when this new person kissed the man you were getting attached to. “When we started this mission, it was a turning point for us. I know he told you I saved him or whatever, but I don’t think the shackles really fell for him until the Vipers.”

Realizing there was more to the story than an undercover identity and a lot of sex in a van, you sat down on one of the stools, all your attention on the man across from you. There were a lot of reasons this piqued your interest, but none greater than the need to know how San broke free of his trauma.

Maybe it could give you the answers to break free of your own. “Tell me.”

Taglist in the reblogs

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[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [7]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

IM BACK

laptop problem is solved. Rushed to finish this so this shit ain't beta read nor proofed, that's for Vuinterro of tomorrow to stress about.

also, what do you all think about having purely the boys' pov at some point in the story? Been thinking about having the boys' perspectives once the courting starts but that's prolly just me

lastly, enjoy this chapter. I hope my tired mind was able to write my vision down clearly, I'll fix the mistakes and add more details later on. Pls comment or like, I'm in desperate need for validation lmao

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Jung Hoseok is not scared.

Sure he screams bloody mary at the sight of bugs a thousand times smaller than him, and yeah he’s easily startled but he’s not scared.

Especially not by a piece of paper, that would be ridiculous!

The reason he went to his noona’s house instead of heading straight to the dorms after the news broke out that his Seokjin hyung is tethered to you is because she needed his help on something, and being the dutiful brother he is, swooped in to save the day!

“At least wash the dishes for me if you’re going to hide in my house because you’re being a scaredy cat,” Jiwoo says from the kitchen archway, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. “I still don’t get why you’re so scared of a piece of paper. The most it’ll do is give you a small cut.”

“Well, that ‘small cut’ still stings a lot!” He argued back, pulling the throw pillow closer to his chest. “And I’m not scared!”

It was irrational how he’s getting cold feet at the thought of the blood result. It’s not like he was hoping to see anything other than ‘negative’ there. 

Jimin would argue that he’s being pessimistic for thinking so but it was the obvious answer if you looked at his family tree. 

From his grandparents’ parents and down to him and his sister, there hasn’t been a single tethered from his bloodline like most of the world’s population. Unlike his Jin hyung who at least had one distant cousin who got a soulmate or his Yoongi hyung who at least had his grandparents as soulmates, his family was barren from such a blessing. His grandpa had joked once, saying their family was cursed for never birthing a single tethered. Ever.

Not even with the people they ended up had ever resulted in having a tethered no matter their family background..

For him to turn out to be a part of your nexus would be a miracle of the highest degree that would make the tales in the bible pale in comparison.

Daring to have himself tested is stupid, he already knew the result and submitting his DNA meant he was hoping.

But hope is nothing in the face of facts, he should be wishing instead; prayer sticks, shaman blessings and all that.

Hoseok knew he was being greedy, wishing to be a part of a nexus relationship as crowded as yours. Growing up with the rest, he knew how much of a handful Jungkook can be on his own, matched with Jimin who now possesses bottomless energy, he has no business trying to squeeze himself in places he can’t fit in. 

Sometimes he thinks he’s being influenced by the fact that he’s being singled out in the group. Now that their oldest has joined the harem, being the odd one out oddly felt ostracizing, being subjected to Taehyung and Jungkook discussing courting gifts, and Yoongi talking to Namjoon about their soulmarks shouldn’t have made him feel bitter but it did. 

“You saying that while pouting on my couch, miles away from your friends who now have your exam result, is not helping your case.”

“If you don’t have anything nice to say to your brother, you shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m saying a lot because I care about you. This,” She says, motioning to him to which he replied with an offended look. “Isn’t healthy. The more you’re hiding away, the more this will haunt you.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ll have hyung over soon.”

“That I am, so just get your shit together and go! I planned a night for us but I had to move it because of you.” She shot back but he knew it had no actual snark behind it. She had welcomed him with warm arms after all.

Hoseok had seen how his friends slowly fell in love with you while he continued to look at you and see a best friend. Seeing how everyone seems to have been captured by you, he got curious.

For a long time since debut, Hoseok had stopped perfecting his craft and pursuing his aspirations to pay attention to someone else. It was uncommon but he too once wished for a soulmate until practice, video shoots, and music production began to eat up most of his time and he forgot about his initial wish.

Seeing his brothers be taken by their best friend, his crush, he couldn't help but be curious how it came to be.

Was it because you were closer to their age and, for the lack of better terms, accessible to them that they had begun to seek the comfort of a lover in you?

“Do you think because she's also been busy with us that she began to seek comfort with us too?”

“Tae, just eat your breakfast.”

It was such a random thought from Tae one random morning, and Hoseok would’ve brushed it off like the other time he gets struck with an idea but this one stuck to him like an annoying ex. The idea loomed over him the whole journey to the company and back home. He grew hypersensitive to how he approached you since that morning and he began to notice the miniscule details he would’ve shrugged off any other day. 

From how your touches would linger on their skin, how you’d comfortably lean in closer to them without batting a single eye at how unusual it may seem to others, he took note of them all. It was how he knew their leader’s feelings for you, even if the man himself hadn't noticed it yet. 

Hoseok found his proof in Namjoon’s eyes that restlessly roamed the room until he’d find you in the bustle of the staff. It was also in the way he’d always reach out for you, may it be when you’d turn to leave and he’d catch a drama-esque scene where instead of calling out for your name, Namjoon would reach for your hand and speak to you with that soft look in his eyes and the genuineness in the dip of his dimples when he smiles.

Eyes never lie nor do the dimples on his cheeks whenever he grins, even when the beholder hasn’t realized it yet.

It was then did he realise how odd your relationship is with them and decided to take a step back to draw a line. 

Friends, especially ones whose gender are opposite of each other, aren’t supposed to be as touchy and comfortable the way you and his brothers are. You didn’t say anything when you noticed and wordlessly respected his decision. He was firm on drawing the line, his sister had questioned his actions but he’s determined, nothing is going to stop him from going back on his decision.

At least until he got sick.

Without any of his brothers available to tend to him as they had to leave for Japan the very day he fainted—he had to pass out while talking to the migration officer, so embarrassing!—, he thought he'd power through it alone for a few days. But then you volunteered to stay back to take care of him and everyone just let it happen as if it's normal.

Which is not.

He'd understand taking care of him during the job but to take a leave of absence just to watch over him because his family is unavailable due to the rough weather at the time, in a house far too big for the two of you while the rest flies to another country. It wasn’t appropriate, not normal at all. 

In the haze of his high fever, he had asked you how you were acting as if the situation was normal and in response, you had hit him lightly with the drenched towel you used to wipe his face.

“Don't be ridiculous. You're one of my best friends even if you’ve been acting up these past few days. I'm not about to leave while you're sick and alone in the dorms. If your family could come to Seoul, I would've left with the others so don't overthink. This is just me being a good friend.”

Cooking for him, wiping his face and making sure he's comfortable in bed—It felt far too domestic to be friendly. 

Familial doesn't sound like the right word either. There’s nothing familial about the butterflies in his stomach when you had kissed his forehead good night that day as a joke when Jimin had called you or when you had woken him up the next day.

Oh how beautiful you were that morning.

He knew at that moment that the goddess of beauty had favorites when she made your skin glow softly under the radiance of the rising morning sun like a halo and had your messy bed hair look frustratingly good on you. 

You were borrowing their clothes that day since you had already got your items shipped with the other staff, Taehyung’s white striped polo hung off on you like a dress and Jimin’s red basketball shorts gobbled up your form yet even with the fabrics dwarfing and hiding the curves of your body, he still thinks you’re the cutest sight he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

You were especially cute in their clothes though.

In his feverish haze, all he could think about was how pleasant it’d be if you were to wake him up every morning like an angel welcoming him to heaven. What he’d give to the world to have you be the first thing he’d see in the morning.

Then you spoke and greeted him in that roughened sweet voice and Hoseok was gone.

Realization immediately had him freezing, tensing up as you let yourself fall across his blanket covered feet to groan about how sleepy you still are after putting down his medicine and breakfast on the bedside table. He hadn’t been able to reply, busy with tampering down the racing heartbeat echoing in his ears. 

Looking back a year later, him falling in love with you wasn’t as odd as he thinks it is, uncommon but still cliche. 

Jiwoo taking the space next to him made him jump, breaking off his line of thought.

“Seriously, just get it over with. The faster you see the result, the faster you can decide whether to move on or not.”

It was the most logical step to take but it felt…wrong somehow. 

He couldn’t imagine a day where he’d look at you and never feel the tickles of butterflies filling his stomach or the warmth your fingers would leave behind after carding through his hair or tilting his chin up to have a better look on his makeup. It felt like an offense to the fates.

Although loving you has its downsides, with your obliviousness to their feelings whether intentional or unintentional often makes him want to pull his hair out, he’d never regret feeling the joy of admiring someone when he’s with you. Hoseok has never felt more motivated to produce music with lyrics far too romantic to come from someone who has never had a lover since pre-debut. Not that you’d see that of course.

He couldn’t remember how many times he found himself wanting to grab you by the shoulders to shake you whenever you teased him about his creations, and hoped it would be enough to let you know that all those cheesy lyrics he had uncharacteristically puked out was all because of you.

“Don’t you go souring your face like that, you know that I’m right.”

“And just because you sound right, doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to you.”

Jiwoo rolled her eyes and turned to her kitchen, probably to take a pan and hit him upside the head with it or to save herself from seeing the pathetic image of her brother being a fool for love. 

He knew not to hope, he repeated those words to himself but at the same time, he could sense the small, miniscule bead of it hidden within his heart, pushed down to the bottom of the barrel and awaiting its eventual death once he set his eyes on the negative results on his test.

In all of the times he got scared, Jung Hoseok has never been so terrified at the thought of being left out of your nexus. It would be the highest form of torture, a cruelest fate the heavens have dealt. 

How would he function seeing all his brothers do all the things he had imagined himself doing? Due to how sensitive the bond is, he wouldn’t be able to get a feel of your touch for a year, maybe two if the gods deemed it funnier.

What is he going to do then? Die from envy?

He wouldn’t be able to survive, it would ruin him completely. That parasitic feeling would eat him up from the inside and eventually spill out of him, it would damage the relationship he and his brothers had established through hardships and time. Something he too treasured as he does you.

A chime rang out and his eyes immediately fell to his phone on the coffee table. From the familiar set of emojis on the name of the messenger, he reached over to answer to his Yoongi hyung.

           [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i know what you’re doing            [18:23] Me: i don’t know what i’m even doing right now hyung            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: you may fool the others but im not like them            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: jiwoo had already asked me last week about this problem ur supposed to be fixing so dont even try to lie to me            [18:23] Me: im just worried            [18:23] Me: you know about my family history right? We never had a single tethered so idk what even possessed me to take that test with jin hyung when we already know the answer            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i think you’ll be surprised            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: not that i’m spoiling or anything, im just saying that if jesus could turn water into rum, then you can be the first tethered in your family            [18:23] Me: well im not a son of god am i?            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: don’t get sassy with me            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: im just saying, miracles can happen            [18:23] Me: i think i already lucked out with our jobs hyung            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i doubt that            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home tomorrow            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: the maknaes are planning a party for you            [18:23] Me: LOLOLOL WHAT            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: they even bought two different cakes            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: wont spoil what they say             [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home if you want know            [18:23] Me: i will 

Despite telling his hyung that he’ll return, he wasn’t sure if he’s going through that decision just yet.

“Did you at least bring a change of clothes with you?” Jiwoo chimes, reappearing from the kitchen archway.

“What if I don’t have any?”

“Then you’re sleeping in those.”

Despite her words, she eventually pulls out a pair of pajamas from her boyfriend’s temporary side of the closet for him to borrow. Sleeping that night was far from being an easy task when he could read and see from the images the maknaes are spamming the group chat, photos ranging from decent captures of moments to a blurry mess where the one holding the phone is running away from a figure that distinctly look like Jimin.

He tried to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head and the way his stomach seems to shrunk and eat itself up with every picture and video he sees. He truly does try to ignore the voice judging him for daring to squeeze himself in an already perfect dynamic.

Eventually though, the voices quieten and he falls asleep.

______

Jimin is falling in love with his soulmate. 

It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone but he's actually falling in love with his soulmate. Tingling butterflies in his stomach, skipping heartbeat, tickling warmth in the chest, the whole mile.

What started off as playful admiration where he’d tease you and lightly tug or pull your hair up while you were putting setting powder on his under eye, quickly developed into a giggly high school romance kind of love where he’d avoid your eyes just so his stomach would stop feeling weird and feel the heat of your touch linger from where you last held him.

Now that he’s thinking about it, the whole thing sounds silly because of course he’s going to fall in love with his soulmate.

The morning started as most mornings have begun for him since Jungkook’s birthday, with your face, bare and naked of any products, and the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of his clothes. More often than not, he’d find himself coming to consciousness feeling your body weight pressing on his arms or your breath ghosting against his throat and he'd just freeze. 

 Every time it happens, electric shocks would run down his skin and he’d be taking a quick trip to the bathroom to calm his racing heart.

It was insane how often he had to lean over the ceramic sink so early in the morning, breathing heavily to try and ground himself before he reenters the room and sneaks back into his bed, but strictly keeping himself on his side of the pillow fort while careful to take your hand in his once again without waking you up. 

But today, he found himself wishing for time to stop just so he could stare at your face at this very moment.

With the light sheen of the light filtered through the curtains bouncing on one side of your skin giving you an ethereal appearance, he found himself at a loss for words at the beauty presented before him. His eyes traced the lines of the long lashes kissing the apple of your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and down to the plush of your lips. 

Jimin has lost count on how many times he has wondered about how it’d felt pressing against his.

In the peaceful silence of the early mornings, all he did was stare and wait for time to pass while wishing internally for the world to slow just so he could soak in the peace the morning brought.

Eventually though, he had to steer his attention elsewhere. Jimin rolls to the other end to reach for his phone on the bedside table.

He’s been scrolling on his phone for a couple of minutes, lurking in the fandom space—both international and local—when the door creaks open and Taehyung steps in with sleep-lidden eyes and body heavy with lethargy. Forgoing to close the door of their room, he trudged towards the bed like an overworked employee before promptly falling face first to the spot between you and him. He churned in the small space, making himself comfortable by throwing an arm around your blanket-covered form.

For a long while, the only sound in the room came from the occasional videos he plays.

It was weird. Having a soulmate who has multiple soulmates is weird.

He should be feeling disturbed seeing someone cuddle up to his soulmate but he wasn’t. Jimin, contrary to popular belief, is possessive, probably more than Jungkook was in his younger age. Although it wasn’t to the point of killing like people like to showcase in films these days, possessiveness for him is as tame as snaking arms around waists and narrowed eyes. 

Maybe there’s a bit of pulling them aside for a quick reminder in the middle of an event but the point is, he’s possessive. 

But he couldn’t find a single cell in his body who was bothered by the presence of someone else in the room. 

This soulmate thing is weird.

When he laughed at a post, Taehyung dragged himself up to shoulder level just to see what he was laughing at before giggling himself. Suddenly, you push yourself up and turn to them with squinted eyes.

“Good morning, noona.”

“Tae? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Seokjin hyung sent me up here to wake you both up—”

“It’s still too early!” she groaned, stretching her arms above her head. “I’m not built for working this early!” 

“— he said if you don’t go down before seven, he’ll eat the can of smelly fish you bought for him in Sweden as a joke.”

You paused, the threat successfully shutting you up before you let out an exaggerated groan and dramatically burying yourself back into the pillow.

“Can’t a girl rest? I have a bad headache, and I don’t even know if the beating is Namjoon’s or mine.”

It’s easy to forget how there’s six different soulmarks affecting her all at the same time. From how she’d hear their leader’s heartbeat no matter how far, to the altered taste due to his Seokjin hyung’s mark, and to his Healing Touch. He couldn’t even fathom how much of a nightmare it is sensing everyone.

They eventually dragged themselves down to the dining room after a quick bathroom break. Jin had immediately greeted them with heaps upon heaps of pancakes with maple syrup drooling over the side and scrambled eggs on the table. 

Yoongi and Namjoon were already nursing their cups of coffee on the table—with Joon hyung taking his rightful spot on one end of the table as the leader, Seokjin hyung taking the seat on the opposite side, and Yoongi next to their leader—Seokjin was occupied with his food when they arrived, one scrolling on his phone while the other crazily scribbled on his journal.

“You didn’t even try to at least cook me waffles, hyung. I’m hurt!” He exclaimed and the man rolled his eyes.

“In another life, if you were my soulmate, maybe I would’ve considered it.” Jin then flashed a smile at you before skipping back to the kitchen.

Jimin couldn’t help but notice how you shifted uncomfortably on your seat at the noticeably more generous portion on your plate and he switched his plate with yours, immediately shoving one into his mouth before his hyung returned. An action noticed by everyone in the room.

“Jimin,” Yoongi called out, voice gentle as a whisper. “Give me one.” 

He followed, standing up to bring his plate closer to his hyung and passing it over, adding the eggs into the equation when Yoongi motioned him to add it. Seokjin returns when Jungkook has trudged out of his room and taking the empty space next to Taehyung.

Jungkook immediately noticed the generous amounts on his plate and immediately reached out for two pancakes with his fingers and plopping it down on his plate before taking three more from the middle dish and practically drowning his towers in maple syrup. As if it wasn’t enough, he reached for the softened butter.

When Jin returned, it was with another dishful of bacon and slices of apple. If he noticed the change of plates, he said nothing. 

For a long while, they all occupied themselves with their food. A companionable silence 

“What’s the agenda for today?” Jungkook was the first to break the silence.

“Yoongi hyung is coming with us to buy furniture for noona.” Jimin replied.

Taehyung then stops slicing his pancake and jutted out his lips towards Yoongi’s direction.

“Can I come with you?”

“I need your voice for the new song I’ve been working on.” Namjoon replied, looking up from his journal with a stern stare directed at the pouting boy. “You’ve been gone for so long, I have a couple for you to work on.”

“I can do that tomorrow, hyung. Let me go just for today? Hm?” 

“I can go right? Since you need Tae’s voice instead of mine.” Jungkook sleepily chimed in, eyes still half closed and a hand raised halfway.

“You’ll do the carrying?” Yoongi challenges.

“I’ll even do the talking.”

Jungkook held his gaze with a small, playful grin, waking his face up which Yoongi matched after a couple seconds passed.

“Alright, you’re going with us, kid.”

“I have a touch-based soulmark, I need to come too!” Taehyung argued..

“It's not as drastic as Jimin’s. Even then, you’ve recharged enough.” Seokjin responds, pointing his fork at him.

But before Tae could reply, a shrill notification sound pierced through the air and Y/N pulled her phone out of the pockets of her sleep shorts. Eomma <3

Shit.

Seeing how fast the entertained lilt in her expression drops into dread, the table falls into a hush. As if sensing the approaching tsunami of words from her mother, Yoongi takes his mug and walks out of the room with Seokjin following close behind. 

_____

“What did I hear about you getting a soulmate? You ungrateful child, I carried you for nine months and raised you with my blood, sweat, and tears yet this is how you treat me?!”

That was how your mother had begun the moment you had accepted her call. Her voice, despite being carried through such a small device, had blasted out, her uncontainable rage far too grand to be limited by the phone’s initial features. How a small woman could hold such an explosive anger and powerful voice is a wonder no one in the world has the answer for.

Hearing her voice through the speakers had Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon fleeing the scene, but not without karma immediately hitting their leader who had accidentally checked his shoulder on the wall on his way out.

Jungkook followed quickly, dunking his milk in one go and taking his plate with him as he jogged to follow his hyungs, Taehyung behind him.

Jimin had tried to leave but was stopped by both your entangled hands.

“So damn ungrateful you are! Didn't even tell me what was happening, a fucking lawyer knocked on my door and there I find out that my child is tethered. What was my daughter doing to forget to tell HER mother she had soulmates? Why did I have to hear it from someone I don't know?!”

“Did you really think you could leave me alone here?” I whisper-shout at him.

“Noona, let me go. I know we can go for five minutes now.”

“You’re really gonna risk our health for that?”

“At least don’t turn the camera at me, let me hide under the table.”

“Is that my new son-in-law Jimin?” Your mother had chimed, her tone taking a sudden turn. I turned the camera to him despite the insistent shake of head and wide eyes. “When you said you were also trying to find a husband for my daughter, I didn’t think you’d mean you and your brothers!”

“I know right?! Who knew I’d be one of the husbands I’ve been talking about, right auntie?”

“Already talking about marriage, huh? Y/N!” You turn the camera to you and find her smiling so wide you feel your cheeks ache for her. “Your soulmates got good heads on them, already thinking about marriage this early on!”

You shake your head. 

While marriage had once been an issue you lost sleep on, you knew it was impossible to attain as idols. They still got stadiums to perform in, songs to compose and perform for the ARMY. Bangtan would continue on for years as long as they sing and dance or as long as their passion remains alive and roaring. They had worked hard to get where they are now, with the taste of glory and power that comes with their rise in fame, retirement is a far away dream when they’re just getting started. 

Not to mention, your brain still struggles to accept your new reality despite the very apparent a red string connecting you and Yoongi over the table, and hearing Namjoon's heartbeat at the back of your mind. Hoseok hasn’t even checked his test result yet but your mother is already looking decades ahead.

“Ma please, you know that’s after they retire which is thirty years from now.”

“Jimin,” she calls out, lip jutted out in a pout and he leans over to get into the frame. “Are you guys going to make this old woman wait to see her daughter be a bride? I’m not gonna last long you know? My bones hurt every morning and my appetite is beginning to weaken.”

Jimin laughed nervously, eyes wide as he turned to you for help but you're not going to jump in when his face has calmed the raging beast. 

“Don't think for one second that I'm done with you, you ungrateful brat! You haven't even told me why you broke it off with Guwon when he was about to propose!”

“D-does it really matter now?” You winced when Jimin narrowed his eyes at you. Suddenly remembering what was drowned out by the sudden revelation of your soulmate links.

“It doesn't, global popstars sound much better than a lawyer anyway but would it hurt you to tell me what happened exactly? Don't you think your mother deserved an explanation at least after I toiled away trying to find you a husband?!”

“Don't you worry about it anymore, auntie,” Jimin says, voice like a gentle caress trying to tame her fierce anger. “Noona now has seven to care for her now, we'll get to that bridge when it comes but for now, how about we treat you girls to a nice spa out in Jeju?”

“Oh? I wouldn't want to impose on your bonding period, but I'd like to take that offer later. How so nice of you, Jiminie.”

“It’s not the best of gifts but I assure you that there’s plenty to come. Expect a couple of fruit baskets from Yoongi hyung and other stuff too from the others.

“You seven better take care of my daughter, it would be a shame if you all mucked it all up and I have to resent you all.” Your mother sighed, feigning sadness. “Anyways, expect a visit from Soo-in soon dear daughter. She will deliver my heartfelt joy in my stead, your father still needs my help around the house, damn pride of his, he shouldn’t have mindlessly tried to fix the roof himself.”

A shiver wracks down your spine at the thought of your mother’s gift after ghosting her and Soo-in for almost a week now. 

The last time your sister had visited, it was after Jungkook had ‘ran-into-the-sunset’ with you on his shoulder and him covered from head to toe in black. The vile wrench had switched your sugar and salt, hid the lids of your tupperwares, hid lego in your shoes before eventually ending her wickedness by hiding the wires of your charger and the wifi router’s adapter.

If your mother only threatened to hang you upside down, Soo-in made sure everything in life became irritatingly inconvenient.

“She won’t be pinching my ears?”

“She’s classier than that, I raised her first so expect more. I love you, dear daughter! Visit us soon with your seven soulmates!”

__________

[Today, 12:42]            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: so let me get one thing straight and two things gay            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: ur linked with bangtan?            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: THE ENTIRE ROSTER?????            [12:43] The Mother😌: congratulations Y/N, I’m so glad you finally found your soulmates😊            [12:43] The Mother😌: always knew you’d be tethered            [12:43] The PRETTIEST🌸: so who’s the biggest?👀            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: girl I don’t even think you got the libido for two            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: how tf are you gonna handle seven?!?!?!            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she was in the hospital u fiend @The Prettiest            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she needs to be worrying about a different type of d to receive            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: SHUT IT MINHYUK            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: hoseok isn’t confirmed yet so its just six for now            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: bet you wish he’s your soulmate too            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: cuz the way that man thrusts his hips in baepsae?            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: 🥵            [12:44] The Mother😌: have some faith in her, she’ll manage            [12:44] The Mother😌: gift giving for your birthday just got a whole lot easier though😊            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: wdym by that @The Mother😟            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: NO BUT SRSLY            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW TF ARE YOU GONNA MANAGE SEVEN            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: ONE DICK PER DAY??? SEVEN DAYS A WEEK??/             [12:45] The BADDEST💅: lowkey wish that for me BUT            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW??????             [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: MINHYUK PLEASE            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: JIMIN IS LITERALLY NEXT TO ME            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: NABI CONTROL YOURSELF            [12:46] The PRETTIEST🌸: don’t scold me when ik ur thinking about it too            [12:46] The Mother😌: when’s the soulbinding?            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: Jihae please, its only been a few days            [12:46] The Mother😌: back in my days, people bound themselves and completed the bond on the first day…            [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: minhyuk i think you're forgetting the best part out of this            [12:47] The BADDEST💅: wut?            [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: imagine Alexa’s reaction when she finds out our dearest Y/N is Seokjin’s real soulmate            [12:47] The BADDEST💅: OH            [12:48] The BADDEST💅: she better HOPE she’s not in bighit anymore the moment the NDA expires            [12:48] The BADDEST💅: im going to be the most annoying fucker she’ll ever meet [Today, 13:02]            [13:02] The BADDEST💅: no but srsly how?            [13:02] The PRETTIEST🌸: R I P that pussy ayee

________

There’s nothing more infuriating than picking furniture with your soulmates, you decided.

Yoongi wanting everything to be practical and of the greatest quality matched with Jungkook’s penchant for only liking soft things, it was hell to be stuck in a furniture warehouse with the both of them. Jimin had never looked so godly when he insisted on letting you pick the brownish-red persian rug to be placed under the wide round canopy bed you had eventually settled with after a long debate with the rapper and the youngest.

What started as Jimin towing you around the shop to place you in front of every furniture before a mischievous grin spread across his lips, and the strength of the bed frames immediately turned sour when you both found your other two companions calmly arguing about the color of the curtains—they both eventually settled with thick white, and beige curtains, to Jungkook’s dismay.

He wanted black-out curtains for when he eventually ends up sleeping in your bed, he claimed.

The current dilemma, however, had you going silent as the prickles of irritation began to itch your skin.

Yoongi wanted to commission a carpenter he knew for a custom desk made for you and is insisting on you to skip shopping for tables and shelves, and take the cheapest one for now but Jungkook thinks it’ll take too long and wanted the boho vanity table set with a huge round mirror with stained glass around the edges. The rapper wanted the place you’d be doing work on, to be built with the practical features while keeping it organized but Jungkook, although he saw his hyung’s vision, refused.

“Imagine waking up with a canopy, great quality bed, amazing decor, then you have to stand up and work on a rackety blue plastic table because you have to wait months for that desk. How does that sound, hyung?”

Jimin not picking sides only added to the pounding headache you’re having.

While you understand both sides of the argument, either of those options didn't make you feel less guilty about having them skip work to spend all this money for your room, even if you knew how barely of a scratch their collective funds will take.

If Taehyung hadn't had the foresight to hide your wallet while you were in the shower with Jimin, the guilt would've been lighter.

You envy Jin who has been prickling your tastebuds with honey glazed fried chicken back in bighit, the lingering taste on your tongue making your stomach uncomfortably churn in hunger.

The disguises could only last for so long before people start noticing how familiar your soulmates’ eyes are, seeing as they’re plastered everywhere in the major cities. For the public to see your hands entangled in the pocket of Jimin’s coat would fuel the press for a year; hell, a century even with how the media moves these days.

As Jungkook’s voice picks up, you reach for the red string and Yoongi halts, looking down at the connecting line before gently grabbing it too.

‘Head hurts’

‘No more’

The rapper lets out an exhale and Jungkook stops.

‘Sorry’

‘Forgive?’

“Ok, so how about we take the set and I commission my guy then we’ll change it out once it's done?”

“Deal.”

Next to you, Jimin sighed in relief. “Thank god that’s settled, I thought I was going crazy listening to them debate on what’s better.”

“I don’t think either of them has ever fought for something they wanted that much.”

You turn to Jimin and a teasing smirk grows on his face.

“They love you like that, noona. Wanted nothing but the best of the best for you.” 

In a different context, you would've easily brushed off his comment but having the warmth of his touch thrum from your hand to your toes, the healing touch always at work, your cheeks flushed dark and you lightly slapped his arm.

Ever dramatic, he clutched his bicep and winced.

“Why are you hurting me like this?”

“Please, we have regeneration as our soulmark. You're barely hurt.”

“I'm gonna bruise and the fans are gonna see it then I'm telling them how much you like hurting me!”

________

When Hoseok arrived it was with a chorus of loud bangs!. The man had leapt at least a foot or two from the shock as confetti rained on him. 

Once he recovered though, he rained curses on the mischievous maknaes—and surprisingly, Yoongi and Namjoon too but they were spared due to one having his hyung privilege and Namjoon having retreated to the kitchen before his hyung had recovered from the shock.

Jin had clapped him in the back when he entered the dining room, fitting the huge and frilly birthday hat on his head and taking a picture of his dumbfounded reaction before the man could even realise what was happening.

Seeing them celebrate such a small thing, an odd feeling settles in your heart. You try not to be a killjoy but you couldn't ignore the mass settling on your gut.

Everything continued on as normal, everyone acted like they had before Jungkook's confession. They find out their links to you and suddenly, the past is behind them. As if you hadn't—although unintentionally—led them on and hadn't rejected three of them. A soul link appears and every fault was forgiven.

It wasn't only you who seemed to be feeling this way though.

Namjoon too it seems, seeing how he had kept his distance. Not in a bad way but rather a respectable, perfectly platonic way. You guessed it'll take long before the information would sink in for the non-believer, he was the one who had treated you more professionally than the others. You'd feel his concerned eyes ever so often but other than that, he'd treat you like a fragile glass.

Never to be touched and never to be perceived too long, fearing the weight of his gaze is enough to make you crumble.

(Or was it just you turning something that was normal before into fuel for your restless mind with the soulmarks now in the picture?)

You knew Namjoon is just having a hard time settling down with the fact that he's in a nexus connection with you but the ugly voice at the back of your head whispered a different tale. All of them are negative and judged far too harshly than you normally do yourself.

Jungkook bets his hyung will break after the third week, Tae says a month, and Jimin slyly says next week. You think it'll take Namjoon at least half a year before he properly processes him being tethered to someone, a non-believer.

The thumb that began to caress your knuckles snapped you out of your thoughts and you immediately found Jimin’s concerned eyes.

“You okay?”

You nod but he knew you better. Luckily, he lets it go.

“Open it, open it!” Jungkook chants, bringing everyone to gather around them.

Hoseok nervously laughed, placing down his car keys, phone, and wallet on the table before flipping the envelope’s flap. 

Unconsciously, you leaned forward as he carefully tears the paper, the sound seeming to echo loudly in the silence of everyone’s nervous anticipation. As his brothers had gone from standing at a respectful distance to noisily looking over the main dancer’s shoulder, Jimin had tugged you closer to join them, standing in front and peering over as Hoseok flips open the first fold.

Then out of nowhere, Yoongi had a burst of energy and screamed.

Everyone jumped at his sudden burst of energy making Hoseok’s hand shoot up to his heart and the three maknaes snapped their head to their hyung. The man in question laughed noiselessly, satisfied with the reaction he garnered.

“Hyung, why did you do that?! I just got out of the hospital and you want to send me back again!”

“You’re practically invincible, what are you talking about?” Yoongi shot back.

“Just open it, all I’m seeing is your information hyung and that’s boring!” Taehyung cuts in. “I already know what your blood type is, your last name—”

“You go open it then—”

His words died on his tongue when Taehyung snatched the paper up from the envelope and pulled it open. But before he could start reading the result, Hoseok took it back.

Waiting as he read through his results felt like watching the presidential race on the tv, heartbeat rising every time the opposing candidate gained more than the man you elected. You worried your bottom lip with your teeth. His eyebrows furrowed, his frown deepening as his eyes wandered lower and you began to panic.

Why are you even nervous? 

Aren't you being too greedy for wanting to have Hobi too?

Hoseok then crumbled into the floor, curling up to himself as he clutched the paper to his chest. Instantly, everyone panics as his heart shattering sobs echoed in the living room.

Suddenly, the colorful decorations hanging on the wall and the balloons scattered on the floor made

“Hoba? What’s wrong?”

“Hyung come on, don’t make me nervous like this!”

“What did it say?”

Jimin falls next to him, your hand momentarily forgotten to comfort his hyung and Jungkook follows, hugging the sobbing man while Seokjin reaches for the crumpled paper peeking out of Hoseok’s curled up form, a grim expression on his face.

“I am writing to inform you of the results of your recent soulmark evaluation and tethered status assessment. After a thorough examination and review of your diagnostic tests, it has been confirmed that you are,” Seokjin takes a deep breath then releases it shakily, a wide smile spreading across his lips. “Indeed tethered.”

You let go of the breath you had unconsciously held in as everyone in the room began to celebrate. Jimin pulled Hoseok to stand, laughing as the man continued to weep before reaching up to fix the birthday cap Seokjin had slipped onto his head. Jungkook, unable to stop himself from ridiculing his hyungs whenever he could, pulled out his phone to record them.

“How do you feel knowing you’re the first ever tethered in your family?”

Taehyung follows by placing his phone under Hoseok’s chin like a mic.

“You must be so happy being the first Jung to have a soulmate since the dawn of time, sir. Please tell us what you’re feeling right now.”

“Get that fucking… camera off my face or I’ll break it.”

Hearing this, Namjoon turns to the maknaes. “Stop teasing him, Seokjin hyung isn’t even done reading it.”

Despite this, Jungkook didn’t stop recording but Taehyung had skipped over to look over Seokjin’s shoulder.

“I think you’ll want to read this one yourself, Hoba.” The oldest says, handing the paper over to the sniffling man.

With his result back in his hand, Hoseok straightened himself, clearing his throat as Jimin gently wipes his tears off of his cheeks.

“This means you have a soulmate, a unique and profound connection that is both rare and significant. Furthermore, based on the characteristics of your soulmark and the energy patterns observed, there is a high probability that your soulmark is of the altering type.”

“They have the technology to figure out the soulmark type too?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“Unfortunately, the global fated registry haven’t figured out a way to pinpoint what soulmark our patients have. It is with our deepest—”

“Didn’t know that, had mine cancelled when I figured it out before the results came.” Seokjin replied. Beside him, Taehyung pulls up his phone to rapidly type out whatever he had in his mind.

“I wonder what kind of altering mark it is. There’s a lot of documented ones but what if it’s also a new soulmark? A revived one from the 19th century like Jimin’s?”

“That’s unlikely.” Yoongi refutes.

“You don’t know that.”

With the initial elation ebbing away, everyone continued the celebration seated around the dining table where Jimin had parted from you to take out the congratulating cake from the fridge to light up and serve in front of their hyung who had almost toppled over with how hard he laughed seeing it.

Yoongi had insisted they also take out the apologizing cake so it wouldn’t go to waste. Upon hearing this, the group broke out in laughters, unbelieving until Jungkook brings out the ube flavored cake with the sentence “sorry your family nerfed your potential to be a lover boy.” placed on top in red icing.

The excitement never faded away through the night, dinner was lively, as if they had swept the four daesangs on both award shows. But instead of being influenced by the joy you feel down the red line from Yoongi and the practically vibrating maknaes sitting across you who keep cutting through conversations with suggestions on what soulmark their hyung might have, you find yourself standing behind a tall wall.

When everyone cheered and raised their mugs to toast, you only felt yourself mentally retreat further as a mass settled deep in the pit of your gut.

Seeing the men around you with wrists decorated in thick bands of gold that cost more than your yearly wage, faces flawless from careful maintenance, and names carrying the weight of their country’s pride, did you really deserve them? 

You, who was a nobody staff they just happen to gravitate to due to the closeness of age, matched with the members of the world’s biggest boyband. They weren’t just out of your league. You’re the human on earth wishing to reach the stars from another, far away galaxy, yet by fate’s generosity, you were given the chance to see the beauty of them from up close.

How does one come from dating sleazy men with oily hair and faces akin to an infant’s drawing to being tethered to superstars everyone in the world would sacrifice a life for a chance to talk to them?

When everyone had begun to retire for the night, Jimin had silently guided you back to his room. The sensation of him pressing a kiss on your forehead cuts off your thoughts, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug grounding you further.

“Are you with me now, noona?”

“Of course, I always am.” You answered with a scoff, pulling away and he frowned.

“I could sense your feelings the entire dinner, don’t try to lie to me.”

Even in the shades of his room bare of any bright lighting, you feel Jimin stare past your physical body and peer into your soul. In the harsh darkness with only you and him standing in it, you felt exposed, stripped to the barest bone under his gaze.

Never have you ever hated having a soulmate than you do now with someone perceiving your feelings openly, sensing the slightest shift in your mood with a brush of skin. It's annoying, scary yet at the same time relieving that there’s someone who could hear the tune of the noise in your brain. 

Not many people have the same luck you have, seven soulmates with one of them granting you what technically is immortality, who else wins at life like that?

But do you really deserve it? Deserve them?

“Stop that. You deserve this, deserve all of us. If someone thinks otherwise, tell me their name and I’ll go beat them up.”

You laugh. “You can’t do that, that’ll stain your image.”

“I don’t think you understand just how important you are to me, noona.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “Before you think about it, I’ll beat someone up for you with or without the soulmarks.”

The image of someone with the face of an angel and a sweet demeanor like Jimin jumping someone in the parking lot to fight for your honor shouldn’t have made you cackle the way you did. The warm rumbles from your linked hands spread across your body and the thoughts were immediately silenced.

“I know you wouldn’t like it but I’ll be telling the other guys about this. I don’t like how you think you’re undeserving of all this when you do, in fact, deserve this bond after sticking with us through thick and thin. You saw all of our flaws and helped us in our bad days, you may think you haven’t done much to warrant this kind of luck but you do.” 

Jimin pressed his lips on your forehead and your heart skipped a beat.

“Namjoon hyung might have a problem expressing it, Yoongi hyung might not show it openly like Jungkook and Taehyung does, but they share the same sentiment. It’ll take them time to be more expressive so I hope you find it in yourself to be patient. We’re still in the adjusting phase so if anything bothers you, don’t hesitate to tell us.”

Tears were streaming down your face at this point, eyes burning as they poured out like a waterfall. The softness in his voice has eased its way into your heart and dispelled the gloominess surrounding it, replacing it with a crashing wave of relief followed by the warmth provided by the soulmark.

You didn’t realise how much your thoughts had been wearing you down until tonight. Comforted by his words and the tightness of his hug, the dam finally breaks and you falter in his hold.

“Shh, cry it all out, noona.”

“I-I shouldn’t be crying over something so stupid like this.”

He shakes his head. “It's not stupid. Don’t say that.”

There’s a tug on your pinkie and you feel the string grow heavier. Immediately, Yoongi’s concern bleeds into you.

‘Why crying?’

‘What happened?’

“Let’s go lay down, noona. I’m feeling the ache in my muscles bending down like this.” He says lightheartedly, giggling. “Don’t worry about answering the others, I’ll handle it later.”

Guiding you to the bed, Jimin tugs you to fall into his arms and you let yourself be pulled into his chest.

Between the sound of Jimin and Namjoon’s heartbeats, and his fingers tracing slow circles on your back while the other hand massaged your scalp, it was easy to be lulled into sleep. In the echoing sound of your sniffles and hiccups, his sweet humming permeates through the air. His song was familiar yet your sleep addled mind took a second to realise what it was.

Serendipity, your mind eventually supplied.

For a moment, in the solace his arms offered, the world became quiet and you fell asleep, forgetting to worry about what chaos yesterday will bring.

_________

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer @x-uno @diamonddia-mond @eggsysstuff @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @sld88 @katsukis1wife

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #47 | 4.26.25 ๋࣭⭑

no bc we r actually so back brothers ive got FOOD TODAY

We are ALIVEEEEE AND BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER ((FR THIS TIME!!!).

Before we get into actual updates, I wanted to give context on where my life's been at basically the past year. As many of you know, I got my PhD last December (YEAAAA) which meant for the second half of 2024, I was literally in a cave crunching my dissertation. Now, many people (including me) thought after I finished my dissertation, I'd be a lot freer for Alaris stuff. But since this year started, I've been completely preoccupied with some personal matters which kept me from working on Alaris as much as I wanted to.

While the personal matters aren't anything anyone has to be worried about, they did take up A Lot of my time, and I'm really happy to say that I am officially free from those obligations too!!! Meaning for the first time in literally a year, I am NOT drowning. And that time has already been used Very Fruitfully heh....heh....heh.....

WANNA SEE???

Writing has been on a bit of a stall, and the main reason why is something I'll talk about in the Miscellaneous section! But it's nothing to worry about since it's because I want to focus on other parts of the game right now. With almost all of the routes finished, I've noticed that the writing pace I've maintained has resulted in the art and programming aspects to fall a bit behind where I want those parts of game dev to be.

So recently, I've focused more attention on the art and programming components rather than writing. That being said, writing still makes slow but steady progress! Kuna'a's development edits continue to progress, and Etza's route is about to be sent to line editing, which is the last stage of editing for my writing process. This means once Etza's line edits are finished, the four Central routes will be COMPLETELY FINISHED!! Exciting right!!!!

For art, I can't actually show very many sneak peeks since it's mostly been CGs and character design commissions heh. But I am willing to give a slight sneak peeks of these character designs in these two beta screenshots

Sickest character designs by @saffein-e

While these sneak peeks don't represent the final character sprites, they are the OG designs created by bestie Saf. And even from the designs alone, the characters are stunning additions to the cast! I can't wait to draw them in my own style and hopefully do Saf's amazing work justice 💖💖💖 In these screenshots too, you can see some of the newer BGs and hints of overlays that we've added to the game to heighten the visual effects hehe.

I've also been working on CGs for Etza's route and am happy to say our CG count is currently at 26 completed CGs (5 sketched ones) out of 54! Now that I'm making an active effort to Lock in on the art assets, I'm hoping CG and sprite development picks up a bit in the coming months ^^

And finally... for the most exciting news!!!!!

ETZA'S BETA WILL BE OUT MONDAY!!!!

We have finally moved forward on the beta build front, and beta testers will finally get to play Etza's beta! Since I haven't shown much in-game screenshots from the betas in past devlogs, and you all patiently still read them, I thought this month would be a nice time to update you all on how things are looking in Alaris beta land.

In this beta, you obviously get to woo our neighborhood angel

Since it's been a while, this is a reminder of what the game looks like (LMFLSOA). I know for me it's been a while and honestly I forgot how proud I am of the art assets :') I love how everything has come together and how it looks in the game <3

Of course, Important Choices and fun cast dynamics are a few of our Favorite Things

Between the messaging interface, the chapter card, the phone call overlays, and many more little effects and stuff, I forgot how many assets are in this thing. Being able to code Etza's beta has been an amazing reminder of how much work I've put into Alaris over the years ^^

Which brings me to exciting news!!!! I will make the official announcement separately at a later time, but as a reward for people who actually read these things, you're the first to know. With Etza's beta coming out soon, that means the four Central routes will have finished beta testing. And with where things are at, I've made the official decision that...

Alaris will enter Early Access for the First Four Routes!!!

I don't have an exact date for when this will release since it largely depends on how quickly I can art. But I'd like to aim for a tentative Q3 release for the Early Access Build! More details will come when I make the official announcement, but it is extremely exciting to have reached a point where I can even put this out there to people!!!

I hope you all are excited, and I want to thank everyone who has been on this journey with me whether it's as a recent or long time fan!!

Finally, I haven't really had time for market research since I've been in the "Returning the Game Dev" trenches. But I do have other exciting news that I'll make yet another official announcement on later.

Aside from the new Alaris beta, I've also had another small side project I've been working on with some friends (very chill-like) over the past couple of months. It'll be the first Crescence Dark Fantasy entry in my collection of games, and it's definitely a different vibe from what I've put out so far.

Where They Wait will be a new game submitted to Ossan Jam with elements of horror, fantasy, and dark romance :3c I'm so grateful to the team I've worked with and all the work they've put into our little shared baby, and I can't wait for you all to play it! This will also be coming out WELL, Monday too LMAFLIDJLIFJ.

As you can see, we've been hard at work behind the curtain. Since I last talked to you all, we've made a lot of nice headway on the different projects I've had on my plate, and I'm excited to feel like we're hitting our stride on so many things!!!!

Until next time we talk, which will be Very Soon with all our exciting announcements coming up. Thank you as always for being patient with me and supporting me!

[hivemuthur]

What was that? - Ch. 1.

viktorxfemale!OFC mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14. | Ch.15.

word count: 4,6K

tag: #what was that

summary: A romance that explores two insecure people growing closer together through snippets of their time at work.

author’s note: Can I post three things a day? Yes. This is the first fic I've written and I love it dearly. It connected me with @rennethen who has been beta reading it patiently and helped me create significant parts of it, and for that connection alone it was worth to write it.

Cross-posted on AO3

—

“Renly, are you being serious right now?” John stormed into the lab’s kitchen visibly flushed with anger. Renly only blinked at him, a question in her eyes.

“I guess? Didn’t you get my note?” She definitely remembered sending the note asking John to take a raincheck. She even made a song about it to not forget, like the last time. Viktor had mocked the song at first but later grew annoyed with it.

”Please stop, this song is now rotting my brain. I get it, John is a nice guy,” Viktor rotated on his chair with a groan that has clearly been building up for at least one minute.

“Sorry, it’s the only way I don’t get distracted and forget!” to Viktor’s demise, Renly sang this line as well.

“Well, didn’t you get my note?” John said, already huffing, seemingly offended. He did get her note, he did see the little heart she drew on it and a coffee stain that suggested she wrote it hastily, while doing something else with her other hand. So, he sent a passive aggressive jokey note back stating that it’s tomorrow or he doesn’t know when, because he is also oh-so-busy.

“I can’t make it otherwise,” he laid his hands apart in apologetic gesture.

“Like… this week? Or ever?” light mockery in her voice, she said with her back to John, while pouring coffee into two cups. “It’s okay, we can have breakfast here. Do you want coffee?” Renly pulled out the third cup from the sink and waved it at John expectantly.

At which point, Viktor entered their tiny lab kitchen, scrunching his wet hair with a damp towel, his cheeks flushed and clothes slightly dishevelled, clinging to his hot-after-shower body. “Do I smell coffee? Hi John,” he said, waving at the doorway.

“Nothing will hide from you. Crisis averted?” Renly asked referring to fifteen minutes ago, when Viktor banged viciously on the bathroom door, demanding shower access immediately, as he spilled suspicious fluid from Renly’s workstation all over himself.

She said it was punishment for snooping. He said she’d taken his favourite pen, and her workstation was planned ridiculously, making moving around risky. Also, she took showers that lasted forever. She said her shower was only fifteen minutes, which is perfectly within bounds of morning toilet routine. He said she should shower at home and sleep at home; otherwise, she would end up a social pariah like him and Jayce. She said it’s a bit late for that as night is a perfect time for quiet work and she is one person away from the social pariah status. She meant John. So right now, it really did look like she was close to adding it to her work signature. She had to evacuate from the bathroom before she had the chance to dry off completely, which is why her hair was wet.

“Did you shower together?” John’s tone gained additional pitch to it as he asked his ridiculous question, visibly getting more and more distressed.

“Yes, John. We also have occasional orgies that I forgot to mention,” Renly couldn’t help about the snarky comment but when she turned around to take a look at her… boyfriend? They went out about ten times and slept together twice, so she guessed he was her boyfriend already. Well, he looked hurt, and she immediately wished she didn’t say it, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

“Please, don’t be like that. I pulled an all-nighter again, and it was too late to go home. We showered separately, obviously,” she said in a softer voice as the cups were placed on the tiny table in the middle of the kitchen, only three chairs.

“I will give the two of you some space,” Viktor swept his cup with Jayce’s face on it and gave both of them polite smile as he walked out faster, than Renly thought he was able to.

“So… are you very cross with me?” she waited for Viktor to leave the area and asked reaching out to place her palm on top of John’s forearm, but he winced away.

John had always been good at making himself seem indispensable. When they first started seeing each other, his charm felt effortless—little gestures like remembering her favourite tea or distracting her with a ridiculous joke when she was too stressed to focus. She had let her guard down with him in a way she rarely allowed herself to. It had felt safe, comforting even. But lately, the cracks in that façade were harder to ignore. He got offended easily and threw some stupid accusations at her when he was out of arguments. She did admit, she was quite oblivious to some of relationship savoir-vivre, but it was also discussed priorly! And he said he doesn’t mind, so the next part caught her off-guard.

“I… don’t think this will work out this way,” he said with a sigh and waved his hand around making her question if he meant them, or breakfast with Victor in near vicinity. “I didn’t know this is what I was signing up for frankly,” he finished and gave her a sad puppy glance. This made her… angry? Of course, he knew what he was signing up for. She told him from the very beginning how important her work was. And how bad she was at this, but he just called her cute. Surely, this was enough of a warning. Or maybe it wasn’t but John really didn’t seem like he heard anything of what she ever said in the long run.

He was a Piltie, and she was from Zaun. He liked posh places that were trying to pass as casual, she liked to hang out by the riverbank in the evenings and sneak into The Undercity to look at street art and eat street food. He always seemed to pay attention to what she was telling him about her lab work and how many lives it could potentially change but at the end of every test presentation and heated one-sided conversation (it was hot on her side only) when she looked at him expectantly, he praised her with a you are so smart or you look pretty when you get excited about science and it left her empty of all air like a sad balloon in the aftermath of a party. He probably had a politician’s career ahead of him, so in the future, he would be the person to decide whether she does or doesn’t get funding for her research and in her mind’s eye John was a person that would probably happily fund something else than the medicine for long term Grey exposure symptoms. But he was a good practice for that. And despite everything else, she did like him. He had his moments, as they say.

In a few seconds, that took very long in the pocket dimension of her brain, Renly tried to calculate how much fault in this situation was hers and if it was worth to back down and give him a peace offering in form of a dinner at her place, that she would cook, and they would be alone, and it would be romantic, and he would probably get to fuck her on the dinner table.

The plan started forming itself, when John said “I mean… you spend all your free time here, or you drag me around the lanes. Also, this Viktor guy? I got over Jayce, recently he is barely here. So…” he dragged his huge eyes across her face looking for a sign of understanding that wasn’t there “…you understand how I feel when you spend most of your time with another man.” It came out weak, but he decided to stand by it.

“Another man? It’s Viktor,” she scoffed. “Not even a day ago he stated how much I disgust him with Zaunian food in fridge. He works all the time. We sleep in separate rooms. He…” Renly inhaled, exasperated by this accusation. It’s ridiculous, how insecure John was to even suggest that.

“He is a friend. And that’s all. I assure you he is not interested in me.” She had a dead serious certainty about this. If something was fixed in this universe, it was the fact that Viktor wasn’t interested in her. And she didn’t think of him that way either. Except the one time she let her mind wander, and she did. Which was a lie, because she thought that at least twice.

Once, when they met for the first time. She already knew Jayce, who made her gasp the first time she saw him. The impression passed, but friendship remained. Jayce and Viktor, freshly acquainted, were passing her classroom when a quake shook The Uppercity. It caused one of her test tubes to fall into the vial she was working on, breaking and triggering a teeny-tiny exoenergic reaction (it exploded). The hero within Jayce’s body drove him straight in to help any casualties, of which the only one was Renly, face full of colourful goo. From the floor, she glanced at Viktor walking in shortly after his partner, and she gasped, even more than when she had met Jayce. She immediately knew it was wrong to look for so long. Her suspicion was confirmed when Viktor’s expression shifted from amusement to the realization that his brief chance to present himself as more than the guy with a cane had passed. From that point forward, he was very formal with her, though he occasionally joked about history repeating itself within the academy walls.

It was a lie though, as well. She first saw Viktor by the riverbank in Zaun, as a child. She had been maybe seven, and he could have been slightly older. Her eyes, round and curious, followed him trying to chase down his mechanical ship taken by the stream. She tried to shadow him that day, but he disappeared in the mouth of a cave she was afraid to walk into. He had a smaller cane then and she thought him a magician. So, she only lingered in disbelief that their paths crossed once more and that he was, indeed, real. And also, in awe of how beautifully he has grown up. But overall, Renly counted it as a one time.

Second time, after she decided to stay at university to continue her research and teach students, they were copying the notes together and Jayce was growing more and more bored, so he kept trying to start random topics.

"I wonder if all of them are as pretty as Mel,” he said, trying to trace down beautiful Mel Medarda’s heritage while fishing for reassurance from his friends about their imminent romance.

“But maybe it’s not a rule. I mean, looking at the both of you I would say the rule for Zaun is to be full of attractive people as well,” Jayce was waffling on, and Renly grew tired of it.

“And ugly people. And short people. And tall people. And fat people, and skinny people, Jayce. It’s all just people, like in Piltover, there is no rule to here or Zaun. Initially, it’s the same city, and we all come from different places,” she said harshly not lifting her sight from the notes she was copying.

“Oh relax, it was a compliment! And I am looking for reassurance from you guys, yes,” he traced his finger down the blackboard, wiping some of the old equations away.

“Not very progressive of you, the Man of Progress. I can give you reassurance – Mel seems fine. You will be fine. You are a big boy, Jayce. But I do not need compliments, not because I’m from The Undercity, nor because I’m a woman,” Renly’s dead stare made Jayce look for help from Viktor. She gave him a pass and went back to scribbling.

“Vik, any help?”

“I’m afraid with this one I have to place myself in Renly’s corner. Even though of the two of us, I probably am the one that needs compliments,” Viktor also didn’t glance up from above his paperwork.

“No, you don’t,” Renly didn’t notice she now got the attention of both of her friends.

“You are, yourself, quite…” her mind was absent at this moment, so it was probably the other part of her that spoke the rest “…dreamy.” A second past, in which her brain caught up with her mouth and a deep shade of red bled into her cheeks and chest. She cleared her throat, stood up quickly and threw barely audible excuse me leaving the boys to exchange their looks and make their fun of her. Jayce snorted when Renly was out of hearing range and Viktor only mouthed a what was that? That was the second time, infinitely more mortifying than the first one.

“You put a lot of effort into assuring me of this, but you never once said if you are not interested in him. From where I’m standing, you are definitely not interested in me,” John’s voice broke her out of reminiscing.

Renly’s face went into stupid mode, twisting her features with disbelief. How dare he.

“Are you really saying what I’m hearing? Are you accusing me of infidelity based on your own insecurity? Have I truly given you any reason to believe I’m involved with anyone else but you? When do you think I would have time for that? Or do you actually not listen to me when I tell you about what I’m doing here and how much of my time and energy it consumes?” John’s expression grew more and more panicked as he saw how far he has overstepped.

“This is not… I didn’t…”

“What you didn’t do is think. You are the one who is not interested in me, John. You listen to me, but you do not register, nor remember anything I tell you. What do you want from me? Should I drop everything I’m doing just to dangle from your shoulder at the parties? Should I change the way I speak? Should I cut all my friends and relatives loose because they are from The Undercity? Would that make you feel secure enough?” she spat at him, becoming more and more angry with every sentence, self-winding regret fuelling her.

“Gods, this is not what I want, and you know it,” John brought his hand to the back of his neck, his voice gentler this time. “I just don’t feel like you want me around, is all,” he whispered, his words making Renly’s shoulders drop and her chest sink.

His fingers tapped an idle rhythm on the table, his eyes darting toward the adjoining lab room. It wasn’t the first time she’d caught him stealing glances at her colleagues’ workspaces, but she had always dismissed it as idle curiosity or stupid jealousy, first over Jayce, then over Viktor. Now, though, every stolen glance felt like a clue she should have picked up on sooner.

“I do,” she hesitated. “I did. I invited you to meet my people, come to my home, my work, my bed,” at which point, in the other room, Viktor—who was doing his absolute worst not to listen—squeezed a piece of chalk a little too hard, causing half of it to disintegrate into dust with a loud, whiny, bone-chilling sound that gave him goosebumps at the back of his neck. So, they slept together, great. Just great. It didn’t bother him at all, and yet… it bothered him greatly for some reason. Probably just because she will be a nightmare to be around for the next week or so.

Ridiculous, Viktor thought, though the word didn’t carry the weight he wanted it to. What did it matter who she invited into her bed? It certainly wasn’t his concern. The tightening in his chest wasn’t jealousy—it couldn’t be. No, it was irritation, that’s all. Irritation because she was so impulsive, so reckless, letting herself be distracted by someone so undeserving of her attention.

Why did it bother him? It wasn’t the first time she’d been entangled in some personal drama, and usually, he had the patience to tune it out. Yet here he was, bristling at every raised word, every pointed jab from John. It wasn’t his place to care. He had told himself years ago that people like Renly—bright, chaotic, and distractingly beautiful—were nothing but a complication. And yet, he found himself gripping his cane tighter every time John’s voice rose.

“Just realistically, I don’t think this is what you want. So, the obvious choice would be to put a pin in it until we both decide what we want,” her voice faltered. Breaking things off with John hadn’t been part of her plans for the day, and she could never have been emotionally prepared for this—especially not before breakfast. She wasn’t really breaking things off with him, either. Maybe a short, temporary break would do them good, cool things off. She fidgeted with her fingers under the table, becoming increasingly self-conscious about how much of the conversation Viktor had overheard.

“Really? So now it’s about me not respecting your Zaunian heritage, instead of you blowing me off at every opportunity?” at this point John knew that guilting her into giving it one more shot was probably his only chance. His father really wanted those hextech blueprints, and he would be very disappointed if John didn’t manage to get them. “Look, I don’t mind if we hang out here at all. But truth be told, you don’t really invite me here very often,” John said, his voice softer now, but there was an edge beneath it, like a scalpel disguised as a pen.

He had a way of twisting her words, making her feel like the selfish one for not prioritizing him more. It was a skill he wielded well, and for a moment, it almost worked. But the memory of all those little disappointments—the times he had brushed off her work as "just another experiment" or barely listened when she explained her progress—bubbled up like a pressure valve ready to burst. He did actually like her. She was his type – pretty, quirky, talented and driven. She could be a bit more elegant, but that would be polished with time. “We could make a schedule, meet here when nobody is around? Maybe you could even show me some hextech, hm?” with this, he knew he probably pushed a little bit too far, as her expression grew weary.

There it was again, that same calculated curiosity masked as casual conversation. At first, she had chalked it up to natural interest—what Piltover scholar wouldn’t want to know more about hextech? But now, with his eyes lingering too long on the blueprints and his questions steering the conversation in predictable directions, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was about more than idle fascination.

“I… you know I don’t work with hextech,” she shook her head while her brain was glueing the pieces together. “Why would you…,” and it hit her gently, prompted by the guilt painting her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend’s face. Unbelievable. When she thought about it longer, he did usually snoop around innocently while waiting for her to wrap up work. He would wander between the lab rooms, seemingly just killing time, but she saw him linger on the blueprints more than once. When she told him about her experiments, he always drove the discussion towards Viktor and Jayce’s work. How are they doing? So does this hextech actually work? And what do they want to use it for again? And he tried to pin it on her sleeping with Viktor. The audacity.

Renly wanted to believe the relationship had been real, that it hadn’t just been about her work or her connections. But as she stared at him now—his charming smile just a little too polished, his words just a little too well-placed—she realized how many times she had ignored her instincts. How often she had pushed aside the nagging thought that he didn’t see her, not really. Just the parts of her that were useful.

“So… you come here and make a scene about the note that you seemingly wrote for me and that I didn’t get. You accuse me of cheating on you with my colleague,” at which point Viktor scoffed to himself in the other room. The idea of Renly and him being a thing was laughable. She was too stubborn, too unpredictable, too... distracting. And yet, John’s misplaced jealousy had struck an uncomfortable chord. Absurd, Viktor reassured himself. If anything, she deserves better than someone like me. She deserves better than both of us.  

“You propose a solution – let’s hang out here,” Renly exhaled, and her eyes rested on her hands with the realization of being used all this time hitting her hard. She didn’t think she cared that much. Frankly, having a normal secure relationship also with someone normal and secure was a hope she didn’t dare to entertain very often. It was mostly work and friends for her. So, when John came along, she just let it happen, as maybe, she thought, it was a good thing happening to her. Realizing there was no love in it, left her feeling numb.

In the other room, Viktor stopped pretending to work and simply sat on a stool, his hands and chin resting on his cane. That was new territory, a kind of danger they hadn’t anticipated. Also, he did feel angry for Renly – annoying as she was, she really didn’t deserve this. He wondered if he should intervene and kick John out, but the act would have to be based on his authority, which as a fellow Zaunian in John’s eyes he had none. Any show of force would need to be purely verbal—calculated and precise enough to leave the boy speechless and make him back down without a fight. While he was negotiating the terms of this heroic act with himself, he heard Renly’s voice echoing across the corridors: “I think it’s best you go.”

“Can we talk this through?” one last desperate attempt on John’s side as he covered Renly’s palm with his. She slid her hand from underneath his, threw a quick no over her shoulder and stepped through a heavy metal door that separated living area form the laboratory. She locked it behind her with a loud crank and immediately sank to hug her knees. Well, shit. This wasn’t part of her plan for today. And she didn’t want to cry in front of Viktor. If Jayce was here, he’d make it better, but he was with the beautiful Mel Medarda having breakfast in her quarters, which was a secret. Viktor would make fun of her—or worse, he’d get cross for endangering their life’s work. On one side of the door, her mean ex-boyfriend, on the other her mean niggling friend. She could just stay here.

“Do you need help getting up?” Viktor’s voice made her gasp and release the tears that were gathering under her eyelids, now streaming down her cheeks. And just to be clear, they were angry tears, not sad pathetic tears.

“Maybe,” Renly said, wiping her face with a sleeve, unable to bring herself to look him in the eye. She accepted his offered hand, which was about to pull her up. Unfortunately, the sudden movement sent a cramp shooting down Viktor’s calf, leaving Renly standing while he folded in half.

“Oh shit, Viktor I’m sorry, let me grab a stool!”

“Ah, no need. It’s fine. Just a cramp, it’ll stretch,” he panted, sliding down the corridor wall. She crouched down by him, question in her eyes about what to do.

“Well, where is it? I can… rub it out?” she heard herself saying and a darker shade of pink flushed her already enflamed cheeks. Viktor noticed. Her hands were faster than her brain this time and she already had his calf in her grasp, looking for the knot.

The warmth of her hands startled him, a flicker of something unwanted creeping into his thoughts. He shut it down immediately. She’s just helping. Don’t make it into something it isn’t. But the gentleness of her touch lingered longer than it should have, and when she looked up at him, her face flushed with concentration, he had to look away. Focus, Viktor. This means nothing.

“How did you get this so bad, Viktor?” she gasped at the state of her friend’s muscle, contracted like a rusty hinge. Her eyes full of concern, and some guilt. She made him uncomfortable in his own lab, because of some stupid drama. Stupid, yet it tore a hole in her heart.

Viktor remembered this look. He remembered the way she had looked at him back when they first met—not the awestruck gaze she reserved for Jayce, but something deeper, sharper. It had unnerved him. People always noticed the cane first; it was a fact he had come to accept. But she had looked past it—no, she had lingered on it, and he wasn’t sure whether it was curiosity, pity, or something else entirely. It didn’t matter now. He had decided long ago to keep her at a polite distance.

“Too much sitting down, ah!” he gasped when more pressure was applied “I tried to work through your… quarrel,” Viktor’s voice grew breathier, his eyebrows pinching together. Absent-mindedly, he placed his right hand on Renly’s shoulder and closed his eyes, letting his body relax into her touch. She was very careful, almost… affectionate.

“I guess this would fuel John’s theory,” he chuckled slightly, forgetting himself. Did he just admit that something was possible? Renly was too focused on getting rid of the knot to notice the awkward grunt following this sentence, and without much thought to it she said, “don’t be ridiculous.”

Something sunk in Victor’s chest hearing that. Of course, it was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. All of it. He was about to figure out how to run away, take his leg with him and tell her this is good enough, when she continued.

“I mean, we are not responsible for someone’s insecurities. I refuse to be. Also, as I presume you heard all of it, you will know that it was all a play,” she put so much attention into rubbing Viktor’s calf that the words just went out of her mouth. “Just to get his hands on hextech. So, I’m guessing this accusation was also fabricated to guilt me. Or he was obsessed with you. Which I understand… gotcha!” she exclaimed as the muscle relaxed under her fingers, and Viktor gave an involuntary moan, making both of them flush slightly.

The tension in his calf eased, but his chest felt impossibly tight. He was about to thank her—briefly, formally—when the look on her face stopped him. She was glowing, not with the self-satisfaction he often associated with Jayce, but with genuine care. It was infuriating. No, not infuriating—irrelevant. Why do you even notice these things? he scolded himself, rising awkwardly to his feet and turning away before the warmth in her eyes could undo him further.

“Forgive me, I… thank you,” was all he was able to say.

“That’s… it’s nothing, no worries.”

“I believe you know this, but in case you don’t—he’s a donkey, and you’re brilliant, yes?” Viktor tossed over his shoulder. “Ah, I’m not… thank you,” she said, standing in the corridor, confused, her face burning. What was that?

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate: Chapter 9

Warnings: None

Nesting is a very important part of a werewolf's journey. It allows the werewolf to feel safe and secure wherever they are. It is more important for the werewolf when they join a pack. It provides them with a safe space. A space where you can be you. Every werewolf goes through nesting phases regardless of their status, but some are more different than others. Alphas are taught to nest from a very young age as they are the ones who are the main providers for the pack. When an alpha becomes old enough to have an omega they are taught to become protective of their nests as their nests would become a mating place and later on a place to have pups. Beta's were taught in a similar way to alphas that they too would have their nest as a mating place. The main difference is betas can share nests with omegas or go into each others nest. Betas and omegas often stick together as they are the lowest rank. The two of them often depend on each other hence their acceptance of sharing nests. Like an alpha, a beta can too feel protective of their nest if an unwanted visitor disrupts their nest. 

Now for omegas, it is even more important for them to nest, considering how important they are. An omega's nest can depend on whether it is their own or a mated nest in their pack. An individual nest is often where the omega will live, relax or hide when in danger (if they do not have a pack). When an omega is presented to a pack they are supposed to design their own nest as part of the offering and allow their pack members to donate gifts to their nest. Once the omega is mated they can nest anywhere in their pack mates house as a sign of claiming the omega claiming their mates. If an omega is not presented with a nest they can often grow up to be quite attached and hostile due to lack of stability. This can also be seen when an omega nest has been disrupted. When a nest is disrupted without their consent omegas can get rather emotional and agitated, making them more harder to tame. A nest is probably more important for an omega to have than an alpha, which is why Y/N was never fully content or settled.

This was something that broke Chan's heart when he heard no one had ever taught his soulmate how to make a nest. Not even her mother provided her with the comfort and materials of nest building. It was the best part of anyone's childhood. You would grow up and show off your nests and have competitions on who had the better nest. Chan even remembered a time he competed with his brother and got his mother to vote. What turned Chan's stomach was the fact that Hongjoong carried that lie with him and prevented her from ever nesting in his home. Chan didn't understand it but what Chan did understand was his omega was never shown love and tenderness. This was why Chan made a point to get everyone involved in giving her a perfect nesting experience and by getting everyone involved he meant asking Hyunjin for his least favourite set of clothes. It took a few weeks but Chan wanted her to have a nest where she could feel safe and alone when she needed to.

On the first week, Chan helped Y/N settle in and taught her how to use her senses without blindfolding her. Chan taught her how to look for furniture that felt out of place, his reasoning behind this was to help her learn to decorate her own nest without too many scents. He also wanted her to feel completely comfortable in her own space before she went any further. The reason it took so long in the first place was that she changed it four times, one of which was Minho's fault because she caught him pulling a slight face and it made her insecure. The other time was Felix's fault because he asked if another coloured blanket would have been better on the chair, which led to Jisung pulling Felix's nest a part. In the second week, Y/N wanted some of their things in her room. Jisung was the first to proudly donate his pillow and bracelet. Chan the same day offered his shirts and scent on some of her clothes so she didn't have to worry. Changbin the following day offered his plushies and his sweaty gym towel but promised he would find something better. Felix and Seungmin came the day after with snacks and offered to roll around in her nest because Seugnmin barely had anything in his room to donate and Felix spent the whole night in a panicked state what to get. Felix later that evening went shopping to get her some fairy lights and unscented candles which made the omega feel better. A very nervous Jeongin came the day after with a bundle of hoodies and sweatshirts to donate which had been rutted on by him because he didn't know how to offer things to an omega. None of them had thought to tell him he didn't need to rut on them. Much to everyone's surprise Y/N donated one of her new jumpers to Jeongin nest which made the new alpha so excitable and proud, that he slept in it the same night. Minho came the day after with his hoodies and socks that he had washed and then re-scented because he wasn't disgusting like Changbin who gives people unwashed clothes. Minho had politely dropped them off outside when Hyunjin had offered his t-shirt and by offering he almost threw it at her, which annoyed Minho. It was an insult to her and to Chan and Minho wasn't going to tolerate it.

Minho had quickly apologised to Y/N with a bow before heading to the infuriating alpha's room and kicked his door down, breaking it straight off the hinges. The elder had shouted profusely at the younger alpha about his rudeness to the point the beta had thrown a load of blankets into the alpha's arms as he tried to force him to rut on them. By forcing him, Minho had pushed him to the ground and threatened to tell Chan that he made the omega cry if he didn't rut on them and politely present them to Y/N. To Y/N's surprise, Hyunjin did return with a grumble and handed her the blankets gently to her stating he didn't have any blankets so he had to find them. What Y/N didn't know was that Minho had bullied the alpha into donating something to her. That was something that kept Y/N awake at night as she held Hyunjin's blankets in her hand, feeling the soft texture of the material. She was almost too afraid to sniff it. He frightened her but at the same time, she was fascinated by him. She wondered if it was because he reminded her of Ateez, but he wasn't even close to their power or was he. Y/N tried to shake the thoughts from her mind as she sniffed Hyunjin's wet musky vanilla and ylang-ylang which sent her body into a massive frenzy. His scent was ethereal. It drove her insane as her mind darkened and went to another worldly place. What Y/N didn't realise was that Hyunjin was sat in his room listening to all of her thoughts and feelings.

[physalian]

“How do I know if my story needs work or if I’m just being hard on myself?”

As I sit here accepting the fact that at 70k words into Eternal Night’s sequel while waiting for my editor for Eternal Night itself, that I have made an error in my plot.

Disclaimer: This is not universal and the writing experience is incredibly diverse. Figuring this out also takes some time and building up your self-confidence as an author so you can learn to separate “this is awful (when it’s not)” and “this is ok (but it can be better)” and “this isn’t working (but it is salvageable).”

—

When I wrote my first novel (unpublished, sadly), years ago, I would receive feedback all over the chapters and physically have to open other windows to block off parts of the screen on my laptop to slow-drip the feedback because I couldn’t handle constructive criticism all at once. I had my betas color-code their commentary so I could see before I read any of it that it wasn’t all negative. It took me thrice as long as it does today to get through a beta’s feedback because I got so nervous and anxious about what they would say.

The main thing I learned was this: They’re usually right, when it’s not just being mean (and even then, it’s rarely flat out mean), and that whatever criticisms they have of my characters and plot choices is not criticism of myself.

It did take time.

But now I can get feedback from betas and even when I hear “I’d DNF this shit right now unless you delete this,” I take a step back, examine if this one little detail is really that important, and fix it. No emotional turmoil and panic attack needed. I can also hear “I didn’t like it” without heartbreak. Can’t please everyone.

The only time I freak out is when I'm told "this won't need massive edits" followed up by, in the manuscript, "I'd DNF this shit right now". Which happened. And did not, in fact, require a massive rewrite to fix.

So.

What might be some issues with your story and why it “isn’t working”.

1. Your protagonist is not active enough in the story

You’ve picked your protagonist, but it’s every other character that has more to do, more to say, more choices to make, and they’re just along for the ride, yet you are now anchored to this character’s story because they’re the protagonist. You can either swap focus characters, or rework your story to give them more agency. Figure out why this character, above any other, is your hero.

2. Your pacing is too slow

Even if you have a “lazy river” style story where the vibes and marinating in the world is more important than a breakneck plot, slow pacing isn’t just “how fast the story moves” it’s “how clearly is the story told,” meaning if you divert the story to a side quest, or spend too long on something that sure is fluffy or romantic or funny, but it adds nothing to the characters because it’s redundant, doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t give us more about the world that actually matters to the themes, then you may have lost focus of the story and should consider deleting it, or editing important elements into the scenes so they can pull double-duty and serve a more active purpose.

3. You’ve lost the main argument of your narrative

Sometimes even the best of outlines and the clearest plans derail. Characters don’t cooperate and while we see where it goes, we end up getting hung up on how this one really cool scene or argument or one-liner just has to be in the story, without realizing that doing so sacrifices what you set out to accomplish. Personally I think sticking to your outline with biblical determination doesn’t allow for new ideas during the writing process, but if you find yourself down the line of “how did we get here, this isn’t what I wanted” you can always save the scenes in another document to reuse later, in this WIP or another in the future.

4. You’re spending too long on one element

Even if the thing started out really cool, whether it’s a rich fantasy pit stop for your characters or a conversation two characters must have, sometimes scenes and ideas extend long past their prime. You might have characters stuck in one location for 2 or 3 chapters longer than necessary trying to make it perfect or stuff in all these details or make it overcomplicated, when the rest of the story sits impatiently on the sidelines for them to move on. Figure out the most important reasons for this element to exist, take a step back, and whittle away until the fat is cut.

5. You’ve given a side character too much screentime

New characters are fun and exciting! But they can take over the story when they’re not meant to, robbing agency from your core characters to leave them sitting with nothing to do while the new guy handles everything. You might end up having to drag your core characters along behind them, tossing them lines of dialogue and side tasks to do because you ran out of plot to delegate with one character hogging it all (which is the issue I ran into with the above mentioned WIP). Not talking about a new villain or a new love interest, I mean a supporting character who is supposed to support the main characters.

—

As for figuring out the difference between “this is awful and I’m a bad writer” and “this element isn’t working” try pretending the book was written by somebody else and you’re giving them constructive criticism.

If you can come up with a reason for why it’s not working that doesn’t insult the writer, it’s probably the latter. As in, “This element isn’t working… because it’s gone on too long and the conversation has become cyclical and tiring.” Not “this element isn’t working because it’s bad.”

Why is it bad?

“This conversation is awkward because…. There’s not enough movement between characters and the dialogue is really stiff.”

“This fight scene is bad because….I don’t have enough dynamic action, enough juicy verbs, or full use of the stage I’ve set.”

“This romantic scene is bad because…. It’s taking place at the wrong time in the story. I want to keep it, but this character isn’t ready for it yet, and the vibe is all wrong now because they’re out-of-character.”

“This argument is bad because…. It didn’t have proper build-up and the sudden shouting match is not reflective of their characters. They’re too angry, and it got out of hand quickly. Or I’m not conveying the root of their aggression.”

—

There aren’t very many bad ideas, just bad execution. “Only rational people can think they’re crazy. Crazy people think they’re sane,” applies to writing, too.

I just read a fanfic recently where, for every fight scene, I could tell action was not the writer’s strong suit. They leaned really heavily on a crutch of specific injuries for their characters, the same unusual spot getting hit over and over again, and fights that dragged on for too long being unintentionally stagnant. The rest of the fic was great, though, and while the fights weren’t the best, I understood that the author was trying, and I kept reading for the good stuff. One day they will be better.

In my experience beta reading, it’s the cocky authors who send me an unedited manuscript and tell me to be kind (because they can’t take criticism), that they know it’s perfect they just want an outside opinion (they don’t want the truth, they want what will make them feel good), that they know it’s going to make them a lot of money and everyone will love it (they haven’t dedicated proper time and effort into researching marketing, target audiences, or current trends)—these are the truly bad authors. Not just bad at writing, but bad at taking feedback, are bullies when you point out flaws in their story, and cheap, too.

The best story I have received to date was where the author didn’t preempt with a self-deprecating deluge of “it’s probably terrible you know but here it is anyway” or “this is perfect and I’m super confident you’re going to love it”.

It was something like, “This is my first book and I know it has flaws and I’m nervous but I had a lot of fun doing it”.

And yeah, it needed work, but the bones of something great were there. So give yourself some credit, yeah?

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

Artist Highlight: Jo-Harrington

This week, we're highlighting @jo-harrington! All recs this week will be for her work. @jo-harrington writes for the Stranger Things Fandom, with a special focus on xOC, and xReader fics. She's also a great beta-editor and design all the graphics for her fics! We're highlighting Jo for her incredible world building and strong OCs.

You should check out her Store Manager Verse fics for some great fluff and top-tier retail angst Jo answered some questions about her creative process and her work under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I’ve been an avid ST Fan since the beginning. My old Store Manager and I watched the first episode in the backroom of our store while folding t-shirts and rest was history. Fic-wise, a certain Metalhead Dungeon Master brought me out of a fanfiction posting hiatus and I haven’t looked back since.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to create for?

Platonic is always going to be the Hellfire Club boys. I love writing their adventures. Their friendship is epic and deserves to be explored and celebrated. Romantic…EddiexOC or EddiexReader. I mean, I’ve been an xOC girl since my first fandom. xReader is new for me but it’s almost an extension of xOC. I always joke that I’m allowed ONE epic borbo obsession love of my life per decade and I’ll give them one canon pairing but the rest are OCs.

What's your typical writing process like?

I have an idea, I write it down, I get sick of working on a chapter, I don’t edit, I post. (Which is funny because when I beta, I am a lot more detailed. But for my own work I just need it out of my head.) It might not be the best. It could probably read better or have less typos or mistakes. But it’s always from the heart.

How do you come up with your OCs?

I sit there for a long time and figure out how I can put a part of myself into a story. Oops was I not supposed to say that? Sometimes you think of a character that you just can’t help but want to write. But even if they aren’t a manifestation of your physical self or your personality, they almost always end up being an extension of you in some ways, or something you aspire to be. You also need to add some attributes you hate into them, so that they’re not too perfect and you can throttle them around and make them suffer and not feel too bad/let it become a self hatred thing.

What has been your favorite project so far? Why?

Store Manager Verse. (EMxReader) Retail is who I am and who I’ve always been. I had a mall romance irl that went south. So it was a way to rewrite my past with my comfort character…and also give said comfort character a happy ending as well.

What has been your hardest project so far? Why?

As Above, So Below. (EMxOC) It is a passion project, it is a beast, every chapter takes an emotional toll on me and it takes a month—if not more—to recover. But it has been the single most fulfilling project that I’ve worked on in the 20 years I’ve been writing fanfiction. I've been working on it for about 2 years now. 3 more chapters til the end…I’m gonna be very sad when it’s over.

Have you ever had a creative block? How did you get over it?

My brain is just a beehive that I shake every now and again to get the bees angry. Honestly, the bigger block I get into is self-doubt. I have no problem finding the words, it’s the courage to put them to paper I struggle with at times.

Is there a big source of inspiration for you? Books? Art? Games?

Yes all of the above. But in all seriousness, life experience is the best inspiration. There’s only so much research you can do. Truly for me, the canon characters are the source of inspiration. Then I take from things I’ve done, things I’ve read, places I’ve been in order to take an idea to a fully formed plot.

Is there an upcoming project you're particularly excited about?

Eddie Munson Big Bang. I know you’re gonna hear that a lot. I love creating really ambitious AUs and I think this one is really testing my abilities as a writer. It's a crossover fic, in a way, but with a lot of original plot folded in. I hope I do both fandoms/universes justice.

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

I’m from the Midwest, so thank you for listening to all of my long-winded answers. Haha.

[pureshadough]

a more articulate set of thoughts & critiques on the latter half of jambound (spoilers up to and including chapter 23)

part of me sometimes wishes jamma Didn't write at fucking light speed if it meant having a larger interval of time to evaluate the pacing and points of focus in this fic, because a lot of the cast & set dressing is starting to feel like an afterthought paired against shmilk's Repeat Emotional Breakdowns. given he's the POV character the narration is of course going to be bias in his favor and the other members of the cast will be secondary to what Hes immediately focused on, but the Constant emphasis on the turmoil he's been experiencing as relevant to pv & the soul bond is starting to leave me feeling. fatigued? i guess? 23 earnestly felt like a rehash of the same beats 11 and 18 hit with less of the, like, unknowable Mystique to shmilk's character, the intrigue - by this point we have him figured out, he has himself figured out, and while im glad we finally got some direct fount (my #goat) acknowledgment as a part of that "actualization" it was largely at the cost of. like. white lily and pure vanilla being present characters...???

i trust jamma Not to render lily down into just being an obstacle to smpv's relationship obviously but at the same time the fact she immediately disappeared was kind of disappointing; for how much energy and time went into building up to their *Inevitable Confrontation* it sure did last all of like Two sentences before shmilk scuttled off to wax poetic again. 23 in particular i feel like would have been the PERFECT chance to finally give us that pv POV thats been eluded to so many times; we Know what makes shmilk tick at this point so having his emotional state be so Fucked that what hes thinking & feeling is impossible for even the Omniscient Reader to keep track of would have been a REALLY refreshing & interesting approach by comparison. conversely i understand that the point of not yet knowing what pv is thinking Still is to cast that veil of uncertainty on whether or not their dynamic is Genuine vs. if it stems exclusively from shmilks own personal desire (even though the answer to this is Incredibly Obviously Not), but i digress. middle ground couldve even been white lily POV instead if jamma was Actually Based /lh

all this is to say im paying far less attention to the musings of the POV character than i think im Expected to be in the wake of this being like the third time we've watched him lose his shit which makes me worry a bit for the way the rest of this is gonna play out. i have my own Personal Sensibilities as a character-focused writer n i feel that the pacing has started to suffer a bit since like, 16-ish, by way of repetition. all of 19 through to 21 felt like several thousand lines worth of smilk just repeatedly asking himself "Wait... Are me and Pure Vanilla.... Dating????" which like. Yes. You have been since 11 buddy

id go as far as to argue that the gala "arc" was a chapter and a half too much padding for what it was. TANGENT TIME: it moreover felt uncharacteristic of shmilk to panic in the way that he did after the scene w/ clotted cream & overhearing ppl gossip about him (not even in the sense that he was Performing as someone uncharacteristic to himself under the veil of lady milk crown, i mean that in the sense that i genuinely do not feel like he would veer so readily into isolation amidst a bout of self-consciousness as he would self-sabotaging & destruction; seeing him cause a proper ruckus at the party and Then running off after witnessing smn like pv's palpable Disappointment would have hit a little harder, for example. him getting upset over people being like "eugh... that BEAST cookie that pvs keeping in his castle" was like. Huh? Did I miss something? He's literally a war criminal why did this bother him so much

idk. this is a Fanfic that is being written For Fun by one (1) author and some beta readers to what i imagine is far larger an audience than jamma was ever expecting, so i would never want to discredit them for their success given that the bar for ao3 content is On The Floor most the time otherwise. It's a Good Fucking Fanfic. all of these thoughts come from a place of admiration - the fact that jambound is a media piece i care enough about to analyze so thoroughly to start with is testament enough to its quality. this is quite literally just me pointing at some rougher edges and going "tch.... i would do it like this instead!" while i meanwhile couldnt hope to square up to even half the amount of work ethic on display here ROFLMAO. i think i just dont like it when people write shadow milk as being """too soft""" which is. a Necessary Constant given jambounds subject matter. we're long past the threshold of him obfuscating his emotional sensitivity under an aloof disinterest or violent tendencies. this is probably why 10 and 11 are still my favorite chapters

[esoteric-joke]

Interview with Brooklyn_Babylon

(#Interview3)

Welcome to the next interview of the Dear Writer Project. This Sunday I’m here with Gina (twopoppies here on Tumblr). Thank you so much for participating and supporting my project. It was a pleasure to interview you.

Gina about her writing process, her inspirations and what she finds most challenging about writing:

What does your writing process look like?

Oh, you're going to call me out right from the get-go, huh? LOL! My writing process is that I am a complete pantser. I hate outlining and I'm not good at it (probably why I hate it). I generally get inspired by something visual and then build a story around that. The difficulty is that often, there's a concept, but there's no real story to tell. Or, I can't quite flesh it out enough to make it worth writing. But when something connects, I go bother India (indiaalphawhiskey on Tumblr) who is my beta/BFF/cheerleader and we'll talk through the story idea.

She's super helpful in terms of pushing me to think it through enough that I can write a very basic outline of what needs to happen to get from A to B. Then, I wing it. LOL!

What does writing mean to you?

From the time I was a kid, I've always been involved in doing something artistic--from fine art, to costume design, to writing, etc. I've just always needed some way to express myself, creatively. It took me a long time to get comfortable writing fiction because there are a few people in my family who are highly respected authors, and I felt I needed something of my own to sink my teeth into. But now that I've started, I realize how much I do love it (even when I hate it), and how much it allows me to dig deep into my own thoughts and emotions and be more self-aware. Beyond that, I think I'm at my most comfortable when I feel I'm helpful/supportive/nurturing. I used to write non-fiction that gave me that outlet. It's interesting that I can see those aspects in my fiction writing, as well.

Do you know before you start writing if an idea is going to become a oneshot or a longer fic?

I can generally tell if there's enough of a story to make it a chaptered fic. Sometimes the chapters just separate naturally.

Like, in An Invincible Summer, the story unfolded so that each chapter was a different month. But I had a basic idea of how I wanted the story to progress over that time period. I think, for the most part, I let the story dictate how it's going to flow.

You don’t write (or publish) as regularly as some other writers in the fandom. Why is that and would you like to write/publish more in the future?

Part of the reason is that I have a really busy life outside of the fandom (and writing). I also don't like to write just to fill up space. And I don't want to publish anything I don't think is the best I'm capable of at that moment.

On top of that, I'm just not one of those people who has a million stories in my head. I'm very visually stimulated and there are long periods of time where I just don't feel inspired. I also second-guess myself a lot and often end up shelving my WIPs. And... even when I'm inspired, I tend to write slowly. I like to take time to make sure I'm really saying what I want to say in the best way I can. I want to grow and challenge myself with each story I publish. I just don't see a point in doing it without that sort of intention.

On which of your stories did you write the longest?

I think An Invincible Summer probably took the longest. But it was also one of the easiest for me to write because the story just wrote itself in some ways. I had a much clearer picture from the start of how things were going to unfold. At the same time, there were moments that just happened as I wrote that ended up shifting the story from what I'd originally planned.

I recently went back and re-wrote that fic, adding another 10K to flesh it out better. I'm so much happier with it (even though I loved it before), but I haven't published the updated version on AO3. Not sure whether I will.

Which of your stories came together the fastest?

The first one (Whoever, However). But it's also only 9K. Harry dropped that Beauty Papers spread and my brain exploded. The story was all there. I think Hike Up Your Skirt was probably the next quickest (again, it's not terribly long), but that one I originally wrote for the Anonymous Unicorns collection so there was a lot of freedom in getting to write anything I wanted without fear of judgment. If I could only harness that, I'd be able to bang them out!

What fic of yours was the hardest to write?

I think Literally Making Love.

It was an unusual premise, in that it's about a robot and a human falling in love, but I really struggled with whether I should make it "more" than a love story. It felt like it deserved to be "more", or that it should have more about how AI changes the world and a conversation about loneliness and the way the world contributes to that. So I kept feeling like I wasn't going down the right path with what I was writing, but India reminded me that there's just as much value in a lighthearted story as there is in "serious" writing. We all know the joy of sinking into a comfort fic, or kicking our feet at something really sweet and happy. So I let Literally Making Love be what it wanted to be and I was ultimately super proud of it. And, in the end, I think I did a good job of dealing with the ethical issues, even though I didn't make that the center of the fic.

What inspires you most while writing?

Visuals to begin with. I tend to get inspired by photos or a piece of art. Sometimes song lyrics. But visuals keep me going so I make moodboards for myself and I find quotes or pictures on Tumblr that feel like they belong to the story. I think all of my fics have a link to an inspiration tag on my blog.

And then talking through things with India.

It's so helpful to have someone who gets what you're shooting for and who has the same sense of what makes for good writing. So I'll brainstorm with her when I'm stuck or give her sections to see if it's reading the way I want it to... It keeps me going.

I don't know how writers do it all by themselves. There are times when I've read something so many times that I can't even tell if it's any good. And I do the same for her... helping her get through her writing challenges or brainstorming her projects also makes me a better writer.

In the notes of Literally Making Love you mentioned a 9 month long writers block. What helped you out of it?

Truly it was just that piece of fan art I linked in the note at the start. I'd never seen that artist's work before and this drawing of Louis building an unfinished Harry ended up on my dash and I said, "Well, I'd read the hell out of that." Sadly, no one else was going to write it for me, so I had to do it myself.

While talking about this, I pointed out that I searched a few tags of this particular trope after I finished reading Literally Making Love and couldn’t find more than a handful of fics, which I was surprised by.

Gina thinks people are put off by the idea even if there are so many ways to handle it that could make for a beautiful story.

What do you find most challenging about writing?

I was about to say finding a title, but then I realized that I only had trouble with that in two of the five I wrote.

Hmm. Honestly, I think the most difficult thing for me to write are arguments/fights.

I tend to be really passive-aggressive when I argue, and that doesn't make for very good reading. So I really have to work at crafting a back-and-forth that feels natural but also packs enough of a punch for the scene to work. In An Invincible Summer, the argument scene was pretty pivotal, and one of my betas at the time made me re-write it three times before she signed off on it.

Is there anything you can tell me about future projects you’re planning?

I'm working on another historical fic at the moment. It's slow burn and longer than anything I've written before. So that's a challenge. It's set in the 1880s between the Belle Epoch debauchery and decadence of Paris, and Victorian London's rigid social structure and moral conservatism. Basically, Harry is a French ballet dancer turned sex worker/courtesan. Louis is a British aristocrat whose father has sent him off to Paris to get "the gay" out of his system before he has to marry. There are some twists and turns, and I'm having a lot of fun trying to keep things sexy and exciting for a modern reader while still being true to the time period.

I still don't have a title, and I'm still working on a brief description to sum it up. But... I'm about 60K in and I'm having fun.

When I told Gina that that sounds like you’d have to but lot of research into it, she said:

So much research! But I actually love that part. I get really into the nitty gritty and look up everything. For example, did you know the ice cream cone wasn't invented until 1896 (although not patented until 1903)? LOL! I had to change a scene I was writing because all of a sudden, I thought, "Did they have ice cream then? How did they keep it cold? How did they eat it?" I honestly hate reading something when little details are wrong. It totally pulls me out of a story.

For the next part of the interview, I asked Gina a few questions about her works in particular.

Gina about her favourite scene she wrote, her experience with writing before writing fanfics and being inspired by her own family’s history:

What work of yours is your personal favourite?

Hm. I think Literally Making Love is my favorite because it's the most unique concept, and I'm really proud of some of the writing in that one.

Hike Up Your Skirt is, I think, my most popular one. But that's not surprising because it's complete filth.

Do you have a favourite scene that you wrote?

There's a scene in Literally Making Love when they're walking the dog through the woods, and they're talking about the concept of being lonely, and Harry realizes he's the only one in the world who can understand anything he's experienced. I just really loved how that scene came together. To me it's very visual, and it's got that kind of poetic, dreamy feeling to it that I love to find in fics (and am forever trying to emulate, but I think that might be the only time I've succeeded so far).

I told Gina that this was a scene that definitely made me think about the concept of being all alone with an experience. Here’s what she said about that:

I like moments in a story that make you stop and think about more than just the story you're reading. I think these days, we can much more easily connect with others who can understand most of our experiences very deeply. Although, I imagine if you were the only highly advanced AI robot in the world, you might have some experiences no one else has had to grapple with.

Is there a work of yours that was planned to go completely different than it came out in the end?

There are definitely moments within the stories that I never planned on, and they changed some aspects of how the story ultimately came together.

For example, in An Invincible Summer, the idea for Harry to hold on to memories by getting a camera popped out of nowhere.

In Literally Making Love, the scene of Louis painting Harry's tattoos over his scars came in a dream and that meant I added the aspect of Harry's body dysmorphia. So, little things for sure.

Whoever, However was your first fic you published. Did you write in any form before that?

I did.

I wrote non-fiction for a bunch of magazines and online outlets. I've also ghostwritten three books.

Beyond that, no. Just lengthy blog posts about two gay boybanders.

What were your inspirations for gathered on wings?

There was a photo of Louis in some sort of haphazardly layered jackets and standing in front of these graffitied walls, and it had this caption, saying that he looked like a PhD candidate at the Sorbonne. That was how the idea started.

I had wanted to write a teacher/student fic without the creepy aspect of grooming and inappropriate conduct, and somehow my comment led to Harry having been his intern and them meeting again years later.

Then, the research on all the modern art and the high-end art world informed the rest of the story.

You didn’t go much into detail how successful Harry’s art got after ‘Comrade’ recommended his art for an exhibition at the Marlborough Gallery. Was that the push Harry’s work needed to get the attention it deserved?

It was.

He'd been relying on sugar daddies to pay his way and to give him the connections to patrons. But Comrade vouching for him opened the doors to him being able to do it independently. It's that feeling of, "If I could just get my foot in the door, I could show them what I can do."

That was his foot in the door.

Gathered on wings was my first attempt at writing a chaptered fic, and there was a huge learning curve. There are parts of it I really like and parts I sometimes want to go back and re-write.

Do you think Louis’ identity in gathered on wings always stayed hidden even after they got engaged (and eventually married)?

I like to imagine that as Harry became more widely known, people became interested in his partner. And Louis would then decide to reveal his identity with a new installation that they collaborated on.

Staying hidden when your partner is famous is probably a hard thing to do.

I think so. Especially if you're in the same field. In a way, it mirrors the idea of the two of them coming out at some point.

You said in the notes for An Invincible Summer that it’s inspired by your grandfather’s life. Was that your only inspiration for the story?

It's what set the scene. Other than that, I knew I wanted to write about writing and seeing yourself in a book or feeling understood by someone you never met but who's somehow written about you and your life. The concept of feeling really "seen" is something that shows up again and again for me.

You didn’t go into any detail about Harry’s relationship with his adoptive parents after he left at the end of An Invincible Summer, even though his mother tried to support him as much as she could when he had to leave. Do you think they held contact after Harry was forced to leave or if he/they even went back as a part of H & L’s adventures?

I think Harry managed to stay in touch with his mother secretly and to eventually reunite with his sisters.

When I rewrote the story, I changed the middle sister to a brother to show another way that Harry was treated differently. So I imagine Big Jim and the little brother digging their heels in and acting like he never existed. But Harry and Louis eventually had a beautiful and extensive found family.

The end of Hike Up your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) is pretty much open. How do you think their relationship progressed and do you think they have a chance of having a normal (as in no power imbalance or manipulation) relationship?

Mmm. I actually started writing a second part from Harry's POV where you see that Harry is also playing a game to get Louis to fall for him. I see their relationship becoming a 24/7 Dom/Sub life. I think they're both way too kinky and maybe a little too depraved to have a "normal" relationship.

Are any of your original characters inspired by people you know in your day-to-day life?

No, actually. LOL! Very simple answer. They're all just figments of my imagination.

A lot of other writers in the fandom have difficulties or are just a little uncomfortable with writing smut. That doesn’t seem to be the case for you. Why’s that?

HAHAHAHA! No, I think it’s actually the easiest part for me to write. I’m not sure why. I don’t have a lot of hang ups around sex, so maybe that helps. And I love the idea of character development through intimate scenes.

How did you come up with the idea for your fic rec masterpost here on Tumblr and how did all of that start?

I think it just started because someone asked if I could recommend some fics in a particular category (If I remember correctly, it might have been dystopian fics). And I had too much time on my hands, so I decided to make a header and write little blurbs about why I liked each one I was suggesting.

Somehow that turned into a deluge of people asking for different things and, for whatever reason, I had the time at that moment. So I made rec after rec.

At some point it was annoying that people kept asking for the same things, so I just made an alphabetical masterpost.

Is there a specific trope or genre you’d like to read more of?

Oh, that's a good question. It's so much easier to tell you what I don't like.

Honestly, to me, it's really more about the writing than about the trope or genre. But I do really like a good enemies-to-lovers fic, and if you can write a new twist on a fake relationship, I'm all in.

Do you somehow track the fics you’ve read? And if you do, can you give me a rough number of how many you’ve read?

So, I only bookmark fics I've really loved. Obviously some I love more than others, but I currently have 655 fics bookmarked.

I've been reading in this fandom for 11 years. Some I won't have read all the way through, but counting those, I'm sure I've literally read thousands.

I've gone through periods where I've just got a lot more free time at one point or another. And when I entered the fandom in 2013 there were literally so many terrific fics I didn't know where to start.

And every time you turned around there was another. It was very addicting.

Are you reading anything right now? If not, what was the last thing you’ve read?

I have a hard time reading when I'm actively writing, so nothing really recent.

The last fic I read that I really liked was Danger I Can't Hide by CelticSky. It's actually a WWII fic but set on the airbase where H is a pilot and Louis is a mechanic. It's just so well written and so well researched. Highly recommend.

For the next part of the interview, Gina answered some personal questions about her experiences in the fandom.

Since when are you in the fandom and what made you become a fan?

Since November 2013.

I took my daughter (who was 6 at the time) to see This Is Us. Did a little research to make sure this boy band was appropriate for her and then fell in love with them. We ended up seeing the movie three times, then bought it and watched it at home. She was a Niall girl.

She was my concert buddy for a while. One Direction at the Rose Bowl in 2014 was her first concert.

The weirdest comment you got?

Oh, I get some doozies on Tumblr.

I think one of my favorites was from years ago when I used to do a lot of NSFW fan art. I got an anonymous message from someone claiming to be Harry's lawyer and they were demanding I delete all of my fan art of Harry. HAHAHAHA! Like an attorney would send an anon. Or even ask for something like that. I still laugh when I think about that one.

Harry or Louis?

It's very hard to choose because they're both amazing. I'm a Harry girl from way back. But I obviously love and support Louis, too.

Harry just really inspires me in so many ways. And his music is more my speed.

Your favourite Harry era and your favourite Louis era?

Oh, that's hard. I think Harry's recent era (Harry's House) might be my favorite because he seemed so happy and so self-assured and confident in who he is as a person. He looked fantastic too. Other eras are special to me because of what was going on with the fandom at the time, or because I liked the way he dressed or whatever, but in terms of just enjoying him, I'd have to say this last tour.

Louis is a little more difficult for me because I've had a really hard time with his image over this last tour and his doubling down on babygate. I'm very happy he says he's really happy and proud of his album/tour, but if I had to pick my favorite I feel like he looked the healthiest and most at ease during MITAM promo. Oh, he looked great during his Walls promo, too.

Your favourite movie with H?

My Policeman. It was a bit uneven, but he really blew me away in some of his scenes. He understood that character inside and out.

Your favourite writer(s) in the fandom?

I actually have so many that I like, although many aren’t in our fandom anymore.

It might be easier to link you to a Favorite Authors rec I made a while ago.

What are your absolute favourite fics in the fandom?

I’m going to make it easy on myself again and link you to a Favourite Fics rec.

Is there a fic that is not necessarily your favourite but still always kind of stuck in your head ?

There are fics that aren’t necessarily the most groundbreaking or complex, but something about them makes me keep coming back to re-read. Don't kill me, but... My Favorite Re-Reads.

I wanted to give you a favorite out of that list, but as I scrolled I was like, oh wait, that one! No, that one! So... sorry, you get them all.

What makes you want to stop reading something?

Hm. So many things, honestly.

Writing where people try too hard to be poetic, continuous spelling and grammar mistakes, miscommunication as the only tension, no tension at all, characterizations that make no sense to me, fics that go on and on and on with no attempt at editing, kid fics, etc. I really have very few squicks, but bad writing is hard for me to ignore (I know "bad" is subjective, so I hope no one takes offense at that... just because I don't like it doesn't mean others don't love it).

Your favourite song at the moment?

Chappell Roan is stuck in my head lately. So, I'll say Casual (although Pink Pony Club is a bop).

Your favourite season?

Fall. Absolutely. SO fucking sick of summer.

The most unusual thing that inspired you?

LOL! I'd have to say the Vintage "Sleaze" novel that inspired Hike Up Your Skirt. It was called "Horizontal Secretary".

Who would you most like to read an interview from?

Well, I'm obviously going to say India because I think she's a great writer. But she's also so well-spoken and interesting.

I'd love to read an interview with CelticSky because I loved Danger I Can't Hide so much and I don't know them since they're on Twitter!

Lastly I asked Gina to give every work of hers a colour. Here’s the outcome of that:

Whoever, However -- yellow

Whoever, However is yellow, because when I think about it, I picture the warm, yellow shade of the wood paneling of the room they filmed in.

gathered on wings -- blue

I’m not sure why gathered on wings is blue in my head. Maybe it’s just because that’s the main color of the mood board I made.

An Invincible Summer -- green

An Invincible Summer is green because the rural Georgia setting became one of the characters of the fic. When I think about it, I see the sprawling farm, the rampant kudzu, blueberry fields, lunch under the oak trees… it just feels green to me.

Literally Making Love -- red

Literally Making Love is red because so much of the story is about what it means to be human and even though Harry’s heart isn’t “real” at some point he says to Louis, “Sometimes I feel like you made my heart too small because it doesn’t hold everything I feel for you. I feel it overflowing everywhere.” Or, maybe it’s because it has “Love” in the title. LOL!

Hike Up Your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) -- purple

I don’t know. The first thought that came to me was purple because I pictured Harry’s character with love bite bruises.

A huge thank you to Gina again. Thank you for being so open and honest while answering my questions. I had the best time talking to you and was so invested in every work of yours.

[n30nwrites]

Chapter 7 - Play Dead

Masterlist here

Warnings - Suicide (still alive, not detailed)

Beta Editor: @letmelickyoureyeballs

Note: Not back, but I need to post ig?? I'm 20 now.

Part of being on the job was having a code name. Maya’s was Silver, named after the element. Yours was Chimera, for reasons that you didn’t like thinking about. Price’s was based off his last name, a little on the nose but the man was cocky. Ghost was silent, unknown. His face was unknown, it matched him. But revealing identities was dangerous in the workforce. It did not take a lot for people to sell people out, which is why you had to focus on calling them the correct names. 

Soap interrupts your thoughts.

“I thought you had a car? That jeep you-”

“I can’t drive. I never really cared to learn how too.” You tell Soap, leaning next to Silver as she just stares outside the window. It took her a different mindset to get ready for a mission, one she was currently mentally preparing for. 

Price speaks up next, “It’s kind of important to know how to-”

“Why weren’t you alive 6 years ago?” Ghost interrupts Price, and you know he thinks it's for a good reason. Since the showdown, things have been tense between the two of you. Silver had to convince you to share a vehicle with them, and you only agreed for emotional support. The vehicle was a Ford Explorer, three rows with two seats in each. Soap was driving, Maya sat next to him and was controlling the radio. Price was next to you, and Ghost and Gaz were behind you. “Laswell told me to stop looking into you. Are you a threat?” He decides to not mention how Laswell only hired the two of you through KorTac because of him and how he mentioned you two were his new neighbors. He figured it would irritate you more and he didn’t care to have a gun pointed at him again.

“To you? Probably. As of right now, no.” You look at the flag of your country of origin. It reminded you of your naivety of the world when you first came here. Things had changed since then. “I was alive 6 years ago, I’m older than all of you-”

“Not possible.” Price cuts you off. 

“It is when you aren’t human.” Price’s eyes widen, and Ghost’s movements come to a halt. “It seems Soap forgot to mention that to you.” They turn to the driver who has a sheepish smile on his face. Even Gaz seems surprised. You scoffed at them, turning back to the window Maya was looking at.

The building was plain. Mainly gray and it looks like a warehouse. It’s meant to be inconspicuous, an unofficial military base. There isn’t even a fence surrounding it yet it is one of the safer buildings in this state. There’s not many people in this building, and the ones that are are mostly human. You could see the state of their souls, including the direction they were heading when this journey of life was done.

The walls were bland, the entire building was quiet. You didn’t like it. Despite looking abandoned on the outside, it was meticulously clean. Maya was the one leading, despite it being her first time in the building. She was going off of instinct, all of them knew it.

The room you entered looked the opposite. It looked, lived in, messy. There were papers scattered on a table, and some pinned to a cork board. It looked like something out of a tv show. But some of the information was redacted, marked off with thick black sharpie covering words of an unknown origin.

Laswell flinches once you enter the room. Your energy is heavy to her, she’s aware that the boys can’t feel it, but she knows they can tell of her distaste for you. She was glaring from the minute you walked in, but smiled brightly at Silver. You didn’t blame her for her distaste, it ran in your guys' blood. Hating each other was normal. Even though you two personally had no beef.

“Chimera.”

“Angel. Nice to see you again.”

“I’m sure.” Laswell hated that nickname. She gets reminded of why she had this position in the first place. Most task forces in SpecGru that are made up of the supernatural were under her order. But you were KorTac, she couldn’t control you. “Your file is blacked out, like usual.”

“Aw, reading up on me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She tells you, “The only reason you’re here is because of your history with Graves.” 

“And the only reason you’re here is because-”

“Get on with the debriefing.” Price interrupts as Maya pulls you away from the Archangel. You don’t stare at her with hatred, despite your words making everyone think you hate her, instead it’s just some neutral stare with a cocky smirk. “We don’t have all day.”

Laswell goes over the mission. It’s always the same. Flying to a different country, killing so many people that Charon himself would regret being born, grabbing files (it’s always files?), and leaving, not thinking about the chaos you left behind. Graves has the support of the Shadow company, obviously. With a hidden location, and a benefactor that no one knew, the only way to get to Graves was to find the people closest to him.

It was time to leave. 

You had separated yourself from everyone, Price had stared after you and kept staring even when you were gone. It was strange. Almost like you blended into the shadows, but he knew you weren’t in the room. 

He just didn’t know where, and it almost worried him. 

Laswell didn’t seem to like you, she seemed disgusted in fact. Though she was smiling with Maya at this moment, and he didn’t understand anything. He wouldn’t get answers either, not from Laswell and not from you.

You were so unbelievably complicated. An intricate web of deceit and neutrality. He had no idea what to think of you. You weren’t perfect. If you were, you would actually tell him what was going on in that beautiful head of yours. He wouldn’t have to fight to have a conversation with you, and you’d actually go on a date with him.

To be fair, he had never asked you. That was what he was going to do after this mission. Just take you on a date, you had to at least give him a chance.

When you come back, you are in full uniform. A helmet that blocked your eyes so he could no longer see them, it was black as well. And finally your gun, an M4 Carbine with a nice scope on it. Silver had a more traditional helmet, similar to his and Soap’s. You seemed different though. 

Angry.

He could’ve sworn your eyes were glowing red. Bright enough for him to see through the sunglasses but dull enough that he had to take a second look at you. But you didn’t look at him, you didn’t look at anyone, and even Maya seemed to step away from you. She talked with Soap on the way to the carrier. You were left alone, in the back of the carrier, at least 5 feet away from the last person, which was Ghost. You didn’t speak at all. He couldn’t hear much from you.

Now that he thinks about it, he couldn’t even hear a heartbeat.

You will always remember your first encounter with violence. After just two days of being on Earth, you had entered a bank in the process of being robbed, and because of your idioticness (really your innocence on everything that was Earth) you died.

You died 7 more times after that. The last time being to your Husband. You packed up and left after that. You didn’t care to remember that now, not when you could die again and meet your maker. Not when your mates could die.

You were angry.

You had the high ground (Anakin) as you stared from the top of a building, watching over Silver, Ghost, and Price. Soap and Gaz had gotten separated but were still alive, considering you could hear the Scot yelling in your ear about how they wouldn’t let up. You aimed at a man hidden behind a vehicle, between Silver, Ghost, Price, and the men from the Shadow Company who are more than determined to kill Task Force 141, no one was paying attention to the man attempting to get away.

No one was until he dropped dead. Then it seemed half of the soldiers that you were in battle with turned your way and you ducked under the building parapet. Your eyes dart to the next building. You could make it, you had jumped the River Styx, You’ve made your way through Jaaniw, Jumped out and into Hell (and even Heaven a few times), Escaped the Lake of fire, you could make a simple jump between a building.

Even while being shot at. You had survived worse.

Your head shook, almost inhuman, and your fangs became refined. Your eyes glowed as did your veins as your nails sharpened. This was who you were. Well, part of it. You were still missing two parts. 

You jumped, higher than needed and the gunshots followed. With your heightened sense of hearing you could hear the surprised gasps from the Shadow company along with the inquiries of Price and Ghost. You sat up and aimed once again, shooting twice, never missing.

You didn’t miss. You never missed. With each kill it seemed you got worse, more bloodthirsty. Panting as you craved this feeling. This was what your Heaven was. Punishing those who deserved it, and what was better?

Getting back at Graves of course. 

You dashed to the opposite side of the wall, before turning around and jumping immediately, not worrying about dying due to height. Your body almost collided with the building but you put a stop to it, your claws extending as you dug into the brick, the building cracking as debris fell with you. You jumped once again, almost like you were climbing down the wall without some sort of protective gear.

You didn’t care anymore.

Your feet hit the ground and you growled. Gunshots were still ringing, and you locked eyes with one of your temporary teammates.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.

How was he so gorgeous even when sweating his ass off. It wasn’t fair. The words ‘mate’ left your mouth faster than you could think. You were angry at the idea of something happening to him, to both Soap and Gaz.

You turned to your other temporary teammate. Soap was staring, blood covering him from head to toe, he looked worse than Gaz. You rushed over, checking their bodies for wounds. You couldn’t smell his blood, just the enemies. “You guys are okay?”

“What’s gotten into you?” Gaz questions, touching your shoulder, which causes you to pause. You don’t like touch, not from strangers and you have to convince yourself to ignore the shiver from it, and ignore the feelings that rose with it. They were fighting against each other and you hated it. “You seem different.”

“You two should stay near me.” You tell them, “Keep safe. Mates are safer together.” You spoke the last bit to yourself as you turned towards the gun shots. “The rest are over here.” The two followed you as you snuck over to the others. It seemed that the chaos was almost over, just a few more men. And you decided to end it right there.

Sneaking up from behind, you quickly put one man into a chokehold, shooting the other point-blank in the head, his body collapsed onto the ground right as you yanked your shoulder back, snapping the other guy’s neck and dropping the body with a large thud. Gaining the attention of the final man, he shot at you quickly, firing three rounds at your chest, which would’ve hit.

They should’ve hit.

But you were gone, and Soap and Gaz watched as you appeared right behind him, knife in hand as you slit his throat. You were smiling, almost deranged as you stared at them while his body dropped. “Let’s go meet with the others, ay?”

“He’s in the building.” Price tells you all, and Silver’s hand starts to glow as she finishes a rune she was carving on her arm. Before she turns to you. 

“Lift your sleeve.” She mumbles as Price continues to speak. It seemed like you two were in your own little world, she avoids your gaze though. It seemed even your partner was being cautious with you. As if a wrong move could set off a volcano, she gently turns your arm and traces your veins. “You need to calm down.” 

“They were almost hurt. They could’ve been hurt. They shouldn’t be doing this.” You lean closer to her yet you still look at the men behind her.

“They are grown men. They’ve done this before, and they aren’t human. They will be fine.” She reassures you. “You only feel this way because of your current mindset, once you get back home this won’t matter anymore.” She hates the words that leave her mouth, you would care in your own twisted way. The way that meant pushing everyone away because you were hurt once before and therefore every man would hurt you.

She wished you would just get some damn therapy.

Task Force 141 does not notice what is going on until they smell blood. Then their heads snap towards you, where they witness Maya cutting into your skin with her knife, the blood that forms is black. Soap takes a step towards her until you look at him, “Don’t,” you warn them as she carves the first rune into your arm. It was something simple, something that would help you in the near future.

He’s inside the building. It’s four stories, looks to be abandoned but you can sense dozens upon dozens of people from the Shadow Company all looking around, waiting for all of you. It would be intimidating if you weren’t so confident. Plus you would never let humans hurt your mates, nor Maya.

Yourself, you didn’t really care. You always came back.

You weren’t paying attention to Price’s plan, and so while his entire idea was to sneak past everyone (which would fail because despite being trained, Gaz is not the best at sneaking around) and find your target, the less bloodshed the better, your plan was to just find his soul and drag him down with you. But that would require leaving your mates and you couldn’t do that right now.

The debriefing ended, everyone agreeing to sneak into the building through an unused underground hallway because of course this building had one. There seemed to be a gathering going on, you weren’t sure. But the group all walked in a line.

You stood behind Gaz, watching and preventing any misstep he might’ve taken. It was strange to suddenly start caring about them. You knew it would disappear as soon as the mission was over and yet you couldn’t find yourself to care. You would enjoy this for the moment.

You would enjoy him for the moment.

Yeah, you were staring at Gaz’s ass. It was inappropriate, especially when you were sneaking around. You had completely zoned out. Thankfully your face was covered because it was so obvious what you were doing. Especially to Maya who was following right behind Ghost but constantly glancing at you, and despite not looking at her you knew she was rolling her eyes. But you couldn’t care. It would all disappear, these feelings. After the mission it would disappear, so while you had half of your soul, you were going to keep staring. 

You barely hear Price yelling your name. It takes Ghost grabbing your shoulder roughly for you to snap out of it. It reminds you that he’s right behind you, walking in a row. “Something interesting with Gaz, sergeant?” He seems he wants to embarrass you, enjoying your pause.

“It’s Colonel, Second Lieutenant.” You called him by his title, “And just his ass.” You admitted, “It’s nice.”

Gaz just looks surprised, slightly confused but his heart is fluttering. He makes eye contact with you and you just wink. It’s not the time but you couldn’t care. “Let’s just get this shit on the road.” Maya says as she pushes Ghost away in a way to keep the peace between you two. “Let’s just find this guy and get out of here.” Maya glares at you as she says this sentence, trying to get you to act right for the next 30 minutes before you two would inevitably break off from the rest of the group.

It didn’t take long to find him. He held himself up in a meeting room, holding a gun out to everyone, he was severely outmatched but still thought he had a chance. He’s dressed in a nice suit, so nice it felt like he was overcompensating (he was) but he didn’t seem terrified, more like he was cocky. You could only guess that he thought he could talk himself out of this. The room itself looked like it was made to hold meetings, a large round table in the center that could hold up to 18 people, maybe 22 if some more chairs were pulled up. It was decorated in red and had deer heads mounted against the wall. He rotated the gun to aim at each and everyone’s head, but you didn’t waiver. None of them did.

“Tell us everything about Graves.” You ordered.

He told you where he thought Graves was heading, his plan to take over, and how he faked his death. He wanted revenge, as most men did. Then he continued his rant. It was all stupid, you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Being powerful was a drug, addictive but once you’ve had it you become stupid with desperation. Graves was, and so was this man.

“Graves won’t stop until he finds-” he says your name in disbelief and you glare at him, Soap stares at you, but the rest keep up the facade. “Which is strange because he’s supposed to be dead.” He doesn’t recognize you, he wouldn’t with the mask and the complete uniform change, if all he’s seen is a photo of your face, he wouldn’t know it was you. But they did, there was no way they didn’t.

Damn, he really just outed all your secrets didn’t he. Why doesn’t he tell them all about your heritage too while he’s at it.

You stalked closer to him, while he stares at Price. Silver is on the opposite end of where you are, she looks at you while you move closer and she does the same. He decides to start swinging his gun around at both of your movements, not sure who to shoot first, but he was making a choice.

Chimera or Silver.

The choice was obvious to him. And he fired.

“Oh you sexist pig are you kidding me! The woman really?” You exclaim as his bullet collides with her skin, but no longer does she look the same. Her skin has changed, now impenetrable. The bullet just flattens against her skin and drops to the ground. His face changes, and he yells in disbelief. It is always strange when a human suddenly finds out about the supernatural. But he didn’t have anymore time to react as you went over to him and snapped his neck. You felt his soul go through you before he went down, goosebumps formed on your arms because of it. Another soul you had to accept into the gates of hell, which you did immediately. 

“When the fuck were you gonna tell us you were married to Graves?” Price moves fast, stepping quickly to get in front of you before grabbing onto your shoulder, confronting you immediately once the man is down. “This is something we should’ve known.”

“Calm the fuck down, Alpha.” You pushed back, taunting him, “It wasn’t relevant information. And don’t touch me again.”

“You should’ve told us.” Gaz says, interrupting the showdown. “We should know you’re married.”

“Was married.” You were disgusted just thinking about him.

“That doesn’t matter, you have ties to the man we are hunting down!” Soap interjected.

“Oh god this is pathetic.” You rolled your eyes, “Is this what you’re gonna do now? You guys think you’re entitled to my business just because I made a bet with Isis years ago this is just bull shit. Are you guys gonna question me the whole way?” From the way Ghost was looking at you, you got your answer. “This is just great.” You backed away from them. 

“Were you gonna tell us?” Ghost asks.

“Maya, wake me up when we’re at the base.” 

You take out your gun, and shoot yourself.

________________

Taglist

@moooonred @th1kc-skulls @callsign-selkie @thehighlordishere @zforgottensniper @tikitsune @spooky-season-is-best-season @animefan106spots @bitchyzombienacho @azrielsshadows42

[silverynight]

The heart of the barbarian King

<---Previous

Chapter 19

When they arrive at the place, everyone is waiting outside the building that serves as a prison. Izuku knows Chisaki is in one of those cells, still trying to cause some trouble somehow.

Katsuki spots him first and spreads his arms so the omega rushes towards him to feel the warmth of his body against his. Izuku breathes in his chest, finding comfort in the alpha's scent.

There are other people around besides Todoroki and his knight Iida; one of them is a woman whom Izuku has seen often in the market, she smiles at him as soon as she notices him staring. Since Kirishima kinda explained the situation to him on their way to the building, Izuku supposes she's representing all the clan leaders who accepted him as one of them.

But the man next to her has a completely different demeanor; he keeps glaring at Izuku the whole time, and the omega recognizes him after a while. He's one of the clan leaders who refused to acknowledge him the first time Katsuki introduced him to his people.

"Nobody is going to take our pup away, I promise," Katsuki mumbles against his soft curls, helping him relax a little.

Izuku finds it endearing that he also considers Eri his pup already.

"What is he doing here?" The male alpha asks, rather irritated. His features are familiar to Izuku.

"He's my omega, and he has important information regarding the pup we were discussing about earlier," Katsuki explains. "Chisaki claims now that she's his pup, but according to Izuku, that's not true."

When the barbarian King nods at the omega, Izuku starts explaining that not only Chisaki admitted to have caused the fire with the help of someone from inside, he also told Izuku that he found Eri and decided to keep her because she could be useful in the future.

The female beta, one of the clan leaders, looks horrified, but the man next to her, the alpha, only glares at Izuku even more.

"Why should we believe him? He's not even a barbarian!"

"He became one of us the moment I started courting him, Hamasaki," Katsuki says, trying not to growl.

So that's why he seems familiar, he must be the father of the beta girl who said those awful things to Izuku a couple of months ago.

"We haven't approved of that courtship!" Hamasaki snarls, prompting the beta woman next to him to narrow her eyes at him.

Katsuki looks like he's about to explode, but Izuku leans closer to him, nuzzling against his chest to calm him down.

When the King does relax a bit, the omega swears he watches Kirishima sigh in relief.

"My daughter is the perfect fit for–"

"You seem to have forgotten the old rules," the beta woman cuts him off, looking rather pissed. "We, as clan leaders, can give our opinion about certain matters that concern our people, but we have never interfered in the King's private life. He has the right to choose his future mate."

Hamasaki is fuming, but it seems he can't argue with that; part of his fury is directed at Izuku again.

"I have always loved Izuku," Katsuki says then, looking rather smug for a moment. "And he's going to be my consort soon."

Hamasaki narrows his eyes even more, but he doesn't utter a word, at least not at the moment.

The omega can't help but purr at the King's words and immediately gives Katsuki's a quick kiss on his chin.

He's a very good alpha, Izuku can't wait to marry him.

"I still don't see why we should believe him more than Chisaki; the former general has done a lot for us over the years."

"Yet he also tried to steal and mate an omega against his will," Kirishima recounts, using his fingers to number Chisaki's transgressions. "He fought the King for Midoriya and lost, and was banned for using black magic. He returned, burned a house, endangering the people inside, and tried to kidnap the King's intended."

"Given his criminal record," All Might adds, finally coming into the light, looking intimidating despite his old age. "It seems to me that he has lost his credibility a while ago."

Prince Todoroki nods at the retired hero's words in approval.

"That man has no honor anymore, his word cannot be more important than Midoriya's."

Izuku smiles at Todoroki's support, prompting the prince to grin back at him.

Hamasaki grits his teeth in rage, but even he knows it doesn't look good for Chisaki. Then, he tries to control himself.

"We still have to hear what he has to say one more time," he insists. "Now that everyone's here."

Only five of them walk into the prison, Hamasaki, the beta woman whose family name is Takahashi, All Might, Katsuki and Izuku.

Chisaki smirks the moment he spots the green haired omega and moves closer to the metal bars.

"I'm glad you came, Midoriya. I thought Bakugo wasn't gonna let me see you again," The former general says, too amused for someone who's currently imprisoned. "He's probably scared that you'll change your mind about him and choose me instead."

Izuku rolls his eyes, but takes Katsuki's hand to prevent him from doing something reckless.

"I want to see Eri too," Chisaki says then, noticing that he's not getting the reaction he's looking for. "I have the right to see my own child after all."

Immediately, the omega tenses and exposes his sharp teeth for a couple of seconds, the way Chisaki smiles at his response tells Izuku that he only wants to provoke him.

"She's not your pup. You told me so."

"I did not do such thing," the alpha keeps smirking, getting on Izuku's nerves. "Why don't you bring her here so we can ask her?"

Both Chisaki and Izuku know that Eri is not going to lie; it'd be a waste of time, and being here with the person who probably took her from her homeland is not going to be pleasant for her.

He just wants to hurt Izuku by making Eri suffer in front of him.

And he's not going to let that happen.

"No." Izuku growls, making Hamasaki look at him in shock as Katsuki grins with pride. "She doesn't have to see you again. The clan leaders can come to my house and ask her themselves if they want to. But I'm not going to expose her to... this."

"You talk about her like she's your pup," Chisaki observes, fascinated.

"That's because she is," the omega retorts, trying not to snarl at the alpha again, no matter how much he wants to.

Toshinori looks proudly at him too, but Izuku is too tense, and so focused on Chisaki to notice.

"If general Chisaki claims she's his child-"

"I agree with Midoriya," Takahashi cuts the other clan leader off, smiling gently at the omega. "This is no place for a pup. If what the former general says is true, then the child can tell us herself if she wants to see her father."

Chisaki tries not to look pissed at her, but he clearly is.

"If I can't have my child then I want my omega back," the alpha behind the bars smirks at Izuku again, this time, Katsuki can't help it, he snarls at the other alpha.

"He's not your omega!" The King snaps, although he tries to relax the moment he feels one of Izuku's hands over his shoulder.

"I don't want you as my alpha, Chisaki."

"Since when omegas get to decide anything?" The alpha starts getting pissed. "They don't have any fucking idea what they want! They're sluts who turn into animals the moment they see a good coc-"

"Enough," All Might's deep voice startles them all. Izuku knows everyone can tell how angry he is; even Chisaki takes a few steps back into his own cell. "We have given you plenty of opportunities to explain yourself and the only thing you have done is waste our time. You'll be properly judged tomorrow."

Chisaki tries to protest, but the barbarian King makes him shut up with a very murderous expression.

"Don't make this worse for you," he says before turning around and taking Izuku with him.

This time, not even Hamasaki tries to defend him.

While Katsuki explains everything that happened to Kirishima, Todoroki and Iida, Izuku gets closer to his mentor and gives him a hug.

"Everything is going to be fine," Toshinori assures him, ruffling his green curls affectionately. "I think you should go back home to rest."

"Come with me, Kacchan!" Izuku asks, once his alpha is close enough to them.

"Of course, I'll stay with you a couple of hours," the King promises, pulling the omega into his arms and giving him a soft kiss on the top of his head.

"Thanks, Kacchan!" The only thing he wants now is to cuddle with Katsuki and his pup on the couch for a while.

***

When they arrive, they find Yaoyorozu, Jiro and Eri playing a game. They all can hear Eri's giggles coming from behind the couch, and yet the female omega keeps pretending she can't find her.

Izuku finds it endearing and thanks the universe for bringing such nice people into his life; the people in his old village weren't so kind.

When they notice his presence, Yaoyorozu makes a silent gesture to him so he can keep looking for his pup instead of Jiro. The female omega immediately gets closer to the knight, and Toshinori decides to explain everything that happened to them in the kitchen.

Katsuki watches with a fond smile on his face as Izuku walks silently towards the couch and surprises Eri by leaning over and saying: "I found a pup here!"

Eri not only giggles, she beams as soon as she recognizes the omega.

"Zuku!"

She makes grabby hands at him, and even though he's hurt, he feels like he can't deny her that.

However, Katsuki is next to them in a second, and kindly looks at the pup.

"Is it okay if I carry you instead of Izuku? He's still a bit hurt."

Eri looks at the bandages and then at the blond alpha in front of her and silently nods. Izuku knows Katsuki could look intimidating sometimes, but the fact that she has seen the omega being so physically affectionate around him makes her trust him.

As the barbarian King carries her and sits on the couch, Izuku immediately sits next to them to nuzzle his pup. The omega's scent always helps Eri relax.

"Did you have fun with your new friends?"

"Yes!" The girl immediately says, beaming. And then she proceeds to tell Izuku and Katsuki all the different games they played while the omega was gone.

By the time she's done, Toshinori already told everything to Yaoyorozu and Jiro, and they both say that it's time for them to leave. The female knight has to reunite with Prince Todoroki and Iida, and the female omega clearly wants to walk her outside to spend even more time with her.

"Thank you for taking care of Eri," Izuku says, voice full of gratitude.

"It was our pleasure," Yaoyorozu responds, smiling kindly. "We'll probably come see her again soon."

"So we can play more!" Eri adds, quite happy.

"Of course!" Jiro says before walking outside next to Yaoyorozu. "See you soon!"

Izuku feels relieved that Eri doesn't seem interested in what he was doing outside and happily keeps speaking of the games they played. He hopes she doesn't ask tomorrow once when her excitement is gone.

She keeps going for a couple of minutes until she falls asleep in the King's arms; Katsuki then goes upstairs to leave her in Izuku's bedroom.

When he comes back, he sits next to the omega again and pats his own lap as he looks at Izuku with a mischievous grin on his face.

Izuku giggles and immediately sits on his alpha's lap before nuzzling against Katsuki's cheek.

"You're the best thing that could have happened to me," Katsuki says, almost in a whisper, vulnerable, but so full of adoration that the omega can't help but purr in response.

Now that Eri is not around, Katsuki grabs his omega's chin and starts kissing him like he's starving. Izuku purrs again and sighs happily before kissing him right back. After all the things Chisaki said, the only thing he wants is to feel close to the alpha he loves.

However, it seems they both forget they're not actually alone because when All Might clears his throat, they both pull away a bit startled and confused. Izuku blushes to the tip of his ears as Yagi hands him a cup of tea; Katsuki narrows his eyes, not quite happy with the interruption, but also takes the cup that the retired hero hands to him.

However, the alpha keeps Izuku on his lap the whole time as the three of them discuss what happened.

"Tomorrow, he's going to be put on trial," the King explains. "And even though I'm sure the majority will find him guilty, there's still the problem that we have at least a few people among us who helped him commit those crimes. We need to be careful."

He looks at Izuku in a way that tells the omega everything he needs to know even before Katsuki says it.

"I know you don't like it, but I'd sleep better if you always have someone with you to protect you and Eri."

"I think you're right," Izuku says, surprising Katsuki a bit. The truth is that now that he has his pup, he's more than willing to take all the precautions necessary to keep her safe.

"I'll take care of them, young Bakugo," All Might promises, which makes the King relax even more.

"Thank you."

"You don't need to. I'm doing this because I love my son."

That makes Izuku tear up a bit; Katsuki starts gently kissing his tears away as Toshinori smiles at them both.

"I love you too, Yagi-san," the omega mumbles, as Katsuki presses a kiss on the top of his head.

After a while, Izuku falls asleep in his alpha's arms.

***

You can read Chapter 20,  Chapter 21 and Chapter 22 on my patreon already!

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[smoothlikealikeasnake]

I love your A/B/O dynamics in SC&SC!

The boys are strong and protective but their alphas just want to provide and nurture which is normally a very omega trait to show.

Then the omegas (at least yn) is soft and likes to nest but is very determined and head strong, a normal alpha quality. With her omega being like girl you a boss that’s cool but let these hot men adore you! Not forcing her into the “docile” role but just telling her to take a break and then get back to it.

I really love how you mixed the best parts of both into each sub gender. Did you come up with all of this yourself, or did you take inspiration from another of your favorite fics?

Can’t wait to read so much more!!!! I feel like we are just getting to all the good fluffy parts!

UGH I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE YOU!!! 💖💖

When it comes to their dynamic I don’t believe my inspiration came from any particular favourite fics but I’ve read so many amazing ones that I do take hints of inspiration for characters here and there. When it comes to A/B/O my favourite fic has to be Before I Leave You by Hollyhomburg !! Truly amazing, I’d re-read a million times and another incredible writer is Jungkoode ! Kiki’s fic’s are just 🤌😘

I definitely take inspiration on how to write better based on fics I read but when it comes to plot and such this is entirely my own trail of thoughts, I literally am noting random things everyday on my notes app to do with SC&SC that adds to, changes and reinforces the characters and plot even 10-20 chapters in the future😭

I’ve honestly aligned their dynamics (a/b/o wise) with what BTS themselves have showed. They continuously push away toxic masculinity, gender norms and stereotypes and this is kind of what I’ve tried to recreate in the fic hence their almost switching of qualities at times! Reinforcing qualities not stereotypically assigned to them such as their needs to nurture and for MC, being headstrong and stubborn in her own way, being true to her dreams and wants in a world where she is going against a lot of expectations, not just her nature but not being in a pack, living alone, being a boss and building a successful business from the ground up; these are all things that a lot of a/b/o fics would classify as Beta or mostly Alpha qualities and it still is in the universe!

That’s why I mention that people are shocked and often confused on why she doesn’t have a pack, Dr.Kim is often concerned for her health and has taken her as sort of a daughter and Mr and Mrs Han do the same because as we’ve seen, she rejects part of her biological guidelines for her success and she won’t change her determination for anyone. These characters are examples of acceptance, they embrace her defiance and step up to support her from afar constantly 💜

This doesn’t mean she rejects all of ‘being an omega’ obviously because as you said, she loves to nest, she loves to nurture, she has that caring quality but for a while she pushed further than she could physically handle (no matter how much she’ll deny that) so only then did her omega put a hard stop in. I like to think they have a balance, which I’ve mentioned before is hard to find, the alphas struggle with it, some more than others and so does MC but she’s slowly finding that inbetween.

Like yeah you be your own boss and make your dreams come true but TAKE A BREAK and accept the love and care these alphas are subtly (AND NOT SO SUBTLY) trying to throw your way! They care, she cares.

The boys won’t force her to stop or push any of those omegan qualities on MC no matter what, not just because they are accepting and progressive but also because they won’t be hypocrites, like Joon pointed out in last chapter, they do understand exactly what it’s like to be overworked because they do it themselves! Just because their bodies will physically react slightly different to it because they are alphas doesn’t mean they will force her to put a stop in her dreams just from being an omega because they know what it’s like to have those dreams, they’ve achieved and are still achieving so many of their goals and they won’t stop others from doing the same.

I am writing a universe where they are still the idols they are in our own universe but fictional (obviously) both plot and biology wise so I take a lot of inspiration from real things that happened with BTS, from their successes, experiences and just a lot of moments and such!

So yes! They definitely all have qualities of each sub gender rather than just those typically assigned to each of them and I love that for this fic! In the future you’ll find they can lean more into their biology more than they do currently with eachother, in a 10000% positive way!

Whew I feel like I kind of went on a tangent there but I hope this explains my own thought process a little!

I absolutely LOVE you going into it like this and YES we are getting to all the fluffy parts!!

Mwah 💖

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Part II

We Don’t Fit in Well (‘Cause We Are Just Ourselves)

James T. Kirk (AOS) x Reader

Description: Seeing the snow fall used to be one of your favorite things. But now, you're not sure. Everything seems so messy now. Your thoughts, your feelings, your mind, your heart - it's all in a disarray. Jim's just as discombobulated as you are. You've made some inroads with him since you got snowed in. But it's not enough. You're not sure it ever will be.

Warnings: Arguments, Mentions of Drunken Behavior, Injuries, Rough language

These will change from chapter-to-chapter. I will do my best to denote all happening as faithfully as I can. If any of these items bothers you, please do not read. One chapter of this fic includes non-graphic descriptions of Torture. All trigger warnings will be clearly demarcated in this fic.

Author’s Note: Hello my lovelies! I'm back again with a second part to this fic! The snowed in saga continues and I hope you all love it!

I of course have to thank my faithful beta readers (and biggest cheerleaders) @desert-fern, @horseshoegirl and @sarahsmi13s for reading bits and pieces of this fic and making sure I was doing it justice. I also want to thank @a-reader-and-a-writer! Vee sent me this ask around then and nearly a year and a half later, we have this fic!

This is going to be a multi-part story. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Word Count: 5038

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

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“So you want to clean my house?” 

He sounds incredulous, but you’re not sure why - the house is beyond filthy. In the two days you've spent in Riverside, you've spent your time either eating, reading or sleeping. Jim's been doing much the same. The wound on his forehead has scabbed over, the bruise turning green and then yellow as it heals. Both of you have been too worn out, too shy to break the comfortable silence to talk much, content to just be in the same room - together yet alone with only your respective thoughts for company.

“I'd kind of like a bed to sleep in, you know? Your sofa is great, but it's not great for more than a couple of hours napping. It’s wreaking havoc on my back.”

“Then I'll take the sofa, and you can take my room.” 

He says it as a matter of fact, but you're not sure you can take him up on that offer. There are bags under his eyes, and you’re sure he hasn’t slept any better than you have been.

“I’m not taking your bed from you, Jim.” 

You sigh, leaning back on the couch with the throw over your lap. He’s rumpled and sleep-worn, settled on the other end of the sofa from you. Both of you are staring at the wall of snow building up outside the window, steaming mugs held securely in your hands. It looks oddly peaceful, seeing your reflection and his. In another universe, another happier time, you’d be curled up under his shoulder, and you’d both be smiling.

“We both need to be able to sleep. And this sofa isn’t going to help.”

“What, you need the sleep so you can nag me back into the arms of ‘Fleet?” You can hear the sardonic, sarcastic edge in his voice, but you won’t fall for the trap he’s setting. He doesn’t look ready for a fight either. It’s more like he’s throwing out sarcastic barbs rather than facing the real reason why you’re here. Instead you drain the last of your coffee and stand, stretching out the kinks in your back.

“Are you coming, Kirk?” 

You inject false cheer into your voice, trying to keep your mood light as you walk up the stairs.

 “I would hate to find something you’d rather have hidden up here.”

It’s not a big house. Upstairs, the hallway is short, with four doors branching out. There’s one door to your left and three to your right. There’s a sign on one of the doors to the right, and the door next to it is half open, showing off white tiles. It feels like you’re in a completely different place. Upstairs, it’s dusty, but it’s not a mess. It feels like nobody’s been up here in years, a deceptive thought because Jim’s been disappearing up here every night. You stand in the hallway for a long time, dragging in lungfuls of the dusty air, thinking furiously. How do you approach this? How do you walk into sacred territory without permission?

“I would’ve thought you’d have blundered into any room that caught your fancy.”

You startle out of your contemplation, head jerking up to see the ghost of the easy grin you’re used to seeing on Jim’s face. 

“I-” You swallow noisily as he steps in closer. He’s so warm, so alive even when he looks broken, beaten down. The bags under his eyes are so purple and dark they’re as livid as bruises. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“So you need me?” His hands are big-boned yet oddly delicate as they take yours, long fingers intertwined with yours as he drags you to the door with the off-kilter sign proclaiming, “Jim’s Room - Keep Out Sam!”.

“What, Kirk? Does that give your ego a boost?” There’s a twin bed pushed under the window, sheets mussed, the sand-blue sheets trailing onto the floor. The sheets match the walls, a mockery of the clear blue shade of the eyes of the man holding your hand. It feels like a memorial to the boy, the man he used to be in here. There are still childhood novels on the shelves, the real paper impossibly precious in an era of PADDs, a baseball bat in the corner and the desk is strewn with the guts of some machinery you couldn’t name if you tried.

“Sweetheart, that boosts my ego like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Hmm?” You’re dragged out of your perusal of the books when his hand wraps around your elbow. “Did you say something, Kirk?”

You look up into those blue eyes, twinkling a little.

“Yeah, sweetheart. But it’s not important. You like books? The paper kind?”

You nod almost too eagerly, gingerly smoothing your palm over the fragile, delicate, soft pages. 

“There’s something special about a physical book. The feeling of them in your hands, the scent of the paper, the smell of the ink. It’s a completely different experience reading a book instead of a PADD.”

His hands shake just a little as he takes the book from you.

“Yeah, those are some of the reasons why I love them, too.”

The cover is worn. A copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne. He tugs you to sit on the bed, the sheets cool and smelling strongly of his cologne.

“It’s pretty clean in here, right?” 

You nod. 

“Would you be comfortable sleeping here if I take one of the other bedrooms?” 

You’re not sure you can take his bed from him. It sounds a little like torture - being surrounded by his cologne, curling up in his sheets, and wishing you could be curled up in his arms instead.

“Where will you sleep if I’m here?” 

“I can take one of the other bedrooms.” His smile is gentle.

“Do you need any help cleaning one of the other rooms?” 

“Nah, sweetheart. Why don’t you go make us lunch and get a headstart on dinner?” 

You squeeze his forearm gently before banishing yourself back downstairs. His quick refusal of your help, the way his eyes had shifted when he told you to sleep in his bed and how he’d so easily told you he’d be okay taking one of the others? It sounds like he’s hiding something. But you’re trying not to pry, to overstep the lines he’s so clearly drawn in the sand. They’re so deep they might as well be ravines. But how do you broach what is bothering him when he oh so clearly doesn’t want to talk about it?

It’s the question on your mind as you fall into the relaxing activity of making a pot of stew for the two of you to share. The kitchen smells like rich tomato and fragrant meat when Jim walks in, exhaustion heavy in the slope of his shoulders, smears of dust staining the dark hoodie he’s thrown over the sweatpants he’s been wearing all day.

“That smells amazing.” His eyelids flutter as he leans over the bubbling pot, breathing deeply. He takes the ladle from your hand and nudges you to the side with his hip. He drags it through the broth and sips from the ladle. The moan leaving his lips has you freezing in your tracks. After only a single night, his musical moan shouldn’t have heat swirling in the pit of your stomach, making sweat bead up on your brow. But it does, and you’re not sure whether you can stomach confronting how it - how he - makes you feel.

“Damn, sweetheart.” He groans as he sets the ladle back on the spoon rest and turns to face you. “If I’d known you could cook like this, I would’ve had you cook for me a long time ago.”

“It’s nothing much.” You murmur, bending your head over the cutting board where you’ve been cutting some vegetables for a salad to serve on the side.

“It’s amazing, sweetheart.” He steals a carrot from the cutting board, munching on it with what you know is an infuriating grin on his face. “I’ve been living off cereal and takeout for the past few months.”

“You have to take better care of yourself.” 

You admonish him gently, a half-smile on your lips. He’s like a whirlwind in this kitchen, dancing around you like it’s second nature to have you here. You’re not sure where he pulled the bottle of wine out from, but it’s in his hands, and the cork is out before you can blink. He pours a healthy glassful for each of you but nabs one to start drinking immediately. 

“Let that breathe, Jim!” 

You bump him out of the way, stealing the glass from his hands.

“You don’t call me by my name very often.” He murmurs, fishing a cherry tomato out of the salad bowl despite your disapproving look.

“You infuriate me enough that I don’t think you deserve it - most of the time.” You shrug as you carefully transfer the stew into two bowls and set them on the table.

“And what about right now?”

You settle down into your seat. “Right now, I just want to eat a nice meal, drink some wine and do all of it with a friend.”

“We’re friends?” There's a naked shock in his tone at your honest statement.

“Of course we’re friends. I didn’t make the trip to the middle of nowhere, Iowa, in the middle of a blizzard for just anybody!”

There’s a smile on his face as he dips his spoon into the stew, steam bringing a blush to his pale cheeks. The kitchen is filled with the soft clatter of cutlery against ceramic for several minutes. When you push your bowl away, the apples of his cheeks are pink, a blush rising up his neck. He hasn’t been drinking any more than you have, and you know it is just the heat of the hot stew settling easily into his pale skin.

By unspoken accord, you wash up together, domestically, him washing while you dry, sipping on the wine. The easy banter, how he laughs every time he succeeds in flicking soapy water your way, makes your heart ache. You want this to be your everyday life one day, you and someone you love living together, building a life together. Your heart aches more because before the night you’d shared with the man standing on your left, you’d never thought you could have it. Now, all of your dreams have been rewritten, and remade in his image.

You don’t want the night to end. When you dry your hands and grab your wine glass, migrating your way to the living room, he follows you. There’s a roaring fire on the hearth, and you curl up on the sofa facing the bank of windows. Jim settles a cushion away, curling up an arm's length away from you on the other end of the sofa. The snow is still falling, fluffy and soft-looking, the sky gray with heavy clouds, every light bouncing across the pristine white.

“Tell me a secret?” His voice is so low you can barely hear it over the crackling logs on the fire.

“What kind of secret?” You turn a little on the sofa to face him.

“Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

You tip your head to the side, pillowing your cheek on the backrest as you peer blearily, exhaustedly, into his blue-eyed gaze.

“You first.” 

His brow furrows as he chews on his lip. You have to fight the urge to reach over and pull the abused flesh away.

“I haven’t been back to this house since I was thirteen. It was my nightmare coming back here. But right now, it doesn’t seem so bad.”

The questions rise up in your mind like a tidal wave. Why hasn’t he been back if he grew up here? Why did he leave? Why did he hate coming here? If he hated being in Riverside so much, why did he come back?

What can you tell him in return? He wants a secret you've never told anybody. But you're not sure you have a secret so precious, so carefully guarded.

“I don’t know why I joined Starfleet anymore. I wanted to see space, explore, and work with the best engineers in the galaxy and beyond. But after Vulcan and the Narada and everything that's happened since, I don't know what I'm doing here anymore.”

He hums, and you feel uncomfortably exposed. But he skirts past it, ignores it, returning the small kindness you’d granted him in turn. 

By the time the bottle of wine is empty, you feel languid and loose. You’re both sprawled over the sofa, legs intertwined over the middle cushion, with your feet pressed up under his thigh.

“Why didn’t we work, sweetheart?” 

It’s a question which hits you out of the blue. Of all the questions you’ve been expecting him to ask, the ones you’ve been lobbing back and forth all night haven’t hit quite so hard.

“You left.” You say it simply, as gently as you can bear. “I woke up the next morning, and you were gone. I couldn’t find you. It was like you disappeared. So how could we work with all of this distance between us?”

He curls a big hand around your ankle.

“I don’t think there’s any distance between us right now…” He’s got a gentle grin, his eyes twinkling in the dwindling firelight.

You tug your foot out of his grasp. “There’s plenty of distance between us, Jim.”

“Yeah?” You nod, tugging the throw blanket off the back of the sofa and onto your lap, playing with the fringe on the end.

“Where?”

You point to your heart and then draw a line to him.

“I don’t see anything there.”

You chuckle mirthlessly. “Well, you wouldn’t. The distance is for everyone else to discover. Ravines and No-man's-lands sprinkled through every interaction you have with other people.”

He blinks, blue eyes wide and uncomprehending.

“You’re a sweet guy, Jim.” You lean forward and press your lips against his cheek. “But you have to let other people in. You shouldn’t have to shoulder all the weight yourself. Others can and will help you. If you let them.”

You pretend not to hear the devastation in his voice when he calls your name as you walk away.

Hours later, the words you uttered and the secrets you shared are running amok in your brain. You haven’t been able to sleep a wink. It’s been too much, being wrapped up in the sheets still scented like his cologne, the cotton perfectly cool against your skin yet wreaking havoc on your self-control. You’ve been tossing and turning, rolling the pillow over and over, chasing the cool side like it will help you rest. But the rest hasn’t come. You haven’t heard a sound from Jim either, not since you heard a door close, loud in the quiet night.

At least until a hoarse shout rends the still night air, you rocket out of bed with a curse, fighting your way out of the bed sheets ensnared around you and to the door. There’s nobody else in the house. The pained shouts you hear have to be Jim. They’re heartbreaking and grow louder with every step you take to the room Jim’s sleeping in while you’re here.

“Jim?” Your voice is quiet, hesitant as you rap lightly on the door. “Are you okay?”

All you can hear is pained whimpers. After minutes of bated breath, of the continued shouts and screams interspersed with names you recognize, you crack the door. The bedroom you find yourself is a mirror image of the one you were just in. Far fewer books are on the shelves, but your quarry is the twin bed pushed up against the wall and the man lying on it.

“Jim?” He’s writhing on the bed, droplets of sweat on his brow. You cup his face in your hands, sinking down on the bed near his hip. “Jim, you’re safe. You’re okay.”

“It’s me,” You plead. “Wake up.”

Your pleas don’t work. He’s trapped in the nightmare’s clutches, every muscle tense as he spasms on the bed. You keep up a steady stream of soothing chatter, dabbing the sweat from his brow, cradling his head in your hands in a futile effort to show him he’s not alone. It breaks your heart when he finally jolts awake, a pitiful scream escaping his throat as he jerks upright.

He staggers to the restroom dazedly. You’re not sure he even registered you in the room with him. You let your head thud against the aged windowpane, hearing the pained, sputtering gasps as he spits bile into the toilet. Every muscle in your body is fatigued as you pour water into a glass from the pitcher you’d brought to your bedside and carry it into the bathroom. By the time you walk in, the light is on, and he’s bent over the sink, splashing water into his face like he wants to drown himself.

“Here,” you murmur, cupping the back of his neck. “Drink this.”

It shouldn’t hurt so much, how he flinches at your touch, but it does. He still takes the glass from you, draining the cup in thirsty gulps.

“W-why are you helping me, sweetheart?” His voice is ragged, hoarse from the screaming.

“Shhh, Jim.” You soothe, carefully tugging the glass from his unresisting fingers. “I told you earlier. Nobody should shoulder the weight of what happened on their own.”

“I couldn’t sleep anyways,” You hum as you trace the damp washcloth over his skin. His eyes are heavy as they peer down at you, the dark a heavy blanket over you both.

“How about some hot chocolate?” You’re graced with another shadow of his customary Kirk smile as you intertwine your fingers with his and lead him down the stairs.

It feels like another world in the kitchen downstairs as you skirt around Jim, putting a pot on the stove.

“What’re you making, sweetheart?” 

He still sounds a little bit like death warmed over, the bags under his eyes even darker, his skin pale. For the first time since you walked into his bedroom you see James Kirk as he is in this minute. He’s not the hero the Federation and Starfleet like to make him out to be. He’s a man - a broken-down, exhausted, heart-worn man. With hair mussed and wearing only low-slung sweatpants, you want to wrap him up in a blanket and kiss him (just a little).

“The hot chocolate I promised you.” You pour cream and milk into the pot, setting it to simmer gently on the stove before turning around.

“You don’t have to do that, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t.” You cup his jaw tenderly, fingers warm against the waxy coolness of his skin. “But I want to. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore, and I had a feeling you couldn’t either.”

“So, hot chocolate?”

“So hot chocolate.”

“And then what, sweetheart? You're going to make me spill my guts and fix me?” He sounds defensive again. A gritty voice stripped bare of any emotions, flat and lifeless.

“No. I’m too tired for that.” You attempt a smirk, but you have the feeling it falls flat. “We’re going to drink the hot chocolate sitting on the sofa. It’s going to be light and easy. If you want to talk to me? Then I’m here to listen. If you don’t, then it’s fine, and we’ll see where the rest of the night takes us.”

He snorts, tiredly running his hand through his hair, making it stick up even further. “It sounds so easy when you say it like that.”

He may be objecting just a little to your plans for the night, but he takes it anyway when you hand him his mug, topped with a mountain of whipped cream and a couple of hearty splashes of bourbon.

“I thought alcohol wasn’t the answer to everything, sweetheart.” 

If he’s grousing, then he must be feeling better. You’re smiling as you take his other hand, loath to let real life, the life where James T. Kirk doesn’t even think you’re good enough for more than a one-night-stand, intrude on this night. The sofa makes you groan as you settle into the cushions. By unconscious accord, you settle back into the positions you were in this morning, facing each other.

“Why do you want me to tell you what’s bothering me so much, huh, sweetheart?”

“Why do you keep calling me sweetheart?” You counter in return.

There’s something which looks a lot like heat in his eyes as he looks at you.

“I keep calling you a sweetheart because you genuinely are sweet. I haven’t had someone care for me like this in a long time.”

You have to hide your giddy smile behind the rim of your mug. Some of the spirit of the game you’d been playing after dinner soaks into your veins.

“I keep asking you to tell me what’s happening because I believe bottling things up isn’t good for your health. Whatever this is, it can’t be made worse by putting it into the air, where nobody can hear it except for me and the snow outside. What is worse is letting the bad things fester, until they’ve destroyed the good man at the heart of who James Tiberius Kirk is, until they overshadow all of the amazing things he’s done.”

“I’ve done amazing things?” 

You shrug, winking playfully over your mug.

“Sweetheart?”

He tugs at your ankle.

“What?”

“Put your mug down and c’mere.”

You do so willingly, letting Jim tug you in until your head is pillowed on his chest. 

“We might as well get comfy while I tell you my biggest nightmares.”

He slips his hands under your soft t-shirt, ignoring your grumble at how cold his fingers are as they collide with the small of your back.

“I know you were on the Enterprise during the Battle of Vulcan, sweetheart.”

You nod with your cheek squished against his chest. 

“It was terrifying, seeing so many fleet ships ripped apart by weaponry they couldn’t counter. Terrifying seeing the Narada looming on the horizon like a futuristic squid-like robot hell-bent on destroying a mostly innocent world.”

“I wasn’t supposed to be on the Enterprise at all. I was supposed to be in San Francisco, grounded until the Admiralty decided on the outcome of my academic hearing. Bones pulled me onto the Enterprise as my primary physician after infecting me with the symptoms of a virus contracted from Melvaran mud fleas.”

He’s breathing raggedly, heartbeat racing under your palm. His hands flex as they clutch you closer.

“Then I was being volunteered for death-defying stunts, plummeting through the atmosphere with only a parachute to show for my troubles, working to disable the drill. I’m an adrenaline junkie. I know I am, sweetheart. But I think that was too much for me. Sulu was on the drilling platform with me that day. And that’s my first nightmare.”

He’s shaking, eyes unseeing as he looks out the windows, the blue you love so much vacant in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I see him plummeting down to the ground. I can’t reach him like I did. And he’s gone. Screaming my name.”

You curl in closer, unwilling to let go or move a muscle, when you hear the tremor in his voice and feel the goosebumps covering his skin.

“I see every death the Narada caused in high definition, sweetheart. Billions of nameless, faceless Vulcans verbally eviscerating me the way Spock likes to, children asking me why I couldn’t save them. How do I go back to captaining a ship when those thoughts haunt me? How do I convince myself I’m not the monster I see in my dreams?”

He’s sniffling, and you shuffle closer, tipping your face upwards to press a gentle kiss against the underside of his jaw.

“Because you didn’t kill them, Jimmy.”

“Why does it feel like I did?” He’s loud, distress raising his voice, and you can hear the heartbreak in it as he swallows harshly. “I should have seen the signs!”

You squeak when he rises from the sofa, keeping you in his arms. You curl your arms around his neck, pressing your cheek against his, relishing the prickle of his stubble against your cheeks, loath to give up the contact.

“I’ve been researching what happened the day I was born practically my whole life - ever since I realized how much my mom hated my birthday. I knew all the signs - all of the extraplanetary phenomena, all the signs of an attack. I’ve been over the logs from the U.S.S Kelvin a hundred times. But I didn’t see it, sweetheart. Why didn’t I see it?”

You curl your fingers through his hair, feeling the hitch in his breath as tears splatter hot against your shoulder.

“Because you’re human, Jay.” 

He clutches tight to you like you’re slipping through his fingers aching with the need to be connected to you.

“Because for someone as smart as you are, and God,” you sigh, “you are incredibly smart. You don’t have the answers to the universe. It’s why you joined Starfleet. To search out those answers in the stars, out in galaxies we don’t know anything about. To find a purpose beyond drifting without a thing to anchor you.”

He freezes against you, body tense. If it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest, you would think you were wrapped around a wax statue. His body unfreezes in sections, hands flexing around your waist as he squeezes you close. You shudder at the feeling of his lips against your pulse. They’re soft kisses, tender and gentle.

“How did I get so lucky to have you here with me?” 

You hum as you scratch his scalp, just to feel how he shivers at each soft press of your blunt nails.

“Blame Len and Admiral Barnett.” 

“You call him that to his face?”

“Len?” You giggle when he rubs his stubble against your pulse and collarbones, just gently enough, the brush of hair tickles over your sensitive skin. “That’s his name, Jay! We can’t all call him Bones!”

“Baby, can we please stop talking about Admirals, Bones, and my nightmares?”

Your heart jolts at the sweet roughness in his tone as he calls you Baby.

“W-what do you want to talk about instead, Jay?”

“I don’t want to talk at all.”

When his lips meet yours, you sigh into the kiss. He tastes like rich chocolate and smokey bourbon, and you melt into his arms. The last time you kissed James Kirk, you were drunk. So you don’t remember what he felt like, how he sounded, what his mouth tasted like. Now it feels like you’re getting the full force of his attention, and it’s a heady sensation. His tongue slides languidly against yours, turning the soft, sweet kiss steamier and hotter. You pull away when you need to breathe, and you’re grinning goofily.

“What was that for, huh?” You sound breathless, too. His fingertips rub gentle circles against your back, warm against your skin where your shirt has rucked up.

“You look beautiful.”

You feel giddy, cheeks hot at the unexpected compliment. You kiss your thanks into the side of his head before untangling yourself from his embrace. You have the feeling you’ll need the distance for the next part of this conversation.

“But Jay, we need to talk about the night you left. I thought we had fun. But then you disappeared. I wanted to wake up and kiss you, curl into you in the early morning. Maybe have some sweet morning sex. Instead, I woke up to an empty, cold bed, feeling like a complete slut.”

He’s stammering, crawling forward on the sofa when you hold up your hand. His chest is warm and alive against your palm.

“I know, Jay. ‘m not a slut. But you have a reputation. You know you do. And I felt like I was falling for that reputation instead of the man I’ve come to adore.”

When you pull your hand away, he collapses onto you, smothering you with the weight of his body.

“Baby, you know I don’t think that about you. And that’s not why I left.” 

He presses a wet kiss against your collarbone, the gentle brush making you squirm a little. 

“I was a mess that night. I think I’ve been a mess since we returned to Earth, limping on a quarter-impulse all the way home.”

“Then, there was no time to process what happened. Everybody wanted a piece of the great Captain Kirk. When we were drunk off our asses that night, and we gave into the chemistry between us, it was the kick in the ass I needed. I realized I needed to sort my head out.”

You run your fingers through his hair again, relishing the way he almost seems to purr against your collarbone.

“So you ran.”

“So I ran.” 

“So where do we go from here?” You ask the question a little hesitantly, not sure if you’re going to like the answer you’re going to get.

“I think right now, sweetheart, we need to sleep. We can figure all of this out in the mornin’.” 

He's slurring the words, exhaustion in every syllable, until you can finally hear the Iowa in his voice. He's right. It's not a bad idea to have this conversation when cooler, more relational, heads will prevail. The two of you have time to kill, at least until this snowstorm passes you by and everything opens up again. You press a kiss against his lips, gentle and sweet, before letting him manhandle you until your head is pillowed against the arm of the sofa. You're pressed between Jim and the back of the sofa, legs intertwined and the throw laid over you both. The last thought you have before sleep takes over is how desperately you want to be able to kiss this man in daylight. No more clandestine shenanigans. No more hiding under the cover of night.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[midnightsnyx]

what if i told you (i love you) part 3 - joel miller

pairing: joel miller!fem reader

chapter summary: with Joel and Ellie still in Jackson, you try to navigate your confusing feelings towards Joel. warnings: small mentions of violence, angst, fluff, swearing I think. let me know if i missed anything please! also this isn't edited at all. if you know tlou and wanna beta this story, that would be lovely <3 word count: 3k masterlist series masterpost ask box tag list form

authors note: thought I abandoned this story? same. so it's been a hot minute, and I'm not sure if anyone is still interested in this story but it's been in the back of my mind and then 3k words poured out of me at work today. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I hope you like it anyways. I'll tag the people who asked, but I know it's been MONTHS so if you want to be removed from the tag list, send me a message and if you want to be added to the list, fill out this form. if you've got any questions, comments or thoughts, my ask box is here or just leave a comment in the notes:). thanks for reading, like & hit that reblog button if you enjoy it🩵

When Jack was first born, you went through a rough time. You were a new mom in a post-apocalyptic world and still trying to get over the betrayal you felt from Joel. You spent many nights at the kitchen table with Maria or Avery, crying or sitting in silence and feeling numb. The hardest nights were when you missed him, because that meant feeling weak and you hated letting yourself feel like you needed him. 

Your task of avoiding him during his stay in Jackson is becoming particularly difficult because of the duckling you seem to have acquired. Ellie trails after you nearly anywhere you and Jack go and Joel has no intention of letting Ellie out of his sight for longer than a few hours. A small part of you is jealous that he seems to see the girl as a daughter when he wouldn’t even accept Jack but you can’t blame her, so you let her tag along while pretending Joel isn’t always hovering in the background like a mother hen. During movie night, you seat Jack with Ellie and go stand in the back with the adults. Brad, one of the men around your age immediately comes over and tries to strike up a conversation with you. He’s nice enough, and not hard on the eyes but you never really let yourself make time for dating. You have your hands full with your kid so you just smile politely but entertain him, listening to him talk about going on patrol but tune him out when he begins bragging about taking out a pack of clickers. You know his story isn’t true because Avery was on the same patrol as him and told you when the clickers showed up, he hid while everyone else took care of it. 

At some point, you can feel a pair of eyes on you and immediately you know who it is without having to look. You’re trying to ignore it but his eyes feel like they’re burning a hole in your head so you turn to look and as you do, he quickly walks out of the building. You don’t know what comes over you, but you excuse yourself from your conversation with Brad and follow Joel outside. He didn’t go far, you find him leaning against the wall near the door a few feet away, arms crossed and deep in thought. It’s close to impossible to sneak up on him unless he’s feeling safe or is with someone he trusts. You’re apparently neither anymore because his head shoots up as soon as you get close.

He stares at you, mouth opening and closes a few times before he looks back at the ground and scuffing his boot in the dirt. You’ve no idea why you even followed him out here in the first place and after a few more seconds of silence, you start to head back inside but his voice stops you just as it did a few nights ago. He still has this invisible hold on you and you can’t understand why.

“Sarah,” he mumbles so quietly you wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t silent outside. “Her name was Sarah and she was my entire world and she’s gone.”

Tommy had admitted to you on one of your bad nights while he and Maria were trying to comfort you that Joel had lost a daughter. You’d put two and two together after Tommy made the memorial with Maria’s late son and the name Sarah who you knew was neither of theirs.

“Yeah,” you whisper, hating the ache in your chest you feel for him. You can’t imagine losing Jack but you don’t know if you can accept what he is insinuating. You can hear him walk towards you and you fight the urge to leave because as much as you don’t want to be around him, this is the first time he’s opened up to you. 

“I thought it’d be replacin’ her,” he mumbles and you realize he means Jack. That accepting another child would mean replacing his late daughter. 

You turn around to find him closer than you were expecting and take a step backwards, almost toppling backwards but his arms reach out and catch you. He doesn’t let go immediately, hands firm and steady gripping your arms exactly how you remember. For a moment, neither of you move. It’s as if you’re in a trance and it only breaks when the door flies open and Jack comes running out the door with Ellie chasing after him.

You pull away from Joel, picking up Jack when he reaches for you. 

“Mama! The movie’s over,” he says and then frowns. “You were gone.”

“I came out for some fresh air.”

He grumbles and tucks his face in the crook of your neck. “‘S cold,” 

You’re about to respond when Joel shrugs his thick brown jacket off and drapes it over Jack but it’s big enough that it covers you as well. 

You mumble a quiet thanks, ignoring the curious look Ellie gives you both and bid goodbye to the both of them, promising the girl that you would see her tomorrow. 

It was inevitable, you realize, sitting at the table listening to Jack tell Joel and Ellie a story you’d told him too often. 

“And-and then the Prince saved the Princess from a huge monster who’s teeth go click click click and then they went to Fred and Bob’s house for dinner!” 

You can feel Joel’s eyes on you the entire time Jack is telling them the story. He’s clearly piecing together that this isn’t just some made up story you told your son but a kid-friendly version of something that happened between you and Joel. It was shortly before you left Boston, Joel and yourself going to Bill and Franks for something. You’d been distracted because it was just after you found out you were pregnant and hadn’t told anyone yet and you turned your back for a split second while you were in the wrong place and nearly torn apart by a clicker. Joel had been furious, saying you needed to be more careful but he couldn’t have been that mad because after lecturing you for ten minutes, he’d pinned you against a tree and kissed you until you couldn’t remember your name.

It was one of the last times he had kissed you before you told him you were pregnant and then left Boston. 

“Quite a story,” Joel says, looking at Jack who proudly smiles at the older man's comment. “Does the Princess have a name?”

Jack gives you a curious look and when you don’t say anything, he shrugs and looks back at Joel.

“Mama never said.” 

Ellie snickers quietly, obviously also realizing that the story is based on actual events. Joel gives her a look but she doesn’t back down despite his glare. She leans towards Jack and grins. 

“Do you have any more stories about the Prince and Princess?” 

Simultaneously, you and Joel both say “no” a little too loudly which earns the two of you some looks. 

“I think it’s time for someone to go to school,” you say, standing up and offering your hand to Jack who grumbles but climbs off his chair and requests to be picked up by you rather than walk. You know you’re probably babying him but he’s growing too quick and soon he won’t want to be carried around by his mom so you’re cherishing every moment. 

You chance a look at Joel before you leave and he’s wearing the softest expression you’ve probably ever seen on him and it makes your stomach do somersaults and cheeks warm. It’s probably a bad idea, no it’s definitely a bad idea but when it comes to Joel Miller, you always made bad choices. 

“You guys can walk with us if you’d like,” you say and Ellie is out of her chair before you even finish the sentence. Joel looks a little more hesitant but he still doesn’t like going far without the girl in his sight so he follows the three of you outside. 

Of course by the time you get to the small school Jackson has, Jack is more than happy to go in and play with his friends. He gives you, Ellie, and a startled Joel hugs before running inside without looking back. You’re grateful that you have a place here where Jack can have as close to a normal childhood one can have in this world. You can’t imagine if you’d stayed in Boston what kind of upbringing he would’ve had. You certainly don’t miss it there, aside from the nights you missed Joel which were far and few in between up until he showed up here. The reason he’s here is still unclear although you have a suspicion Tommy knows more than what he’s told you and even Maria. The length of Joel and Ellie’s stay is also not known. You were expecting them to just need to stop and get supplies before continuing their journey but they’re still here and you have no idea when they’ll be leaving.   

You’re not sure what possessed you to invite Joel and Ellie to your little house for dinner but here you are, chopping vegetables to make soup. Jack is still at school and the soup will take time to cook but Ellie insisted on helping you prepare it and Joel said he needed to go see Tommy. It’s kind of nice to have company even if it’s in the form of a fourteen year old. Said fourteen year old has been awfully quiet the past twenty minutes and you can tell she’s wanting to ask you something but is stopping herself. 

“Go ahead,” you eventually say, tired of her silence. 

“Joel is Jack’s dad, isn’t he?” 

You’re so tempted to say no, only for the fact that she obviously looks up to Joel and you don’t know who she would look at as the bad guy. And honestly is the best policy, right?

“Yeah,” you tell her, noticing when her shoulders deflate. 

She’s quiet for another five minutes before asking, “Did Joel tell you to leave?”

You’re quick to answer this question because as wrong as what Joel did was, it was your decision to leave Boston and you don’t want to put some wedge between them.

“No, I left because I wanted a better life for Jack.” It’s not a complete lie, Joel is part of why you left but you really did want a better life for your son than what he would’ve had in Boston. 

“Alright,” she eventually says and then: “Can you pass me another carrot?” 

And that’s that. You both chat about random things, she tells you some terrible puns and you buckle and reluctantly tell her some more stories of when you, Joel and Tess lived in Boston. She tells you that Joel won’t talk about Tess and she feels guilty about her death. You listen quietly, letting her spill out things she must have been holding in knowing Joel didn’t want to hear it. 

“I knew Tess really well,” you tell her. “She wouldn’t have done what she did if she didn’t think it was worth it.” 

Ellie looks at you hesitantly. “Yeah?”

You nod and she smiles a little before asking if she can come with you to pick up Jack, but you tell her that Avery is going to pick him up and drop him here. Since you’ve got some quiet time, you decide to do some cleaning while Ellie goes to the house she and Joel have been staying at to take a shower. 

It’s a couple hours later when there’s a knock on your door and you’re figuring it’s Avery with Jack so when you open the door, you almost drop the broom you’re holding when you see Joel standing in front of you and Jack in his arms. You start to ask why Joel has Jack and where Avery is when you see the woman in question standing at the bottom of the stairs with a sheepish smile on her face. 

“We, uh, ran into Mr. Miller on our way here and Jack insisted that he come with us,” she explains but you can’t stop looking at the duo in front of you. Jack is smiling, arms wrapped around Joel’s neck and telling him a story but Joel is watching you warily, like he’s expecting you to yell or something.

“Hi mama,” Jack says but makes no move to leave Joel’s arms. In fact, he looks very pleased that the older man is carrying him. 

“Hi baby,” you reply, unsure what to do. You don’t want to upset Jack by taking him from Joel but you can’t tell if the latter is uncomfortable. Avery, sensing the tension, smiles brightly and waves awkwardly.

“I gotta go feed Lucy,” she says, already walking backwards. “See ya, Jack!”

Jack shouts goodbye to Avery and you finally snap out of your stupor, stepping back to let Joel walk inside. He toes off his boots and you’re about to offer to take his jacket when you realize he’s not wearing one because you never gave him it back last night. 

“Dinner smells good,” he says, following you to the living room where Jack finally wriggles out of Joel’s arms but only to get a toy to show him. 

“Look Mr. Miller,” the boy says, offering a wooden train that you gave him for his birthday. An older gentleman in the town made it for you after hearing Jack talking about how much he loved looking at pictures of trains. 

“That’s a really nice train,” Joel compliments, sitting down on the couch. Jack immediately climbs up and settles down next to him, chatting about the toy and you watch as Joel listens intently, nodding at the right times and you remember that he’s done this before, it may have been twenty years ago, but he’s dealt with an excited almost five-year-old.

The front door opening and closing tears your attention away from them and you look to find Ellie walking towards you, shrugging off her jacket. She lays it on the rocking chair and then plops down next to Jack, shooting you a small smile. There’s something in her expression that is sadder than when she left and you wonder if something happened since she left but you don’t bother asking her now. Instead, you go set the table and check the soup to make sure it’s done before calling everyone to the kitchen. Jack makes sure his chair is as close to Joel’s as he can get it so he can keep talking to him.

You have heavily conflicted feelings about the relationship growing between them. On one hand, it’s kind of nice that Jack is getting to know his dad, even if he doesn’t know Joel is his father. On the other hand, if you let Jack get too attached to Joel, it’ll break his heart when he and Ellie leave. So, you decide tonight after Jack is gone to bed and Ellie goes home, you’ll sit Joel down and ask him why he’s here and when he’s leaving.

Of course that doesn’t happen because Ellie and Jack pass out on the sofa after reading every children's book you own and you and Joel end up sitting at the table, drinking some liquor Maria had given you that you never got around to drinking. You’re not drunk, but you’re tipsy enough that you feel relaxed around Joel and laugh at whatever he’s saying. It almost feels like Boston, when the days were so long and dark that all you wanted to do was sit and drink with him and eventually wind up in bed together. 

Except now, you’ve got two kids who are sleeping in the living room and no intention of going to bed with him. Well, maybe if you let yourself have a few more glasses and if there weren’t kids in the other room but that’s just the alcohol in your system making you think things you shouldn’t.

“Do you remember when Frank asked how long we’d been dating?” He asks and you snort at the memory. You didn’t know at the time why Frank would even think that since you and Joel had been bickering the entire time you were at dinner, and Tess had to tell the two of you to knock it off multiple times. She had choked on her water when you asked why Frank thought you were dating and he said that it was because the two of you reminded him of Bill and himself.  

“Yeah, Tess nearly choked because she was laughing when we simultaneously shouted no and then Bill caught us making out behind his house,” you say, smiling behind a sip of your drink. He doesn’t react to you saying Tess’s name and just shakes his head with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He tilts his head a little so he’s looking at you and not the ceiling. 

“If I thought it covered the pain I caused you, I’d say sorry,” he says quietly and a little broken. 

You look away, swallowing loudly. “Well, sorry would be a start.” 

You don’t say that you’re not sure if you can forgive him, even if he did say sorry. Even if he knelt in front of you and begged, you’re not sure if you could push past the last five years. Every night you spent sobbing into your pillow in Boston while you waited for him to come back after you told him you were pregnant. Every bad night you had here in Jackson, thinking of why he did it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers softly, like it’s a secret. 

Blinking back tears, you clear your throat and nod. “Thank you.” 

Thank you but I can’t forgive you, goes unsaid. But a little voice in the back of your mind whispers, I can't forgive you yet and you can’t help but believe it a little bit.

tag list: @sloanexx @wandering-poetess @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @chiogarza @jellybeanxc @iranispunk @imonmykneessir @wakaladjarin @sleepylunarwolf @pedropascalfan221 @abovenyx @starjoyyy @shuriri4life @cavillary @absolukeyrh @uwiuwi @keileighr @whitemanshoe19 @mishasminion360 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @praline357 if you wanna be removed, please let me know <3 i know it's been awhile!!

[kawaiibarty]

the phantom's game

wow okay, this fic has A LOT of lore. if you don't want to read a fic with a plot full of Plot and Slow Burn then this isn't the fic for you. alternatively, if you're looking for a fic that reads like it should be shoved in the recesses of a dingy library then this might be the fic for you?

masterlist

the fic:

the phantom's game will be incredibly slow in the beginning because it's basically remus just getting his footing in the world of literature and it's building up to the main plot.

this fic will also be written in three parts (but it will be put all together as one fic in case you want to download it or whatever, it also makes reading easier i think) or at least that's the aim. it may end up being more than three (maybe four MAYBE) and the word count aim is around 100k to 120k words. ideally the fic was to have around 40/50 chapters but as of now im really uncertain about the length (even though i know how it ends lol) because, and im such a nerd for this, but i ended up doing some math about fic chapter length compared to the original work and so far ive gathered that for every 1 chapter in the original work i have 2 chapters for my fic and an additional 1.5k words. it took me forever to work that out please clap. counting words in a book is hard.

and also

i feel like it's a testament to the dedication im putting into this fic 😔

the point of view might change from third to first person after part one, which may be a bit confusing so im putting a pin in this idea for now as im not even close to part two (let me know what you think about this!)

characters/relationships

this fic is written from the perspective of remus lupin and the main pairing is wolfstar (remus/sirius). main characters are remus, leo ferox (from the fanfiction all the young dudes), and sirius black. other characters are barty crouch jr, lily evans and her father who is an oc; maurice evans and other characters will be added as i write because i cba to actually flesh it out rn (and also i dont want to spoil). there are also minor relationships that are discussed.

trigger warnings/content warnings:

there are quite a few things that happen in this fic that id like to forewarn you of should you decide to read it. there are discussions of abusive parents, substance abuse and violence. in one of the chapters there will be some dubious consent, drugging, there will be descriptions of murder and violence as well as discussions around mental illness and homophobia. discussions/mentions of suicide!!!!

i will be adding on as the fic goes because i know there is stuff that ive missed.

why am i doing this???

i largely wrote this fic because i got high on meds and some other stuff it was wacko and i had absolutely nothing to do. id completely given up in trying to recover my old zombie apocalypse fic (it's a long story) and i really wanted something that i was familiar with not just because i liked the complex and the idea but because i knew it. iykwim?

it's based on a book i read when i was fifteen that got me out of the second largest reading slump in my life and basically catapulted me into the genre of fantasy realism and the whole dark/chaotic academia scene. i also decided that i would continue writing it after my beta @thestrawberryapologist showed interest in it.

another reason why i continued it rather than trying to piece together a nonexistent zombie apocalypse fic was because i have recommended this book COUNTLESS times but it seems no one i recommended it to seemed to like it.

so this is me saying, very passive aggressively, that the plot IS GOOD :(

i smashed the original book in like 2 days and ive been thinking about it for four years straight. i haven't even gotten to reading the other parts of the series because im still hooked on how THIS specific one was written.

its also a really fun (and for me) a new look into the characters because ive really never written anything this detailed before. the plot is a rollercoaster and you HAVE to stay on your toes with the the original work and i would really really like to reflect that onto my writing.

this is also the first time since i was 15/16 that ive properly attempted anything full length with the means to actually finish it off.

when is it going to be finished?

that's a good question. and one i don't know the answer to. it took me 2 months to get to chapter 4 so... it may take a year or two or 6 months dude but it's gonna be long and it's gonna be full

please don't be shy to ask me about it (though that doesn't mean im inclined to spoil it — which i won't!)

[rockinlibrarian]

My Current (again) Hyperfixation: The Legion Soundtrack

I read like three posts in a row-- and left an encouraging comment on one saying much the same thing-- saying GEEK OUT OVER WHAT YOU WANT TO GEEK OUT OVER UNABASHEDLY, PUT THAT LOVE IN THE WORLD EVEN IF ONLY YOU APPRECIATE IT-- just as "David Redux" was playing on my computer. Again. Because I have been hyperfixating on the Legion soundtrack for the past two-ish weeks and playing my playlist on repeat. In this case it was actually just part of my "Psychedelic and Prog Rock" playlist because I've been trying to branch out, but still, I feel the need to gush, but I've been RESTRAINING MYSELF BECAUSE WHO REALLY CARES... but this is a sign, isn't it? So allow me...

*ahem* Those of you who have been following me for any amount of time are probably aware that I'm a fan of the FX show from 2017-2019, Legion, a highly-mindtrippy, oft-problematic, X-Men spinoff about mentally-ill superpowered folks, for which I have written the vast majority of my fanfic. I first checked it out because showrunner Noah Hawley (whose Fargo I'd loved) crossed with the X-Men?! I stayed around because PSYCHEDELIC TRIPPINESS. Which includes the soundtrack. And honestly, maybe it's the soundtrack I love most of all.

There are two, possibly three, parts here. The needle-drops are A-PLUS, perfectly used in the storytelling, and just generally good songs, most of the time (yeah, a few I don't like. But then, sometimes that's what you need to tell the story). A lot of them are genuinely psychedelic or at least prog-rock, but even the ones that aren't are USED psychedelically: ironic in tone, simply capturing an odd fleeting emotional state, whatever. There are some well-known songs like "Speak To Me/Breathe" (more about the Pink Floyd connection in a bit), and a lot of rarer songs from lesser-known artists that I am ETERNALLY GRATEFUL to music supervisor Maggie Phillips for introducing me to. I ended up buying albums from The Beta Band and Secret Machines because of songs used in this show.

I feel like a lot of people had this reaction when "Undiscovered Firsts" by Feist played in Chapter Four of Legion, but this is one I immediately tracked down to purchase, like, after that episode. It might have been later than that. But it's definitely the first Legion-prompted music I purchased at SOME point:

Yeah, looking at the comment section of that youtube video, it's pretty much all "Legion sent me here!"

But the needle-drop I've been most obsessed with during this current binge is Radiohead's "The Daily Mail":

It is constantly in my head and I don't mind at all. It captures my underlying emotions lately (and I didn't even realize this until rewatching Chapter Five with closed-captions-- rewatching the show is another way I've tried to branch out from JUST relistening to my playlist over and over-- but the lyrics are eerily timely, too). It builds, and then it's over too soon, and I feel the need to start it from the beginning.

Here's a Spotify playlist I used for reference when building my own collection:

There are two three reasons I made my own playlist on my own computer out of my own collection. Probably the most important one that just occurred to me is because then I'm not reliant on Spotify. I own this music dangit! I can listen without commercials or supporting shady streaming services! Anyway, another is because there are a few songs on here I WOULD rather not listen to, thanks, why should I force myself? Thirdly, and originally most importantly before I remembered the "not reliant on Spotify" thing, is it only includes "songs," not OST instrumental background music, which is necessary!

I mean listen to this:

That's basically the main musical theme of the series and sums up what it's all like and is also gorgeous.

Score writer Jeff Russo has stated many times in interviews that Pink Floyd is one of his biggest influences in general, and that he specifically leaned into that influence in the music for Legion. Well, whaddya know, my second-favorite band!--and for that matter, there's Beatles influence in there, too. Actually in the comments of the link I put to "David Redux" above, somebody said "This is literally I Want You(She’s so heavy) like just straight up that song." ...yeah so? No seriously it's not JUST straight up "I Want You (She's So Heavy)," but the influence is clearly there. There are definite bits of the score you can point to and say "Ah! Pink Floyd!" about, too, but mostly it's less blatant. But still-- the FEELING is there, that eerie, dreamy, sometimes disturbing feeling.

--Slight tangent about Pink Floyd and psychedelic music in general. It CAN be disturbing, and that's the POINT. It shakes you out of your comfort zone. Now, when I was a teenager and first getting into "Classic Rock," I HATED Pink Floyd. Not just meh, not just didn't care for, ACTIVELY HATED. And I was like, "Yeah, sorry, no way this is EVER going to grow on me." And I don't think it ever DID grow on me-- it just immediately flipped a switch-- from UTTER LOATHING to me buying a copy of Wish You Were Here at the used CD store and thinking, in that moment, oh darn, I think Pink Floyd has suddenly become my second-favorite band. Now, I wrote a whole long thing about my feelings about psychedelic music about 2/3s of the way into this article, so I'll leave you with the link and get back to the Legion soundtrack.

The Floyd influence extends across ALL of Legion, actually, not just the background music. The show's heroine is named after founding Floyd member Syd Barrett (who, notably for purposes of this show, had quit the band due to mental illness). I already mentioned the "Speak to Me/Breathe" needle-drop, and in Season Three there was a literal performance of "Mother":

Admittedly, I have the original Floyd track on my playlist, not this performance.

But that brings us to the third part of the Legion music story: a lot of songs actually PERFORMED for the show. Often IN the show. Usually by the characters themselves, though once the band Superorganism actually appeared in the show to accost one of the characters with a performance of their song "Something for Your M.I.N.D.":

In what is one of my favorite episodes of television ever, Chapter Seven (which when I opened up IMDB just now to make sure I was spelling Maggie Phillips' last name correctly, I noticed is ranked as the top episode there, 9.3 stars out of 10), Oliver Bird (whom you've probably heard me mention because he's one of my favorite characters ever--my third-favorite in this show only because the Loudermilks exist) conducts/wills into existence an eerie arrangement of "Bolero" that scores the frickin' amazing climax of the episode (cw for some creepy body horror and a bit o' gore if you watch this whole video):

Oh oh oh the most amazing thing I've ever seen on TV is this mind-battle of "Behind Blue Eyes" from Chapter 19:

But we were talking about the MUSIC, not so much the SHOW, and one of the other aspects of Performed for the Show is a whole series of covers Russo and showrunner Hawley recorded together as, technically, needle-drops, but often incorporating themes from the score, like the intro to their "Cornflake Girl":

This makes for really unique covers that sometimes sound completely unlike the originals but actually are really friggin' good in and of themselves. I think my favorite is their "Fly Like an Eagle" which is WAY un-Steve-Miller-Band:

Note that the intro is blatantly the intro to Pink Floyd's "Echoes"!

Which is how I managed to branch out to my full "Psych and Prog Rock" playlist in the end-- "ooo, I really want to listen to 'Echoes' now"!

OKAY. RIGHT. So if anybody else gets hyperfixated on psychedelic music, let me know, because it's such a weird thing to hyperfixate on. But never mind. I HAVE NOW SHARED WITH YOU SOME AWESOMENESS. LISTEN WELL.