#and it apparently it only takes a single day for me to forget a whole ass routine

[ok555ficideas]

Neil has amnesia and forgets everything that happened after his first night in Columbia. This is another post of me sharing Neil & Aaron friendship propaganda.

“Can someone tell me, why the f*ck I’m rooming with this a$$hole?” He gestured to Andrew. 

He was met with silence. Every single person in the room looked at Andrew waiting for him to answer. 

Andrew looked bored and like he had no intention of explaining himself. 

“You two are f*cking.” Aaron said. clearly annoyed that he even had to be there. 

There were gasps all over the room and Andrew looked at his brother with a murderous expression. 

Neil laughed. He laughed so hard he almost fell to the floor. The idea of him and Andrew was so ridiculous, he didn’t even know what to say. 

After a minute he managed to calm himself down and looked at Aaron. “I don’t swing.” He said with a snort. 

“Well, apparently you do for him.”

Neil looked back at Andrew. He hated that what Aaron said made absolute sense. That it was making the puzzle that was Andrew a little bit easier to solve. He thought about the need to be close to him, the hand on the back of his neck that brought only comfort. 

He didn’t want to give Andrew the satisfaction. He looked him up and down and said with all the disgust he could master. “It was a lapse in judgment, I see.”

Andrew’s face did something Neil could not interpret, but he took a small victory in knowing that he made Andrew lose control of his expression at least a little bit. 

“I’m sorry, but it seems like you lost a f*ck buddy. You will have to find another one.” He put two of his fingers to his head in a mock salute and went into the bedroom. 

Deep down he knew it wasn’t true. Andrew wouldn’t be at his bedside that first time if that was all they were to each other, but he didn’t want to think about the alternative. 

The next week went by with a blur. Neil was struggling. He didn’t know if all of his dreams were memories or not. He didn’t know who to ask at first, but quickly decided that Aaron was his best option. 

He acted annoyed every time Niel would ask him about something and he didn’t know all the details, but answered Neil’s questions nonetheless. 

It wasn’t because he felt sorry for Neil, but because he had tons of exams and he knew that Neil would bother him until he got his answers. 

One day he seemed to have had enough and snapped his book shut. He looked at Neil and said more annoyed than usual. “ Why do you keep on asking me all of those questions? We are not friends, go bother the people who actually want to talk to you.” 

“You don’t beat around the bush. You are going to tell me what I want to know without worrying if I’ll take it well. That’s what I need. Straightforwardness, not people walking around me on eggshells.” 

Aaron didn’t ask any questions after that and acted even more annoyed. He still answered every single one of Neil's, having to be less and less persuaded. 

link to the whole fic

[calliopechild]

Me, getting slapped extra hard with the depression hammer for the past 2 months couple weeks: Why does everything suck so much lately? Why don't I have any energy or motivation? I know the seasonal depression is waiting in the wings, but the weather's honestly been pretty mild lately.

My vitamin D supplements, gathering dust because I forget they exist if I don't see them: ...gee, wonder why that is, dumbass.

[heavenlyvision]

next time? pairing: Bi-Han x reader wc: 800 warnings: tiniest bit suggestive (only if you squint), idiots, bad flirting, no pronouns or y/n used !! a/n; i wrote this because i was feeling silly and missing him. this is readers poor attempt at flirting with him and Bi-Han's odd and unreadable reactions :3 i just think he's neat !

Craving Bi-han, wanting him close by, wanting to feel his cool flesh pressed close to yours, his breath tickling your ear. It’s all you think about, it’s been haunting you day and night and you don’t know how to deal with it. The powerful need that’s been overwhelming you, it’s infiltrating you in ways that make you look like a complete idiot. Not only is he completely unapproachable but he must think you are some kind of idiot after every interaction you do have with him. It’s becoming too embarrassing, anytime you have to talk with him concerning something, you fumble and mumble and fall all over yourself in general, just from being in front of him.

Every time Liu Kang sends you to talk with Bi-Han on his behalf, you deflate a little, excited to have a reason to speak with him but mostly dreading your awkward and flustered nature. He could kill you on the spot… but he makes you nervous for a whole other reason. It’s getting hard to look him in the eyes when you’ve unfortunately thought about him in much more… compromising positions. Why are you sexualising the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei?

Bi-Han looks down his nose at you, “Get it together.”

Your eyes grow wide, forgetting you actually have to speak for information to be exchanged, “Sorry! I uhm…. Got distracted.”

He doesn’t answer, unamused by how much of his time you’re wasting, he does raise a single brow at you though, still waiting for you to tell him why you’re standing in front of him.

“Oh! Liu Kang asked me to tell you he needs to meet later than he initially said, he’s gotten busy,” you’re shuffling from foot to foot, uncomfortable in front of him, especially since this news is going to piss him off.

You flinch as he groans and his hands move as he asks, “Why? What’s so important he’s made me come all the way here only to wait?” He’s still angry but he drops his hands again, taking note of the way you flinched.

“He… uhh…” you’re trying to think of something to cover for Liu, in all honesty he didn’t tell you why he only told you to tell Bi-Han that he’d have to wait a bit.

“You have no idea, do you?” You shake your head at him and he rolls his eyes, frustration palpable, “What good are you?”

You frown mostly to yourself, “I’m plenty good, it’s not my fault you’re impatient,” you huff. “You will have to wait, like every other human does at least once in their lives,” your words are direct, he’s upset you. You don’t wait for a response from him, instead turning back in the direction you came and walking away hurriedly.

Bi-Han is left standing, surprised by your outburst, not having expected it from you.

⋆⁺₊❅.

When you run into him again, he’s coming back from talking with Liu Kang, seemingly calmed down. You don’t approach him, you stay sitting where you are, waiting for him to pass you by. Instead, he shocks you by standing in front of you, it seems like, he’s always looking down at you.

“I’m not sorry for earlier,” he grumbles at you.

You are confused, mostly because you don’t really care anymore anyways, “…Okay?”

He stands idly for a few moments before asking, “What are you doing?”

You don’t really know how to answer that, so you awkwardly say, “Sitting.”

“You are bad at conversation,” he considers you for a moment before moving to sit next to you on the stone bench.

You guffaw at him, “Me?”

He only offers a simple, “Yes.”

The two of you sit in complete silence, clearly both of you are bad at conversation. You break it first, with possibly the stupidest question you could ask, stupid for so many reasons, “Do you… come here often?”

He eyes you, contemplating for a moment, before deciding not to answer at all. Apparently not deeming it necessary.

Something is apparently possessing you to have loose lips today because you go on to say, “You look… nice today, uh not that you look bad other days, I mean maybe you do but when…when I see you, you look good…uhm…”

It looks like he smirks for a second before it’s gone, “Are you… flirting with me?”

You cringe involuntarily, “I think I might be trying to, yes?”

“Interesting,” he smiles to himself and then stands, “Until next time,” he addresses you by name as he walks away.

What… what the hell was that interaction? What did he mean? Why is your heart racing so hard at seeing his amused smile. You can’t tell if he liked your flirting or thought it was funny how dumb you are. Oh gods, what will he say next time.

⋆⁺₊❅.

[17caratssi]

My darling, honey pt 2 ; Jeon Wonwoo

part 1 is here!

You had been married to your teenage crush for three years and it was a wondrous journey added to the fact you just learned that you'd swallowed a watermelon seed.

Wonwoo was still working his ass off during the weekend and after he returned, you began preparing some light breakfast for him.

While he waited at the suffice dining table and stared at your back, he repeatedly expressed his regret as he was unable to spend the weekend together.

"It's fine. We have a lot of time together, don't dwell on it," you reassured albeit knowing he won't feel any better. Wonwoo became one with the silence and you were already used to it. He never spoke unless it was about you or something you asked for his opinion.

You finished with the cooking and he did the plating. Last night, he worked for only four hours but since he was called in the dawn, he felt sleepy quite a bit and you were the opposite.

As you both were eating, he looked at you oddly. You ceased to stop and raised an eyebrow, indicating your curiosity. "Are you done? Just leave the plate and go resume your sleep,"

Wonwoo shook his head and held your hand. Perhaps his palm was radiating so much warmth, you leaned forward in the coziness. "Hun, do you have something to tell me?" you asked.

Presented with ambivalence, Wonwoo took a minute to reply. He thought deeply before saying, "Don't you think I've been resting a lot these days?"

You could tell he was dourly asking. You have read it somewhere that if the husband loves his wife so dearly, he will experience early pregnancy fatigue rather than the wife. Thinking about how it related to his situation, you grinned.

Wonwoo smiled as if he was entranced by your reaction. He gave a gentle rub on your cheek and patted the back of your hand. He then told you to go upstairs and rest as he helped with the dishes.

You didn't refuse and went as he directed. There was nothing in your brain than the thought of how you should tell Wonwoo about your pregnancy.

While you pondered, he already completed the chore and got himself ready for the shower. Wonwoo looked bushed and you pitied him. After he came out from the wet, you beckoned him to the bed. Since he had changed his clothes inside, he didn't waste any time and ambled to you.

"I have something to tell you,"

Wonwoo hauled your whole body and answered. "Yes?" he was feeling cold and decreased the gap between your bodies. Seeing how comfy he appeared, on impulse, you straddled him and laid on top.

He took a different hint and whispered. "You want it?" Wonwoo asked with apparent lust. You let his hands explore your back but when he was getting dangerously near to your sensitive area, you grabbed his wrist and put a halt to it.

"We can't. Someone will see," you said. Attentively, Wonwoo kissed your neck and mumbled. "The outside? I'll draw the curtain," he sounded titillated and you honestly underestimated your own self-control. It was such a turn-on to see him inflamed but your conscience rushed in.

"No. Not outside but here," you brought his hand to your belly and reposed. Wonwoo didn't quite catch the periphrastic way you were telling but once he realized, the sparkling bright eyes shone even more brilliantly.

"Is it what I think it is?" he asked softly, almost audible. His palm smoothed around your belly and he looked at it. Wonwoo didn't need to ask twice as you clarified his question in a single nod.

You and Wonwoo had waited for 3 years and were confronted with many thrown doubts regarding your fertility. It wasn't something anyone can forget and take it lightly and so you began seeing specialists every few months to check on your body.

At first, Wonwoo did argue with you about it and at one point, you gave him a cold shoulder for a week. He wasn't easy to be persuaded but one day, he followed you for your regular check-up. On the way back, you requested to ride the bus instead. You two came by taxi and Wonwoo has no problem granting your wish.

After you picked your seat, Wonwoo got to his and sat quietly. You were having mixed feelings about today and leaned against your husband. "Are you alright?"

Wonwoo's response was fast but did not answer the question. He kissed your temple and said. "Let me know if you're going to your appointment next time. We'll go together," his mellow voice sang sorrow. You looked up to see his face and there hidden a hint of sadness in his beautiful eyes.

The journey home was blue that day, he knew his love for you was deep but not as much as the worries within.

Wonwoo was used to your prank and all but this news would never be one of them. After many attempts and tears, you two were gifted with a sunny revelation. He let out a light-hearted laugh and announced. "You're pregnant,"

"Y/N, you're pregnant!"

Wonwoo continued to have couvade episodes until the second trimester came by. Your belly swelled later than most women you knew. They told you it was normal for your bump to be small and even your husband assured you there was nothing to fret about.

Once it got bigger, you felt shy to stand bare naked in front of Wonwoo. You even made a fuss when he wanted to shower with you. "No, it's ugly. You will hate it,"

You only earned his grimace and a company for the bath. Wonwoo hissed as he smeared the shower gel over your body. His dissatisfaction was then voiced out, "How can you say this hideous? I'm the hideous one,"

You glared at him and covered his mouth. "Don't say that. It'll make it sound like I don't have a taste for marrying an ugly man," and that had Wonwoo cracked, you followed suit.

Out of blue, you felt something poking behind you. You flicked his head and pinched his waist. Flustered, you sheepishly exposed him. "Why are you getting hard?"

"Ignore that. You're just too sexy and I'm a pervert,"

"Yeah, a pervert," you chuckled with your hands fondling him already.

You and Wonwoo didn't have extensive exercise the whole pregnancy, fear if you'll get hurt. However, one night, you woke him up wanting to do it. He did it so gently that you squirmed around and begged him.

"Go harder.."

"No, honey. You're near due,"

Wonwoo had a hard time practicing abstinence in your later weeks. He hadn't done it for almost a month and he thank God for not testing him too much. Seeing how seductive you acted that night, he went out of his principle and pleased you.

He was feeling bliss all over but you were his priority. He felt the familiar sensation inside you and he smiled. "Come for me," he knew it won't take him long to bring you an orgasm. He kissed your neck and thrust a few times more before he had you ended.

Panting, you loosened your arms around his torso and asked. "Did you come? Don't lie to me,"

Wonwoo was about to tell a lie when you added. He didn't dare to ejaculate inside after he learned that semen can cause contractions. He then flashed an apologetic smile at you. "I can use my hand,"

Wonwoo never used his hands and you've long known. That hurt your heart even more. You pushed him off and got up to wash.

Whether you were pregnant or not, Wonwoo wasn't close to tranquil if you were in the bathroom for a long period. He knocked on the door for the third time and asked if you needed any help but you chose to not answer.

After a while, you finished and silently left the bathroom. The sky was still dark and your husband wasn't in the bed. "Wonwoo?" you called him, slow-voiced.

Where did he go? Is he mad when I threw tantrum just now? You felt conflicted. He rarely let you sleep alone when he's home and now he did. Rather than furious, you wanted to see him.

But even after the nth time of calling him from the room, he still didn't reply. The after-sex effect kicked in and you began to yawn. No sign of Wonwoo getting into bed and you retired soon.

As soon as you hit the pillow, you couldn't open your eyes anymore. Having no desire to resist the sleepiness, you fell asleep and Wonwoo returned home to a sleeping wife.

He put the bag of condoms in the cabinet and properly snuggled against you on the bed. He had taken a shower downstairs before going out but he was afraid you'd wake up to his smell. It happened before and you had him slept on the floor the entire week.

Wonwoo stared at you as you fell deeper into slumber and fixed your position. Your round belly looked adorable and he recalled the moments when you cried because your swollen feet hurt.

He had hurried home that evening and massaged your legs with his uniform on. "Hubby," you sniffed, wanting his attention.

"Yes?"

Your face poker and you stayed silent for a good five minutes until you broke out of character. "I love you," you confessed out of nowhere.

With your nose running with a snort, Wonwoo laughed and hugged you. "Honey, if you keep being like this, I don't know how to survive,"

Wonwoo had lost count of how many times had he rushed home because you called him crying. He was always worried even though he may have an idea of what was happening.

Little things that you do to gain his attention basked him in elation. His love for you has grown impassioned and somehow anticipates the baby to come into this world of his and yours.

Before it reached dawn, Wonwoo was first to feel the wet bed and woke up. In a daze, he didn't quickly stir you but rather checked the ceiling.

However, it was your moaning had his head turned to you, full attention. "The baby- I think the baby's coming," you winced as you spoke. He can tell from your labored breathing that it must hurt.

Fortunately, you had been reminding him to get the maternity bag ready in his car. You were around his arms as he carried your weight to the car and placed you gently in the backseat.

As he drove to the emergency department, you told him you can bear the pain but he wasn't buying. Wonwoo got out and called for a team to attend to you. They instantly brought all the necessary equipment to the vehicle and performed the procedure.

Wonwoo was guided to the registration counter and while you were pushed into the waiting hall, the only thing that kept you conscious at the moment was his arrival.

You wanted him to be by your side so badly and if you suddenly had an emergency labor without him, you honestly would cry.

Perhaps, the baby wished to see his parents immediately, you were out into labor just several hours after that, and Wonwoo was permitted into the room.

The entire process was both scary and exciting for you. On one hand, you fret if you are drained out of energy while pushing the baby out but on the other, your husband was very collected about the whole situation.

"Honey, we can see the head already. Just a little push and we're going to meet our child,"

"I know you can. Grip my hand tighter as you push,"

You didn't know what was along his sentence that moved you but tears ran down your face and you made your last exertion in his presence.

The loud wailing was an end to your suffering. Wonwoo stayed with you and only when the midwives called to cut the umbilical cord he came about.

Days after you had the little one downright changed but Wonwoo never stopped giving his unreserved attention to both of you. He would promptly take care of the child in the middle of the night since you'd had it in the morning when he was out to work.

It was a challenging period as it was Wonwoo's first experience as a father. He took a lot of advice from his parents and other people and in the blink of an eye, the child is now two years old.

At first, many said that the baby took your features but he seemed to be the carbon copy of his father. His first word was 'mummy' but all he called now was 'daddy'.

"Daddy, pick me,"

"Daddy, toys,"

Daddy here, daddy there. You couldn't help but feel bitter inside. You and Wonwoo did spend equal time with your son but his blatant preference made you green. But maybe part of him inherited from how clingy you were to your husband. “He’s just like you, Y/N,”

He gifted a peck on your jaw and smiled softly. Suddenly, a voice from the little one chimed in. “Mummy, no!” and cause a rupture of laughter from the adults. You teased him by giving his favorite person more kisses. “Daddy’s mine,”

Wonwoo will never have this memory faded. He’s glad that you confessed to him that day.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

If you like this story, you might as well check out the others here !

[linnamonrolls0]

The Winner Takes It All

LMM!Hermes x Reader

Summary:

“devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more…”

You accidentally find your way into the Lotus Casino, where a certain Greek god takes a keen interest in a game of poker, a sweet deal, and… you.

Rating: Mature

Words: 4,480

A/N:

I wasn’t gonna write this… until I saw some hater saying they’d [redacted] if they saw a LMM!Hermes x Reader fic show up - so naturally, being the disastrous Lin simp that I am, I HAD TO DO IT. After all, learning from the best in proving the naysayers wrong…

A lot of this was written pre-episode, allow it with a few inconsistencies and a lot of research-induced additions!

Mixtape... bloop - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6v2ZfRamJRh8eP6qOqz4ND

Chapter 1: When The Chips Are Down

Contrary to popular belief, apparently it is possible to get lost in Las Vegas.

You were only strolling the Strip with a group of friends on the last day of your whirlwind vacation, but soon enough you found yourself at a dead end, unsure of what turn you’d even taken to get there. 

Hoping to locate a restroom and some means of connectivity to contact your friends, you beelined for the nearest building, flashily labelled the Lotus Hotel and Casino: upon glancing upward, you were met with the sight of a forty-storey tower, with a wide open entrance marked by a blooming neon-bright lotus flower in front of you. It was the sort of place you would expect to be buzzing with life, but oddly enough nary a soul lingered by the shining silver doors; just stillness and silence, save for the muffled music pounding from somewhere inside.

Though you felt overwhelmingly uneasy, that entrance carried a strange magnetism that compelled you to step inside. Something that suggested all your fear would be put to rest the moment you walked through those doors… or into that flower, at least.

You tucked your hands under your sleeves and drew in a deep breath, before you crossed the petalled threshold into an opulent lobby decorated with lotus plants in intricately designed pots and inviting plush couches around the circular hall. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the Nevada summer heat, and the whole place seemed to glow in a dark shade of pink. 

You immediately felt an invisible weight ease off of your shoulders as you entered… What had you come here to look for, again?

Right, a phone charger and somewhere to pee. Of course, basic human necessities, how could you forget those so quickly?

Interrupting your line of thought, you paused in your tracks when a tall Barbie doll materialised in front of you, dressed in bright pink from head to toe; upon first glance she looked like some sort of projection, as though she wasn’t real at all.

“Welcome to the Lotus Hotel and Casino,” she greeted you in an almost robotic voice, with a plastic smile stretched across her face, holding out a shimmering green card. “Here’s your Cash Card, have a great time!”

“Cash… what? Do I have to pay for this?” you stuttered, confused beyond belief as you took the card. What was this place?

“No, not a penny!” She shook her head; not a single strand of her perfectly coiffed blonde hair shifted out of place. “Would you like a tour? Here, have a drink. Only the best in the world here!” 

She offered you a glass goblet, filled to the brim with a dark maroon liquid and topped with blueberries, bearing the same eerie magnetism as the doors had done minutes before. You eyed the drink dubiously, brows furrowed as you sniffed it in a futile attempt to ascertain what exactly it was.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you politely declined, “What is—”

But before you could finish your question, the Barbie doll had disappeared as suddenly as she’d arrived, and the moment you sipped the strong floral drink, your questions completely evaporated.

Following your curiosity, you craned your neck and looked up to see endless floors lined with rooms and doors and glass balconies, with a pair of glass elevators in the middle. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if the great glass elevator could shoot through the ceiling like something out of a children’s book.

At least there were more people in here, though you were certain they too had just appeared as if by magic; not acknowledging you at all, they milled about in the lobby and outside the doors to the casino, beside to what appeared to be an arcade full of excited children playing classic and modern video games alike. Regardless of age, all the guests were clad in fancy-dress costumes; you figured perhaps there was an event taking place that had its attendees reflecting different eras of fashion. Wouldn’t be unusual for this town, everyone was dressed crazy and after three days traversing Sin City’s myriad clubs and casinos, nothing fazed you - or perhaps the effects of whatever you’d taken at that club last night still hadn’t fully worn off, who knew…

Still in a bit of a daze, you floated toward the immense double doors leading to the Casino, already hearing the jingling of slot machines singing proud over the pounding pop beats as their backing track.

The casino was lit by ornate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, deliberately dimmed to give way to the bright, flashing lights of the various gaming machines assembled around the hall, surrounding a set of card tables in its centre. Chatter and laughter filled the room and people crowded around the tables, playing without a care in the world and having the time of their lives; everyone seemed to have a goblet in hand and a cash card in the other, not dissimilar to your current state. It was warmer in here, though still comfortable enough that you could breathe… Just about.

You wandered through and your attention was glued to a game of roulette at a table beside you, where a couple had just won who knows what, when you were interrupted by a greeting that you just somehow knew was directed at you.

“Well, hello, there,” you heard in a smooth, low tenor behind you.

You whirled around on your heel to be met by… a guy. Literally just a guy, casually leaning on his gorgeously tanned forearms on a nearby craps table, aimlessly toying with a pair of dice in his left hand as he gazed over at you. He was certainly easy on the eyes with his vaguely familiar but handsome face, a mischievous little smirk on his lips, and pretty brown eyes that sparkled in the flashing lights… There was something about those eyes that drew you in. And for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away…

He looked like the most normal person in the room, but he seemed entirely out of place, given that everyone else was dressed to the nines - meanwhile he wore a comfy tan hoodie and sweatpants set, as if he perhaps owned it all and subsequently had no rules to follow in this already-lawless land. When he stepped around his table to approach you, he certainly did swagger around like he ruled the place, and his companions nearby looked at him like they worshipped the ground he walked on. Perhaps he was important, but how were you to know?

“You come here often?” he flirted, just about the most awful pickup line imaginable, but you were past the point of questioning why it still sounded attractive.

How had you ended up here, anyway? Hell knew… But this was Sin City, after all; a little harmless flirting could do you no harm, surely… 

“Nope, never been here before. But weirdly, I don’t want to leave…” you shrugged, taking another sip of that strangely addictive drink.

“Sounds about right, Miss…”

“[Y/N],” you offered casually, uncharacteristically not hesitant.

“Pleasure to meet you…” he said with a playful lilt to his tone, holding out a hand, “They call me Hermes.”

When you shook his hand, for a split second you could’ve sworn you weren’t there anymore - when his smooth hand held yours, something akin to a firework went off inside your mind, and you’d put it down to just sparks if not for the phantom breeze you felt just then, a gust that nearly knocked you off your feet.

You couldn’t place what it was, exactly, but there was something strange about this man. He bore an almost otherworldly quality, as though he wasn’t human at all… But how could he be anything else? Come to think of it, there was a similarly supernatural energy about the casino itself; no wonder he fit right in to this weird wonderland.

“What, you got a Birkin in your back pocket or something, Mr Hermes?” you laughed, trying to shake off that odd suspicion, only to be met by his indignant scowl. Even that was cute.

“And what business do you have with my back pockets?” he teased, tucking one hand into the front pocket of his hoodie, to which you raised an intrigued brow.

You shrugged, nonchalant, still reeling from that strange feeling. “Nothing yet, but perhaps I’d like to find out…”

“Obviously I do not, but I could hook you up.” The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, least of all when Hermes smirked, that patented brand of mischief you were quickly growing quite fond of as he swaggered across to the card table; the players welcomed him back gladly. “Care for a game?” he asked, seemingly winning one without even paying attention to it as he rolled the dice carelessly onto the table that stood between you.

As he retrieved the dice, you eyed his hands curiously; they could only be described as pretty, as though he might be a pianist or… an artist of some description. He had his sleeves rolled back and a gold-plated Rolex glimmered on one wrist, a chunky gold chain-link bracelet on the other, and something about that on him was distractingly attractive. It all screamed money, despite his casual tracksuit getup, which would’ve been nothing special if it didn’t look so needlessly expensive in itself. You absently wondered what that obscure tattoo on his ring finger meant, for surely it couldn’t imply he might be taken…

“It’s not like you have anything to lose,” Hermes commented, interrupting your line of thought as he set a few chips down on the table and retrieved his own green Cash Card from his pocket, holding it up to show you. So everyone had them; then, what was the point?

Oh, right. You likely couldn’t do anything with the money outside, so, go figure it was an unlimited free pass.

“I guess I’m in. After all, what you gonna do when the chips are down?” you quoted a challenge, holding your own smug look at the recognition in his eyes.

“I see you speak my language…” he teased, “Even if those aren’t exactly my words.”

“Funny you should mention that. Has anyone ever told you you look a bit like Lin-Manuel Miranda?”

“So I’ve been told! Though, I think the correct expression would be that he looks like me. Same difference, he’s me, I’m him, whatever.” He waved a flippant hand, as if instructing you to ask no further questions on the topic.

“Gotcha…” You laughed, putting this all down to a wacky dream by now as you joined him by the card table. “What is this, anyway?” you asked him, raising your goblet in his general direction. He was the only person here without one, which didn’t entirely make sense to you, even in the logic of twisted fever dreams.

“Raise a glass to freedom… and throw it the fuck away,” he sang with a laugh, “Seriously, though, that’s a little addictive psychedelic beverage called blue lotus wine. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t drink a drop.”

“And what if I already did?”

“Well, then you’re well and truly screwed…” Hermes grinned, mischief dancing in his dark brown eyes. He swiped the half-full glass out of your hand and knocked back the remainder of the wine in one quick gulp, his gaze never leaving yours as he deposited the empty glass on a tray carried away by one of those apparating Barbie waitresses. “And now, so am I.”

He waved over another waitress and grabbed two new glasses of wine off her tray, politely handing one to you. He brought his glass to his lips, slowly sipping at the wine as you eyed his hand wrapped around the glass, absently wondering what that seemingly delicate touch would feel like on you… There was no reason why the simple act of this man drinking hallucinatory wine should’ve been remotely sexy, but you could say the same for him in general; this shouldn’t work, but god damn, it does.

“Was that really the best idea if it’s—” you began, and he quickly cut in.

“Absolutely not, no, but if you come here to forget, you may as well do it right…” Hermes sighed, a momentary flash of resignation in his stance as he briefly let his shoulders droop. “Anyway, whatever, fuck real life. Let’s play?” he offered, running a hand through his dark hair, seemingly shaking himself out of the memory of whatever haunting reality had led him here. As a matter of fact, what had led you here?

“Sure,” you smiled, “What are we playing? I’m pretty sure I saw an arcade on my way in…”

“Come on, there’s no stakes in that! This is where the real fun’s at,” he said with a light laugh, gesturing to the craps table in front of you.

“Speak for yourself. I’ll have you know, I’m amazing at air hockey!”

“Yeah? I’m a killer at the claw machine, so go figure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Cute. Shame they don’t have an escape room.”

“Just as well, I’ve always been a little too good with locks… Besides, this place itself is an escape room. Only, there’s no escape…”

“Wait, what?”

“Because… You want to stay, right? What’s waiting for you outside?”

Suddenly, you found yourself struggling to answer his question. Where barely a few moments ago, everything had been so clear, now you could see a hazy cloud inside your mind as you desperately searched for the answer to no avail, almost as though that hallucinogen was beginning to hit hard… 

“Outside? What’s outside? I — I could stay here — You’re… Huh?” you stuttered, “I don’t know where else I’d go.”

Hermes sighed, glancing over at you. “Literally anywhere but here.”

“Sorry?” you questioned, brows furrowed. Had you misread his signals?

“Walk with me,” he offered, and so you obliged as he stepped towards you again. You followed his lead as he strolled on within the confines of the casino, glancing surreptitiously around as though making sure you weren’t being eavesdropped on - though you could only wonder why.

“Alright, I don’t normally do this…” he drawled, “But for some reason I’m taking a liking towards you; and all trickery aside, I don’t take unfair advantage, so here’s the secret. You ever heard of Odysseus and the Lotus Eaters?” he asked seriously; you nodded your assurance. “Well, this place is kinda like their island… Only, now it’s here in the modern world, and what better place for it than Sin City? Hence the lightness in the air and the endless supply of blue lotus wine…”

You eyed him curiously, willing him to go on and trying not to focus on his initial confession. “I guess that explains a lot. So this is… eternal psychedelic bliss?”

“Yep, that good old adrenaline and dopamine rush, forever and ever and everrrrr… Half of Olympus has tried to claim it, but nobody really knows whose work of chaotic genius this was.” He shrugged nonchalantly, not at all like he was explaining such an outlandish concept. “When you’re in a casino, time just seems to work differently - and just like that, time moves at its own distorted pace in here. Lost travellers often find their way into this place, it has that draw when you stray off your path - and that’s why I hang out here, not just to wander astray from my own shit, but to guide you back to yours. I’m not immune to this,” he raised his glass, gesturing to the wine, “But I can handle the air just fine, unlike most mortals…”

“And what if I want to get lost?” you challenged, plucking his glass out of his hand, holding his gaze as you brought the drink to your lips. His gaze remained fixed on you as he bit his own lip, his eyes flickering to your lips for a millisecond as you sipped the wine; thirsty, not dissimilar to the way you’d been eyeing him mere seconds ago.

“Mmkay, lucky for you, I have some semblance of sense about me,” Hermes said, stopping by a poker table nearby, where the players immediately cleared a spot for the pair of you. Entirely nonchalant, he swiped a deck of cards off the table, expertly shuffling it as he spoke, “So win the next deal, and I’ll get you out of here.”

“So if I lose, I’m stuck in here?” you attempted to clarify the stakes, trying not to get distracted as you watched him shuffle those cards. Hell, he had such pretty hands, what else could you do but wonder what else he could do with them?

“Pretty much.”

“And what if I ask for a better deal?”

“Better than having your real life back?”

“Yep.”

“Try me…”

“Okay. If I win, my prize is you.”

“Me? What’s the catch?”

“Nothing. Just, you and me, until not even the gods above can separate the two of us,” you teased, peak dramatic, somewhere between flirting and floating. You could get used to this, the weightless feeling of flight…

Hermes quirked a brow at you, undeniably amused. “Interesting thought, given that I’m… well, not above, per se, but one of them.”

“You’re… what now?” You tilted your head to one side, looking curiously across at him. What in the world was he on about?

He shot you a pointed stare, isn’t it obvious? But it wasn’t, until now… when it all began to make sense, slowly: what this place was, how he knew so much about it, why he had a more heightened sense of awareness despite the inherent hypnotism of the literal and metaphorical lotus flower you’d stepped into… And he could guide lost travellers out. Your jaw dropped as your hand flew to your mouth when it finally dawned upon you who and what he was, and what that entailed —

And out loud, all you could manage was a whisper; “Oh, my god…”

The Greek god in front of you heaved a dramatic sigh, aiming a playful eye-roll in your direction. “Please, like I haven’t heard that one before,” he chuckled lightly, the sarcasm heavy in his tone.

And so you let him deal your hand and you played, stopping every so often to laugh, for Hermes was surprisingly fun to be around and perhaps staying here with him wouldn’t be so bad… Only, this couldn’t be his permanent residence. He was the god of travel, it made sense that he never hung around one place long enough to settle. It was obvious he had a natural charisma about him that clearly worked in his favour more than once; and not that it really mattered, but you absently wondered how many like you had crossed paths with him before, and the past baggage he’d been trying to forget was certainly not lost on you…

He had his right arm slung casually around your shoulder, his left occupied by his cards, not caring if you could see them. You tried your level best to stay focused; for you were feeling a little lightheaded by now, a combination of the wine and the strong scent of his cologne… He was close, enough that you could pick up the gentle sweet notes beneath the woody cedar scent he wore.

“All in?” you suggested, nudging your chips toward the centre of the table, glancing up at the literal god beside you.

“I am if you are,” Hermes smirked, pushing his own ridiculous amount of chips into the pot beside yours.

The game went on; and as if out of nowhere, thanks to a sudden turn in your luck and a surprise royal flush - which if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve attributed to him - you had finally won. Caught up in the daze, you stepped up onto your toes and threw your arms around his neck in an excited hug. He was momentarily taken aback by it, but quickly regained enough composure to gently wrap his arms around you. His soft touch bore a pleasantly startling contrast to his mischievous demeanour, and you found yourself not wanting to let go.

“Well played…” he congratulated you in that same teasing tone as he gently drew you back, briefly glancing at his watch and tapping two fingers against the side of the dial.

Perhaps you would’ve wondered why, but spurred on by your victory and high off the adrenaline, you hooked one finger in the gold chain around his neck and gently tugged at it to urge him closer, until the distance between you was barely a hair’s breadth. You could feel the warmth radiating off him in waves, his intense cologne flooding your senses. And suddenly it didn’t faze you that you were in public, and you paid no mind to the way all his casino companions were frozen around you instead of continuing their games… Suddenly, all you wanted was him. 

Was it blasphemous to lust after a god?

Hell, you could deal with the consequences of that later, for right now, his magnetism was pulling you in and you couldn’t bear to look away from those deep, dark brown eyes… Until Hermes leant closer to you and his soft lips brushed yours as he spoke, barely above a whisper yet you could hear him clearly despite the noise, “Not at all…”

Your breathing hitched, at his comment, at his proximity, at… everything about this. How the fuck did he know what you’d been thinking? 

Perhaps you’d dwell on that longer, but just then he reached up to cup your cheek. Though unexpectedly tender, his touch was white hot where his skin met yours, but pleasurably so as you let yourself get lost in it, in him… He pressed his lips to yours in two delicate little pecks, clearly just teasing, and you just about caught sight of his smirk before you stepped up onto your toes to kiss him again, for real this time. His other hand smoothly dropped to your waist, holding you against him and you pulled at his chain with your finger still caught in it, curling your other fist in the soft cotton of his hoodie.

Apparently, even the gods weren’t immune to carnal need, and Hermes was evidently faring no better than you; he gave in to the kiss quickly, all but melting into you, his tongue swiping insistently at your bottom lip, and you weren’t about to stop him. You parted your lips for him, granting him access instead of prolonging this teasing that had left you both desperate. He tasted of something indescribably sweet, mixed with the rich taste of the blue lotus wine that you’d both downed not so long ago, and you already knew he was a far better intoxicant than any drink you’d find here… As he deepened the kiss, his tongue brazenly tasting yours, borderline hungry; you saw a flash of light behind your eyelids, gripped by the feeling that you were flying, all for a mere moment before you became hyperaware of his heated touch and the fact that your feet were still firmly planted on the soft floral-patterned carpet of the casino.

It felt like time had frozen, the world had stopped around you, and nothing mattered except for him and you and the most perfect kiss you’d ever had…

But somehow, instead of clouding your thoughts like you’d expected, you drew back from his kiss with some clarity. Hermes had told you he could never lose. So why, then, had you just managed to win this? You were no expert when it came to these games, and he was clearly a well-seasoned gambling master… Had the notorious trickster god manipulated the deal in your favour? Had he purposely thrown this away for you?

The glimmer in his eyes only looked brighter as you separated, yet somehow those deep browns looked darker, lust clearly getting the better of him; and he made no effort to hide it, despite his small smile and the lightest hint of a blush on his cheeks. You were fairly sure you mirrored it all, and you were in no hurry to let him go…

Only, as the world began to come back into focus, you realised time really had stopped around you: everything and everyone in the casino was frozen, and you glanced up at the god in front of you with a mix of curiosity and fear in your eyes. “When you said you could stop time…” you began, still in disbelief.

Hermes nodded slowly, meeting your gaze with that characteristic smirk. “Yeah, I meant that literally. I may have had a running out of time crisis once, hence… this stolen life-saver,” he explained, raising his wrist to show you his watch - now upon closer inspection, you realised the hour, minute and second hands all pointed to 12, and he hovered a finger over a button at the side of the dial. “It’s up to you. Want me to bring it back?”

You shook your head. Not only did that beautiful gold timepiece look unfairly gorgeous on his wrist; it also held a piece of magic that could be incredibly useful… “No,” you whispered, “I’m in no hurry. Let’s make this last…”

You tilted your chin up towards him again, and he obliged you with another sweet little kiss. “Well, then… Perhaps I could show you some of the wonders of existing beyond space and time…” he murmured, “What d’you say to that?”

“I say, make time stop for us a little longer. Take me to another world, Hermes…”

The look he shot you just then, could’ve brought you to your knees on the spot - somehow you just knew he was fixated on the sound of his name as you whispered it, and you wondered how he could make you feel that just from a simple touch.

“C’mon, sweetheart; let’s get out of here,” Hermes suggested, offering you an arm; you linked your arm through his as he tapped the side of his watch, resuming the world around you as if it had never paused at all. 

You gazed up at him in awe as he led you out of the casino, back to the lobby and towards the opening of the blooming flower you’d walked in through. The humid summer air hit you both as you stepped outside together, thereby breaking the spell - but you were still captivated by him, regardless. He briefly let go of you to do away with his warm hoodie, leaving him in just a fitted white t-shirt that had no business looking so goddamn gorgeous on him.

You couldn’t help but smile as he hummed softly in your ear, “There’s a place I know in a nearby park…”

Part 2 via AO3 (blasphemous smut ahead)

[fanficsbyme-causeimgay]

Disclaimer: Image this in the Van Helsing werewolf design, please. I love that movie.

Imagine, if you will, the full moon.

Now— you were never superstitious or believed in the supernatural, but when it is running at you on all fours in the darkness of the street, with sharp white teeth and with a single red glowing eye? Then, you do believe in the supernatural. So you do the sensible thing: You forget about putting the trash out, closes the door, and says, "Nope!" Before simply locking all doors and windows.

You stay in your room, door locked and under the blankets, just to make sure nothing bad could get you— After all, monsters don't fuck with you if you got a blanket on, that's the rules! You ignore the weird whining sounds and the weird scratching sounds, and fear gives way to tiredness once the adrenaline fades away.

You wake up the next day, believing the whole thing to be a nightmare, a figment of your masochistic mind paying tricks on you.

Werewolves don't exist!

But neighbors do. And you got a new one!

The first time you met was just a tiny little bit surprising, but normal when context was given— His dog ran into your porch. He had this beautiful Black Labrador that had a harness that read [Service Dog] on it, and her collar had [Leyla] written on it. And she was looking for something? She was sniffing everything around. Apparently, she was a new dog and was still being trained, which explained a lot about her behavior.

"Oh, hi- I apologize for Leyla!" He was tall. Definitely taller than you. Maybe 6'6? The most striking thing about his appearance was the eyepatch on his left eye, a plain black one. He walked with a limp and had a darkish green jacket over a plain white shirt and tight shorts. "I'm your new neighbor, Kata." And oh, his voice was just like the best thing you've heard - It was beautiful.

You soon find out that he used to be in the military. He worked closely with the K-9 bomb-sniffing unit to help clean the fields, and sadly, a newly trained dog missed one of the bombs, which led to his incident. He seemed pretty open and sincere when speaking about his experience as a veteran, not shy to express and answer your questions even going further and above.

When asked why, he simply answered: "You just wanted to learn more about me, so I taught you more." With a smile that was, honestly, quite breath taking.

Regardless of your little interactions, nothing seemed to be going on - much to your dismay - because he was clearly very hot and showed interest in you. Maybe it was the "don't ask don't tell" thing that the military has? You felt silly thinking about it, mostly because he never showed clear interest, so you decided not to assume anything of it.

In truth, however, he was unhealthy obsessed with you. He was constantly spending hours of his day listening to your breathing, to your heartbeat, to your little noises that you weren't even aware you made! Did you know you have this habit of clicking your tongue when you're playing games and sometimes something you didn't want to happen happens? Did you know you hum the sound of commercial jingles sometimes? Did you know that when you're asleep, you're quite vocal about your dreams, even if what you're saying doesn't make any sense? Did you know you smell like soft petrichor mixed with tulips and brown sugar when you're relaxed? Did you know he likes to watch you sleep from the window? Did you know that sometimes he breaks into your room while you're asleep and just stands beside you? Did you know he can't control it?

It's in his very nature.

Like humans can't help but breathe, tell stories, eat, and lie - Werewolves can't help but obsess over their Mates. Their Soulmates. Their one and only. Their destined - Call it what you will, but he loves you in ways you can't ever hope to understand... He wants you so badly, you should be happy he isn't laying it thick on you, that he is controlling himself to not jump you and fuck you everywhere, that-

Oh.

The full moon is here.

It happened really easily. You were asleep when you heard a pretty clear and rough sound of snoring, alongside the heavy weight of an arm on you, a weird, smooth, and wet sensation on your neck, and the heat of a body hugging you from behind. You couldn't move your body. Was this sleep paralysis? You look down and see arms of black fur holding you tight, and although you're confused, your mind finds reason: This is just a dream.

Oh, a dream! Of course this is a dream.

You huff... This might not be the exact first time you've dreamed of a big werewolf man and probably won't be the last! What? They're hot!

What was hotter, however, was waking up with a naked man in your bed. It was a shock at first, mostly because you're pretty sure you didn't have Kata sleeping in your bed last night...? Right? Was the dream about the werewolf his brain making up something to summarize or excuse Kata's presence in his bed? Dreams do that sometimes... But hey, looking at that dick was more than enough to make you forget about his presence for a few moments - It was, uhm, quite big.

"My eyes are up here..." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and like his tone of voice, he was looking very smugly at you: "Well, eye. Singular." He chuckled at his own words, poiting at his lack of eye - In fact, an unnaturally dark hole was there, almost like darkness originated from it.

You ask him what he is doing in your bed. Naked as the day he was born - but much, much hotter (and legal!)

And that is when he drops the ball.

So... as it turns out, werewolves are real... And they soulmates, and you are Kata's soulmate... Although overwhelmed at first, curiosity overwhelms you because of the fucking implications. What else is real? Magic? Fairies? Wizards!? Do they go to walmart!? Also, do werewolves follow normal wolf biology - Can they smell really far, hear really well, and do they mate for life too? And, also, do they have knots? As a rather curious person, you asked them.

"Well... I can show you." He replied, taking your hand for a moment and hesitating: "I-if you want?" He was rather nervous - the truth is, although he seemed confident, he was quite nervous. A wolf needs to be strong for their Mate. What about him? He is crippled. He is weak. He isn't good enough...

"...show me." Although a bit oblivious to flirting, you wouldn't say no to this.

As it turns out, werewolves do, in fact, have knots. And they can knot even in human form!

[kr-han]

HiGH&LOW Random Fun Facts That You May Not Know

Disclaimer: SWORD only and the list is so random, so bear with me.

Cobra loves cupcakes, he probably has sweet tooth.

Cobra styles his hair according to his mood (not like bad or good but more like he's fired up enough or not).

Cobra has A LOT of red clothing. His real name is Hino Junpei (緋野盾兵) and the first character which is 緋 can also be read as aka which means red or scarlet.

He loves Antonio Inoki (a pro-wrestler) so much and make it his whole personality (including his red scarf).

When Cobra is drunk, he would shout, "Inoki-san, genki desuka!?". In MUGEN era, he would do it with Kohaku for the rest of the night.

Cobra admires Kohaku so much because he thinks Kohaku resembles Antonio Inoki.

Cobra has small appetite not even 1/10 of Yamato's. But he eats cupcakes.

Cobra can't draw.

Cobra didn't use sticker on LINE (the messanger).

Cobra and Yamato can't speak English. They're probably the type who'd say, "We're Japanese we don't need English!"

Yamato is afraid of cats. The reason is cat can get long.

Yamato's insult never sounds like one.

Noboru favorite food is sea cucumber. He's sea cucumber maniac.

According to Cobra Noboru type is a girl with glasses.

Dan on the other hand, can draw well. But he can't draw woman.

Rocky is a little clumsy, he forgot small things like key.

Hyuga always sleeps whenever there's no fighting nor something exciting to do.

Murayama loves corndog.

Murayama dislikes sharing his food.

G-SWORD's leaders alcohol tolerance: Cobra is rather low, Rocky is rather high, Murayama prefer to eat than drink (but according to Nakazono, Murayama didn't make any different when he's drinking or not), Hyuga prefer to sleep than anything else, and Smoky can't.

According to Kizzy, Rocky becomes a foolish/idiotic old man when he's drunk. Kizzy also said, "When he's drunk, he got no dignity whatsoever."

Murayama's favorite alcohol beverage is ryokucha-hai (which a combination of green tea and shochu. Might be wrong though, you can search: 緑茶ハイ).

Hyuga's favorite alcohol beverage is shochu.

When Oya part timer go to karaoke, they sing girl idols' songs.

Masaki do all the house chores in Amamiya's households from cleaning up to cooking.

Hiroto's favorite food is curry.

When Hiroto cooks, he only cooks curry.

Takeru is forgetful. Masaki has to remind him all the time. Hiroto? He waits to be petted by his aniki.

Kaito and Kizzy have a couple ring and they use it as necklace.

In HiGH&LOW The Movie, Kaito and Kizzy joined the fight but there's no single footage of them fighting. But they appeared before the fight and after the fight with some bruises.

From End of Sky to Final Mission, Cobra didn't wear his red scarf anymore.

Despite using his red scarf as a personality, Cobra didn't use it to fight beside for his character introduction scene in episode 1.

Ichigo Milk has been inviting Naomi to join them, but Naomi refuses due to Itokan. She wants to take care what's left by her brother.

Naomi can actually beat dudes.

Murayama keeps the strawberry bag from Oshiage and he uses it as a pillow.

Ice gave Sarah a teddy bear (and a necklace).

Ice can cook and according to Mighty Warriors' member, Ice's curry tasted like seafood when he uses zero seafood ingredients. Apparently, it matched the actor's fun fact: Elly's curry always tasted like he put seafood in it even when he's not.

There was once, Seki dressed up in sailor uniform for karaoke. Of course, they sing girl idols' songs.

Toutetsu brothers cook for Hyuga, but he sleeps almost all day long, so Katou needs to wake him up just to eat.

Ukyou cooks better than Sakyou.

Ukyou needs to separate Daruma's income into envelopes and hide them because if not, Hyuga would splurge the income into zero. Hyuga can't manage money.

Lala reads books for the kids in Mumeigai, and they literally have reading time with Lala.

Furuya has truck driver's license.

Murayama durability is top notch and it resemble his given name which is Yoshiki. His full name written like this 村山良樹 and Yoshiki (良樹) is consist of characters that mean good or skilled, and trees or wood. He's a skilled trees or wood, or whatever but that clearly means that his durability is on another level. That's why he could bear the 100 punches challenge and still fight back after that.

Hiroto and Smoky loves cat.

Murayama talked to a cat. (He's cat, but also puppy; whatever he's cute).

Murayama introduced Todoroki to Cobra in person.

Murayama has 4 vans' shoes and a pair of converse. (Haven't count how many jackets he has though, might count it when I rewatch).

At least, Tsukumo has been hit by the car twice. He should avoid getting near cars. No cars near him, please.

White Rascals' outfit are all white and it's hard to keep it clean. The visual line (Shimura, Bito, Aizawa, and Enari) has a hard time because they spend so much money for laundry and cleaning. Little did they know, Rocky actually could paid 80% of their cleaning cost. But Rocky didn't say it to them because he knows that they would be worried about how to pay Rocky back. (Rocky is so sweet). Probably the only guys that use this privilege only Koo and Kaito.

Rocky paid 100% of the girls' laundry and cleaning cost (including Kizzy).

Rocky's surname, Mutsugi, is actually a word play. It's written as 六ツ木 in Japanese. Which the character 六 can be read as mutsu (mu for short) or roku (ro for short) and it means six; ツ is a katakana for tsu and in hiragana it's written like this つ. When tsu is written small in between characters (it's called sokuon) like っ/ッ it purposes is to geminate the next character; and 木 is ki and it means tree. If we put them together and make the tsu as sokuon, we'll get 六ッ木 which read as ろっき in hiragana and ロッキ in katakana (both are rokki) we got his name, Rocky (ロッキー).

Source: rewatching the series and the movies over and over again so I can get into the useful but also useless facts, and the g-sword manga by CLAMP. If you want to read HiGH&LOW g-sword manga by CLAMP you can read HERE for English translation or DI SINI untuk translasi Bahasa Indonesia. Note: Might add more if I find or remember more. Also, I'm sorry there's too much Cobra, can't help though, I love him a little bit too much.

MORE OF IT

[twisted-dreamscape]

Twisted Wonderland

Reader with Magic from Another World

One of my favourite concepts to play around with in Twisted Wonderland is the idea that by their world’s standards the prefect doesn’t have magic, but comes from a world with a different magic system—I can be a bit lenient with how some systems work more than others. For example:

Winx (Believix, ‘cause it’s a magic for fairies in places where people do not believe in magic-in this case it’s the specific brand of magic the prefect uses)

No one believed you. Your rounded ears and distinctly human eyes and teeth did nothing to help your case—forget your apparent lack of magical capabilities. It was no surprise that not a single person believed you when you claimed to be a fairy. You found that for some reason, you were unable to transform in this world, which made it impossible to prove you were a fairy if you were entirely unable to transform into one. But you remained determined, and what abilities you retained outside of your core transformation, namely visions of people’s past and visions of the great seven, helped you carve a different place in this world regardless. Through your efforts, insights and general willingness to help others, enough people started to believe there was at least something more to you.

It’s in a moment of crisis, when your selflessness sees you placing yourself in harm's way, taking a risk that was not asked of you and leaving the boy you protected racked with guilt.

While the others were fighting back the Titan Earth, another phantom charged at Epel from the shadows. There was no room for the others to act, but you could. You raised the weapon you swiped before descending into Tartarus and slashed and stabbed at the creature, but it held your weapon in its fading body while another went careening into you, knocking your little scuffle over the edge.

The seniors could only listen on as you fell, the phantom before them leaving no room for distraction. When the Titan was pushed back, it was already too late.

“You said you were a fairy, you said you could fly, you said you were a better flier than me. Then, fly!” Epel stood rooted to the spot where you stood, but despite what they saw, he, Rook and Vil wanted to believe you were something more, something that could survive that hit, survive that fall and the Titan that followed; it was then that you were able to unlock your Believix wings.

It was a whole new form you had never encountered in your dimension, but you once heard of fairies from Alfea that restored magic in a long separated planet. It felt good to access your magic again, even though you may never reach Enchantix as long as you were stuck here, you were still happy you could help out your friends—it also felt good to prove everyone else wrong.

With your newly gained powers you were able to participate in classes like your other classmates, but only when transformed, unlike at home, which was…an experience. Flight class was especially interesting since you didn’t particularly need a broom, even less so if you wanted to fly quickly. Application of lessons weren’t exactly a one-to-one application but they inspired you to try things you had yet to study in your home dimension. Maybe with practice you could one day be strong enough to open a way between your worlds.

Fairy Tail (It’s funnier if the prefect is some form of Dragon-slayer)

“HOW DARE YOU!” Sebek immediately placed himself between you and Malleus, although more troubling was the way Silver followed his lead; but even worse yet was the look of hurt that settled on your friend’s face. It was one thing to title yourself a dragon slayer, but to withhold this fact and sneak your way into his good graces…evil. You were ecstatic when you learned your friend was a dragon—‘a kindred spirit’ you thought—so you eagerly revealed what you are.

Malleus was silent and Sebek was anything but, chastising your horrid character, while Silver hoped you would change your ways. You hurriedly explain what a 1st generation dragon slayer is in your world—a human trained in the ways of a dragon—and that you were in fact raised by said dragon! And Malleus was now also ecstatic! Although Sebek was still wary, Malleus needed to know everything about you and your draconic parentage! He’s surprised by how limited your magic is compared to his, but just as surprised that you can eat the element you’re limited to! He consoles you over the disappearance of your parental figure and welcomes you as family.

The age old question of your guild has been answered, “Do fairies have tails?” Yes, some. You marvel at Malleus’ when he shows you his beautiful tail. He’s a fairy, but a Dragon-fairy, he’s everything you ever wanted to meet. Your friendship has further deepened now that you’ve learned this and now he wants to know more about your guild as well.

You are able to learn magic like your classmates, but you don’t have a need for a mage stone, in fact, you don’t really ‘get’ them. Some hold magic like lacrima, but the more common ones seem to be glorified filters.

*Crystal Dragon slayer

Ruggie also takes a particular interest in you, chiefly your ability to consume ANY crystal, including something as common as glass—however this interest quickly wanes when he realizes you can’t teach him to do the same; that doesn’t stop him from trading your lunch set for a washed soda bottle. While you are interested in the crystals that Grim has been eating, even you find that there’s something gross about the murky stones, despite his tantalizing descriptions. That’s all fine to him, he wasn’t gonna share anyway.

Ojamajo Doremi

The P.E uniform for Night Raven College was a practical jumpsuit. The students took pride in styling it in a way that best suited them, even you were fortunate enough to find an older iteration, in the attic of Ramshackle dorm, that you wore like your friend’s. It was comfortable enough, when you got to wear it—that is, outside of flight lessons.

You always made an effort to transform before class, in the empty locker room, behind some bushes, anywhere but the open field, but some days, you were late. Some days you were laughed at by every single classmate as you rushed to pull on your monochrome costume before the song ended. But they could eat your sparkly dust.

Some time had passed since you received your crystal ball and returned your witch to her true form. You were crossing over from the human world to visit her when you woke up…here.

You were a full fledged witch, and your magic proficiency was at least greater than that of the average third year, but there was SO MUCH you didn’t know about this world. Surprisingly, attending this school was exactly what you needed to gain that knowledge, so while you’re still not sorted into an official dorm, you remain as something of an interdimensional student.

In light of your advanced skill level, you and Grim are not a single student, but he is still accepted as your sole dorm mate—given that you keep watch over him.

With your fairy beside you, you wonder if he could possibly be the same if he’s not a cat—a fairy without a witch that transformed into this direbeast.

Mew Mew Power (Seismic Cymbals)

You entered their world with nothing but their ceremonial robes and your power pendant. It was your only treasure and only link to your world, but there was no need for it as a janitor, right?

You kept it close regardless, nearly activating it when a wild tanuki began rampaging and again when a certain red headed jerk instigated a chase that would have been much easier when transformed—but you resisted. In the end, it was only when the monster of the magic stone mine began swinging its pickaxe that you took your stand. You held off as long as possible, even uniting your ragtag group into a fairly solid plan, but when the monster finally shook off the cauldrons, you transformed and pulled Deuce out of the way, and with the monster far enough away from the cave, you summoned your seismic cymbals and collapsed it into a crevice you opened beneath it. For the most part, teamwork did win the day, and you are still dubbed a beast tamer, but your magicless status was mostly revoked.

As you are unable to actually cast spells you are still unable to participate in most magical lessons and require Grim to cover that aspect of your grade, however, in very specific instances you are able to transform and flaunt your stuff.

From then on, the nature of your species comes into question, as a person who occasionally exhibits beast man traits on occasion, even outside of your transformation.

Persona (a blend to incorporate more features)

*It’s kind of funny how neatly the concept of Overblots connect with Shadow Selves

You were raised in a facility that studied pscience and how shadows and personas manifested and affected the world around it. You have an encyclopedic knowledge on past events where students much like you, were faced with extremely traumatic experiences and forced to take on very adult responsibilities. Despite this, your concept of reality feels distorted when you first call upon your persona in this world. In one sense, it’s reassuring to have access to your persona in this foreign space, but concerning if it’s based on similar rules to that of Tartarus or the TV world—who knows how twisted this world REALLY is and how much time you have!

Under what conditions were you brought here, and why have none of the Overblot victims been able to call upon their Phantoms as Personas after they’ve reverted? They’re basically shadows, right? It seems there’s more to it than you first believed, maybe when the Styx facilities are operational again you can study this power of yours in relation to the victims they kidnapped—with their permission.

As a student, you’re able to display some ‘magic’ by switching between personas. You share many of the same elements and even display some ‘new’ ones that have an effect akin to that of a unique magic. Your healing capabilities are immaculate and you’re one of the greatest talents in the school, but when you overdo it, you are prone to passing out, so be wary.

*Conversely

Despite being able to call upon your persona in this plain, it seems none of your peers can perceive it. Malleus and Lilia seem to be able to sense a separate, but connected presence beside you and Leona claims to smell something that is not quite human, but that’s as far as it goes.

Many are shocked by the grand feats of ‘magic’ that you can utilise without a wand or accumulating blot! But you can’t help but recall the Dark mirrors claim, “Soundless. Colourless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant.” A Joker by any other name.

*Anti-Shadow Suppression Unit (Like Aigis)

“Woah! You’re ANCIENT!”

“Brother!”

“But her design is so MID!”

You’re a robot designed to look human, but in so many areas it's obvious you’re not human, unlike Ortho, whose more techy features are intentional, yours stemmed from an inability to properly hide all your ‘additional’ features. Maybe it’s because you’re not human, but Idia is quick to get up close to you, poking and prodding, practically ready to tear you apart, but unlike Ortho (at the time), you have free will and quickly shut down his behavior. You have such a strong personality because initial tests of models before you emphasized the necessity when designing a weapon like you to have a powerful persona.

At the beginning, you found yourself actively distancing yourself from Ortho, who you felt was imitating being human, unlike you, and you wanted to avoid being compared to him as much as possible. And yet, you find yourself drawn to the Shroud brothers; the elder one somehow being more comfortable around you than he would be with a human and the younger one being fascinated in meeting another ‘person’ like him—it is your interactions that spark his sense of self.

As you grow to trust them, you do allow Idia to run some updates on you, after you analyze the changes to be made. You find your processing power to be faster and more precise, he even improves on your orgia mode, allowing you more control—if only slightly. Besides your robotic existence, Idia finds himself bonding with you over your predetermined futures. As the heir of Styx his role in life has already been decided for the sake of others, while your entire existence was designed to fight these ‘shadows’ for the sake of others. Neither of you are particularly interested in changing this reality, but rather living as best you can within its confines. You tell him about the shows and video games in your world, especially the best series ‘Featherman’ a major loss for this world not having it—at least you guys can watch the episodes you ‘recorded’.

When Ortho finally gains his ‘heart’ you two become the best of friends! You want to know everything about him and are more eager to share how your own awakening came to be. It’s a strange experience for him, but a welcome one and you’re happy to help him in these times.

Skullgirls

They are extremely concerned! What do you mean you have a parasite? Are you okay? Do you need antibiotics or something? You quickly explain that’s not what you take for parasites and that it’s not that type of parasite. You introduce your friends to a creature that’s attached itself to you and further elaborate that it’s technically not harmful to you—right now. Those who do hear your little aside simply overlook that detail. You explain that it’s not an especially uncommon phenomenon.

With the aid of your parasite you mostly take on the role of support in battles, in order to avoid harming the sentient attackers. Your parasite is POWERFUL, a little too powerful to attack a person—save for restraining or tossing them—if you want to see them walking again, so you refrain. It’s an ancient figure that bonds well with Lilia for some reason and attracts the intrigue of the octotrio—especially Azul for…reasons.

Are they crazy? Genies? An entire festival dedicated to wish making? You are horrified by the prospect of so many being brought up on the idea of consequence free wishes. You give them a brief history of the skull heart (A heart…of bones? Shut up Ace), where you were raised, no one would even dream of using it, at least not out loud, on account of the generations of horrors suffered by the land and people. You have regular discussions with Professor Trein and Riddle on the Heart and the wars fought for it and because of it. Azul on the other hand is more interested in the details of the wishes and their fallouts, you can only hope he doesn’t use it as a guide—he reminds you of the Medici mafia. For the first time, you find yourself giving some attention to the wishes you silenced long ago.

Bayonetta

“So…you’re naked?”

You explain that your hair is your clothing. Ace claps back that could be said for most people, but they’re still naked—the school requires that you wear the uniforms provided to classes. In the end, you get a top hat and solidify that nudity and a statement piece is the dorm uniform of the Ramshackle dorm.

You have yet to perform a traditional Umbra Witch summons, apart from the fact it would be way too embarrassing, you understand that you’re still young and not ready to put your schoolmates or your eternal soul on the table because Leona doesn’t wanna play nice with the other kids. You are however quite adept at the summons written about in school texts, the cost is lower and open to a little personal flair.

Meanwhile, your weapon handling is undeniably masterful! Beanfest would have been in the bag if your blaster hadn’t stalled at the last second! Lilia is so amazed by your versatility that he gifts you one of his old weapons from his armory—just keep this a secret between you two.

You auditioned for the VDC, on your own, but your moves were a bit…mature for a school performance (Beauté 100 points!). But, as manager your insight has greater value, you help Deuce and Epel loosen up and introduce some…’flexibility’ to their movements.

Shugo Chara

‘All kids hold an egg in their souls, the egg of our hearts, our would-be selves, yet unseen.’

You were able to see them, but yours had never manifested one in your world—your heart’s egg. Because of your special vision you were an unofficial guardian, so you were privy to some information on them, but you had always craved the impact that having your own would have on your life.

It’s shortly after Riddle’s Overblot that you and Grim awake to an egg with the silhouette of a crow on it in your bed! Grim has NO idea what it is, and leaps from the bed! He is a dire beast and it’s your job to teach him about human things, so you kindly explain it, meanwhile in your mind, of course a house warden would understand it! After everything you had seen them do, this should not be new! You eagerly show it off to all your new friends…only for them to be just as bewildered as Grim! Ace even teases you about having painted an egg for such a lame prank, Deuce bombards you with questions and observes like one would a newborn child, while Riddle quickly searches for medical references—maybe you're actually fae! The fae scentiment is one that also intrigues your horned friend after you show him your egg, he even graciously offers to supply it with magic in your place!

Your chara doesn’t reveal itself until after you defeat Azul. It’s so cute in its little feather cape and hoodie—a mysterious look for such a sweet thing. Oddly enough, EVERYONE in the school can see your chara—you were kind of hoping to play some invisible tricks, but this is okay too—you wonder if it’s a magic thing.

Your chara is so observant, calm and collected. It likes to help people, so there are times when it strays leagues from you in an effort to do so! Azul initially liked it because many enjoyed seeing the adorable little creature—which was great for business, AND FREE! But, over a series of chats, he found that he maybe, sorta, kinda appreciated its understanding and kindness, and he would maybe, sorta, kinda punish anyone who would bring it harm—a sentiment shared by many others.

You can’t help but feel that your coming here was undoubtedly the impetus for this growth.

Your chara change is a broach with what appears to be a mage stone similar to the one Grim has, but decorated with raven feathers. You find that in those times when you ‘change’, you embody the essence of maturity, your insight increases too and you just…get it.

It’s during the Vil’s overblot that you awaken to your chara transformation. Your midnight wings are functional and your black and gold outfit is reminiscent of an opulence not unlike that of the ceremonial robes or even the fairest queen—this extravagant display only further angers Vil. You hold a key blade or key wand and mirror shield in your arms that are sufficient for your amateur level. You’re still new to it, but together you’re able to talk Vil down and support the rest of the NRC Tribe in knocking him back to his senses.

By the time Styx attacks, you have some control over your transformation and the powers that come with it, but you’re still not on the level of the housewardens or even the third years, and like the others, you fall.

When the gate to the underworld is under siege you discover that your key can be used to buff and debuff. For some of the weaker phantoms, you’re able to dissipate their lingering negative emotions, erasing them entirely, while for the stronger ones you boost the potency of your friends’ spells.

Splatoon (Octoling, because Azul)

The first thing they noticed was your eyes, and your pupils' infinity shape. It's not until you remove your hood that they REALLY realize you are NOT human—nice tentacles, I guess. At first, it’s kinda weird to the humans, fae and beastmen, but the merfolk, they are fascinated! Especially Azul.

You describe yourself as an octoling—a descendant of ancient octopuses. You are NOT a mermaid, you are entirely unable to participate in Book 3 as is, but he is interested in you all the same. Before the dorm, you have something else to offer Azul. You are insanely fashionable and your voice is immaculate—and he wants control over it all. You offer your performing services to him should you miss the deadline, but you have a much more valuable skill you ‘failed’ to mention.

After having successfully booted you and your crew, Azul notices paint (ink?) in his office! It’s made such a mess! It’s gotten everywhere! All the way up to the vault!

The moment he opens the vault…you leap from the ink, grab a stack of contracts and jump back in! He is stunned for a moment, and even after he comes to his senses he has no idea how to explain what he needs the staff to do. And then you’re gone.

Through certain occurrences, Azul still overblots. You’re able to relate to him after what the Octolings had been through, and what they had done. You reassure him that things were on a positive trajectory when you left and tell him his tentacles are pretty.

Hunter x Hunter (Nen, Specialist)

You have a distinct presence to you that just can’t really be defined. There are times when the simple act of you turning causes aggressors to flee and other times where you're almost imperceptible—even to Rook! You introduce yourself as a hunter, presenting your license with great enthusiasm and the man is smitten! In his eyes, you’re a beauty like no other! As a hunter himself, he wants to know everything about you and everything about the test you underwent to attain that license! He is one of the select students who seem to be unconsciously manipulating Nen.

Another person who has a significant interest in you is Lilia, when you first exited your coffin you made sure everyone in the vicinity knew to stay far from you; your Ren surged forth before you even stepped out, just enough to warn those in the room, unfortunately Lilia was in the room. You were VERY lucky that nothing came of it in that moment, or rather you both were. However, since that occurrence, he’s had his eye on you. From time to time you can feel him exerting a little Ren himself, but someone as cute and kindly as him wouldn’t bring his sweet underclass man and ward’s first friend harm right…RIGHT!?

Initially it came as a shock that magic wasn’t at all related to Nen, but a different practice altogether. So, there are still limits to what you can do in this school for aspiring mages, but not many. In fact, there are some feats that you perform that have people questioning your species!

You explain that your Nen ability could be likened to that of their unique magic. Yours is known as True Heart’s Reflection, it allows you to peer into impactful moments of your target’s past with the caveat that the detail of the visions are directly linked with how greatly they weigh on the target in the moment (every flashback and vignette/story moments that are referenced but the prefect technically wasn’t there for).

I feel like there’s still more that could be done with this, but that’s for another day or even another writer 🤗

[slexenskee]

Don't Forget About Us (MDNSY Oneshot)

Makoto spares him an unimpressed look. “You looked like you were going to cry in front of a KFC of all fucking things a couple hours ago— and now you’re the drunkest I’ve seen you in months and seem determined to somehow sing your way out of a crisis.”

For an ask about the new bff learning about the past bff

Read here [link] or below:

“Not here,” Satoru says, which draws her up short.

They’ve just finished up a show at a nearby club, and despite the late hour are utterly ravenous. Kenji and Yui begged off for the night, leaving Makoto alone with her lead singer. Makoto has led them to the nearest appropriately greasy and unhealthy restaurant within eyeshot— a KFC. Not her go-to pick as far as fast food or even fried chicken is concerned, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

Except they can, apparently, because Satoru seems pretty staunch in his disapproval. 

Makoto stares at him incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’re on a diet,” she laughs, joking.

Her laughter fades as Satoru’s expression remains unchanged. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen that look on him before. Distant and constellated. Even with his glasses off he’s a bit impossible to read. 

“Seriously?” Her look turns skeptical. 

He’s the size of a waif and eats more sugar than should be statistically possible. And a bit of processed fast food is hardly the worst thing he’s done to himself in the time she’s known him. The cigarette dangling from his lips is a sure sign of that. And since when does he have a problem with fast food after a live show? He lives for this shit. 

“I just don’t like fried chicken,” he returns, which is a blatant lie if she ever knew one. He likes fried chicken just fine; he especially likes it at one in the morning, when he’s starving after a setlist. 

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, get something else on the menu then.” She’s starving right now, and the tantalizing scent of fried food is only making it worse.

“Anywhere but here,” he says, and this time, she can hear the threadbare shot of panic in the bottom of his voice. 

Does he… Is he being serious right now? Evidently yes. Taking another look at him, he really does look unwell. 

“Okay,” Makoto says, slowly, taking a step back from the well-lit doorway. “We’ll go somewhere else, then.” 

“Preferably with alcohol involved,” Satoru adds, flippantly, and turns on his heel, as if the sight of a single fast food restaurant sign could do more damage to him than the excessive alcohol he’s about to consume. 

Makoto lets it go, for the time being. This weird but shockingly talented bandmate of hers has the strangest hangups sometimes. She’s just learned to accept them, for the most part. And not ask too many questions— he gets real squirrelly with those. And every time she thinks she’s getting closer to the truth of him, he twists the paradigm around with yet another absurd and/or vaguely horrifying revelation.  

Makoto shoves them into the nearest izakaya she can find— ironically a yakitori joint with ample fried chicken on the menu— and immediately orders them a round of beers that Satoru tacks on with a bottle of sochu. Ah. So it’s going to be one of those nights. They order a responsible amount of food with their drinks for the first few rounds, but eventually it just turns into the two of them getting wildly drunk and staggering out of the place draped over each other in search of the nearest karaoke bar. 

Makoto would have thought the guy would have had enough of singing, what with performing a whole setlist just a few hours ago, but drunk!Ru-kun really only has two modes, slutty stripper Ru-kun or karaoke star Ru-kun, and since he’s still hung up over Hawks these days, it looks like they’re shutting down the karaoke bars tonight. 

Not that Makoto minds, necessarily. It’s been ages since they’ve had a night out like this, and she’s got a whole weekend to be miserable and recover from what’s shaping up to be a raging hangover before she has to drag herself to work again. And for whatever reason, she’s sensing Satoru might be in desperate need of a night out himself. 

The place they stumble into is equal parts nightclub and karaoke bar: a large, darkly lit open interior sprawls before them packed to the gills with dancers; disco lights zip across the crowds and the bottle services girls fighting their way to their tables with sparkling champagne thrust into the air like shooting stars; and at the far end an inebriated girl with cat ears is belting out a fairly decent rendition of Mariah Carey’s Shake it Off as she struts across the bar. In short, this is probably exactly the sort of place they were both looking for. 

Makoto swindles them a free table with a bit of flirting with the hostess, and finds herself holding court among a generous crowd of random inebriated strangers thrilled to get drinks off her tab, while Satoru wanders off to find the mic. She loses track of him for a bit, but is unsurprised when he resurfaces wearing someone else’s blonde wig, up on the bar himself singing Baby One More Time as he fumbles his way through the dance routine with the cat-eared girl in tow. Still in his stage outfit from earlier in the night, he honestly looks like someone paid him to be up there, which is probably why the entire bar is clamoring towards him like he’s a celebrity or something. 

He shows up at her table eventually, sprawling himself over her and the booth with his borrowed blonde wig in tangles across his face. She throws it off him as he makes grabby hands for a bottle of champagne on the table. She should probably cut him off at this point, but she’s wasted herself and doesn’t have enough fucks to care anymore, so she just pours them both another glass and clinks their glasses together. 

She has no idea what time it is when she starts to feel hungry again and orders food. They could have been in this place for hours or days, and she wouldn’t be able to tell; it doesn’t seem to be in danger of closing on them any time soon. The crowds come and go, but the place stays packed and the loud music has yet to bother her, so she doesn’t feel inclined to leave. What would be the point? There’s no food at her apartment, and ever since she broke it off with her last fling, no one waiting for her either. From the way Satoru constantly gets his turn at the mic, she doubts he’s in any rush to leave either. 

So maybe they’re both just eager to run away from things. But for his sake, she should probably get him to talk about it. The last time he was having some kind of internal crisis he was trying to drown out with alcohol, he’d ended up sleeping with a Top Three Hero and catching feelings for him.

“Okay, so what the hell brought this on,” she finally corners him, after he’s done with an obnoxiously impressive cover of Despacito for a guy who speaks absolutely no Spanish, and is once again sprawled in the booth with her.  

“What? Nothing.” She supposes she should at least be happy to see him putting orange juice in his champagne, even if he’s yet to touch any of the food. 

Makoto spares him an unimpressed look. “You looked like you were going to cry in front of a KFC of all fucking things a couple hours ago— and now you’re the drunkest I’ve seen you in months and seem determined to somehow sing your way out of a crisis.”

“It’s not my fault everyone keeps shoving the mic at me and picking great songs,” he retorts, stubbornly. 

This probably means she should drop it and just let him run away from his own problems, but beyond just trying to save himself from the worst of his own vices, at this point she’s also just curious. 

“Fine, drink your way out of a crisis,” she amends, then shoves a plate of dosas at him. “And at least eat something if you’re going to do that. I’m not dragging you home if you’re too drunk to walk.”

Satoru pouts ferociously, but nonetheless reaches for a crepe and tears off a bite. “I’m not having a crisis,” this idiot insists, like the emotionally stunted idiot he is. 

“Really? Let’s go to a KFC then, if you’re not having a crisis about it. We’ll bring the whole band.”

“I’m not having a crisis about fucking fried chicken, okay,” Satoru says, expression turning a bit pinched. “I just— it was bad timing, is all. If I hadn’t just gotten done with playing our last setlist I would have been fine to eat there.”

This draws Makoto up a bit short. Her brow creases. “What does the setlist have to do with it?”

Satoru stares at her for a moment, indecipherable. Then he grabs his champagne and downs the whole thing. He sets the empty glass on the table as he says, “I almost had to kill my best friend in front of a KFC, once.”

It’s so unexpected she nearly drops her own drink. “What?” 

No, seriously. What the fuck? 

“He’d gone off the rails and killed a bunch of people,” Satoru continues, only bewildering her further. “I was supposed to put him down, but at the time I just couldn’t do it. I tracked him down, stood outside the store ready to kill him, and I just… I couldn’t do it.” 

Makoto leans back in her seat, reeling. 

She’d call it some bizarre made up bullshit, but sadly, every facet of Satoru’s life sounds like bizarre made up bullshit, so it’s probably the truth. 

She scrambles for a response. “I— when was this?” 

“A while ago,” he answers, clipped. He reaches for the entire bottle of champagne, and this time doesn’t even bother with the glass. She doesn’t stop him. 

She has no idea what she expected from this mysterious and eccentric bandmate of hers, but admitting to attempted murder was really not in her cards for the guy. Then again, what did she expect? She watches him down the entire bottle as she tries, and fails, to get her thoughts together. There’s just so much to infer from this and she doesn’t even know where to start. Just what kind of guy was his best friend, that he’d gone on a killing spree? And why would it ever be Satoru’s responsibility to execute him for his crimes? And what does that have to do with their setlist? 

She at least gets one of the answers she’s searching for.

Satoru wipes at his mouth, looking out into the strobe lights as he says, “He wasn’t a bad person. He just… wanted more than life could ever grant him.” 

Makoto blinks, realization dawning hard and fast. 

(I wanted more than life could ever grant me)

Satoru never talks about how he writes his music. He swears, in fact, that it doesn’t really mean anything to him at all— that he just makes them up off the top of his head. Makoto had never once believed that, and now she has the proof. She’s heard him sing Today is the Greatest hundreds of times at this point, but she’d always thought it was about himself. The more she learns about him, the more she realizes some of those lines align a little too closely to his own experiences to be anything but personal. But she supposes two things can be true at once; that song can be about him, but still remind him of a friend he’d lost. 

She almost doesn’t want to ask, but… “What happened to him?”

Even the stifling, crowded warmth of the nightclub plunges into ice as he says, without looking at her, “I can only hope he found more peace in death than he did in life.” 

Makoto startles at the implication. 

But at the time, I just couldn’t do it. 

So he managed it, in the end? 

Before she can even fathom up a response, the cat-eared girl is leaping over the booth to wrap her arms around Satoru, begging him to get up and help her duet yet another Mariah Carey song. 

“Make it Don’t Forget About Us and I’ll do it,” he says. 

Without hesitation she agrees, and he grabs his ridiculous wig and jumps over the seat to join her. He’s probably eager to once again run away from his feelings and, this time, she can’t blame him whatsoever. Or on second thought, as they really get into it in the chorus, she has to wonder if this isn’t actually him running from his feelings so much as confronting them head on? "When it’s real, it’s forever" indeed. 

//

She learns a hell of a lot about her ridiculous bandmate over the course of the following months, but she never quite gets a straight answer over his former best friend, and possibly first love, and she never directly asks, either. If he wants to tell her, she’ll listen, but otherwise she’ll let him approach it in his own time. 

But she does make sure he knows she’s around if he ever wants to talk about it. 

They’re at that same R&B karaoke joint, this time enjoying their time in a far more sedate and far less exorbitant manner with drinks at the bar. Satoru has long since lost that blonde wig, but the bartenders have clearly never forgotten ‘Karaoke Queen Ruru’ because they shower them with a generous amount of free shots and make pointed questions about the karaoke queue every time. Satoru waves them off with a laugh though, insisting he’s just here for a quiet night out. 

“You’ve gotten boring ever since you got wifed up,” Makoto denounces as he hedges off yet another turn at the mic.

Satoru’s expression turns a bit pinched— and panicked. “I’m not married,” he hisses, furtively. “And don’t say that so loud! I don’t need the rumors to get any worse.” 

“Not married yet,” Makoto revises, rolling her eyes. “For reasons that still allude me. What are you waiting for, exactly? You can’t ask for a more public or dramatic proposal than the one you already got.”

“It’s not that,” he insists, rolling his glass in his hands. 

Makoto blinks at him. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

“I’m not,” Satoru remarks, although he does look a bit shifty-eyed. Makoto squints at him. A bit of dread sinks in her stomach.

“Satoru,” she starts, cautiously. “If you really don’t want this…”

“It’s definitely not that either,” he assures her quickly. His mouth pinches into a tight line. “I know it took me, like, an inconceivably long amount of time to get to the point where I can admit it outside of our various discographies, but I do want Hawks. I don’t have any doubts about it.” 

He stops, the silence holding for a heavy, offbeat moment as he seems to want to say more, but can’t manage to force the words out. Makoto isn’t sure what else to do but wait patiently for him to finish, and when he doesn’t, flag the bartender down for shochu shots. Nothing like a bit of liquid courage to brace yourself for some trauma dumping. 

Satoru huffs out a laugh as she rolls one down the bar towards him, clinking their glasses together. “Thanks,” he says, as they cheers.

“What are friends for?” She counters, tossing the shot back. 

Satoru follows her, then sets the glass back down on the bar as he wipes the salt off his lips. “I don’t have any doubts,” he repeats, after a moment. “I guess I just… need a bit more time to let go.”

Let go? Her brow furrows in confusion. Let go of what? 

Then she remembers the last time they were at this bar. The last time Satoru had run away from his past straight into the arms of excessive alcohol and a cat-eared girl singing R&B classics. Remembers his request for his last song, where he’d stood on top of a filthy bar and belted out, “I’m just speaking from experience, nothing can compare to your first true love” to a packed dance floor all singing along with their hands in the air. 

She sets her own glass down. “Were you and your friend… were you two like that?” She asks, hesitantly. 

Were you lovers, before you killed him? 

She’s a little relieved when he shakes his head. Romantic or not, she’s sure that doesn’t lessen the pain, just makes it a different kind of regret. 

“No. Well— not exactly.” He looks conflicted. “We never… it was never like that. It might have been, but, well…” 

Then he had some kind of psychotic break and turned into a mass murderer, and Satoru had to be the one to put an end to him permanently. Right. What a fucking mess. No wonder this guy has spent most of his life doing his level best to avoid his own past. The more she learns about it, the more depressing it gets. 

She nudges him sympathetically with her knee. “It’s okay to mourn the loss of what could have been,” she says, gently. “It’s not wrong to need time to move on— no matter how much time that is.”

Satoru nods, looking lost in his own thoughts. 

Makoto bites her lip. “... Does Hawks know?” 

He blinks, surfacing from his own head to look at her. “Yeah,” he answers, without hesitation. Then he lets out a sharp, bitter chuckle. “He knows everything, but he sticks around anyway. I don’t really know what I did to deserve him.” 

“And what are the rest of us then, chopped liver?” She kicks him in the shin. “I’m not going anywhere either, you jerk.” 

Satoru’s eyes are very wide as he stares at her. Then he ducks his head, a bit bashful. “Yeah,” he agrees, looking a little wistful. “I got really lucky with all of you, didn’t I?” 

“Damn right you did!” She kicks him again for good measure. “I’m sticking around, no matter how many stupid identity reveals you try to throw at me. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 

He barks out a laugh, grinning widely. “Good! Mark your words, I’m holding you to that!” 

(And when he confesses his plans for an anime of all fucking things, and reveals an entire past life’s worth of trauma at them, she screams a lot but she does, indeed, stick around to turn it into the best damn anime ever produced.)

--

idk I was listening to a lot of Mariah Carey's 2000's hits and remembered I'd made another Satoru cross-dressing alter-ego specifically to sing R&B karaoke hits so here we are 🤷‍♀️

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[byechristopher]

loveeed your fwb chris headcanons can you do a confession fic ab it that is all angsty and shit where he’s high and confesses or where reader confesses? whatever you want

I Want More.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST & FLUFF.

Author's note: thank you so much for the request! I hope you all like it, cuties.🤍 Mwuah. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol, nothing too much!

"No strings attached, okay? You can hook up with other people if you want, it's none of my business."

"I wouldn't actually mind being with you, you know?"

"Well, yes, I'm just.. relationships are not for me. Sorry."

The words that he said to me when we first started appear in my head every single time he is in my sight. It could be because it hurt so much that I cannot forget, it could also be for the better – because to get hurt is the only way to move on, apparently. Whichever it was, it hurt.

His hand wakes me up from my thoughts when it goes up to my hair, stroking it, "wanna meet tonight?" Chris whispers in my ear, our whole friend group is next to us but he doesn't really seem to care anyway.

"Yes. My house." I nod and he smiles, his hand rubbing up and down my thigh.

And tonight comes. He's all over me, inside me, I kiss him everywhere, he's rough and I love it, I pull his hair, he squeezes me, I scratch his skin, it's messy. One of those nights, that we both need to let it out. Once we're done, he pulls me into a big hug, his hand bringing mine close to his mouth so that he can kiss it.

"You're beautiful." he says and my heart beats a little faster at that. It's amazing; that power that he has on me.

"So are you." I whisper.

He leaves. My hearts shatters.

Another day, we're hanging out again. He's stealing kisses with every chance that he gets, my cheek, my neck, my shoulder. He caresses my thighs under the blanket, he plays with my fingers.

I tell him I want him. I whisper.

"My house, 8PM." he says.

And again, 8PM comes, I'm at his house, he's alone. He takes me by the hand and makes me follow him to his room – he's got candles all over the room, flowers. Is this a dream?

I can't wait, I can't keep my hands to myself. I slowly hug him from behind, kissing from the nape of his neck, all the way down to his lower back, undressing him very slowly. He does the same thing to me too. The night goes on, he's so slow, so gentle, he's filling me with his love and its so overwhelming that I want to cry, he seems overwhelmed too. He whispers sweet nothings in my ear and touches me with ways no one has ever done before. He tells me he loves me. I hold on to him and we both look desperate and filled with love for each other as he makes love to me.

When we're done, the dream is over. He's still holding me, he's still whispering his usual i love you's in my ears but there's something inside me that weighs me down, something that can utterly destroy me, "Chris. I think we need to stop this thing between us." he freezes.

"What? Why?" he whispers.

"I don't feel like doing it anymore, sorry. It's for the better." I try to be as cold as possible, because if I actually say all the things I want to say, I feel like I will scream and cry till my voice is lost.

It's been quite a few days since we last spoke and every time I think about it, the image of him covering himself with his blanket, looking devastated when I left, always comes to mind. I feel bad but I need to be selfish this time.

A call rudely interrupts my thoughts and I sigh – a call? It's 3AM. I check the screen and I see his name. My hearts races.

"Hello?"

"Come outside. I want to see you." he almost slurs. He's either drunk, or high. Or both.

"Go back home, Chris. I wanna sleep."

"I'm not leaving. Please." he sniffles.

I sigh and hang up. I walk towards the door and I stand there for a few seconds, taking a deep breath before opening it.

There he is. With his hoodie and his jeans. His eyes are red and his hair is a mess.

"You'll get cold. Go home." I whisper and he comes closer.

"I don't care. I wanted to be with you." his voice is hoarse.

"Why?" I look at him, hugging myself because shit, it actually is very cold.

"We need to talk." he nods to himself.

"We have nothing to talk about, Chris. You made it very clear that you wanted nothing but sex. I did, too. But I knew I felt something deeper." I say and he comes closer but I stop him, "no. I am talking. You kept messing with my head, making love to me, getting all romantic and shit, bringing flowers everywhere – that's not how friends with benefits are, Chris." I sigh.

He chews on his bottom lip nervously, "I don't know how to do this. I thought you liked how things were." he says.

"I did! But it got too much for me, Chris. I want more. And until you grow a pair and admit to yourself that you are able to fall in love too, that you want this as much as I do, I want nothing to do with you." I clear my throat.

He clenches his jaw and I notice that his eyes are glistening, like he is about to cry, "so is this the end?"

"I suppose so. Yes." I desperately try to gold back my own tears. He nods and turns around. He's not moving just yet but I can't watch him leave again, so I close the door behind him and I feel my world crumbling.

What was I thinking? That I would change him? That he would finally admit that he loves me too? That we would live the dream together? That he would just give me a kiss and tell me that he wants to be with me? How embarrassing.

That's it.

The next day, my heart hurts like a bitch, but I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest for once. Maybe it's because I finally told him how I felt. And maybe because I got an answer, too – he doesn't want to be with me. It hurts, but it's an answer.

A knock on the door wakes me up again and I walk towards it, only to see an envelope. Someone must've pushed it inside. I get a little scared to open the door right away and I don't have a peephole so I just decide to open the envelope.

"I decided that since I have never been able to talk about my feelings, because I'm too much of a fucking coward, I will just write everything down and I will have to find the courage to give it to you.

I don't know why I've got such a problem expressing my feelings like a fucking adult should, but I can't stand the thought of losing you, let alone losing you because of me being a coward. So this letter is for you (I know how much you like all this sappy shit and worst part is, you made me like them too).

I've been in love with you since the day we started "officially" being friends with benefits. You know I couldn't keep my hands off of you, or my eyes. I would get jealous and possessive because you know I never want anyone else to touch you like I do. Or see you like I do. I made love to you because this was the only way to express my love for you – your heart would beat so fast and I would want to cry from how much you filled me with love and passion. Is that normal? I honestly don't know.

Anyways, for an asshole who doesn't know how to speak properly, I think I've written enough. If you think that this letter is me finally growing a pair, then please open the door because it's really fucking cold.

PS – this time my i love you's are changed."

I am ugly crying by the time I finish the letter, but I don't care because I open the door and Chris is outside, crying as well.

"I can't lose you. I promise, I will try for you. I will do anything for you." he whispers.

I quickly throw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest, hugging him so tightly that if I was stronger, he would stop breathing for sure, "I love you, Chris."

"I am in love with you too."

"Your handwriting still sucks."

"Fuck off."

[woso-fan13]

Whumptober 2023: 9

No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”

A Polaroid picture of you at practice is slipped under your door. You’re confused, but it’s a cute picture so you just prop it against the lamp on the desk. It was probably just the media team’s doing. 

You forget about the event until a few days later, when you find another picture. This one is sitting in your locker, a closeup of you when the team had gone out to dinner the other night. 

“Does anyone know what the media team’s been working on?” You ask your teammates, “they’ve been leaving me hints but I can’t figure it out.”

None of your teammates know, so you leave it alone. 

The pictures stop, for a while, after that. You don’t get anymore until the next month, when you’re back at camp. This was a picture of you in the locker room, and it was left propped on your seat in the bus. 

This wasn’t funny anymore. 

“Alright, who’s been pranking me?” you’re met with silence, “seriously, guys, I’m sick of it. Em? Kel?”

Both women shake their heads. You believe them. 

“Whatever, just- whoever it is- stop it. It’s not funny anymore.”

—-

The pictures didn’t stop. Instead, they grow in frequency- appearing daily now. In the meal room, on the bench before a game, shoved into your locker. You were finding them everywhere and your annoyance at your teammates grew. 

The team had gathered to review game footage, Coach working on connecting the video on the laptop to the projector. After a technologically challenged struggle, the laptop’s background is projected. Coach clicks into the media player and the whole team is met with a single photo. You, asleep in your bed, X’s drawn over your eyes. 

This sends the room into a shocked silence. Coach is mad that someone messed with the media equipment, beginning to lecture the team on respecting property. 

But that picture isn't recent, not like the others. Usually, the pictures are from camp the day before. This one was different.  

This one was older. This one was taken in your home, in your bedroom. 

—-

After a long conversation with the team, it’s clear to everyone that something bad is happening. A frustrating call to the police follows. Apparently, because you were a recognizable figure and posted regularly on social media, you should be okay with this happening. Apparently, you should appreciate the attention. 

You were scared. You slept in a teammate's room, refusing to go anywhere without a group. You only left the hotel to go to the pitch, refusing any other activities offered. 

And the pictures stopped coming. For almost a week, you hadn’t received anything. In celebration, you got to pick the movie for team bonding that night. 

You were walking down the hallway with the other youngsters, heading to where Becky was hosting movie night. She had turned a blind eye on the amount of forbidden snacks being offered around the room, knowing that everyone needed a little comfort.

“I’m just going to stop and grab a blanket,” you say as you pass your door, “you guys go on ahead, I’ll be right there.”

You hadn’t been in your room in about a week, occasionally sending someone in to get something that you needed. But now, after a week, you felt fine stopping in to grab a blanket. Plus, movie night was only three doors down the hall, you would be fine. 

You reassured the others to go and tell everyone that you were coming, insisting that you would be fine. Once they had started walking away, you held your keycard against the lock, opening it when the light flashed green. You flipped on the light, looking back at the others to respond to a question that Lindsey had shouted to you. 

Taking a step into the room, you finally turn your head to look. You scream. 

The room was covered with pictures of you- filling the bed, scattered across the floor, propped up on the nightstand. With a brief glance, you recognized some of them. 

One was from your last birthday, zoomed in from a far distance. Another was of you at your last game, one of you through the bus window. 

An arm quickly wrapped around your waist, pulling you back and against a strong body. 

You screamed again, fighting. Your arms were pinned to your side as you desperately tried to escape. The only thing that brought you out of your flight-or-fight instinct was a family voice shouting your name. 

“Y/N- Y/N, you’re okay. You’re okay, you’re safe. Let’s get out of here, come on.”

You fell fully into Lindsey’s arms, sobbing. 

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

On The Topic Of Eddie.

First of all, he’s completely fucked. He’s screwed. I’ve said it a thousand times and I’ll say it again: I’ve never seen a character more doomed by the narrative. 

Second, Eddie’s halloween costume was Frankenstein’s Monster. And pray tell, what was the Monster’s whole thing? That he’s betrayed by his own creator, rejected / attacked by the town, deeply misunderstood & interpreted as a violent beast despite being well-read and helpful/benevolent. There are some interesting ties there - especially with the Misunderstood Despite Being Well-Read (switch out violent beast with forgetful klutz and it’s a perfect fit). That, plus Eddie’s description of “...brought back from the dead… by the scientist… stitches… a deathly pallor… a bit of a moral conundrum…”

Take that and add it to how Eddie resembles the “night” side of the clocks (this will be expanded upon with Sally in a different post), and how @/theneighborhoodwatch once pointed out that the color purple is only shown in relation to Eddie & may represent secrets, how in livestream trivia it was implied that Eddie doesn’t sleep at night as he is a “busy guy”, and how Sally’s “monster” only comes out at night and likely isn’t a monster at all - she is dramatic, an embellisher, and said to present things that she herself doesn’t know / is uncertain of As Fact, or at least present them as if she knows exactly what she’s talking about (even when she doesn’t and knows it). 

Another tidbit that I may have mentioned but I’ll bring it up again: Eddie’s eyelashes match the scalloped trim under Home’s windows. Three round curves. 

As an additional tally in the “Eddie is soooo fucked <3” scoreboard, Eddie is the mailman in a story where one of the first things we knew to be actually happening was the WHRP receiving letters of Welcome Home media (now I’m not saying Eddie sent them, certainly not. He may or may not have had a hand in helping with the delivery, but what I mean with this is how it ties in symbolically/abstractly/thematically.) That plus the red envelope, the general unfolding delivery theme… Eddie even has a holiday explicitly associated with him - Mail-In Time Day. 

Then there’s the fact that Eddie tends to express Knowledge and a more worldly disposition, in a way. Despite Frank being mentioned as the neighborhood “intellectual”, and he is so with facts, Eddie seems to have a deeper well of… let’s say cultural know-how. Pair that with how his bio is the only one to say/imply that he comes from elsewhere, that he’s been Around. Everyone else came from their family or don’t have a stated before, but Eddie? He was strongly implied to have delivered to a lot of different places - this is made into a running gag, but we all know a running gag for the Show has deeper implications and meanings. 

And the fact that his genuine knowledge as well as his past are consistently dismissed and/or played off for laughs…

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR THIS NEXT BIT: I CANNOT FIND THE OG ASK OUTSIDE OF SCREENSHOTS SO TAKE ALL OF THIS WITH A MASSIVE GRAIN OF SALT, AS THERE IS THE POSSIBILITY THAT THE ASK WAS FROM PRE-2021 AND SO - ALONG WITH THIS SPEC CHUNK - IT MAY BE NULL & VOID. BUT IT ALSO MAY NOT BE! SO I’LL TALK.

A while back - this is related I swear - there was an ask Clown answered where they talked about some of his notes on Eddie. The first part that I want to point out is how apparently Eddie is a good source for information (specifically How-To), but despite being talkative he doesn’t share unless prodded for it. This directly relates to the above points. 

Then there’s the one I really want to talk about - how Clown says that “He [Eddie] has a great deal of precision for someone who presents themselves as a semi-clumsy busybody!” 

That single line made me insane, personally. First, the wording. The choice of saying presents themselves as instead of something like for someone who is. There’s an obvious discrepancy between his precision and clumsiness. Now I don’t doubt that he may be a tad accident-prone, but what if Eddie is dialing up the clumsy nature to disarm his Neighbors / craft a specific reputation for himself / give himself leeway in other areas. 

On one hand, this is suspicious as fuck.

On the other hand, this is so adhd of him. 

One of the things rarely mentioned about it is how sometimes we adhders will play up our more “useless” traits in order to create a bit of a social safety net. Admittedly, I will sometimes play up my forgetfulness so that a) if i do forget things (truth more often than not), people aren’t surprised. b) when i remember things, people are pleasantly surprised. I mean, if people start thinking we’re competent then they’ll start Expecting things from us, which is never a good thing! 

And another thing that relates to it that that ask said - Clown says in it that Eddie is slow to anger, but he gets frustrated more easily. Which is fascinating and very relatable. They also said that he can’t talk about it without wandering too far, which - if the post is viable - has… implications. 

Anyway I am very confident that Eddie is in fact adhd. List of reasons (refer to the wiki trivia Eddie Dear section for sources):

He’s forgetful

He gets so involved with a task and cannot break away until it’s finished, thus often making him late

He’s particular

He has a watch - likely to help him keep track of time, implying that he has difficulty with the concept (time blindness!) 

He is very talkative and rambley 

& seems to have slight difficulty with picking up on social cues telling him when to / when not to speak

He’s slow to anger but more easily frustrated 

Beyond all of this I don’t have much to add that I haven’t already talked about in a previous post! I’m sure even so I’ve restated some (or a lot of) things - it Happens! 

In conclusion: bbg is so screwed & also adhd <3

[milksuu]

Hii! This is my first time sending a request haha! Well, could you Heartsteel Aphelios with Reader who’s a hardcore Gamer?

(I mean, like ungodly amounts of hours on a multitude of games. Always hitting new high scores. And the classic, eyebags from lack of sleep.)

⌜heartsteel!aphelios x fem!reader⌟ ╰ ❝ YOU CAN'T WIN A GIRLFRIEND IN A 1 V 1 ! ❞

❥ prompt: Aphelios thought there wasn't a single soul in the entire universe stupid enough to challenge him to a 1v1. But apparently, the 'God of Gaming' thought to use their last brain cell to bet their final testament. Little did you know, you'd fall from grace, then forced to play in some idols sick twisted game of pay-back. ❥ content/warnings: enemies to lovers vibe, affectionate bullying, name calling, teasing, fake relationship, fluff (?), 100% emotional dmg ( + crit. bonus on reader)

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ 'GOD OF GAMING'....that's what they call you. An immortal being born to play and dominate the realm of video games in all facets. Sleep's inevitably for the weak and uncommitted. It's a mark of honor to wield dark, heavy under bags beneath your eyes, so long as it meant keeping your rightful place on the throne.

Even in the realm of FPS, no one dares contest your dominance on top of the leaderboard. It's impossible for anyone who even thinks to get more than three hours of daily sleep. Until this night, at the deathly hour of 3 A.M on a Tuesday, an unknown player sweeps in announced. First round on top was a newby flook. You were busy taking a few breaks in game to sip on your energy drink. Second time, the damn bastard is kill stealing from even your weakest team mates. Third time he makes top of the leaderboards...now that's a personal attack on your reputation.

It's not long till various social tweets race like wildfire across all media platforms. Nothing more than constant jabs and reminders of how fickle your place is in this revolving door of a world. It makes you crinkle your fifth can of gamer fuel. There's only one way to respond to this usurper trying to contest your territory.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ APHELIOS sits back in his chair, tapping a finger on his desk. He narrows his eyes against a blaring screen. Who even was this? He had no clue. All he can recall is playing some random game out of boredom, then a monsoon of social tweets pestering him and some other guy who likes gaming. Maybe a little too much, he suspects.

He does his own social media rummaging, scuffing at his findings. You practically live inside your room, dedicating your whole life to playing video games. Apparently, it's your entire livelihood. He doesn't envy you one bit; pity is the better word that comes to mind. Your entire aesthetic is wearing an oversized hoodie that covers everything (probably your man boobs), and even your face. Except for your eyes. Holy hell, those eyebags were heavier than Sett's banana hammock on a hot summer's day.

Lazily, he opens up his calendar; checking event dates, rehearsal dates, fan meet dates. Tomorrow's his only free day for the week. Luckily for you, that's the one day you demanded from him. And of course some holed-up undesirable would ask another guy to challenge him at a internet cafe. No big deal. He'd set aside a few minutes to put you in your place. Then, completely forget about your entire existence the next day.

Aphelios accepts the challenge and locks in the date. When the day of divine retribution comes, he shows up twenty-minutes before hand. He purposely waits in front of the internet cafe you chose. Only to enjoy the sight of watching some idiot (you) sweating in a hoodie, barely able to catch your breath before you stood at his feet. Oddly enough, something different turns the corner. Eye-catching, even.

"Hey. Looks like you didn't chicken out on me," you comment, brushing away your done up hair from your shoulder. "Guess I'll give you kudos for that."

Aphelios does a double-take, trying to process the image of you online to what's standing in front of him. From his perspective, you look every bit of a model that just stepped out of a photo shoot. Where did those bags go? Man boobs? No, girl boobs? Was being reversed cat-fished a thing?

(Imagine the power of a whole eight hours of sleep and wardrobe change)

You quirk a brow at his silent, mile-long stare. "Um, yeah. Let's make this quick. I have plans to go shopping after this. So I want to get this over with so I can get on with my day. Sound good to you?"

Before he can respond, you brush pass him, slipping through the doors behind. Blinking away his sense of whiplash, Aphelios follows. It's not surprising to find a group of fans swarming and buzzing around the entire place. He's still stun-locked by your unexpected appearance. Observing as you go about in graceful fashion, greeting and hugging those in support of you.

"How about we make a deal before we start," you approach him again, placing your hands hotly on your hips. "I win, and you announce on all your social media platforms that I'm the better player. And your terms?"

Aphelios pauses. He made a hasty assumption. Thinking you were some guy living like a wall rat inside his own apartment. The slight margin of error has his lips curling in the most sadistic fashion. This was going to work out much more in his favor. And there's no intention of letting you off so easily. Being an attractive girl was never a default for mercy. He pulled out his cell, and typed the following:

If I win, you have to be my girlfriend for a month.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ YOU READ the words out loud, and the whole atmosphere cuts to silence. Your mouth trembles, before you burst with laughter as does the rest of the room. Clutching your cramping stomach, you swat the air in frantic motions. "Y-You can't be serious," you say with attempts to catch your breath. "You think you're going to win? That's so funny. How embarrassing for you. To think you'd even have a single chance to date me." Calming your breaths, you send him one final death glare and spit out the word. "Delusional."

Walking to take your seat, you ignore his unfaltering gaze trailing you. There's a glint in his eyes that tells you he's enjoying whatever hamster wheel is spinning inside his head. You need to add the poor hamster is obviously sick, forced into labour and probably part of a lab experiment.

When the match starts, no one feels the need to invest too much into the game. You were, after all, the 'God of Gaming'. It wasn't going to be a fair match to begin with. Until the game ends before anyone can blink twice; especially you.

The rule to win the round was simple; land the first headshot. Needles to say, you didn't.

Your eyes widen against the screen. Your death screen pops, and your lifeless body collapses. Adding unnecessary amounts of salt in the wound, your scumbag of an opponent crouches over your head. Repeatedly. Your trembling vision shifts away, past your monitor to the opposite side. Slowly, Aphelios leans casually into view, a cocky eyebrow cinched high into his forehead.

You grit your teeth, hand tightening into fists that would mark the inside of you palms. Pestering whispers and scandalous talk rise and echo around you. There's no way to escape the shame. You bow your head in defeat. What else can you do? There wasn't any use in fighting. You have to save whatever drop of class and honor you have left. Anything out of pocket, and your whole reputation could crumble. You push yourself away from the desk, pacing to meet your bastard of an opponent on the other side.

"Good...good game," your voice strangles to leave your tight lips. You try hard not to ruin your face with a scowl. Especially when Aphelios stands pretty damn tall, staring down at you like a child that just had good a spanking. Taking out his phone, he shows you some text:

Sure. Guess you would call it a good game. And now that you're my girlfriend, it's only reasonable to go on a date with me. As my reward and all. Those were the terms. Right?

The blood inside your veins boil. You want nothing more than to slap that phone out of his hands, and crush it beneath your heels. You reserve to grinding your teeth. Aphelios merely smiles through a devilish crinkle in his blood moon eyes. And it's now dawning on you; he's made a full-proof plan to make you suffer.

From what I know, girlfriend's hold onto their boyfriends hands. And also call them 'babe' as a loving pet name. Right?

You want to scream at the top of your lungs right now. Holding your breath, you withhold it from your surrounding scrutiny. When he reaches out his hand, you take it tensely. He chuckles when your manicured nails dig aggressively into the skin of his hand.

It’s cute how badly my girlfriend wants to hold my hand. I’d be careful, though. The harder she squeezes, the more I kind of like it.

You gulp and loosen your grip. Honestly, where the hell does he get off saying stuff like that so casually? How humiliating. And it was just the start of your month of impending doom.

Like any ‘proper’ date, he drags you to one of his usual spots in town for a meal. It's odd to witness him take the lead so naturally; as if you really were his damn girlfriend. When he offers to order and pay for the both of you, you almost hesitate. However, you weren't going to turn down a free meal. Even if it came from your current worst enemy.

“Oh. Um…then I’ll have the burger. No pickles.” Aphelios sends you a yard long stare, and you know he's siphoning you for more. You blush, turning a cheek. “Please, b-babe?”

You can tell he leers underneath his mask, like a cat whose gotten his cream. He leaves you briefly, before returning and setting a tray of food in front of you. For a moment, you stare at the hamburger with warranted skepticism. You raise your pair of squinting eyes at Aphelios, whose already pulled down his mask to quietly enjoy his meal. After a beat, you lower your restraints, and slowly take a bite. You immediately stiffen and gag, spitting up into a napkin. There's definitely pickles—loads of them.

Aphelios almost chokes on his own laugher at your award winning expression of disgust. He slides his phone across the table:

Oh. Sorry. I thought you said extra pickles. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Freaking bastard! Before you can smack his phone off the table, he snatches it back to the safety of his pocket. With a growl, you slough off the heaps and slices of fermented food. You're able to de-pickle the patty, but there's little joy in eating something with the faint essence of the nastiest condiment.

And after a not-so-enjoyable lunch, he takes you to a nearby pâtisserie for dessert. While waiting, and you have a half a mind to run out. Or call the local circus so they can come get their evil clown back. You're terrified to see what he's planning to bring you. And when he does, your mouth instantly waters. You stare down at a cute, decorative dessert parfait. It looks perfect with no hidden pickles (don't put it past him though). Your eyes glisten at the extravagant layers of yogurt, fruit compote, and whipped cream. Not to mention, the glazed whole strawberries on top, glittering with snow powder sugar. Giddy with excitement, you almost forget the silent devil sitting next to you. Before you can take the first bite, Aphelios intercepts your hand, brings it to his lips, and claims it for himself.

There's only one spoon, you know. And like any good girlfriend, it only makes sense to hand feed her boyfriend. Down to the very. last. bite.

There's a twitch in your face. You really want to dump the whole dessert pile onto his head. Unfortunately, that would be a major insult to the parfait. Exhaling your fury through your nostrils, you belly the desire to murder him with a plastic spoon. Grumbling, you perform your embarrassing 'girlfriend' duty. Nearing the end of this round of torture, he smiles—all at your expense, of course.

Wow. Am I full. Thanks for that. I'm actually feeling kind of generous from all your devoted attention. Tell you what. I'll let you have the last bite.

"Yeah, right," you snort. "Like I would ever share the same spoon with you, let alone anything you've touched on this Earth—hmph!" Before you can finish your berating monologue, Aphelios flips your hand around and slips the spoon inside your mouth.

ㅉㅉ You shouldn't talk with your mouth full. Silly. You might choke. And I rather not have that on my conscious.

You whine, trying to swallow your way through a verbal tantrum. Who knew it'd be so difficult to argue with delicious yogurt in your mouth? Still, reality settles shortly after the sweetness melts from your tongue. A certain thought springs a bitter aftertaste. For all intents and purposes, you both just shared an indirect kiss.

You smack the spoon on the table, feeling your face heat up. Yet, he's just sitting there, sly with composure. Not bothered by any of it—this sick 'fake dating' sims game. It wasn't fair. Nothing about this was fair! How many times did you have such an experience through your dating visual novel games? Too many to count. Yet, despite all those perfect moments with your various 2-D boyfriends, this fake 3-D imposter, just ruined the whole trope experience for you. There was no way you could replay those scenes and not think about your suffering today. You would damn this man to Hell again, but obviously, he enjoys vacationing there.

It was funny when you thought your gruelling date would conclude after dessert. Aphelios made sure to think of various, and random places to drag you to for no good reason. He's perfecting the art of physically and mentally exhausting you. Stroll in the park? He may or may not have put a caterpillar on your head. Watch you freak out about it, and then relish in having you beg him to help you. Lovely time window shopping at an outdoor mall? He makes sure to slip away and watch you panic trying to find him in the mass of busy bodies. Before you know where your head's at, you blink up against lit downtown buildings, store fronts and street lights.

Well, today's been fun. Just one last thing to make this date perfect. Something my girlfriend will definitely love.

An all too knowing smile creases his mask again. Taking your hand, he leads you away to the next destination in mind. With your eyes half-lidded with fatigue and feet already beaten to a pulp by your heels, you force yourself to stop caring. Like everything else, you'll just go along with it and pray it's over soon.

⌜LUV-U ♡ HOTEL⌟

Your mouth drops at the sight of a pink and flickering neon sign a few steps away. Did he really just drag you to a Love Hotel!? You swallow hard. Nevermind, you did care. You cared a lot! "This has to be a joke, right? You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you take me inside—"

You're cut short as you're tugged forward. Nearing the entrance, your heart pounds louder than the surrounding nightlife. Your thoughts are racing. And watching another couple walk out looking rather satisfied with their stay doesn't help your emotions at all. That is, until he casually leads you past the hotel and around the corner, where there's vending machine against the wall. He releases his hold and gestures to it.

What are you talking about? Take you inside where? And no. There's no joke about this being the best vending machine in town for canned coffee. ㅎ_ㅎ

You stare with dumbfounded horror as he purchases two cans, and places one in your stiff hands. You look down at your coffee and contemplate just about everything up till this point. How big of a mistake it was to meet someone like him. Worse yet, be at his mercy over a stupid bet you set in place...and actually lost. How did your life turn out this way? Regret and humiliation well up as tears against your eyes. You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth. With the last of your dignity on the line; you'd rather die at this point than cry in front of him.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ APHELIOS lowers his drink from his lips, watching you from the side of his lashes. Looks like you were at your limit. Maybe he went a little too far. But every bit of his ego wants to rationalize it was well deserved. A pestering knot tightens like a fist at the base of his sternum. It bothers him enough to turn his neutral expression into a frown. His gaze catches your trembling legs, and traces them all the way down to your heels. His eyes widen by a margin; it's insane to think you hadn't complained about your feet hours ago. Looks like that knot wasn't going away anytime soon.

He tosses away your cans and raises his phone:

Take off your heels.

"What?" You're at a complete loss for words. Was he now going to force you to walk barefoot on the gross streets? You shake your head. "No way. Forget it. If you want me to take them off so bad, then do it yourself—Jerk!"

Aphelios flutters his eyelids in annoyance. More so that, for a split moment, he found himself not entirely hating the insult used against him. Forgetting the stupid interruption of his brain, he bends down and starts unlacing your straps. "H-Hey, wait a second you freaking weirdo. I didn't actually mean it literally."

It doesn't take much effort to hoist you onto his back, wrap your arms around his neck, and press your thighs snug against his waist. He anticipates a spit fire reaction. To his surprise, you simply huff and puff out your cheeks, muttering another possible insult. Honestly, he was sure you would've taken this opportunity to choke him out in a headlock. (He would've done it, but glad you didn't).

With a final adjustment, he hands you his cell phone, open with the map application. It seems it takes you a moment to realize he wants you to put your address so that he can dump you back wherever you live.

"You really plan on carrying me all the way to my house?" He can't see your expression, but by delivery alone, he can hear the blush in your cheeks. After a few taps and a mutter, he gets his phone back. "You better delete my address later. Or your new name's going be 'Stalker'."

Aphelios can't help but scuff. Like he would waste any more of his free time on inflating your already big head. He wonders how you even manage to fit your head through any shirt holes.

For a short while, you don't speak. As he walks through more quieter neighborhood streets, he feels your body condense further into his back.

"Mm, you know, for a being a cold jerk...somehow, you feel super warm," you breathe sleepily against his earlobe.

After a mumble or two, you commit to a terribly sleepy idea. Closing your eyes, you place your lips against his neck. Lingering, your mouth is soft and warm against his skin. Slightly sticky from whatever lip gloss you still have left. After the longest moment of his life, you abandon your spot. But he can feel your sleep drunk smile from how close your lips still are.

"Heh, there..I already kissed you, so...now you can't make me do it later....jerk."

When you finally doze off with light breathes and snores, Aphelios comes to a complete halt. It takes a moment to process. Then, without his consent, his neutral complexion flushes bright pink. The spot where you kissed him feels like it's burning a hole straight through him, down to his thumping pulse. He exhales a hot and heavy breath. It's warm enough to puff in the night air. With a shake of his head, he finds his walking pace, continuing towards your apartment.

He refuses to let you sway him with whatever tricks and flirts you have up your sleeve. He wasn't a swoonful idiot like most. And Aphelios knows he has a whole month worth of you still left. He'd make sure you always knew who you were dealing with. And by the end of it all, he'd make sure you'd never be able to get him off your mind.

A brewing smirk lifts one corner of his lips. This game was going to be more fun than he expected. And just like every other game, he would ultimately win.

Too bad for you, he mused to himself.

an;; ahhh thank you all for all your sweet messages i've been receiving through my hiatus. really appreciate it. trying to get back in the swing of things of answering anon. reqs. and working on my cleaning lady fic as well.

ngl, i swear, i hc so hard the phel can be such a sadistic/vengful bitch hell bent ruining anyone's life. like hes so unbothered by things and keeps to himself, that the minute you try to test him in that department, yeah no, you're officially on his shit list for life. how sweet how my man can hold grudge. &lt;3

[apomaro-mellow]

Got inspired by this

Steve regretted laughing. Which is something he never thought he'd feel. But as he cackled at something Robin said, he saw the look on Dustin's face and wished he could take the laugh back. Robin went to go and show a customer something and Dustin slid over to him.

"Remind me again how she isn't 'the one'?"

"She's a one. One of a kind. The kind I don't wanna lose by asking her out."

"Whatever happened to the Harrington charm?", Dustin asked.

"Doesn't work on girls like Robin." Steve ignored him by trying to escape to the backroom. Of course Dustin followed, employees only be damned.

"I don't even think you've tried. Which confuses me. But what's got me even more confused is how you've seemed to stop trying altogether."

"Why are you so invested in my love life, huh?"

"Ew, gross", Dustin winced. "I'm not invested. I'm just tired of hearing you whine about never finding love-"

"I don't whine!"

"SO just ask her out already. Even if she says no, you can still be friends. Like Jonathan and Nancy."

Steve rolled his eyes. Then saw a lightbulb go off in Dustin's head.

"Well since Nancy's single again-"

"I'm gay!"

For the first time ever Dustin shut his trap. Steve thought he should get a trophy for this. Except he realized what he just said. Dustin, with all the grace of someone who had just been blindsided, hugged Steve tight.

"I'm...I'm here for you, man."

It was so sweet that it made Steve feel like shit. But only a little. Because now Dustin couldn't keep trying to matchmake him and Robin. Or Nancy.

Turns out the love boat only stopped for a couple days.

Steve was hanging out in his room when he heard footsteps approach. Dustin came in without a single knock.

"Um, hello? How did you get in?"

"Some lady let me in."

Steve raised a brow. "You mean my mom?"

Dustin shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, what about Gary?"

"....Who? For what?"

"Gary? He works at the art supply store. He's gay, why not him?"

Steve shot up and shut his door like a zombie was coming. "What the fuck are you talking about Henderson?!", he hissed quietly.

"Gay people deserve love too, Steve. So how about it?"

Steve rubbed his face. Forget about how Dustin knew about some random dude's sexuality, apparently he wasn't one to be deterred.

"You can't just set me up with any guy. Or any gay guy."

"You've slept around with just any girl? Why are guys different? Seems pretty discriminatory Steve."

He wanted to strangle this kid. More than that though, he wanted to go back and slap his past self. He could have said anything. Said he was into old ladies-no, then Dustin would be sending him on blind dates to the senior center.

It felt like the only thing to get Dustin off his case would be if he was in a serious relationship with someone.

Then a second person came into his room without knocking and Steve wondered if he should be walking around naked more.

It was Jonathan.

And Steve got another bright idea.

"I can't just go out with anyone. Because I'm already dating Jonathan."

"What?!", two voices shouted out and Dustin gave Jon a look.

"Why do you sound surprised?"

Jonathan looked to Steve for help and Steve tried to convey the best he could with his eyes.

"I...we never....put a label on it....?"

Steve could kiss him if he was at all interested in men. To sell it a little better, he put an arm around his shoulders. Dustin was left speechless for the second time in a week and Steve was definitely putting it in his journal for posterity.

This time he gave them both pats on the back and walked out silently.

"Don't tell anyone!", Steve shouted behind him, then closed his bedroom door.

"Hey, um, the hell?", Jonathan asked.

"Thank you for being so cool with that."

"I'm learning to be more chill. But still, explain?"

Steve told him the whole story as they sat on his bed and through it all, Jonathan looked nothing but understanding.

"So, how long do we need to pretend to be boyfriends?"

"Who says we need to pretend?", Steve raised a brow.

"You just told Dustin."

"It's a secret we're keeping", Steve said, getting up to pace about his room. "Which means we just act normal. Later we can tell Dustin we broke up."

"How much later?"

Steve pondered. "....Once I'm engaged?"

"Steve!"

"Jonathan, please?"

He looked conflicted. This just seemed like a lot of stupid work just to convince Dustin. "You get 2 months? Got it? Put it on your calendar."

"Thank you! I'll do it right now!" Steve grabbed a pen and went over to the calendar that hung on the wall. He went to February 3rd and put a broken heart on the date.

"Subtle."

"No one else looks at this thing. Alright. If our break up is bad enough maybe Dustin will stop butting his head in."

"What if the others find out?", Jonathan asked.

"No one else is gonna know."

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

Lucas had been noticing that Dustin had that weird grin on his face for the past week. The 'I know something you don't know' grin. While sitting in Steve's living room, shoulder to shoulder with Max, who he nudged.

"You notice anything off with Dustin?"

"You mean more than the usual offness? Yes, actually."

"What do you think it is?", Lucas asked.

Will came to sit on Lucas' other side. "My guess is he has a secret. But what, I don't know."

"So it's pretty obvious, right?", Lucas said.

"No, I said as much to Mike and he said I was being crazy and that Dustin wouldn't keep anymore secrets after Dart."

Their eyes went over to Dustin, who was grinning at the group who was deciding on the movie they were gonna watch. Steve and Eddie were in a heated conversation while Jonathan was trying to be a mediator.

Steve was flapping around a vhs so hard it threatened to sail across the room and Jonathan grabbed his wrist to still it, scared for the innocent movie.

"Get a room, you lovebirds", Dustin called out.

All eyes turned towards him.

Part 2

[bruinsbabydaddyy]

Desert Sunsets

He was nervous, Like sweating from every pore nervous. But of course, you wouldn't have noticed that between the steep climbing and the Arizona sun, you could only focus on surviving this beast of a hike you for some reason agreed to go on. You wouldn't have if he wasn't so weirdly adamant about going. Usually, when you tell him you don't wanna exercise with him he just sighs and walks away. But not this time, this time he practically begged, and played every card he had including a movie night of whatever you wanted and multiple promised coffee runs. What made things even worse was you weren't even in the cool air of Toronto you had grown accustomed to in the multiple years of living with Auston.

 but you were back in AZ and usually, you did okay with the summer heat when you had AC in the comfort of your Scottsdale apartment even with the sun setting it was still scorching, but on the plus side apparently, Auston couldn't take the heat either and had lost his shirt about a mile and a half ago and that was the only motivation you needed to keep your head up, as you were approaching what you were praying to be the top he looked back at you and you noticed something in his eyes, a kind of fear like he was waiting for you to run for the hills and not look back but you couldn't, you wouldn't dream of it these past few years had been the best of your life, you would walk to the ends of the earth if he asked you too. A shaky voice broke your thoughts “babe come up here for a sec” “give me a second felix is really into this bush” as you pull the doodle to your side and make your way up the little pathway the view hits you,various shades of pink an orange fill the desert sky and all of the thoughts leave your head “is this what heaven feels like” is all you can seem to get out.

you hear a chuckle behind you as you take out your phone to capture the moment,it felt like eternity as you were trying to get that perfect picture that you'd completely end up forgetting to post in the end but what broke you away from that screen was the shaky breath coming from the man behind you and as you turn around you immediately felt yourself tearing up and from the looks of Austons face he was about to as well 

“honey I owe everything I am today to you,you have got me through some of my hardest days and made my best a thousand times better,You have stuck by my side and single handedly been my biggest support system when i was trying to navigate through a whole new life in Toronto,you have been the best mom to felix and I know your gonna be an even better one to our kids one day. Hell you dropped everything to move across the country with me and I know I'll never be able to repay you for everything you've done for me and our relationship but I'd like to spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me” by this point you fully sobbing and he's even slipped a few tears. “I would love to” you manage to choke out in between sobs that are slowly turning into laughs as you see his face relax and the stress in his eyes fade to a love you've only seen in movies and Taylor swift songs. He pulls you into the tightest embrace he can muster and he holds you in front of the desert sunset

[somberjoon]

SYZYGY [1]

✩ pairing: alpha namjoon x chubby fem!omega reader

✩ genre: wonderous , soulmates , strangers to "friends" to lovers , fluff , romance🔞 , life lessons , slice-of-life , brief angsty situations , happy ending

✩ word count: 6.4k

✩ chapter warnings: cussing , cover art does not depict fmc features, drinking / mention of bar hopping , Namjoon is drunk upon meeting FMC but there is nothing that happens! , lots of inside feelies and thought processes

✩ summary: Namjoon would say that he truly lives the normal life. As an alpha, he works the job he wants, he goes out when he has time, and he has never received a single late-fee on payments. He's living the mundane life- until an unknown omega literally drops into his life. Where did she come from? Why him?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 ...

“It is your time, precious one.” 

“What if- what if I’m scared?” 

“You have no reason to be fearful.” 

“I was born to do this- he is just a man, an alpha that I know nothing of- what if we are not compatible like you say we will be?” 

“Do you find me inconsistent in the success of my pairings, precious one?”

“No, I am just afraid I will not live up to your expectations now that I am to be on my own.” 

“Oh, my dear, that is the reason you were matched.” 

“What?”

“Please, trust me once more and trust yourself always from now on.”

“Of course.”

“It is she that loves all thy flaws.”

“It is she that loves all thy flaws.”

Namjoon

It’s another small bar that plays shitty remixes. The only good things about these places are the owners with their intimate service and the perfectly made drinks. 

“What song is this?” Namjoon just about screams into Jimin’s ear. Another remix plays, probably by a newer pop star that he has yet to familiarize himself with. 

“I don’t know or care! It’s your turn!” Jimin points at the messy stack of cards in the middle of the small table. Namjoon gives a lazy eye roll and intently looks at the cards in his hands once again. 

“Do you have a five?” He turns to Seokjin to scream into his ear. 

“Hah! Go fish, bitch.” Namjoon begrudgingly pulled another card from the only neat stack on the table. 

“Can we pick something else?” Namjoon yells between the two, hoping to God that they heard him and will take pity on him. 

This is the one night in a whole month that he has had time to go out and forget about his job. The first shitty bar was just what he needed. Drinks were made with alcohol that was poured with a heavy hand and the music was chosen perfectly. You always have to start with the loud, dance club settings when you bar hop. Then, by the end of the night, you’re sitting at a chill bar that provides board games for its patrons and puts the correct amount of alcohol into drinks. Plus, if you have the right vibes, you can score some free samples. By now, the owners have given them a few too many and all three of them should definitely leave soon. 

“I have a better idea!” Jimin yells. Instead of the others responding, they just wait for Jimin to say what’s next on the agenda. He’s basically been running the whole night, deciding where they go next and what the feel is after each one. He’s the pro. 

“Let’s go home.” 

“Thank god.” Namjoon mumbles to himself. Immediately starting to put their cards away in a mess of backwards and upside down stacks. It was Seokjin’s turn to pay for the tab, so he’s up and heading for the main bartender in a hurry. Apparently they’ve all had enough for the night. By now it’s not just fun noiseless thinking and laughing about ‘the good old days’, it’s tired mumbling and sighing at the hit of cool air that greets them outside of the bar. 

“Ugh, Joon, you should just let us crash at your place. I really can’t imagine the price of a cab right now.” 

“I don’t care, I just wan' be horizontal as soon as possible.” Namjoon mumbles at them, already leading the way to his studio apartment. 

"You're such a fuckin' nerd." Seokjin giggles to himself, making Jimin join in."

"Because I use 'horizontal'? Ya'll can fight over the fuckin' couch cuz' you're not sleepin' withme in my big, sof' bed." 

That just eggs them on more, leaving Namjoon to lead the way as they stumble along behind him.

-

“Uh…Namjoon?”

Seokjin’s unsure voice asks behind Namjoon as he clicks his apartment door’s locks into place. His limbs seem to lag as he tries to peel his shoes and jacket off. 

“What?”

“I thought you said you didn’t go out last night.”

“Bro, I didn’t.” Namjoon adds a whiny ending in his answer. Both Seokjin and Jimin have been asking if he went out without them- the whole night he’s had to convince them he stayed in on a Friday night to work.

“Then, why is there an omega in your living room?”

“There’s not an ‘mega in my liv-” Namjoon finally pries his shoes off and turns to find a female standing just next to his couch. Her scent hits him like a bag of bricks- it’s fucking everywhere, like she scented ever piece of fabric in the house and pushed out some more just for extra measure. 

“Alpha!” Her bright eyes land on his still adjusting eyes. He’s trying his best to piece together why the fuck this is happening. He must be really fucking drunk. They must all be. There wouldn’t be a random omega in his home. He hasn’t touched another person in months thanks to the workload he has. 

“Namjoon? She’s talking to you.” Jimin pipes up, trying to cover his nose with his jacket sleeve. He can’t think the smell is bad can he? Namjoon thinks her scent is nice, really good, perfect even- but as his eyes turn to Jimin and Seokjin he can see their discomfort. 

“You’re talking to me?” Namjoon asks stupidly. He can’t, for the life of him, get ahold of a single thought. There’s no reason for her to be here talking to him. 

“Yes. I’ve been waiting for you.” She says surely. “She sent me to you.” She ends with a giddy smile. 

“Namjoon if you’ve got some weird roleplay going on please let us leave.” Seokjin says finally, pushing Namjoon into his apartment more to dispel the situation and- apparently- leave the stunned, drunk alpha alone with this unknown omega. 

“Who are you?” He asks, studying her to try and figure out if this was an omega he forgot he had a thing with before. Namjoon can’t imagine her as anyone he’s been with before- he’d surely remember a face like her’s, a scent so perfect. 

“Y/N. I’m your gift!” She says with certainty, never letting her smile leave as she waits for him to react to her. Instead, he just feels extremely light headed. With a few slowed-blinks, Namjoon collapses to the ground with a few thuds. 

-

"Please don't die. Please, please don't have drunk too much and die before I could do anything."

Namjoon wakes to a pounding in his head that seems to be speaking to him as well. A foreign voice worries around him. It isn't until a touch to his forehead that has him bolting up from a lying position to come face to face with a woman that he definitely thought he dreamt up.

"Oh, thank The Goddess! I thought you drank too much." Namjoon tries to push himself away from the woman, going as far back to his headboard as he can get. 

"I definitely drank too much, 'cuz who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you'd remember." He watches confused as she seems to straighten the hoodie she has on- a hoodie he realizes is definitely his- and prepares herself for an introduction. 

"I'm Y/N, your personal omega match." She gives him a grinning greeting that shows her confidence and content in a situation he sure as hell isn't familiar with.

"What- what does that mean?" Namjoon tries to rub the hangover from his eyes, an ache being soothed only when a constant pressure is held to his temples. He listens to her as he continues his ministrations.

"The Goddess raises us, teaches us how to be perfect for our matches. No matter the combination, no matter the gender identity- there's always a match for someone. But, the chosen match only goes through if the one we are matched to deserves it. Our safety is her number one priority."

He takes in this headache of an explanation, trying his best to piece together why the hell he was chosen. He's trying to figure out if this is really happening to him- if this is real, despite him knowing of those that had been 'gifted' an alpha, beta, or omega. 

"I can help you with the pain, I was taught how to alleviate hangover symptoms."

"No, no it's fine, don't touch me." Her face falls at what he says upon opening his eyes. The look of devastation on her face worries him, itching to figure out why what he said had made her so unsettled.

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

"I have been touching you. I brought you to the bed and made sure you didn't sleep with your jeans on. And I've been switching out the cool rags all night to check if you were still sweating. I definitely should have asked."

The scent he was so used to he forgot about it, is now mixed with a burnt equivalent. 

“It’s alright. I was- yeah I don’t remember much. So, thank you for helping me.” 

“Of course! I love helping, I could make you soup if you’d like. I- I don’t know what you like yet but if you let me know what you need right now I can figure it out.” 

Namjoon gives pause at the sheer want that’s on her face, the softness in her scent now. He’s never had another person in his home making him things and wanting to take care of him besides Seokjin and Jimin. Those two will try to help him out whenever he even voices a discomfort, but this stranger is sat kneeling on his bed, tending to him as if he means something to her. He doesn’t know how this works exactly, where she comes from and why she’s so comfortable with him without knowing anything about him. He can’t just take advantage of her either. He’ll learn. 

-

Even as Namjoon prepares a soup he would most definitely not have put the effort into making any other time he was drunk, Y/N is looking over his shoulder and watching what he does every step of the way. Just as his dog at his parents house used to do, she’s right on his heels, trying to memorize the steps. Even worse, her scent is giddy-ingly releasing as if she’s not in control of it. Luckily, he finishes it without spilling or burning himself, setting the bowls on his only place to properly eat in his apartment- a small peninsula in his kitchen that extends to fit four people. He sits to find one Y/N having already gotten him water and found acetaminophen to set next to his bowl. 

“So, you were busy while you were waiting for me, huh?” Namjoon quips more than anything. He gestures to the air around them, the scent. His dry humor doesn’t seem to hit the spot, though.

“I’m sorry about that as well. I was so excited to see a home, your home, and your space. And- I know it’s important to not interfere but it just- came out.” She cringes at herself, her eyes finally leaving him to focus on her bowl of food. Namjoon finds himself hiding his smile in his bite of food, savoring the flavor that he hasn’t had in a while. His amusement doesn’t last long with his overthinking. The first bite of her soup is at her lips before he asks. 

“Did it smell bad? Is my scent not- ya’ know? Not good?” 

“No! Not at all. Your scent is- well- really good to put it simply. At first I was just so excited my own scent was pushing out, but then- I smelled you. It was addicting, and I found I was just curious about what our scents are like together. I’m sorry I disturbed your space.”

“It’s okay-”

“You don’t have to lie to me to make me feel better.” She states. 

“I’m not. You’ll come to learn I’m very verbal about my wants and disinterests- so I’m telling the truth when I say that your scent is ‘really good’ as well.” Namjoon makes a point to jab at her earlier description, finally bringing another smile to her face. 

“Okay, I’ll remember that. And I’m glad you like it.” She shyly admits. 

“Now that we know that, though, let’s just try not to push it out as much until we get to know each other better- just so we don’t act on instincts too haphazardly.” Namjoon politely suggests. He’d never put someone’s scent over consent and their verbal wants and needs- but if they are truly matched by The Goddess, then he knows that an interest will develop and then scents cloud instincts and will make them both do things they may regret. 

Looking at Y/N now, he can imagine it. He can imagine her being the omega he’d do anything for. Right now, his imagination is only based on what The Goddess has given him, though. That’s the problem. He needs to know her inside and out, not just her sweet, warm scent. The softness of her hair- long, warm brown curls that cascade down to her hips- needs to be a feeling that he could recall into his fingers at any moment. He would need to be able to lick his lips and taste her on them. She’d need to be ingrained into him, just as much as he makes sure he’s the same for her. They are the only two that will know each other as intimately as he wishes. Until then, he will care for her as he’s supposed to, and they will get to know each other- as friends. 

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And I’m guessing you had no clothes?” 

“I didn’t know they’d drop me here naked, I just grabbed the first things I found comfortable.” Again, she seems to be more embarrassed of herself in that realization, but she pushes on. “I can get a job. The Goddess taught me how to have good communication and hard work.” 

He didn’t think of that. Should she work? Does she want to work?

“For now, let’s just see how things workout, and if you wish to work, I’ll help you with the process. If you enjoy being here without one, or find out you hate it, then no big deal- I earn enough. Let’s get you some clothes today, though, some things that are better suited for your skin, yeah?” Her eyes light up immediately, her eyes never leaving Namjoon in the dark about how she feels. He likes that already. 

“I can go outside today?” 

“Y/N, you can go outside whenever you want-” He catches her ready to interrupt but he can already guess what she’ll ask. “We’ll talk about scenting another time. But, I am not going to tell you what you can and can’t do. I’m assuming you want to stay here-” A few satisfied nods from her is the answer. “Then we’ll have some basic rules. We tell each other where we’re going, or if we want to go out and do something- just so we know and just so we’re both as safe as possible. We don’t invade each other’s privacy ever- when doors are shut we always knock and when we’re curious about something we ask. We tell each other how we feel if we are having issues or when one wishes to communicate a change in the rules. We are two separate people who have our own needs, and we both need to respect that. I think those are most important, but- do you want to add or change anything?” 

“I appreciate how thorough you are, but where do I sleep?” 

-

"How about this? It's soft and similar to the one you're wearing." 

"Hmmm, I don't know if this is what I want to wear daily, though." 

"How about we just get some basics you immediately like and then we'll get more later on when you figure out what you like in broader areas."

The main issue with shopping for a once-celestial-being is that clothing was never a unique-based choice for them. Everything was uniform and based only on what that person chose to cover. 

"I like simple things, but I just want some more color." 

Namjoon scans the racks of the clothing, but only the sections with more colors. Even then, all of the clothing in the women's section is different. Cuts and flares are different or nonexistent. He finally just looks up to ask a question, but finds Y/N with two arms full of choices. 

"There's just so much and I've never tried them before…can I just try stuff on?" 

-

Namjoon waits an odd amount of time to see the first outfit that Y/N shows him. It's not a crowded store, nor are the stores around them busy. But, when she walks out with a tight forest green crop top that obviously shows she has no bra on he immediately feels like every eye is on them. He's not one that cares about it, he's definitely a 'free the nipple' kinda' guy. But the very brief sight has him standing up immediately from the waiting chairs and blocking her from the small entrance that people could see through. 

"This one is so soft and I love this color. The skirt is a little weird, though. Does it look okay?" 

Namjoon pulls his glued gaze from her face to travel down her body. A body that he is now seeing in a new light. The clothes fit as if they were made for her- even a small pudge of her stomach sticks out between the top and the skirt to pull his gaze in. The skirt isn't weird, it's a creme colored, long cargo skirt that is probably a new style he's a little unaware of. If anything, it's perfect and is as lovely as she sounds. It matches her, unlike his hoodies and matching sweats- though he has to stop himself from wishing she’d just wear his clothing all the time. He gets to her feet, his oversized socks and the smaller pair of slippers that Jimin usually wears in his apartment are on her feet. It's so cute and so soft that he has to completely ignore it to give her an honest sounding answer.

"It looks really good." He says it with a heady voice, already obsessed with how everything looks on her. "Is it comfortable?" He changes the topic to not have to say more than he needs to.

"Yes! I tried on some jeans but the baggier stuff and skirts are more comfortable right now. I can try those later on. I like the sweats and softer stuff, this one was just one I wanted your opinion on." 

"Okay, grab whatever you'd like and then we can get shoes and bedding." Namjoon turns before she answers, hoping he isn't stinking up the damn shop.

Now that they’ve left the clothing shop, Namjoon feels like he can breathe. Despite Y/N having already chosen what she’d found comfortable, she wanted his opinion on a few more options just so she didn’t get ‘too much’. He really didn’t mind buying everything she liked, but she was insistent on living with only necessities- just as she did before she was ‘dropped’. That’s how she describes it, so he will as well. All her clothing is plain and is like her clothing before, as she described. Tight, simple bands and flowy fabrics that were different shades of and between white and black. Now, she just wants to add color and, apparently, his opinion. 

“Why do I need extra bedding? Is there an omega version of most personal items? It was always pretty equal before- everything was perfect.”

“I think that’s the point of being directly raised by The Goddess, it’s all catered to you. You don’t think that a blanket could be two different things to one person there? Like, perfectly soft and fuzzy to you but silky and cool for another.”

“Oh, I never thought about it that way. We just got necessities there and, to be honest, there wasn’t a need to share.”

“It’s just easier for those here to have their own stores or versions of preferred necessities because of your skin. Clothing and bedding is softer in certain stores, products can be found in a large variety based on needs and wants as well, and depending on your second gender there are just other needs you have- you know that though.” Namjoon really hopes that this won’t be a conversation he has to have when they barely know each other. He couldn’t imagine The Goddess making things as important as heats and ruts to be something unnecessary in Her ‘magical land above’. 

“Yes, I know. I’m already recognizing that face you make. Please don’t be shy with me- I kind of lied about sharing things back then- we shared heats and ruts with each other if we wished. It wasn’t sacred there like it is here- it was just a means for survival and The Goddess knew it was something that was our choice. Here, though, it’s far more special and we are taught that- I’m only yours, and if you'd like, you’ll be mine.” 

She says these things with such confidence and assurance. He can’t just let her be this open without him giving that energy back, but he’s more so just not ready. This time to get to know her is crucial and keeping their personal information separate if wanted is important to him. He also can’t blame her, she just told him that their bodies were shared if wanted based on survival, and they were watched over all the time and provided for without having much of a say. It’s all just another thing to learn- he’ll learn to get used to her nonchalance. 

“When it comes up we’ll talk about that then and figure it out together.” Namjoon assures her, hoping he sounds as reassuring as possible. 

“Okay. Ooh, these are nice!” Y/N points at a specific type of blanket in one section. She touches the samples of comforters that line the wall under each different type on the shelf. He likes these comforters as well, the airy, padded blankets provide warmth but don’t make you sweat in the hotter months. 

“These ones are good during the hotter seasons as well- I think they’d be good.”

“Can I get two? For nesting.” 

This part doesn’t take long at all. Namjoon suggests some things and lets her pick out whatever her heart desires as this is all stuff he’ll be less helpful in. By the end, Namjoon is carrying the two clothing bags, and two regular pillows while Y/N’s usual giddy face doesn’t struggle at all to carry the two comforters and two plushies she thought ‘looked like him’. He tried denying the panda, but the koala wasn’t an awful comparison. (He folded immediately). 

“What’s next?” She asks with excitement on her face.

“We plan dinner and then go to bed.” 

“Oh..okay!” The excitement leaves her, but only for a second. 

She never thinks long about what it is she’s taking in. She’d definitely not one to take things lightly, as she said she’d been memorizing his fucking expressions, so it’s probably just content. She’s content to be here and do whatever he suggests because that’s all she knows. 

“How about we go out to dinner? Is there anything you like?” He watches her think for another slow couple of seconds, and then she’s excited again to talk to him. 

“Whatever is your favorite. I’d like to just try something new.”

“You’re going to be sorely disappointed.” Namjoon gives her a mischievous smile that’s more fond-looking when it’s directed at her. 

-

It’s a seedy pizza spot that is honestly not actually all seedy. Namjoon was never one to judge a place or person on how they look- so, when he stumbled upon this place that seemed to be the only thing open after a late-night recording session, he gave it a shot. It’s shitty on the outside with a dirty, worn down awning that could just be black on purpose and a sign that you can barely read. The inside is far better, luckily. It’s as clean as you could probably get the place without gutting it, and the owner is the one making the pizzas. It’s not very seedy because of that and the fact that the owner won’t share his real name. He named it ‘Mario’s’ only because he likes the games and wanted people to think he knew what the fuck he was doing. So, Namjoon isn’t sure- but the pizza’s fucking amazing. 

Y/N doesn’t look like she should be walking into the establishment. She’s bright-eyed and wanting to take in the world as it is her first time seeing it, technically. He doesn’t know how exactly she lived or what she has seen, but it really seems as if she’s appreciative of even the dust lining the crevices of the flooring. 

“Hey, music man. The usual?” 

“Yeah, but double it, please.” 

“Ooh, pretty lady here.” Despite Namjoon never having a jealous moment in his life before this, he immediately tenses up at the attention he gives her.

“Hi! I’m Y/N.”

“Very sweet, well I’ve seen you in here by yourself too many times- so, I’ll charge you for one order today, ey? Nice date, nice price.” 

“Thanks, man.” Namjoon tries to get the conversation over with, looking over to Y/N to see that she doesn’t mind one bit.

“Is this a date?” She suddenly asks, bouncing off the idea that the owner obviously put into her head.

“Just dinner as friends right now. I’d let you know if it was a date, I’m really possessive.” Namjoon says it a little louder than necessary as he leads her to a booth seat that conceals her from the counter’s view. “Let me pay, I’ll be right back.” 

Namjoon misses the giddy smile that Y/N has at the new information she now holds in getting to know her alpha. They aren’t each other’s yet, but he’s all she knows right now and he’s treating her so well. It seems bound to happen that he’ll become closer to her- her's, in all senses that she finds meaningful. It’ll mean she’s doing well, and that she won’t disappoint The Goddess or Namjoon. 

The wait isn’t long, Namjoon’s favorite part besides the perfect slices of pizza. 

“One pepperoni slice and one cheese. I’m a simple man.” 

“I like simple.” Is all she tells him with a shrug before she greedily eats the cheese slice. She talks as she eats, not caring for the food in her mouth. “Wow, there was nothing like this! We didn’t need to eat, but there were cravings in our time of heat. I usually craved something sweet, and with only the necessities being our priority it was usually fruit. We learned to cook basic things as well- breads, soups, and different kinds of rice.” 

Namjoon feels comfortable talking with a half-full mouth now as well, becoming more and more comfortable with a stranger that he just acquainted himself with this morning. 

“You’re in luck, besides music, I’m a professional take-out order-er.” 

“Mmm,” it seems she takes that information and is already imagining the good food that she doesn’t know exists yet. “I didn’t know you made music- that’s your job?” 

“Yeah, I produce music but I’m mostly at home doing it. Sometimes I’ll go in to help with a recording, but that’s not often. I just get paid to make the beats or change lyrics whenever they need help with that.” 

“That’s really cool. Could I hear something sometime?” She looks so interested, so enthralled by him that he almost chokes up at the attention she’s giving him. He doesn’t feel worthy as an alpha to be someone she’s interested in. He’s never had someone look at him like he has all the answers and can provide for her without a second thought. He knows this is a learning process for them both, but he’s thinking that she’s already set on whatever it is she was made for- while he’s just a man that is still figuring out everything himself. A stable job and a home that he can provide isn’t enough. He isn’t enough yet. 

“You’ll probably hear it all the time when I’m working during the week.” 

“Yay.” She gives him that same smile, now with her lips sealed because of the food in her mouth. Grease stains her lips and he has to push down the want to wipe it from her. Her lips, now that he’s looking, are plump and the pink of them is hiding under a layer of orange grease. Despite that, they’re still kissable, memorable, probably soft and pliant in times of need-

“Here’s a napkin.” 

“Thank you!” She takes it and immediately uses it. 

He has to stop doing that.

-

It’s only once they’re home and have hauled everything up to the apartment that Namjoon realizes it was a horrible idea to share the bed. He wants to be a gentleman and he doesn’t want to just push her away. She’s here for an obvious reason, they were matched- supposedly perfect for each other- and he only feels like a dick pushing her away to sleep on his uncomfortable couch. 

He shows her how to use the washing machine, and as they wait it’s far more awkward than he means for it to be. 

“Have you tried the TV yet?” Namjoon asks as she goes through her bag of clothes to show Namjoon the contents. He mentally smacks himself, he really didn’t have to ask, he could just turn it on and put a random show on to end the night. 

“No, I didn’t want to touch anything I wasn’t familiar with.” She’s nonchalant about it, why can’t he be nonchalant about it?

“Okay, I got these to sleep in, they didn’t have that many options so I hope I can borrow a shirt to sleep in if that’s okay?” She holds up a pair of sleep shorts that has far too little fabric. It’s her choice to wear them- he’s not a fucking teenager, he’ll be fine. 

“And I know it’s most decent, so I did find these to wear…” she has to find the tag and read them. “Sports bras.” She holds up the three-pack proudly to show him. Despite her being the one to show him, he feels invasive, immediately turning away after a quick smiling nod to turn on the TV.

“And then this skirt as well as this smaller one, and a more flowy one. The fabrics are nice- I like how different they are here.” 

“Very pretty.” He says, hoping it was normal enough. 

“Thank you! And then just a few more of those shirts like the green one and a couple hoodies and sweats like yours. We’ll match! Plus these shoes and socks will go with everything I got.” She excitedly looks over her things again and again. She’s so happy with just those, so happy with the simple things and the shitty restaurant that he’d never even think about taking a woman to unless they were much more comfortable together. 

In his thinking, he doesn’t notice Y/N standing in front of him until she’s holding up that pair of sleep shorts for him. He takes them without thinking, looking up from the couch to give her a questioning look. 

“You said we could talk about scenting later. Is scenting my clothes off-limits?” She looks down at him with worry in her eyes and a peak of worry slips through to make him weak in the- everything, really. 

“No, uh, no that’s okay.” It’s a possessive thing he feels when he scents the shorts, looking up at her as he gives them a good rub against his neck and even going the extra measure to make sure his scent is thick and potent. 

“There.” He hands them back, the soft fabric going straight to her nose to take in a whiff. He wants so badly to know how much she enjoys it, if she enjoys it as much as he enjoys her’s. She takes her time, then points to the pile of clothes. 

“Can you do the rest once those are clean?”

“Yeah.” It’s a breathy response, hanging onto the hope that he’ll be able to scent her at some point. Having his scent on her things, on her body, it truly finalizes the fact that she’s here for him. She was made to bless someone- all pretty omega, inside and out, and soft features with a soft body. She was made to bless him, he realizes. Though he doesn’t know if it was meant to be him from the beginning, she was still curated in a way that led them together. He doesn’t deserve it. Not when he’s clunky and unconfident in his abilities to be her alpha. His instincts are kicking in without the confidence to even put them to use. 

“Let’s get the bed ready, however you like it we can change it, yeah?” He’s suddenly antsy in his need to make his room presentable and safe. He’s grabbing both blankets and pillows and is in the bedroom before Y/N even makes it there, still becoming more and more tired after her adventures today. 

“Are you tired?” He asks, noticing her tired eyes and the shorts still lifted to her nose. He gets a nodding answer. Perfectly, maybe by fate even, the dryer chimes its finish, indicating that now both of her new blankets are clean and warm.

While he is just about freaking out over never having made a nest before, Y/N is at his side and pulling one thing at a time from his arms. She places the blankets haphazardly in his eyes, just making a small dip for her to cuddle into. Even in her fog of scent and growing tiredness, she is able to do what she needs for her comfortable nest. He even lingers on the fact that she’s making it on the correct side, probably having already noticed where his scent lingers the most. 

“Okay, we sleep.” she almost gets into the bed before Namjoon is tugging at her (his) hoodie, pulling her back. 

“No outside clothes. You need to be comfortable and clean.” She immediately obeys, pulling her (his) sweats down as he looks up at the ceiling to admire the texture. He remembers she needs one of his shirts so he uses that as an actual excuse, plucking a random one from the hangers to hand to her. He completely turns around for that part, waiting only until he hears her settle into the bed before he turns back to her. He catches her arm sticking out, patting the large space next to her, before disappearing again. 

She’s going to be the death of him, really. A pretty omega nesting in his bed. 

He’s a rod next to her. Stiff and trying to take up as little room as possible. He has work tomorrow and a new responsibility he has to navigate- he can’t just stay up all night and be useless in both ways. 

“Namjoon.” Despite how tired she was, she whispers to him with a lucid voice. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m just- I don’t know- tense? Could I…sleep with your hand?” 

This is more intimate than he thought it’d be. To have her in his bed, wanting his wrist to scent freely and maybe even scent herself. He’s not one to take scenting lightly. To him, it’s special, and should be sacred to the one he is to be with for the rest of his life. He was fine with the clothes, he maybe even thought about it a few times since their shopping trip- but is this too much too fast?

“Nevermind, I’m sorry, I know we didn’t talk about that yet.” She whispers again. 

“Y/N.” It’s silent for a few long seconds. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m not sure if I want to scent right now, but could I- could we just try this once and I can let you know how I feel?” 

“Are you sure? I know I just came to you so abruptly, I don’t want my presence to change your previous boundaries. I’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He really thinks about it, about how he’s felt before with others he’s been interested in. Even with Seokjin and Jimin, he’s never thought about scenting them or even needing to push out his own scent in situations that needed his ‘dominance’ for assistance. It was never something he prioritized, or had a reason for. So, the fact that it’s now wanted and needed, it feels intimate. But, maybe wanting to give this to her is what’s right. If not, and he’s reading this wrong, he’ll let her know. His own rule was to be open and to voice their concerns. 

“It’s okay, here.” He sticks out his arm before he can overthink it more. She takes his hand as if it were a precious jewel, her skin is just as soft as he imagined. Maybe it was even better- but he can’t explain it. All he knows is that his own skin seems to call out for her, yearning for a touch he has just met. A touch that he only knew of a second ago. He grasps onto her hand, rubbing his thumb into the back of it as she directs him to her nose. The brush of her nose is like static, a shock to his system that he’s never felt before. His sensitive scent gland there is immediately releasing his scent in wafts that she only snuggles closer to. 

“It’s so good. Is this okay?” She mumbles, clearly trying to keep a clear head as well. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself, but really he’s just trying to keep cool. “Do you feel better?” 

“Yes, it’s safe and warm. Thank you, Namjoon.” 

With her nose and upper lip pressed to his wrist- with a mumble of his name whispered into his own skin- he lets out a ragged breath, and he himself tries his best to drift to sleep. It isn’t long before he’s actually tiring down, her sweet, warm scenting pushing out to meet him. She could probably scent the nerves. He doesn’t mind how it happens, nor how they’ll wake up at this point. Now, he can rest, knowing a sweet omega is safe in his home.