#...and the only one to have actually killed

[that-one-girl2020]

Role Reversal!

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: Honestly? Might make this into another short series when I’m done with a few other things. I haven’t seen a role reversal fic yet but let me know if there is actually one out there! You don’t need to read the original series I based it on but I encourage you to do it because I think I did good on it!

Comment name ideas for the fire dog and three legged crow!

TW: Mentions of death, discrimination, toxic parental figures (not just Celine this time), insecurity, etc.

Word Count: 1,592

Master List

• You and Rumi were born as twin sisters several centuries ago.

• You and Rumi were raised by your Aunt since both your parents were killed shortly after your birth. Your mother was a human and your father was a demon. You both were scorned by your village for being born as half demons, your Aunt being the worst offender.

• Rumi and you enjoyed singing and dancing together out under the moon, in a clearing that none of the village knew about.

• Rumi wanted to be rid of her patterns so she could sing before others without being treated as a monster, so she made a deal with Gwi Ma.

• Gwi Ma agreed and glamoured your sister’s demonic pattern for a time. Rumi happily left the village and you behind to follow her dream of singing and being a performer.

• You were heartbroken to be left behind in the village that hated you, your demon pattern creeping further and making you begin scratching at them anxiously

• Just wanting to be safe and loved, you wished for your patterns to disappear so you could find someone to love you. Gwi Ma answered.

• You left the village too, traveling in search of someone that would accept and love you.

• You ended up falling in love with a Hunter. A man with a golden voice.

~ His name was Haon (can mean ‘great and kind’) and he did love you. You wanted to tell him about your demon patterns, often scratching as if you could feel them crawling beneath your skin, beneath the glamour Gwi Ma had put on you. But he was a Hunter.

~ You didn’t tell him, you didn’t get the chance before your patterns began showing up again, spreading faster than they ever had before.

~ Haon’s fellow Hunters, even though you avoided them as best you could, found out about you and saw your patterns. They told Haon and the male Hunters went to kill you. The patterns completed and Gwi Ma summoned you to his realm before Haon could strike you down.

~ The last thing you remembered was Haon’s teary eyes as he raised his sword.

• Rumi and you reunited in the demon realm but your relationship was much more distant.

• Rumi acted as if she hadn’t left you behind for her own dreams and you remained in her vicinity because she was the only offer of comfort you had there.

• For centuries, you mourned Haon and the fact that no one would ever love you for you, never accept you.

• Mira grew up with two harsh parents who were disappointed in not having a son. So they prepared her to be married since she was young but she was too wild and rebelled.

~ Mira asked Gwi Ma to help her escape her parent’s expectations. He agreed. Her parents died not long after.

• Zoey was born to an interracial couple, which was not accepted at the time. Her parents couldn’t handle the contempt and separated but they fought over who would raise Zoey as a neurodivergent girl when the term hadn’t even been invented yet.

~ Feeling like too much and yet not enough at the same time, she accepted Gwi Ma’s help in finding a way to express herself by becoming a poet and lyricist. She chose neither of her parents and ran away.

• Modern times come around.

• The Saja Boys had trained and finally debuted several years ago, quickly growing in popularity until they topped the charts.

• They named themselves the Saja Boys due to both the lion motif, but also in irony. Saja also references the grim reapers of Korean folklore, thinking of it as them coming to reap the demons.

• Jinu came from a poor family in a small village, he ran away from his family when he was young to sing in the city streets, abandoning them.

~ Scouted by the Hunters, he claimed his family was dead.

~ When he was older, he started sending money back to his family anonymously once he debuted but it was too late as his mother died from overworking herself.

~ His weapon is a broadsword.

~ He has a cat that he named Derpy and a magpie named Sussie. He made a hat for Derpy once but Sussie stole it. Now his fans make hats for the two and give them to him.

~ He has a whole social media page dedicated to the two.

• Kwan, stage name Abby, was an underground dancer when he was young with a small group. he was attracted to the stage, but was sure his appearance wasn’t fit for being a performer. Then he was scouted by the Hunters.

~ His weapon is a battle axe.

• Chungae, stage name Romance, grew up with his relatives after his parents died. They didn’t care for Chungae much, focusing on their own children and their matchmaking business. Chungae felt invisible and used visual art to express himself, posting online and feeling better the more likes he got. He was scouted by the Hunters.

~ His weapons are a pair of fans.

• Hyeon, stage name Mystery, was often hounded for his pretty face, which made him dislike spending time with people. He turned to gaming and staying home but his parents got him various modeling gigs. He was scouted for his looks by the Hunters.

~ But he became skilled in music production and ended up covering most of his face with his bangs.

~ His weapon is a whip.

• Jum, stage name Baby, made his name, originally in underground rapping circles. Despite his soft, youthful features, Jum had a rich, deeper voice and a killer rap style which got him scouted by the Hunters.

~ He chose his stage name out of irony because he knew the industry would have a certain view of him as the maknae and with the soft features he has.

~ He’s bitter because he believes that no one will take his lyrics and overall self as a person seriously with his soft face.

~ His weapons are shurikens.

• Jinu is the main vocals, Kwan is the main dancer, Jum the rapper, Chungae the visualist (he deals with visuals and their wardrobe), and Hyeon is the main producer.

• One of their songs would probably be ‘Blood, Sweat, Tears’ by BTS.

• Rumi presents the idea of a demon girl group to steal the Saja Boys’ fans before they can seal the golden Honmoon.

~ She pretends she didn’t leave you behind because otherwise, the guilt and shame would consume her whole.

• In return for doing this for Gwi Ma, she requests that she be allowed to remain in the human realm, trying to escape her demon side.

• You haven’t sung in centuries and you feel bitter about using something you love to help Gwi Ma consume innocent souls.

• You have a fire dog (bulgae) that looks like a regular dog but with glowing amber eyes and will spew fire every now and then. You also have a three legged crow that can create complex illusions.

• You girls go with the name Huntr/x to return the irony that the boys created when they chose Saja as their name. The hunted will become the hunters and all that.

• Your debut song was probably ‘The Baddest’ by K/DA

• I headcanon that demon Huntr/x would basically be K/DA

• After the equivalent of the bathhouse battle, Gwi Ma sensed that the boys had strong shame and greed, just a little push away from falling into his grasp.

• You and the girls split the boys between you with Rumi getting Jinu, Mira getting Kwan and Chungae, Zoey getting Hyeon, and you getting Jum.

~ You kinda ended up taking on all of them because the girls were raging bisexuals for each other.

• You betray all the boys, unwillingly, using their weaknesses and fears.

~ Jinu abandoning his family.

~ Kwan’s insecurity over his rough appearance.

~ Chungae’s need for love and attention.

~ Hyeon’s fear that no one will see him beyond his outer beauty.

~ Jum’s belief that no one will ever take him seriously.

• The demon Huntr/x version of ‘Your Idol’ would definitely be ‘Villain’ by K/DA. It’s perfect.

• You and the girls perform in your demon forms.

~ Nine-tailed foxes, or Gumiho. Specifically the Korean version of nine-tailed foxes, I feel like it fits really well as all the girls, in some way, are trying to become more human or accepted among humans or, in your case, looking for love.

~ Quick Google it, I swear it’s perfect.

• The boys all come, whether they were mixed into the crowd or came from their brooding thought sessions, they all come.

• They sing their version of ‘What It Sounds Like,’ I’m not sure what it would be, maybe ‘Life Goes On’ by BTS or something…?

• The boys know that you don’t believe anyone could ever love you for you, could ever accept you.

• Even in your human form, you and Rumi still have your patterns, just hers are iridescent like the end of the movie and yours is a light purple, a side effect of being half-human, half-demon and then making a deal with Gwi Ma.

~ Along with the whispers in your heads, the patterns are a reminder of your shame and insecurities that you can’t escape from.

• They came to save you.

• You give them your soul to save Jinu and Jum when they were almost overwhelmed by Gwi Ma’s power while Kwan, Hyeon, and Chungae fought Rumi, Mira, and Zoey.

• Rumi, Mira, and Zoey, in their grief, are defeated by the boys but their souls are given to the boys as well.

Outtakes:

You: *Walking down the alley in slow motion, hearts glowing around you as you dramatically flip your hair*

The Saja Boys: *Having their Kdrama moment*

…

You: “How did you get to this point…?”

Jinu: *Looking around the room that had been converted into a closet for Sussie and Derpy’s hats* “… I honestly have no idea.”

…

You: “I am unlovable. No one will ever accept me for who I am.”

The Saja Boys: *Currently looking for Haon’s gravestone in the Hunters’ cemetery*

…

Tag List: @brights-place @itmechaosartist @reni502 @chin-chii @cultish-corner @enerofairy @mama-m1na @akariis4snowball @gremlinartstudio @shynotded @shadowmoonlight0604 @omgsuperstarg @neigesprincess @sleep-7372 @hurts-my-brain @kiwibackie @gh0stied3ath @naysha140 @theferretkids @lelantyuu @sexyindependentdowntospendit @hornehlittleweeblet2 @moonymoo1 @moochiwoochi @cheolright @crescent-z @prorpy @mey-archive @cami1qx @nerdalicios @xxsadlovexx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @blackheart34 @anonymousewrites @scarletrosesposts @justanindiangirl12 @beexboo @tatsuri-zomushiki @call-me-nyxx @queenofviolenceandnerds @randomfan218-blog @jaybbygrl @unholycheesesnack @ocean-mochi @iviorienne @confusedparticle @otakusimp1 @nosbaby07 @fries11 @ri-eveowe @1950schick @libdarkheart @yourjustassaneasiamx @the-bookish-artist @anduinandwrathionlover @eternallyrosyfire @lysira340 @lansy-4 @strayharmony943 @maximumtrashchild @bleufu1 @minepugs @valeriele3 @arieslucy @nisarelle @suzieq1948374 @esposamultifandom

[maskedbyghost]

In Sickness, In Health, In Surveillance (1)

Synopsis: To spy on a dangerous neighbor, you and Simon have to pretend you’re married, even though you’re constantly at each other’s throats. The longer you fake it, the harder it gets to keep your distance.

Tags/CW: slow burn, fake marriage, undercover mission, forced proximity, invasion of privacy, mild violence, explicit sexual content

Masterlist

“Absolutely not.”

You didn’t even wait a second before turning your head sharply, scoffing loud enough for it to be counted as an official protest, and throwing yourself back into the chair like you were already exhausted by the conversation, even though it had barely started.

Your arms crossed hard over your chest and you didn’t bother hiding the way you glared across the table, the annoyance already creeping under your skin and settling in for what was clearly going to be a long, miserable briefing.

“Oh, perfect,” you muttered, voice louder than necessary. “We’re not even on the damn mission yet and I already wanna throw something at your face.”

Across from you, Simon didn’t react much, but the twitch in his jaw was a good enough sign that he was also seconds away from losing his patience, which really wasn’t anything new considering the two of you had never actually worked together without ending up in some shouting match or standoff that someone else had to awkwardly step into and separate before you either killed each other or ended up breaking government property.

“Both of you, shut it,” Price said, already pinching the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh that told you he probably knew exactly how this would go and still signed off on it anyway.

You were halfway to standing up, already planning to walk right out and tell whoever assigned this shit that they could pair Simon up with a brick wall for all you cared, when Price slid a folder across the table and tapped it once, hard enough to make you stop.

You didn’t sit back down, but you paused long enough to glance down at the name printed on the top of the first page and the blurry surveillance photo clipped to the corner, a photo that really didn’t look like much until you noticed the faint smirk on the guy’s face and the fact that Price didn’t seem even a little amused by it.

“Mark Delaney,” he started. “On paper he’s clean. Got a solid job in international logistics, runs a ‘green’ import-export company, donates to animal shelters, married to some yoga instructor. He’s charming, polite, and doesn’t raise alarms.”

You finally sat back down, still tense, but listening now. Simon glanced at the photo and stayed quiet.

“The thing is,” Price went on, flipping the page to a second sheet filled with red flags and classified notes, “Delaney isn’t as squeaky clean as he wants us to believe. His company’s been flagged three times in the last year for inconsistencies in shipping records, and not just minor ones. Entire containers marked as farm equipment went off-grid for days at a time, only to reappear somewhere completely different, usually near facilities we’ve flagged for biochemical research.”

You frowned, reading over the brief line about a missing cargo load in Romania and another one that disappeared overland in France. It was vague, but not vague enough to ignore.

“You think he’s smuggling weapons,” Simon said flatly, already sounding done with it all.

“We know he is,” Price corrected. “We just can’t prove it. Every lead we’ve chased has either vanished or doubled back and led us nowhere. He’s careful, too careful. We’ve got reason to believe he’s got someone on the inside feeding him intel on our moves. So every time we get close, he goes quiet.”

You stared at the pages, slowly putting the pieces together. “So you need someone on the inside.”

Price nodded. “Exactly. And not just anyone. Neighbors. Friends. People he’ll invite over for drinks and barbecues. Someone close enough to keep eyes on the house without raising suspicion. And the only thing this guy seems to trust is what appears to be stability. Family. He’s not letting anyone in unless they tick those boxes.”

“And that’s where we come in,” Simon said, sounding more annoyed by the second.

“Right,” Price confirmed, flipping the final page and sliding over a rough sketch of a cute little two-bedroom house on a quiet street lined with trees and white fences and all the usual cozy, innocent crap people with secrets seem to flock to. “New neighborhood just outside the city. House next door to Delaney’s is conveniently up for rent. Your covers are clean. Married couple, moved in for a change of pace, looking to settle down. You’ll be posing as the Rileys. Cute, normal, boring as hell. You’ll shop at the local market, wave at the mailman, say good morning to Mrs. Jenkins three doors down. The whole thing.”

You blinked at him. “You’re insane.”

Simon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “No way I’m pretending to be married to her.”

“Oh shut up, like I’m thrilled about this either,” you snapped, already feeling your voice climbing. “We can’t even get through five minutes without arguing and you think we’re going to pull off playing house in front of a damn target?”

Simon didn’t back down. “You’re the one who almost blew that job in Berlin because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“And you’re the one who got shot last year because you don’t listen to anyone who isn’t you!”

“Enough,” Price cut in, voice sharp now. “You two are professionals. Or at least you’re supposed to be. So start acting like it.”

You opened your mouth again but stopped when you saw the way he was looking at you, not in the mood to entertain the two of you going back and forth all day.

“This is the job,” he said. “It’s not optional. We’ve burned every other angle, and this is our last clean shot at getting close to Delaney without tipping him off. You’re both good at what you do. You’re just shit at working together. So guess what? You’re gonna have to figure that out.”

You leaned back again, crossing your arms and staring at the ceiling, trying to keep yourself from saying something that’d get you pulled from the task force entirely.

Simon didn’t say anything for a minute. Just shifted in his seat and exhaled hard through his nose before muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “this is bullshit.”

Price ignored that.

“You’ll get the rest of the files tomorrow,” he said, standing up and already halfway done with this conversation. “Get your heads on straight. Because next week, you’re moving in.”

A few hours later, you were on your way to make tea. One cup of tea before bed to maybe convince your brain to calm down for more than five minutes so you could sleep without dreaming about living in some fake little suburb next to a guy who probably murdered people on his lunch breaks.

But no, the universe hated you. Because as soon as you pushed open the heavy kitchen door and stepped into the room, the first thing you saw was Simon standing by the counter, facing the kettle.

It hadn’t even started boiling yet, but the switch was already down and steam was starting to curl out of the top. His back was to you, he hadn’t turned around, but you knew he knew you were there.

You sighed, not even bothering to be quiet about it, and stepped inside anyway. The door clicked shut behind you, louder than it needed to be. You crossed the room without a word, opened the cabinet with way too much force, and grabbed the chipped mug you always used when you stayed overnight on base. The one with the handle that was just slightly cracked but hadn’t fallen off yet. You didn’t even know why you still bothered using it.

“Gonna be long week,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed a teabag from the box and dropped it into the mug.

Simon didn’t say anything. Just reached for the kettle and poured hot water into his own cup before setting it back on the base.

You turned your head. “Are you planning on sharing, or is the water yours too?”

He finally looked at you, completely unimpressed. “It’s a kettle. Fill it again.”

You blinked at him slowly. “You boiled half a cup.”

“I only needed half.”

You stared at him for a full second before turning to the sink and refilling the kettle yourself, slamming it back into place with a little more force than necessary and flipping the switch.

You stood there in silence, the hum of the kettle building again, both of you pretending to be too focused on your mugs to acknowledge the absolute nightmare this week was going to be.

“I still don’t get why it has to be us,” you said after a minute, without looking at him. “Out of everyone. There are other people who don’t actively want to kill each other.”

Simon stirred his tea slowly and didn’t answer. Which was already annoying. But then he said, “Because we’re both good at pretending.”

You laughed once, no humor. “You think you’re charming enough to sell the happy husband act?”

“I think I’m quiet enough not to blow our cover in the first five minutes.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you snapped, turning fully to face him now. “You’re the reason our last mission went to shit. Don’t pretend like that was on me.”

His jaw clenched. “I didn’t see you volunteering to fix it.”

“I was fixing it until you decided to go all lone-wolf and ignore every part of the plan.”

“You were panicking.”

“I was adapting,” you said, stepping forward now, hands still wrapped around your empty mug, your voice getting louder. “You know, the thing you’re supposed to do when the situation changes? Not just wander off and make things worse?”

He looked down at you like you were a headache. “You talk too much.”

“You don’t talk enough,” you shot back. “Which would be fine if we weren’t supposed to be living together, pretending to be married, pretending we actually like each other. You think that’s gonna work if you just grunt at me every time I open my mouth?”

“If you open your mouth less,” he said, taking a slow sip of his tea, “I might not have to.”

You stared at him for a long moment, every muscle in your face twitching with the effort of not throwing your mug across the room.

You turned back to the counter instead, fingers gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles ached, because you knew if you said one more thing, it wouldn’t end in words. And Price had already made it very clear this assignment was happening whether you liked it or not, so the last thing you needed was to start it with a disciplinary report for slapping your fake husband in a government-owned kitchen.

The kettle clicked off.

You poured the water, dropped the bag in, and stood there in complete silence, the steam rising up in front of your face while your entire body burned with the need to scream. Behind you, Simon didn’t move. He finished his tea, already done with the conversation and nothing else to add, which somehow pissed you off even more than if he’d stayed and kept going.

You didn’t turn around when he left.

The door creaked open, then shut again, and suddenly the room felt twice as empty and twice as suffocating.

You picked up your mug, sipped, burned your tongue immediately, and muttered under your breath, “Fucking idiot.”

It was unclear if you meant him or yourself.

Maybe both....

The morning after, as you walked into the briefing room, you immediately regretted it.

Price was already waiting by the projector, arms crossed, folder in hand, expression unreadable. Soap and Gaz were parked on the other side of the table with matching shit-eating grins, and Simon was slouched in a chair with his arms folded and that same constant air of annoyance radiating off him.

The only empty seat was across from him.

You sat down slowly, dragging the chair out with a screech that was just annoying enough to make your point. Simon didn’t even blink.

Price cleared his throat. “Right. Good, you’re both here. Let’s get this over with.”

He opened the folder and pulled out a few forms, sliding them onto the table. The top sheet had both your names printed in bold at the top, and before you could say anything, he held out a pen and added, far too casually, “You’ll need to sign this.”

You squinted at the page, then at him. “What is it.”

“Marriage license,” he said.

Simon actually made a sound. You didn’t know what kind, a scoff, a groan, a sigh, maybe all three crushed together.

“Come again?” you said, blinking like maybe the words just didn’t land right.

“Standard part of your cover,” Price went on, like this was just another Tuesday briefing. “If you're going to be married next door to the guy, you need something official. Records, registration, all of it. Delaney's cautious. He looks into people. If he pulls up your names and doesn’t find legal proof, the whole cover falls apart.”

“So we’re... legally married now?” you asked, staring at the paper like it might bite you.

“Temporarily,” Price clarified. “The paperwork will get dissolved after the op ends. Until then, it’s real enough to pass inspection.”

Soap leaned forward, grinning. “D’you want us to leave? Give you a moment? Say some vows?”

“Don’t,” you muttered, already grabbing the pen. “I swear to god, I will choke you.”

Gaz snorted. “Romance really is alive and well.”

You signed the paper quickly, digging the pen in harder than necessary, and slid it across the table toward Simon without even looking at him.

He took the pen without a word and stared at the paper for a beat longer than needed.

You could feel him thinking about it. About walking out, maybe, or writing something petty on the line instead. But in the end, he just signed it, dropped the pen, and leaned back again.

Price picked the papers up and slid them back into the folder. “That’s done, then. You’ll be leaving tomorrow. You’ll get your cover packet with your new IDs, address, car registration, and a few minor personal details to memorize. Keep it simple. The house is already furnished, fridge is stocked, and we’ve got a few cameras of our own set up for monitoring, but those’ll be on the outside.”

“Just curious,” you said, crossing your arms, “whose idea was it to marry us instead of just making us roommates or cousins or literally anything less humiliating?”

“Intelligence team’s,” Price said. “Delaney and his wife are tight-knit. They don’t invite people in unless they see themselves in them. You’re not gonna get close by being two strangers with no story. You need to look like a safe, boring, happy couple.”

Simon let out a short breath that might have been a laugh or might have been rage. “We’re fucked, then.”

Soap smirked. “Already? Didn’t even get to the wedding night.”

“Johnny,” Price warned without looking up.

Gaz grinned. “At least fake-married means fake arguments. Or are those gonna be real too?”

You stood up. “They’re already real.”

Simon stood, too. “They’ve always been real.”

Price didn’t even sigh this time. Just shut the folder and gave you both a look like he couldn’t believe this was his life.

“Go prep. Go memorize your covers. And for the love of god,” he added as you both walked out, “at least try to act like you don’t want to strangle each other in front of the neighbors.”

Behind you, you could hear Soap whisper, “Too late.”

The next day, the car rolled to a stop in front of the house that, apparently, you were supposed to call home for the foreseeable future, and you didn’t even bother unbuckling your seatbelt right away because the sight of it, the carefully painted fence, the trimmed little patch of lawn, the stupid flower box under the front window, made your entire body tense up with dread that came from knowing you were about to walk into something you couldn’t get out of.

The neighborhood was quiet in a way that felt fake, like everyone was trying too hard to act normal, and the only sound you could hear was the faint whir of some lawnmower in the distance and the soft creak of Simon’s door opening as he stepped out of the car without a single word.

You followed a few seconds later, grabbing one of the heavier duffel bags even though you knew he probably expected you to leave it for him, just to prove a point you weren’t even sure you believed in anymore, and the two of you walked up the short path toward the house without speaking, your boots thudding against the pavement in that awkward rhythm that made it painfully obvious neither of you knew what to say.

Simon fished the key out of his jacket pocket and unlocked the door without hesitation, and when he pushed it open and stepped inside, the sound of the hinges creaking made your stomach twist, because the house was too quiet, too clean, too ready for the two of you to start pretending that this was real life instead of a mission you both already hated.

The living room had a couch that looked barely used, two throw pillows that definitely didn’t match, a coffee table with a fake plant on it, and a stack of fresh mail on the kitchen counter, waiting to reinforce the lie that Mr. and Mrs. Riley had just moved in from some forgettable suburb to start their boring, lovely new life.

You stood just inside the doorway, bag still hanging from your shoulder, eyes moving slowly over the layout like maybe something would jump out and make this all make sense, but there was nothing, just a painfully neat little trap dressed up as domestic bliss.

Simon didn’t look at you as he dropped his bag on the floor near the stairs, didn’t say anything right away, just stood there for a second trying to figure out which part of this he hated the most, and then, after what felt like a full minute of pure silence, he glanced your way, and said in that flat, low voice that somehow made your blood pressure spike every time you heard it:

“Welcome to hell, Mrs. Riley.”

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs @mad-die45 @readingthingy @actualpoppy @amongthe141 @whore4romance @thatghostlykid @syofrelief @avgdestitute @sheepdogchick3 @echo9821 @imalapdog @foxintheferns @trulovekay @ruleroftides @rose37373 @succulambb @havoc973 @jajouska @fruitymoonbeams-blog @cece2608 @starryylies @silmarilniky

[c0sm1cp0tat0]

Yandere! Saja Boys x Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Accept it. Accept it. Accept....it??

Accept their feelings for you?? But you didn't know how. Did they demand you to reciprocate or merely stop resisting their feelings? You didn't even know WHAT feelings they meant, either.

Did they really like you?? Five of them? Five men, no, demons? That was ridiculous. They must not know what temporary attraction is. Thats why they keep driving you crazy and telling you how they'd die and kill for you.

You stumbled now after your side jabbed into a piece of furniture. You were on the run. On the run as in, through their huge ass penthouse, that is.

"Come on, [Y/N]~ The fans want it, so you can't run from ittt~!!" Abby's voice was like the eery hiss of a very beautifully patterned, very poisonous snake in your ear. He was hot on you heels; he didn't even need to try. Infact, you sussed out that you were actually the only one running here. He was about to catch up to you with just his relaxed strides.

You're wondering what's happening right now? A week ago exactly, you'd signed to be their manager. You were allowed back home-- briefly. But then you were thrown into this quick sand-pit of gigs, fan meets, approving merch. Other things that you could have sworn they were able to do themselves.

You spent more time with them that you ever had when they held you captive. You had a feeling they had a part to play in that.

And somewhere along the way, the fans had sussed out a few things. The prime one being how all five of the members looked at you when you weren't looking. That person they all said they already liked?? I wonder who they guessed that out to be.

The members didn't even care. They'd throw their arms around you in public. Fix you with this 'you're making me feel some typa-way' kind of stare while ON CAMERA. Watch you much too intently as your sorted through paperwork during fan meets. Yes, fan meets, as in the one event in which they're supposed to focus full attention on their FANS.

But the worst thing is, you'd expected the fans to do something. To rage. To demand refunds for the lack of attention. And then the Saja Boys would have to fire you and you'd be free. Instead?? You saw comments under the upload of the meet on Youtube.

"Guys GUYS GUYS. The Saja men are hot n all... but hear me out....THEIR MANAGER."

"Omg yea"

"She's clueless man"

"They're S. M. I. T. T. E. N."

"She's adorableee I wanna carry her in my pockettt"

"TAKES CARE OF THEM SO WELL OMG"

Now, there were things online. Fanart. Fanfiction. Direct messages to you, to the members. Asking if you were together. Asking for something you learned as fanservice.

There were shipwars. Now, Jinu had explained this one to you but you still didn't quite get it. Fans... fighting over...who you looked best with?

There were comments that you had to read through in order to delete the hateful ones.

"OH. EM. GEE. [Y/N] and Abby. have y'all SEEN the size difference?? So cute!!!"

"Dumb bitch, [Y/N] X MYSTERY for LIFE have you seen them?? [Y/N] literally has him on an invisible leash!!"

"I don't know, I think I like Jinu and [Y/N]'s love-hate relationship better. Remember when he hugged her and she called him a melonhead?? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ XD,"

"HAHA uncultured swines, y'all ever heard of Baby x [Y/N] x Romance??"

"TRY ME, OT6 FOR THE RUN AHHHHH"

You'd shut down the laptop then. It was too late to delete those either way; the PR manager of their company had already seen.

And decided that they could make some bank off of this. And when a higher-up decides that there's money to be made?? You're delusional if you think you're getting away unscathed.

To top it all off, the Saja Boys were all too happy to encourage this shipping nonsense, too.

So here you were, dashing from the truth. Panting, eyes widened. You kept on looking back. You were going in circles around the huge penthouse complex. Through every single room. By now, you were in a full-on sprint. You looked back. Abby was still right behind you.

And you were so busy looking back, you didn't notice the solid chest that you were about to bash into.

"Don't you know we can teleport? Tsk, tsk, tsk." Jinu tutted with a smile, clawed finger coming under your chin and lifting it so that you looked up at him like an angry albeit guilty child.

Ten minutes later you were pushed into a fancy studio. Tried to slip away, was dragged right back.

The professional photographer hired looks you up and down, chewing his gum obnoxiously loud. He had you figured out in seconds.

"Hmmm, not a normal manager are you? Quite young. Not a bad face. Not bad at all." He paused, regarding your tense shoulders. "Relax yourself hun, you're gonna earn in millions for this."

The first reference pose he showed you already had you rushing for the exit.

"Oh no no no you don't." Jinu smiled, grabbing you by the collar and lifting you right off your feet.

"You're our manager now. Keeping the fans happy is one of your commitments. This is one of your commitments."

So now, you found yourself propped upon Abby's lap. Your feet weren't touching the ground. He'd been grinning like a madman as you struggled to climb into his lap and he'd lifted you up, helping you. Now he was all professional. Arm loosely draped around your waist, leaned back. Staring at the camera with sensuality.

Your arms were twitching around his neck, aching to tear away. under your own biceps, you could feel his own, thrice the size of yours and solid as a rock, flexing.

You only realized now how big he truly was.

While you'd lost weight out of stress, he'd become even more beefy in preparation for the photo shoot.

He could feel you slowly start to tremble. Smiling in pleasure, he leaned in, "Don't worry darling, I won't crush you." He knew you were wary of him in particular due to his physique. Such a caution was...how does he say it... fucking adorable.

"Yeessss...yes yes yess give me all that emotion. The anxiety." Photo dude's eyes swivelled to Abby, "The attraction. [Y/N], don't be shy and lean in a bit closer, will ya babe? It's not everyday you get to sit on the lap of a top idol."

But you didn't want to. The photographer was only doing the top half of your bodies, so it couldn't properly be seen that you were on his fucking lap. Your left leg was subconsciously stretching, trying to reach the ground. How would your boyfriend react to this if he were still alive? Your frown deepened.

While the members leaned into fully assess the photos captured, their eyes sparkling with facination, you hung back, wondering if you could make a break for it now.

The next round was just as if not even more appalling. You were hiccuping, feet tripping and sliding against the floor as you tried to book it to the door. Jinu was smiling happily at the concerned-looking photographer. His large hand held the back of your collar, effectively preventing your escape.

"Sorry, she's very shy."

The photographer tuts, almost pityingly, "Oh, darling darling, we can't have this shyness in the entertainment industry...not if you wanna make the big bucks."

The rest of the member's eyes swivelled and darkened as the man smeared lipstick carefully over your rosebud lips.

While you were still fighting the urge to sprint, he had the audacity to even cheer you on "Don't be shy, get that man!!"

So you walked hesitantly towards Romance, hands shaking in tiny fists. He was leaned back lazily on the red velvet sofa being used. One side of his pretty lips quirked up. Lips that were also painted in that same shade as yours.

He beckoned you with a finger. And when you got barely into arms reach, he reached out and snatched you towards him.

"The whole face, he said, baby." The pinkette man almost snarled into your ear, fine brows furrowed cockily as his small smirk grew into a full on wicked smile.

You winced. Romance didn't hold you still or anything. You had to do it yourself. The handsome pinkette leaned in, cedarwood and rose scent engulfing you. His smirk returns, entertained as he notices your knuckles whitening on the couch fabric, stopping yourself from pulling away.

"We don't got all day." The photographer snarked.

Romance had no qualms of speeding it up. His large hands framed your face. At each peck on your cheek, your nose, your chin and forehead, you winced. You were trying not to struggle. But your legs still squirmed in protest. It was so adorable.

Soon, your face was covered in lipstick prints. Romance's eyes began to glow. He shut it down immediately. His marks. All over your pretty little face Fuck.

Click, click, click.

You tried not to wince at every audible shutter of the camera.

"Oh lord, even I would pay for these. Look at the emotions in his eyes."

When it came your turn, Roman actually had to tighten his hold to stop you from shuffling away, "Keep tryna chicken out, huh? Too bad, you can't because you already signed the contract~" It was rasped in your ear.

You shook off his grip, eyebrows tight in frustration and determination. But it wavered way too easily as one of the boys whistled. Probably Abby. "Come on, sweets!! Just like you did to Jinu that night!!"

The photographer looked at the man with wide eyes then looked back to you. You smiled crookedly, trying to appear innocent. But that wasn't going to get you out of this. Nothing was.

So you shut your eyes, and got to work.

When you opened your eyes, Romance was slumped in your arms. Just like your own, every inch of his face was covered in hot pink lip prints almost matching his hair. Mouth in a blissed-out smile. Face heated. It was like he was on something.

The camera shutter went off, "Excellent," The photographer breathed, eyeing the shots with wonder.

Mystery's reference one had you stumbling. "Is this...really okay to publish to fans??"

"Oh, darling," Photography guy chuckled like he knew something you didn't. But you knew something too; that you didn't fucking want to know what he knew.

So you stood, as they put a fucking collar around Mystery's muscular neck. Put a leash on the collar and tied an intricate knot around your wrist with the end of it.

And while Malak looked thrilled at the idea of being tied to you, you shook your wrist, eyeing the ribbon unaffectionately.

"Woah!" Your finger dug into his back when he delves for your neck. You weren't used to such a sensitive place being touched. Your other hand went to his hair, tightening on his scalp.

"That's it, put those big arms 'round her, champ!! Nuzzle your face in a bit more. Nice and tight now!!"

And oh god, the blue-grey haired boy didn't have to be told twice.

You hadn't thought much about it before. But now they were all pressing into you one after the other and you couldn't help but notice how big they all were. Even Baby, the smallest of them all was much taller than you.

"How much longer?" You couldn't help but mumble now, as you sat leaned back against Baby's chest as per the photographer's instructions. His legs were on either side of you. He'd locked them around you at some point and laughed when you couldn't get free. But he did let go. You still couldn't flee though.

"Trés adorable!! Just like that!! Put your arms around her neck!!" The photographer couldn't even hear you. He was gushing over the sight of you two together. You just didn't understand the appeal.

You actually forced yourself to look at the photos this time. They were aesthetically pleasing to say in the least. Though you didn't like the concept, the photographer had made them into a masterpiece. In some shots Beni looked cocky, smiling at you satisfiedly from the back. In others, he looked at you with this...mix of feelings in his eye.

You looked back at him now and he stared back unwaveringly. His lips didn't turn up into that mean cocky smirk or anything as usual. It was his large eyes that spoke to you instead. Just... pure emotions. Vulnerability. Want. Deprivation. He was spilling himself out to you without even speaking. Without even hesitating.

"Last member, honey. Gee-wizz you must be having the time of your life." Photo guy said jokingly but also seriously you didn't know which it was. You hoped it was joke. You were not having fun.

Especially when Jinu grabbed your shoulders and steered you back to the couch.

You were in shorts. you could feel the taut fabric of his pants as photo dude directed you to put your leg over his. You were told to go closer and you hesitated.

"Come onnnn, you kissed me before without hesitation. You're thinking for this??" This guy had a slap with his name on it lined up if he didn't shut up.

It was the second time photography guy's eyes almost popped out of his skull. You scooted closer to Jinu and quickly said, "Jokes, ahaha. Jinu's really funny off camera." You couldn't help but wince. What a lie. Jinu made you do the opposite of laugh. The amount of times you'd held back tears at the idea of being unable to leave their house, god.

His hand was now on your ankle, caressing. Moving up further. Photo guy was drinking this up. "Juuust like that. Keep looking at her like that."

He wouldn't say much about your emotions. Probably because he could read out clearly how badly you wanted to leave from here. You were sick of being surrounded by these male demons. But no one would understand.

⌗☾︎ ‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶⋅₊˚☽︎⌗

It was almost as if they knew how badly they'd pushed you the last day. Today, you were allowed home while the editors did their work on the shots and the bodyguards alone escorted the boys to their gig.

And it was almost as if your body knew how fucking mentally drained you were. The next minute you got home, you were out cold in your own sweet, sweet bed.

Now, 2pm the next day and you were still dead to the world. Your small form submerged in the sheets. Not silken soft ones from the penthouse, but your own. Mediocre cotton with coffee stains. You were in heaven; a dreamless sleep like no other.

You weren't on alert. You were safe in your own home. Your own personal space.

You loved your personal space. But guess what? The Saja Boys love your personal space too.

While you were passed out still, your front door opened. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. She doesn't even have an extra lock on the door." The low voice of Jinu buzzed in the background.

Baby Saja was the first to find your curled up form, barely taking up half your bed. And yet so comfortably asleep.

"Damn, she's exhausted."

"We worked her to the bone so that she'd stay," Abby shrugged, huge form leaning upon the door frame with his arms crossed.

Romance narrowed his eyes. Was he jealous of your bed? Maybe. His hand closed around one of the bed posts. He shook it hard. The entire bed shook. Self satisfied he stood up straight. "This beds rickety. Unsafe for her."

They were talking so carelessly loud. Mystery wasn't talking but was creating his own racket as he crawled onto the bed beside you. Feeling the sheets, grimacing in dissaproval when he sees they're not soft and luxurious like theirs. But you weren't stirring.

You were on your stomach, small arms closed around your head pillow as you mushed it up close to your face. It wasn't difficult for the boys to admire you like this.

Leaning in, pecking your face, stroking your hair. Running their hands down the dips and curves of your body through the duvet. Enamoured, they were. Good for you, you didn't wake up and notice.

"Wakey wakey baby~ We got pizza. It's your favourite; BBQ chicken." Jinu smiled, running his hand through your hair. Never had they seen you in such a state of peace and calm and vulnerability. Even when you slept over at theirs, you forever looked high on alert. Eyebrows knitted together, mumbling as if you were attempting to repell these demons even in your sleep.

You stirred, and turned over, still dozing. They watched, calmly. Until Abby, the more thoughtless and callous of them all, scooped up your small form into his arms. He liked having you against his muscles like this. It was a fixation for him at the moment; how pliant and clueless and soft you were between his arms.

It was a small of a thing as an all-too-familiar ghost of breath against your neck that had you jolting awake. You opened your mouth for a curse but your throat was all closed up from sleep.

You scrambled away and sat up, rubbing your eyes. You chose to ignore the way you were woken up, "How do you know my favourite-??"

They exchanged looks. They may or may not have looked under your car seats for takeaway bills and learnt the contents off by heart.

They wanted to tell you, but they shrugged instead. "All humans like pizza. And these just seemed to be popular toppings."

You walked straight past them to the bathroom, yawning as you did so. They sighed in relief. Thank god you were too tired to give them second thoughts. At the same time they wanted your thoughts though. Seconds, thirds, all of them.

You were an angelic little thing. All flushed cheeks and droopy eyes. Voice husky. Unable to even comprehend what they were saying properly because you were too disoriented. It was the first time they got to see what you were really like after an actual deep sleep. You were fucking ethereal.

In a loose knit sweater and the smallest fucking sleep shorts, you were walking sin and had no idea about it.

Mystery smiled, ringed fingers stroking against the coarse fabric of your pillow. It was an immense joy that filled him as he watched you obliviously walk into the bathroom. He was about to make good on your promise to him.

⌗☾︎ ‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶⋅₊˚☽︎⌗

TAGLIST ༉‧₊˚✧↳ @yumekono @levifiance @amery-benson-cvii @wantstoliveinfantasy @osball @apelepikozume @st3f13ily @little-ponkan @strayharmony943 @lazy-panther @scara-simp69 @p1nkpaperstars @ryuucollapse @tatsuri-zomushiki @crescent-z @wpdarlingpan @natllo @daikiswife @kinichportablecharger @realifezompire @i-am-here3 @daiyanomochi @elevenbts @hornehlittleweeblet @reni502 @nonetheartist @sanaxo-o @mshope16 @calmmell @luna-looniesblog @doodle-with-rhy @starr-matterr @fidenciocryptidcreechur @chirikoheina @ceramic-raven @whatdoesthesenpai @megapintofmilkshake @lover-girl009 @yandereaficionado @moon0goddess @neuvilletteswife4ever @hurts-my-brain @consecratedvampire91 @moonchildjae00 @coolnekochan9961 @misdollface

[memowoy]

fair, and valid.

can i add:

from the other side, asking someone point blank whether they were the ones who did it when they apologize in response to Bad News is objectively the funniest response to a sympathetic apology. as someone who is a chronic speaker of that statement.

i did that often when my grandma passed, and i was the only person who found humor in the joke. and i needed it! i laughed a lot through the first month as the news spread through my social circles, and i heard the many, many “sorries”. i didn’t want to feel the pity. i didn’t want to feel the sympathy. so i would ask:

“why, did you kill her?”

and, while gripped in the throes of grief, i’m sure the joke never made it through, though the looks of shock were hilarious! it brought me a lot of hearty belly laughs to hear people stutter at the response! i didn’t want to wallow, i didn’t have enough fluid to cry anymore, so lets laugh! let’s laugh at the dark, and the bleak, and the sad.

so, and maybe it’s just a suggestion, but if someone says “why :/ you didn’t do it” say you did. turn the bad news into humor, if you feel comfortable enough to do that. because i wish a lot more people played into my joke. i desperately wished someone would say “actually, i did. here’s how i did it”. i wish i got to share that laugh with a lot more people, because it beat the crying i was doing alone anyway.

but i am a chronic bit committer.

anyways, not to hijack your post, but it felt like a nice time to talk about this very specific thing, as someone who does that very specific thing, and never meant for it to be taken as seriously as it consistently came off.

i actually get a bit annoyed with people who get a bit annoyed when people say “sorry” in response to their bad news. “why are you apologizing you didn’t do anything :/” like okay well a) you don’t know that and actually yes i am the secret architect of all your woes and have been this whole time, way to refuse to acknowledge a woman (gender neutral)’s accomplishments. and b) we’re both fluent english speakers so you know perfectly well that “sorry” isn’t always an apology and is very commonly used as an expression of general regret or sympathy. not in this case, because i have been your secret nemesis for years, meticulously plotting your every misery, but, like, in general

[that-one-girl2020]

Can you do the one about the Shovel Talk in part 7, because I really want to know what happened.

The Shovel Talk

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: Ask and you shall receive! Or, at least, I will attempt to anyway. I tried to keep it simple for the most part and I’m working on more parts for this series.

Synopsis: After the defeat of Gwi Ma, you continue to explore your blooming relationship with the five Saja Boys. So, the Huntr/x girls take it upon themselves to have a little talk with them.

TW: Death threats?

Word Count: 1,001

Master List

Things were awkward.

That day you were spending time with the boys, you were going to introduce them to some modern movies like Disney or Studio Ghibli—you hadn’t decided which yet.

The boys and the girls had slowly relaxed from their overly protective and overly clingy mindsets a few days after you and the boys returned. So you didn’t know why the girls had suddenly shown up at the Saja Boys’ apartment.

Rumi, Mira, and Zoey were dressed in casual clothes, sharing one of the recliners with Rumi sitting in it and Mira and Zoey perched on the arm rests like a throne. The boys were squeezed on and around the couch, Jinu sitting in the middle of the couch with Kwan and Hyeon on either side of him. Jum and Chungae sat on the armrests, their feet behind Kwan and Hyeon’s backs.

Meanwhile, you were sitting in the other recliner, looking between the two groups. “I’m gonna… go start that recipe I found… Please don’t maim or kill each other.” You stood slowly. The boys’ eyes went to you, following you as you slowly left the room but they didn’t say anything.

“Okay, we’re just gonna get to know the boys,” Rumi smiled, waving you off gently.

“Yeah, don’t mind us, (Y/n),” Zoey grinned widely, her eyes closing with the size of it.

Mira leaned back on the arm rest, propping her elbow on the top of the recliner, “Sorry, for dropping in on you.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine…” You waved them off, sliding the folding door closed behind you. ‘It’s not like it’s my place anyway…’

~~~

With you in the kitchen, the aura in the room shifted. The planes of Mira, Zoey, and Rumi’s faces shifted, sharpening as the shadows changed, their eyes narrowing and their smiles falling as they turned their attention on the boys.

The boys tensed, fingers twitching as if readying for a fight. They couldn’t help but wonder if the girls hadn’t actually accepted them, if they were plotting to kill them.

“What’re your intentions with (Y/n).”

The boys faltered at Rumi’s blunt demand. Their figures relaxed but their faces hardened to match the girls. “How is that your business.”

“It’s not,” Mira responded in a clipped, even tone. “But even if she doesn’t want it, we’ll still watch over her.”

“We know we have no place dictating her life, and we won’t,” Zoey added.

“However, (Y/n) has never been in a relationship before and we worry for her,” Rumi propped her chin on her fist, looking at the boys flatly. “So if you all intend to fight over her, or hurt her, we will tell (Y/n) immediately.”

The boys wanted to argue, their tempers flaring at the insinuation that they would hurt you when the girls had been the ones that had turned their backs on you when it counted. Vitriol filled their lips, tempting them to speak and spew the vitriol at the girls.

But they couldn’t.

Because at the heart of the matter, they all just wanted to protect you.

“(Y/n) is the one that shows me the joys of the human world. She teaches me to be human,” Jum stated.

“She’s the only one I want to hold close, her warmth and her scent are home.”

“She’s the one that reminded me what it’s like to be gentle and yet strong at the same time.”

“She’s the first one who’s made me feel really seen and… loved. I want to love her.”

”(Y/n) is the one who saw my… our flaws and she chose to love us anyway. It’s been so long that we don’t remember what it feels like to love another. But if this is it, then we will fight for it.”

Jinu spoke, all the boys looking at the three girls with steely determination. They were flawed, there was no arguing that. They had pasts that they weren’t proud of, things they were just now starting to make up for. But you understood them, you became their guiding light. Their reason to do better than they had before.

The girls took in their words silently, not reacting as they listened raptly. Once they had said their piece, the girls looked at them for a long moment, meeting their eyes one by one. Then they looked at each other, the three girls communicating with their expressions alone—it wasn’t subtle though. The boys watched as the girls deliberated using exaggerated eyebrows, narrowed or widened eyes, pointed looks, and different twists of their lips.

Eventually, they turned back to the boys.

“Fine. But know that if you ever hurt (Y/n), then we won’t hold back,” Rumi stated sharply.

Mira snarled, “We’ll turn you to ash—even if we have to do it the old fashioned way.”

Zoey slammed a fist on the coffee table before them, “No one will ever be able to find your bodies when we’re done with you!”

Kwan smirked, crossing his arms over his chest, “And if you hurt (Y/n) ever again, we’ll be forced to turn the tables and make the Hunters into the Hunted.”

Chungae leaned forward, swinging an arm around Hyeon’s shoulders as he shared Kwan’s smirk, “We’d have to put our limited demon abilities to work.”

Mira bristled, “Oh yeah? Well if you hurt her then we’ll have to shop you all into little pieces and feed you to Derpy and Sussie.”

Jinu raised an eyebrow at the girls, tilting his head, “You really think Derpy and Sussie would side with you over me?”

Rumi quirked her lips, “Oh yeah, definitely.”

From there, it devolved into the two groups lightheartedly trading death threats.

~~~

You couldn’t help but sigh and shake your head in the kitchen. You returned to the recipe you were attempting, not confident in it but you still trudged on.

You couldn’t help but wonder how you ended up with eight dorks but you wouldn’t trade a single one of them for the world.

A/N: The tag list is still full but let me know if anyone doesn’t wanna be tagged anymore!

Outtakes:

You, Saja Boys, Huntr/x: *Casually hanging out together in disguise*

A Random Passerby: *Overhearing them*

Saja Boys, Huntr/x: “I’ll fillet you with my sword and grill your entrails for dinner.” “I’ll rip your heart out with my bare hands and rip your throat out with my teeth.” “Poison would be quick and efficient.” “If I shoved a gallon of glitter down your throat, would that kill you?”

The Passerby: *Shook. Walking away faster.*

…

You: “Okay, I finished baking!”

Saja Boys: *Looking down with dread at whatever you just set on the table* “Uhmmm… Great. Looks…delicious…”

You: “Don’t worry, I know. I’m gonna go buy some—DON’T EAT IT!”

Abby: *Blue in the face* “ANYTHING FOR YOU BABE!”

…

Tag List: @brights-place @itmechaosartist @reni502 @chin-chii @cultish-corner @enerofairy @mama-m1na @akariis4snowball @gremlinartstudio @shynotded @shadowmoonlight0604 @omgsuperstarg @neigesprincess @sleep-7372 @hurts-my-brain @kiwibackie @gh0stied3ath @naysha140 @theferretkids @lelantyuu @sexyindependentdowntospendit @hornehlittleweeblet2 @moonymoo1 @moochiwoochi @cheolright @crescent-z @prorpy @mey-archive @cami1qx @nerdalicios @xxsadlovexx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @blackheart34 @anonymousewrites @scarletrosesposts @justanindiangirl12 @beexboo @tatsuri-zomushiki @call-me-nyxx @queenofviolenceandnerds @randomfan218-blog @jaybbygrl @unholycheesesnack @ocean-mochi @iviorienne @confusedparticle @otakusimp1 @nosbaby07 @fries11 @ri-eveowe @1950schick @libdarkheart @yourjustassaneasiamx @the-bookish-artist @anduinandwrathionlover @eternallyrosyfire @lysira340 @lansy-4 @strayharmony943 @maximumtrashchild @bleufu1 @minepugs @valeriele3 @arieslucy @nisarelle @suzieq1948374 @esposamultifandom

[arbitrarykiwi]

*⁀➷ Mid-Game Anger Relief

Nam-Gyu (Player 124) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+) , degradation , mean namgyu , sex while playing video games , exhibitionim (ish)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀

When you and Nam-Gyu started dating and he found out you liked to play a lot of the video games he did- you never thought he would use it to his advantage in the way he did.

Sure, he enjoyed being able to play his own games with you curled up next to him doing your own thing. He also adored being able to play co-op games with you and have you actually give him a run for his money (Nam-gyu was rather competitive and liked the challenge).

But his favorite perk of having a cute gamer girlfriend?

Being able to get rid of his mid-match frustration by fucking his sweet girlfriend raw and cumming deep inside you- all while you play and keep his character alive!

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ kill my character.” He’s slapping your cheek rapidly. The slaps are soft and quick, definitely not enough to hurt but enough to make you peel your eyes open and flop your head back to the side, trying to focus on the screen. “You fucking die, I’ll leave you here. You won’t cum.”

His voice is coming out almost like a growl, teeth clenched and chest heaving. You know he’s serious. Whining and practically chewing your bottom lip raw, your fingers meticulously mash the buttons trying to kill the enemies on the screen. It’s so hard to aim straight when every wet thrust jolts you on the couch.

Nam-Gyu is transfixed by the way he splits your messy hole open, every thrust wets his dick even more with your creamy arousal. “Gonna fuckin’ take it alll.” He says, jackhammering his hips into yours like your cunt is the reason for his poor game performance. “Sloppy cunt just sucking me in.”

Every thrust you can feel the frustration he harbors from the online match of whatever game he was playing.

Elbows tucked into your sides and arms raised slightly with the way you hold the console controller, it emphasizes every lewd jiggle of your tits under that fucking shirt you’re wearing.

Frantically, he’s reaching under your arms, hand sliding up your sternum and bunching your shirt up. Your tits spill out from the confines of the fabric, now bouncing in time with each of his thrusts. Almost instantly, one of his hands is flying down your chest, moulding and squeezing the fat in his hands before honing in on your nipple, flicking the peaked bud.

Once again your eyes are fluttering shut and you’re whimpering out his name. And trying to open your eyes only to have them roll to the back of your skull when he angles his thrusts to hit your g-spot every single time

“How fucking pathetic…” he spits out like he’s not the one making you this way, like he’s not the one fucking you stupid and rearranging your insides, “you can’t even keep your eyes open. You’re gonna kill my character and you’re not gonna get to cum.” He laughs, like you’re only set up for failure.

“‘M trying.” You plead, using all the willpower you have to peel your eyes back open to look at the screen. You’ve taken some damage but you’ve managed to keep the character alive. “I-Im keeping you alive!” You choke, frantically pressing buttons on the controller.

With his thrusts never faltering, he’s turning backwards to look at the TV, surprisingly you’re doing well, keeping up with the rest of the team in kills of the enemy team.

“Hm, would you look at that, you can do something right.”

He’s turning backwards towards you, looking down at where he sinks into you. His hair falls into his face, some strands swaying with each forward motion.

“You’re so fuckin’ messy. This is supposed to be for me y’know” he kisses his teeth and rolls his eyes like he’s the one inconvenienced, “Yet your gushing around me like you haven’t had a good fucking in a day in your life.”

He says it like it’s an annoyance, degrading and mocking. Yet, he keeps driving his hips forward making you gush around his cock even more. You can hear how wet you are, every forward thrust Nam-Gyu does makes a sickening squelch that you know the lobby can probably hear.

Oh right! The lobby! The online lobby of Nam-Gyu’s friends that are in the game with him. The group of friends that you can hear from the discarded headset- yelling out call-outs and cussing each other out.

Your eyes remove themselves from the TV for a split second to look over at the headset. It’s on the opposite end of the couch, microphone still bent inwards from the way Nam-Gyu had it when he wore it. The thought of Thanos, Se-Mi, Min-Su, Gyeong-Su and whoever else may be in the voice chat hearing what’s going on only makes you more turned on.

Following your gaze, his angry scowl turns into a sadistic grin when he realizes where you’re looking “Such a fuckin’ slut y’know that?”

You look back to the TV, to the character you have to keep alive instinctively when you hear his voice. “Fucking clenchin’ like you’re gonna snap my dick off”.

“You like the idea of my friends hearing you take my dick? Bet they can hear your sloppy cunt already.”

“It’s not that-“ you whine out, trying to excuse every way your body is betraying you.

“No? It isn’t?” His hands squeeze your waist, tightening his grip and using it as leverage to drive you down on his cock. He’s stretching you open in was that has you feeling like he’s alll the way in your stomach.

He pauses for a moment, reaching across the couch to grab the discarded headset and move it closer to the two of you.

Nam-Gyu drives his hips back until only the tip rests in your opening, “So you don’t like the idea of my friends hearing how I wreck you?” He says in a low voice, one that wouldn’t be picked up by the microphone just yet. He’s shallowly thrusting in, only until you hear the sickening pop! of the head of his cock being swallowed by your sticky walls.

“N-no I-.” Your voice is pathetic when you hear it, broken and creaky.

“I bet they can hear how wet you are…” Nam-Gyu purrs, tilting his head ever so slightly and removing one hand from your waist.

When his thumb comes in contact with your clit, drawing lazy circles around it- you’re letting out a gasp of his name, he’s laughing “Ohhhh~ I know they heard that one.”

Your body betrays your own words. The second he mentions how his group of friends most certainly heard your desperate moans- your cunt is pulsing around him.

“God, you’re pathetic.” He scoffs, his hips beginning to pick up their pace once more, “but since y’wanna put on a show so bad…”

He’s placing both hands on your thighs and pushing them back so far your knees are practically touching your ears. He slowly sinks back into your tight hole, inch after agonizing inch that has your back arching up off the couch.

You’re gasping a choked sound that drawls on into a whiney moan the farther he pushes his cock into you. You’re biting your lip to muffle the sound, although it’s far too late and it was most certainly picked up by the head set microphone.

“Oh no…” he’s saying in a sing-song voice, shaking his head. “You can do better than that….” Nam-Gyu scoffs at your soft moan, “come on now, why don’t you give them the nice lil show you wanna put on so badly since you’re making them carry the team, hm?”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

Taglist: @namsgyu @nuttybeans @namgyucat @g1rlonthe3internet @reilapse @yuuumeee @thanosspills

[seasidefallenangel]

yeah, i feel it coming on, when i've been static for too long

how good are blue lock men at taking off your bra? ft. itoshi sae, otoya eita, chigiri hyoma, yukimiya kenyu, karasu tabito, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser, mikage reo, alexis ness

notes: companion post with my bestie reid<3 you can read his here or by clicking the title, suggestive but mostly funny, reader wears a bra but gender isn't specified

༄ CAN TAKE YOUR BRA OFF BETTER THAN YOU CAN -

sae:  you’re not sure how exactly he’s so good at this. despite his looks and ease of access, he had no interest in relationships prior to meeting you. you can’t accuse him of cheating either because sae would just flat out dump you if he was no longer interested. even when you ask he just gives you a blank stare and asks if it matters. in the end you just had to chalk it up to him being naturally good at everything once again.

otoya: every time he flawlessly unclasps your bra your eye twitches with resentment. you’re both fully aware of why he’s able to do that with such ease, but you won’t bring it up. he just laughs nervously and prays he can make you feel good enough that you won’t think to interrogate him further. at least he thinks you’re hot when you’re mad (just… not when you’re mad at him.)

chigiri: you ask him if he’s so good at this because he wears them in his free time. he does not laugh. honestly though, the worst part about him is how sneaky he is. you never even feel his hand, fingers, not a thing until your bra is suddenly no longer on your body. the worst is when he does it in the grocery store to piss you off as revenge for something you’d done two days prior. to this day you still never see it coming.

༄ GETS IT AFTER A FEW TRIES -

yukimiya: yukimiya is a good boy who always has your best interest at heart, and literally spent time in a lingerie store figuring out how bras work so he could do it with ease during any actual intimacy. dealing with the fabric on a moving body was a bit more difficult than he anticipated, but he’s still good enough at it that it doesn’t really distract or take away from the heat of the moment. 

karasu: he’s been around here and there, but he’s no player or one to have a million situationships at once. it’s not quite muscle memory for him but he’s still familiar enough to get it off of you in a decent amount of time. something to his benefit is that he is touchy, so if he thinks it’s going to be more of an issue tonight he’ll opt to run his fingers across your body to distract you. it’s like the touch of an angel’s wing, so soft and reverent that you can’t even feel him fiddling with the metal clasps. 

isagi: there’s a demon in the back of his head that tells him if he can’t do this properly then he needs to kill himself. there’s absolutely no reason he should be taking it this seriously. you can’t figure out why he looks so stone faced when he’s trying to unhook it until he eventually admits he’s timing himself in his head and trying to shave off seconds it takes him. it’s so ridiculous yet so earnest and so yoichi that you don’t even have the heart to make fun of him for it. 

༄ BECOMES IMPATIENT AND JUST DESTROYS IT -

nagi: he’s actually a more patient person than you think. the only thing that really gets him is menial tasks, complex things for no reason or overly complicated to deal with. those horrible straps and clips of yours fall under every category he hates and therefore bras as a whole are his mortal enemy. there’s a sign on his door that says “bra free area” in messy handwriting and he takes it very seriously. leave that shit in the bathroom.

rin: considering he was a sad, pathetic virgin before you two started dating, it’s very obvious he has no idea how the fuck that thing works. he hates that you even have to wear it all. there’s nothing that tanks his mood worse than making out with you and him seeing that demon when he gets your shirt off. you’ve yelled at him a million times for it and he always just buys you three more to make up for it. just let him do it or he’ll act all broody and upset for the rest of the night.

bachira: too damn excited to do anything properly. he’s literally vibrating every single time you even kiss him, and the prospect of doing anything more has him about to do backflips in the living room. you’re not sure if he knows how to do it right or not - he’s never even tried. he bit the straps off with his teeth once for god's sake. at the end of the day it is off of your body one way or another, and you just don’t have the energy to correct him otherwise.

shidou: the thing with shidou isn’t that he doesn’t know how to - he doesn’t want to. not only does he find the prospect of ripping clothes incredibly sexy, he’s an impatient bastard. if he can’t get instant gratification and a constant dopamine rush then he’s making it everyone else’s problem. cussing him out doesn’t work either cause he’ll just give a loud fake moan and tell you you’re hot when you’re a bitch. there’s no winning here, so get used to it.

༄ … YOU SHOULD PROBABLY JUST TAKE IT OFF YOURSELF -

kaiser: michael kaiser is an asshole and generally never gave a shit about his partners’ needs before you. he can’t take off a bra because he never felt like there was a reason to, and now it’s coming back to bite him in the ass. if you offer to help he just gets even angrier. will literally stop everything and swear for 5 minutes straight under his breath while his fingers get caught in the clasp. if you want to do anything with him, take off your bra before approaching.

reo: not as much of an asshole as a certain someone, but is in the same camp of not needing to ever take it off. people were always throwing themselves at him for a chance to be in the mikage family so the work he had to do was minimal. in a weird way, he likes it when you giggle at his unusually clumsy nature while trying to unhook your bra. it makes him feel normal, knowing you’re so at ease with teasing him. at some point he does learn how to do it properly, but still bumbles around - partly because he likes to hear your laugh, partly because he’s too distracted with how cute you are to pay any real attention. 

alexis: between being far too busy as kaiser’s right hand man, and absolutely loathing the hook-up culture of the world, alexis doesn’t know the first thing about women’s lingerie. at most he picks out pretty colors for you sometimes. you’re always the one to do it because every single time he tries, without fail, he takes so long that his fingers get sore and he starts tearing up. something about “being a bad boyfriend” and “not knowing how to treat you” and you want to shake him and say you don’t give a shit, it’s literally fabric. please don’t ever put him through that again.

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

#something something indoctrination assimilation whitewashing repeating cycles#always thinking about 'shes taking the abuse in stride' or whatever he says#about her dealing with the coven hazing#and how to him clearly hazing rituals suffering objectification degradation behaviors are SO INGRAINED as morally positive#purgative cleansing religious type behaviors. no pain no gain. rub some dirt in it kinda vibe#parent neglecting their kid because 'thats what my parents did to me and i turned out fine'#'the problem with today's kids is their parents arent disciplining them'#'participation trophies'#(and tbh claudia kinda matches this freak. she DOES take the hazing in stride. she DOES appreciate the ritualism of pain and humiliation#in ways that louis for example does not)#BUT#it's sooo similar to how armand thinks about her/their age#'she's going to break and walk into the sun because she was turned too young. how do i know? shes me'#in his own twisted ruthless way he thinks hes sparing her by weeding her out bc HIS life as a child vampire is agonizing#and if she cant take it then shes basically a dead girl walking.#and literally the same thing with like#fetishizing infantilizing assimilation another person (child) of color#'youre the only one with a childs physique'#and like. he totally knew what he was doing putting her in basically a minstrel show#it was all just another test for her. 'this is the way it is .this is what we have to do to survive. there is no other option.'#because he quite literally has neverrrr unpacked and challenged the brainwashing done to him by marius and the slavers and the coven#claumand narrative foils gothic doubles dopplegangers !!!!!!!!!!! shes him IF he had taken the other path of resistance#fight/flight vs fawn/freeze#armand internalizing his anger and fawning/manipulating/shutting down/making himself small to survive#versus claudia actually being able to externalize it and kill her abuser and fight against her situation as a Black child vampire#like. he literally thinks he knows whats best for her. as hes perpetuating racism and siding with their metaphorical/literal oppressors#iwtv#interview with the vampire via @wolfiet

Something something Armand being stripped of his identity and history to the point of not seeing himself in his own portrait something something a poor child of color being abused by the european elite and being whitewashed in their portraits something something he was never allowed to belong to himself that's why he craves being dominated something somETHING

[ellatherepersons]

Clangen cats woahhh

I also animated them (vaugly))

[peace-hunter]

For the haunted au:

We already know they all hate Megatron and no one can understand what Optimus sees in him so they just assume Optimus has terrible taste in mechs and try to push him towards other bots to date instead.

Megatronus: what about that Femme Elita? She is strong, loyal, and has a good helm on her shoulders.

Optimus: what? What are you guys talking about now?

Solus: what about that doctor? Ratchet? He would be a great choice considering how reckless Optimus is.

Optimus: seriously what are you guys talking about!?

they have Opinions™ about it yes. Optimus is absolutely mortified about it and would like to never speak of the topic ever again thank you and good night.

he also cannot believe bee would betray him like that. this is the second time he's been murdered by friendly fire OTL

haunted au

bonus:

[aloeverawrites]

"... well that's still not fair."

"Of course it's not fair, we are enslaving you! tremble before us!" They declared, blue arms waving angrily over their heads.

I think for a minute and excuse myself, heading back to my group.

"Okay so I have a game plan."

My group was a human rights organisation fighting for universal basic income across the globe. We call ourselves UBI-Iseeyou because, well we were mad at the billionaire class okay. Also we wanted a name that could almost be a pun, anyway-

"Guys, they want to enslave us. They think they're harming us, they clearly don't have our best intentions at heart." I say and Zoe pipes up with,

"Yeah but maybe their translators just say that and they don't mean it? Also like even if they do mean it, they can't all think the same things right? Should we judge them all because a few members of their species are jerks?"

"Okay, true that's a really good point actually. We won't write them off entirely. But still, if they mean what they see then they mean to hurt us. It's only a matter of time before they realise that those things don't hurt humans and they pivot to something else. Plus, they've shown they have no harm killing cows and they have about as much in common with cows as they do us. Who's to say we're not next if they find a better use for us? If another species they enslave wants people steaks?"

"Plus, what will the planet look like if we're farming beef, waygu beef for 8 billion people? We're gonna cook." Tina said and I grimaced thinking at what the methane output of that would look like.

"Plus, like why strawberries?"

"You're right, we have to do something about this." Joey said and we all nodded.

"Don't worry guys, like I said, I have a plan."

One good thing about a person always being awful to you, is that they're predictable. The ruling classes started a war against the aliens, because how dare they take their wage slaves and turn them into slaves with a better work life balance and access to waygu beef.

They used all the best weaponry and tech they could, stuff only the billionaire classes have access to. (Stuff we didn't even know they had like, what the hell is a matter destabiliser. Who the hell were they developing that to use on- well obviously us but like damn.) And that's about all they used. See the insistence on replacing humans with AI meant that most of the 'fighters' were robots, ai, machines and computers. The humans weren't really included. Except for the ones who really believed the billionaire classes had their best interests at heart. There were way less of those these days. Especially since my group, and others like it, had been encouraging each other not to fight. We used our funds to support those who would have been pressured into fighting otherwise, gave them an income and the chance to join our fight instead, and most took it. Yeah instead of fighting 'the blues' as humanity called them we came up with our own plans. (Also guess how we fuelled our mission? That's right, blackmarket strawberry trade with aliens. Oh and strawberry tarts? They would sell out their own in a heartbeat for those things and I honestly can't blame them.)

The minute they won the war against the aliens, the one percent sat down to celebrate, resources depleted, expecting the praises of humanity. Instead that's when the real war began. The class war.

See we had spent all our time planning against them, forming our own armies and adding our own programs into their tech. So when they returned, tired from their intergalactic battle over who gets to be humanity's overlords, we seized our chance. Their robots turned against them, their wealth was redistributed into our communities, democracies were propped and laws about investing and finances were enacted so no one could ever use the system to own more wealth than a country ever again. We took total control, and you know what? It was bloodless. No one saw it coming, the bots and the rest of the planets now united population turned on them overnight. We refused to kill or harm them, because we didn't want to start a new dawn of human rights like that. Their punishment was living on a planet full of people that resented them for their greed in the before times. Also good luck going to mars, there are aliens living there now and they don't like you either, so ha.

It turns out that divide and conquer strategy, the make your enemies turn on each other thing that they had been using on us really worked. Our competing overlords spent so much time fighting each other, they couldn't focus on us anymore. Kind of like how they used bigotry and started wars in other countries to keep the working class divided, too busy hating each other to unite and fight for better.

Thanks for the tactic guys.

The aliens retreated to their ships, exhausted and hurting from their war. They too were angry about the outcome, and turned on their leaders creating a huge regime change. We don't know exactly how their political systems work, but, well we wanted to.

The international galactic representatives of earth offered to meet with 'the blues'. To our joy, our message was received by their smaller political group that cared about blue rights, and to some extent, our own.

We gave them some of our tech, very hesitantly, (there was a lot of international debates about that) and they managed to take power as well. So now two planets were govern by a commitment to the rights of sentient beings.

They gave us alien technology, medication, ideas and tech beyond our wildest dreams that helped us progress faster than ever. With this stuff, two day work weeks was all we needed for full time work, if that.

So that's how we entered into the new age of hope, of no illness, no poverty, no bigotry, no harm to animals and no climate change or environmental destruction. UBIs and no forced work, a common two day work weeks and finally, after all this time, world peace. World peace that included all species, that extended past the cities into the forests, the oceans. Finally, the whole earth sat in contentment, no lifeforms suffering for the first time since life had begun.

And all it took was some cooperation, an intergalactic war.

And a whole of strawberries.

"Dear earthlings, prepare to be my slave!" Announced the alien. "You will have to work 3 entire days from Monday to Wednesday, you will only get A5 wagyu steak for meals, and if that isn't cruel enough you'll have to work 2 entire torturing hours of picking strawberries every single work day!"

[bebethsas]

acedemicblorbo: #vikjayce

not only are you right, but they either have matching lockets, or take turns wearing it.

Jayvik:

Caitlyn: Jayce, is that a heart hanging from your neck?

Jayce: yes it is.

Caitlyn: ...alright then.

Jayce:

Caitlyn: ...so which portrait of Viktor is in it?

Jayce: the one where he's napping in the lab but you can't tell him

Vi: Viktor, what's on your neck, is that some kinda weird piltie thing? (she says, as if Caitlyn hasn't gifted her at least THREE already)

Viktor: no, but I think you have something on your neck that you definitelygot in Piltover.

Vi: HEY, hickeys are fucking NORMAL, thank you!

Viktor: While I appreciate the explanation, I was referring to the jacket you're currently wearing.

Vi: oh, shut up, you were NOT! (cue Vi sputtering out a flustered rant about how her love life is her business, thank you, and doesn't he have another hextech-powered machine to build or something?? while Viktor smirks quietly.)

(it isn't until a bit later that Vi realizes that he never answered her question.)

whereas vikjayce...

I can sum it up in one description: they keep grabbing the others' locket chain, and each keep trying to erotically choke out the other with it.

jayvik vs vikjayce:

sorta the same ship but not really, hence the differing descriptions XD

vikjayce: screaming and trying to kill each other *while* fucking

they are those toxic exes who *cannot stay away from each other*, but cannot *stay together* either (basically: Ron and Tammy (2) from Parks & Rec). And if you're unfortunate enough to be in the same room before they start to go head-to-head, flee NOW.

"I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU" energy crossed with "I'm only allowed to die by your hand, because I hate you, and I want your face to be the last thing I see, and your touch to be the last thing I feel."

The kind of dynamic that almost always ends in a (toxic) weirdly romantic double-homicide, with them dying in each other’s' arms...while also literally stabbing the other in the back.

They sleep-in The Morning After, snooze, share the morning Sunday paper and a cup of coffee, and make polite smalltalk/chit-chat catching up on each other's lives.

...Then on Monday one tries to disintegrate the other with a laser.

Jayvik: "I'd say I hate you but that's a lie because I never could." (alternatively:) "I'd hate you if I didn't love you so much."

"I would die for you." "Okay!" *dies in each other's arms*/ "I would die for you." "Okay!" ~5 minutes later~ "wait shit I didn't actually think you were serious, oh my gods, we can fix this, we can fix this--"

one second they're loudly arguing/ screaming at each other, the next they're having Very Loud sex, half-undressed. It will be messy, and the location may or may not be private.

at one point there will be crying. This will be followed by the other holding them and soothingly shushing them.

"D'you think we'll be friends forever?" "yeah!" "pinkie-swear on it!" *2 little kids lock pinkies* ~20 years later~ *as one of them holds the lifeless/ mortally wounded but alive body of the other in their arms* "I promised you."

they are unironically soulmates, and they keep fucking choosing each other, even though it keeps leading to their mutual doom.

"our love is carved in blood and stone. It is messy, and sometimes harsh, and primal, and I wouldn't want it any other way. I love you.

They can end my life, burn my body, tear my soul into atomic pieces, and scatter my remains to the four corners of the earth, and they still will never be able to destroy my love for you. Nothing--not death, not betrayal, not warcrimes or an acquired god-complex, not embittered battles, nothing--could make me stop loving you. You could try to crush me, and I would welcome it. Embrace me, and I will melt into you.

You are written into the fabric of my being; if they were to cut me open, they would find strands of your dna inseparably intertwined with mine, in every cell, because we were always the same. You are not my other half of a whole; I am you and you are me and we were always the sole 2 pieces cut from the same cloth, meant to rejoin into something greater than ourselves. I love you.

When I say 'I love you' I mean it in every sense and meaning and tone of the word. If you bled, I would feel it. If you ever felt despair, I would suffer it. If you ever mourned I would carry that burden alongside you, simple as breathing. We were never lonely, we just sat too far apart to see each other. Fate or destiny or pre-determined outcomes...they don't matter. I will choose you whether it's fate or of my own free will, every time. I love you.

When we make love, the stars sing and my blood fizzles with that song, b/c it's the ancient song of the universe and everything within it that started eons ago and never stopped. Since we are all made of stardust, we are like two stars colliding. Making love with you isn't an urge, or a craving, it's a need--a deep, unending need to bend the laws of matter and be as close to you as possible. I need you--we can worry about human needs later, right now I want to completely merge with you until it's impossible to tell us apart. I will worship you with my body and my devotion until the end of time, because not even death and reincarnation could break my infinite continuous love for you.

I know you; I see you. I see into every dusty crevice and crack beyond your polished mask, and I love it. I love all of it. I love you. My love for you is literally too big for my body.

I will love you on days when you are cranky or short-tempered, I will love you when you are sick, I will love you when you are careless and foolish and act frustratingly stupid. On the days when you burn our toast. On the days when you slam a door in my face. On the days when one of us said something stupid or careless or hurtful, and we argued about it for *hours*, so now one of us is sleeping on the couch (even though it's bad for both of our backs), and both of us are lonely and sad and miss the other, but aren't quite ready to swallow our pride and apologize. On the days when you either accidentally or purposefully finished off my leftovers without asking (yes, I know it was you, who else would it have been, the cat?? The cat doesn't have thumbs, how could she have opened the refrigerator?! ...yes, obviously you owe me a replacement now. ...I will accept payment in the form of you cooking my favorite.) (also, on the days when you also steal my bagel for the umpteenth time. It's cute that you think that I don't hear you sneaking up on me, then giggling triumphantly when you sneak away, your heist successful, and prize gripped between your teeth.) On the days when you save 'the last bite' for me, because you know it's my favorite. On the days when life is simply Too Much and one of us (or even both of us) needs to cry, and you hold me or I hold you or we hold each other, and that is Enough. On the day(s) when you don't keep your eyes on the road and we nearly crash, and yes we don't and we didn't, this time, but every time you do that you're gambling on our safety, and it scares me to death (it scares me so much that I demand that you SAFELY pull over just so I can hold you so tightly that I can feel your heartbeat through our clothes.) On the days when you can't bear to leave your bed, because the world is too harsh and cruel and unyielding to your beautiful soul today, and you either need indulgent doting or support to get up. On the days when you are possessed with a new idea and you talk so fast that I can barely understand you, but I still try to keep up because this is important to you (and important to me too). On the days when we are unfair to each other. On the days when we most strongly feel our mutual affection towards one another. Because you are my soul. And how can I not love my soul? I love you."

--(I'm sorry, I think I was temporarily possessed by Jayce for a hot minute or ten.)

twin stars locked in orbit with each other, slowly inching closer and closer over millennia, but...they're happy about it? One day they are going to collide, and destroy themselves and potentially take out all planetary bodies surrounding them...and they are overjoyed about it, because they can't wait to permanently merge with their beloved.

waking up sunday morning with a sunbeam shining over the other's face as they sleep.

"DAD!" (*sleepy groan*) "'s your turn." "they're calling for you." "I did the last one, you promised I could sleep." "DAAAAD!" (*groaning sigh*) "okay, fine, you're right, I promised you." (*sound of a quick kiss on a cheek, followed by shuffling, half-awake, fading footsteps*) (distantly: "...okay kiddo, what's wrong?" "noooo, I want DAD!!" "your Dad's sleeping, honey." (*sad hiccupping*) "I wan' Daaaaad..." (*weary sigh of a man who knows it's futile to fight with his toddler over this, and also knows that attempting said fight will just drag this out even longer*) "okay." (*small grunt of a man scooping up a small child, followed by approaching footsteps) "Heeeey, look who's up?" (please don't kill me please don't kill me please don't kill me) (*sigh of defeat*) "What's wrong, my little mouse?" (*despondent hiccup*) "I had a nightmare--can I sleep with you?" (...they can, and they do.)

...@okmissgirl I, uh, I wrote another one(s)

the heart shaped locket with a portrait of my nemesis inside stays ON during sex

[starry-bi-sky]

mmm throwaway conversation between Dan and Danny that popped into my head that I had to write out:

"You spent ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, then went back in time and fought me, and lost." Danny snarls, arms crossed and throat tight. His mouth pulls back to bare dagger-sharp teeth, and his eyes burn with the familiar thrum of ectoplasm heating up behind his eyes. "If I didn't believe you were half of Vlad before, I do now."

His other self -- and really, can he even call him that? He's half of Vlad too. Two halves severed from each other and welded together to make a new whole, -- snaps his head over to him. Wild-eyed and furious, he looks unlike the man Danny fought before, the one unruffled and untouched, unbothered by the world around him. It's familiar, but not like the way a reflection is.

"What's that supposed to mean." The Other hisses, matching Danny's scowl one-for-one with fangs much bigger and sharper than his.

But there's a reason lions fear hyenas. Danny matches the rumble in The Other's chest with one of his own, and shoves his face close to his. "I don't lose."

[teophan]

a fantastic commission from @themetalhiro of my Dungeons & Devil Fruits 5e Sniper Marksman, Vinsmoke “Starfall Gunner” Beretta!

it was an absolute treat to work with you, looking forward to the next opportunity to do so!

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I cannot wait for this Stan to reconnect with his Ford.

I still haven't figured out HOW exactly they'll meet yet, but I do think that Ford would ATTACH himself to Stanley and talk his ears off forever when they eventually get comfortable :] and Stanley would listen because HOLY SHIT, THAT'S HIS BRO HE HASN'T SEEN FOR 40-ISH YEARS, HE MISSED HIS VOICE. Nonstop certified Yapper & Listener relationship <3

Stanley looks dead faced because of his ingrained poker face, but he's thouroughly enjoying it, even if sometimes he has no idea what the fuck Ford is saying. He never interrupts him though, since he knows people usually ignore or interrupt him mid-talk already. So sometimes Stan gets stuck in awkward situations where he has to leave or do stuff, but also doesn't have it in his heart to stop Ford and extract himself out of a (one-sided) conversation.

[hilacopter]

Setting 2 coexisting facts straight:

- The Palestinian as a distinct Arab identity was largely formed as a response to the establishment of Medinat Yisrael in an effort to justify destroying it, cleansing the Jews and painting Palestinian Arabs as the only true indigenous people to the region. Both Jews and Arabs living here used to be called Palestinians at large, Palestina and Eretz Yisrael were interchangeable names.

- Palestinians as they are now known have been living in the Levant for literal millennia and cleansing or expelling them would be just as unjustified of doing so to the Jews or any other indigenous population of the region and they deserve self determination, label or not.