#for they are both many hours long and arguably 'slow'

[kyogos]

its really weird seeing pundits talk about t20 being the format that young people cling to and will be the outlasting format as someone who got into cricket ~6 months via test cricket

[withacapitalp]

Tell Him (Nothing) Everything Pt 2

Part One Link to ao3

Chapter Two- Second Mistakes

After their disastrous first meeting, Eddie found himself going to Steve’s bakery pretty much every single day. He would wake up, shower, put on at least semi-clean clothes, and walk down to Claudia’s just in time for the morning rush to be over. In fact, the only days he didn’t were Saturday and Sunday, because those were the days that Steve’s brother and his friends would hang around the cafe on and off all day. 

Needless to say, Wayne was ecstatic at this sudden one eighty. He had no idea what had happened to drag Eddie out of his depressive spiral, but he was happy about it all the same, and Eddie was happy that his uncle was happy. 

There was definitely enough happiness to go around. 

He and Steve entered into an easy kind of routine. For five or six hours straight Eddie would sit at the countertop on the far end of the bakery, writing lyrics and bars in his ratty old notebook while Steve ran his cafe and offered Eddie little nibbles to ‘taste test’. 

When things were busy Eddie liked to hop the counter to ring people up while Steve packed boxes of sweets and made drinks. And, when things were slow, Steve would turn the music up and dance around while he cleaned. Eddie was forced to put his pen down and watch the sinfully silly delight. There was no point in trying to pretend he wasn’t blatantly staring at Steve’s ass as he wiggled his hips and wiped down tables, singing along to ABBA and Bonnie Tyler in the goofiest voice Eddie had ever heard. 

Arguably, that might have been the best part of their new easy whatever this was, but Eddie knew there was something better. 

No, the best part was the talking.

Eddie hadn't realized how quiet he had gotten until he was back to jabbering all day long with someone who was easy to talk to. Steve just had this way of getting Eddie to open up, and for the first time since Chrissy, he felt like he had found someone to chat with that didn’t completely exhaust him. 

It was mostly because they never talked about anything too heavy. They definitely got to the personal- Steve’s brother, Dustin, was a frequent topic of conversation as Steve fretted about raising him ‘properly’- but they never got to the painful. Eddie didn’t ask why Steve was raising his thirteen year old brother at only twenty three, and Steve never wondered why Eddie was in town when he clearly didn’t belong in a place like Hawkins. 

It was fun. It was easy. 

It made Eddie feel completely guilty.

He wasn’t sure if he was even allowed to have good things anymore. He had been given the best person in the world, and he had destroyed her, so the universe had decided to give him another wonderful person? 

Didn’t it know Eddie was a ruiner? 

Well, if the universe hadn’t figured that out yet, then Eddie had resolved to not feel all that guilty about being selfish and keeping Steve when he knew he shouldn’t. He would hoard this happiness until the world righted itself and remembered that he didn’t deserve it. 

But for now, it was ten o’clock, and the cafe smelled like berries. 

“Helllloooooooooo, hungry customer waiting!” Eddie called out, obnoxiously ringing the bell over and over, needing to drown out both his thoughts and the disgustingly cheerful bubblegum pop playing over the speakers. 

“Get out!” Steve singsonged back, his voice growing louder as he came closer. 

“You’d miss me too much, Angeleyes,” Eddie replied, walking to his usual spot and hopping up onto the bar stool, not bothering to wait to see Steve come out from the back. Angeleyes was just one of the many nicknames Eddie had come up with for Steve’s…interesting music choices. 

“Don’t make fun of ABBA, or I won’t let you sample my new recipe,” Steve pouted as he walked over holding a still steaming tray of delectable goodies. His apron was a soft sea green today, the paw prints an icy blue that matched the polo he was wearing. 

Eddie couldn’t stand how cute Steve was, he really couldn’t. 

“What’s this one?” Eddie asked, reaching over. 

“Watch!” Steve immediately said, pulling the tray back so Eddie couldn’t burn his fingers, “Blackberry lemon crumble bars,” 

Steve put the tray down and carefully placed one on a plate, making Eddie’s coffee the way he liked while they waited for the bars to cool down a little. 

“I went out with Dustin and the kids this weekend and we picked a ton of them,” Steve said, passing over the plate and the cup. Eddie broke the treat in half, delighting in the shower of crumbs that fell on the china plate shaped like a cat.

The second the flavor hit his tongue he let out an absolutely sinful moan. At the start Eddie had tried to play it up, enjoying the way his noises would make Steve turn bright red, but he quickly realized he didn’t have to exaggerate anything. Steve’s food was just that good. 

“Sunshine, I’m gonna propose marriage,” Eddie said, his mouth still full, “Be ready for a big fat ring. I’ll wife you up, and then you can just travel the world with me and bake.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Steve automatically said, laughing softly and ignoring Eddie’s flirting the way he always did. He leaned over the counter, grabbing the other half of the bar and eating it much more delicately, somehow avoiding making a complete mess, “You should’ve come with us. It was a nice hike,” 

“Yeah, you lost me at the word ‘hike’. I don’t do hikes,” Eddie joked, conveniently avoiding the real reason he would never spend any time with Steve outside of this cafe, the reason he never came on weekends. 

Because not only was the idea of meeting Steve’s little brother was kind of intimidating (A child prodigy with a dungeons and dragons obsession? Yeah that kid was way too cool for his own good), but Eddie also knew that if Dustin didn’t like him, Steve would probably never talk to him again. 

Or worse, Dustin might recognize him. Then Steve really would never talk to Eddie again.

“Alrighty no hiking. Then what do you do all day? Besides coming here to bother me,” Steve teased, opening the display case and beginning to place the rest of the bars in a neat uniform row. 

“Nothing,” Eddie replied, grabbing his notebook and getting ready for their usual routine to start. He had a pretty good idea for some lyrics about berry kissed lips and tart lemons dripping sour into open wounds. 

“Sounds pretty boring,” Steve said idly. 

“Relaxing,” Eddie countered, looking up from his book, “You forget- I’m on vacation,” 

Well, bereavement. If running away from your entire life to hide at your uncle’s house in Podunk, Indiana could count as bereavement. 

“Ah yes, vacation from this mysterious job of yours that I’m not allowed to know anything about,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes. There was no heat in his voice, no edge to his tone, but Eddie’s stomach was starting to drop anyway. 

They knew all kinds of things about each other. Eddie knew all about Steve’s time as a high school jackass, and Steve had heard the calamities of Eddie’s own teenage years, but then there were gaps. Huge gaps. Big glaring gaps. Mostly on Eddie’s side. 

He couldn’t share most of the things that had happened in his last ten years without revealing his secret. Still, the longer he held onto pretending he was normal, the worse the fallout was going to be when he had to admit he wasn’t. 

“You can ask,” Eddie eventually said with a fake casual shrug, “Just no guarantees I’m gonna answer,” 

But he would. He had decided that if Steve pressed, if he really wanted to know, he would spill it all. The ball was unknowingly in Steve’s court, and that took the pressure off. Steve was the one who decided when this all ended and reality snuck back into their little corner of the world. 

“Nah, you’ll tell me whatever it is when you’re ready,”  Steve replied easily, once again keeping them both in suspense. The bell on the door jangled behind Eddie, signaling that customers had just entered. Steve greeted them with a big smile, and then he was walking away from Eddie who unabashedly stared at Steve’s back.  

Sunkissed Small Town Atlas, what I wouldn’t give to be on my knees holding your world?

God, Eddie was going to Hell. Those lyrics were even too dirty for Corroded Coffin. 

He wrote them down anyway. 

“By the way, Dustin burned me some new CDs of stuff he likes,” Steve said later that day when it was just the two of them again. He was elbow deep into the espresso machine, trying to fix something that was broken with the milk frother, and Eddie was about two seconds away from jumping into help him, “I told him that you’re into metal and rock too, and he said that these would be more your speed,”

“Burned CDs,” Eddie said with a soft laugh, coming around the counter and picking up the plastic cases Steve had nodded towards, beginning to rifle through them. They were covered in sharpie doodles and careful writing of every song. 

The kid had taste. Most of this was the stuff Eddie grew up on. 

“Hey, not all of us can afford music streaming,” Steve shot back, popping his head out of the machine for a second to stick his tongue out at Eddie before burying his face back into the mechanics. 

It was good that he did, because if Steve hadn’t, he would’ve seen the way Eddie’s jaw was dropping as he looked at the hand drawn devil mask on one of the CDs. An extremely familiar devil mask.  

“Corroded Coffin?” Eddie whispered faintly, all of his extremities starting to go numb. 

Was this Steve’s subtle way of telling Eddie he was caught? Was he trying to pull a joke or something? 

“Oh yeah, you’ll see a lot of them. He’s totally obsessed with that band,” Steve replied, cursing loudly as the machine began to spit water at him. Eddie abandoned the CDs and hurried over, helping Steve to do battle against his machine 

“Dustin really likes them?” Eddie said out of breath, panting as they both tried to come down from the high of fighting against the coffee demon. 

“Obsessed,” Steve gushed, grabbing the case with the Corroded Coffin CD and waving it around as he walked over to the player hooked up to the speakers, “He has all their music, a bunch of their records on vinyl, posters and everything. I even saved up to get him and his friends tickets to go see them live,”

Steve’s tone dropped at the last sentence. His brow furrowed, and his face pulled into an uncharacteristic frown as he slipped the CD in. The sound of Eddie’s own voice began to fill his ears. This was one from the before time, back in their MySpace/Youtube era before they recorded their first album. 

The kid really was a fan. 

It’s raining down. 

All around. 

Hellfire. 

God, sometimes it was hard to not cringe at his old lyrics. Sixteen year old Eddie really thought he was a genius. And his voice was still too high, it hadn’t fully dropped back then. Eddie decided to distract himself from the way the song made him want to curl up in a ball and die, focusing on Steve and the way he still seemed upset. 

“You sound disappointed. Not happy that your baby brother is a metalhead?” Eddie asked, keeping his tone light and hoping that would give Steve an out if he didn’t want to talk about what was bugging him. 

“Oh no, as long as he’s safe and happy I don’t care,” Steve said dismissively, waving a hand around his head, “I guess I just- you know the tickets I got him? The ones to see this band? They’re totally useless, because they canceled their whole tour.”

“The entire tour?” Eddie blurted out, rearing back with a jolt. 

He knew that they had to cancel at least the first few dates because he had disappeared, but the entire eight month tour?! They weren’t even supposed to start touring until next week, and Indianapolis was still three months away. 

The other guys were that sure Eddie wasn’t coming back…

To be fair to them, Eddie was also not so sure he was going back. But that had to be a shit ton of money, and without a lead singer or a manager-

Eddie had royally screwed his bandmates. His brothers. He had been so focused on what he needed, he forgot they needed him too. He forgot that without Eddie Munson, there was no Corroded Coffin. 

Chrissy would’ve killed him for that. 

If he hadn’t killed her first. 

Eddie couldn’t help the soft noise that escaped from his throat, and he walked on wooden legs back to his usual corner, tucking himself into the seat and trying to curl up and be as small as possible. Not only was the guilt back, but it had grown devil horns and demon wings, exponentially worse now that Eddie could no longer ignore how many people he was screwing over. 

“There’s a really big mystery about it. Apparently something happened to their manager and she died?” Steve continued to babble, completely unaware of the burning fire poker he was jabbing into Eddie’s chest, “The lead singer, Freddy something, was close with her, and after that he just kind of vanished. It was a big media circus,” 

Freddy. It wasn’t funny, because nothing about the situation was funny, but Eddie laughed anyway. He laughed, because if he didn’t, he was going to start crying. The laughter bubbled out and spilled across the countertop, sounding nothing like Eddie knew himself to sound like.  

“Eds?” 

Steve’s warm hand cupped his face, and when Eddie looked up a watery blurry version of Steve was looking back at him, and when he blinked to clear his vision, he became aware of the tear tracks already cutting through his face. 

Oh. Apparently he could do both. Eddie had never laughed and cried at the same time, but here he was. 

“What happened?” Steve asked, letting his thumb softly brush against Eddie’s cheek, wiping away the tears in a move that was so intimate it sent shivers shooting down his spine. 

The last person who had done something like this for him was Chrissy, and that comparison was just one shade too much for him. Eddie untangled himself from Steve and hopped down, going around the counter and grabbing the black apron with white paw prints that Steve left out for him, tying it around his waist and attacking the dishes in the sink with ferocity. 

Steve let him, sitting back against the counter and waiting. He had learned in the last few weeks that there were moments where Eddie just needed to do something physical to work out whatever was happening inside of him. The first time it had happened, Eddie had just paced for an hour straight, and he was sure Steve would kick him out when he was done, but the younger man had simply shrugged and offered for Eddie to do the dishes the next time instead.

‘Might as well get some free labor out of it’ had been Steve’s reasoning, and Eddie had wanted to kiss him right then and there. 

“Dustin’s pretty upset I bet,” Eddie finally croaked out after he finished rinsing out one of the cat themed mugs. It wasn’t just his bandmates he was letting down, but also all of the fans that had been loyal to them for years and years. 

Eddie was letting everyone down. 

“Well, he was at first, but he’s trying to be understanding about it. He said it was like if I lost Robin. I can’t even begin to imagine what that would feel like,” Steve said cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure that they should just drop the fact that Eddie had been crying only moments before. 

When Eddie didn’t say anything he crept closer, leaning into Eddie’s space to grab a towel and begin to dry the cups on the rack. 

“Are you o-” Steve began. 

“I’m glad Dustin isn’t too disappointed,” Eddie cut in, unable to hear those words. If he heard them again, then he would tell Steve the truth. 

He wasn’t okay. He didn’t know if he was ever going to be okay again. 

“I am too. I just wish I hadn’t spent so much money on those stupid tickets. That was Christmas and his birthday gift all in one,” Steve sighed. Eddie flinched at the sound, looking down at the soaped up canister in his hands instead of at the man he had personally screwed out of hundreds, possibly thousands, of dollars. 

“You didn’t get a refund?” Eddie asked, unable to believe that the other members of the band wouldn’t give everyone their money back. 

“Well some of it,” Steve said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “I got the price of regular admission tickets back, but I got a bunch of extra stuff too- good seats, backstage passes, the works. All of that was apparently nonrefundable.”

“How much was it?” 

Eddie didn’t want to know the answer, but he needed to know. He was apparently a masochist now. 

“Backstage passes for all six of them plus me to chaperone?” Steve asked rhetorically watching Eddie wince in sympathy, “Yeah, I was feeling that loss for a few months,”

Eddie didn’t have any more dishes, but he had lots of energy, so he grabbed a washcloth and began to wipe down the counters, avoiding Steve’s eyes which he could still feel locked onto his back. 

“Geez, you must really hate that lead singer, huh?” Eddie was attempting to go casual, but he was so far from it that it wasn’t even funny, “I mean the dude just disappears because one person died?” 

Any second now Steve was going to call him on his weirdness, and Eddie was going to have to blurt out the entire terrible story and try to beg for forgiveness. 

“No, not at all,” Steve replied without giving it any thought. 

“Really?” Eddie breathed, turning around to stare at Steve with wide eyes. Steve shrugged, going back to fiddling with his coffee machine. 

“I don’t really know what happened, but if I lost Robin? I wouldn't want to talk to anybody, let alone jump up onto a stage and try to perform, or act like nothing happened. I think everyone just feels bad. Apparently the fans are still leaving him lots of tweets and stuff. Dustin told me some hashtag was trending for him a couple weeks ago,” Steve said, grabbing his phone with the obvious intent to show Eddie. 

He was going to look up Corroded Coffin. Which would lead directly to tons of headlines with Eddie’s face plastered on them. 

Eddie was up and moving before he even knew it.  

“What are you doing?” Steve asked slowly as Eddie grabbed his wrist and pulled it down, making sure Steve couldn’t look at his phone. 

“I don’t wanna see it.” Eddie said in a rush. 

He didn’t want his secret exposed, but he also didn’t want the reminder of who he was. He wanted to keep being Steve’s Eddie. A stranger with funny little quips and a refined palate. He wanted to be able to keep being this person for a little while, whoever he was. He didn’t want to go back to being the Eddie that had lost his Robin.  

“Please,” Eddie said, lowering his voice to a whisper. Steve stood there blinking at him for a second, staring at Eddie like he couldn’t really make sense of him. 

“Alright,” Steve said, finally hesitantly agreeing. Eddie breathed out a long slow sigh of relief, leaning back against the counter and letting go of Steve’s wrist. 

“You’re a really nice person, Steve Harrington,” He said with a tired grin. 

“And you’re a very confusing person Eddie Eddie,” Steve shot back with an incredulous little laugh. He pushed off of his own counter and held a hand out, “But you are a good taste tester. Now come back here and help me make this next batch of crumble bars perfect. I think it might need a frosting,” 

Eddie went willingly, the sound of his own voice over the speakers filling his ears. 

[2n2n]

Don’t you think Tsunene kiss is a bit early? Like Nene-chan barely KNOWS Tsukasa at this moment, she never questionned what happened in the Red House… I think I’d like to have seen it in volume 22 or later, when she was "more interested" in him. Nonetheless it’s freaking interesting because she knows he’s a Yorishiro, so maybe he will try to convince her to destroy him……: so many possibilities

Why does Nene-chan need to know much about Tsukasa in order to be kissed by him? He's a social reject undead 13 year old ... While I understand if it is outside of your taste, it makes typical sense for a pairing in this manga, specifically. I'm not sure how much you think Hanako knows about Nene-chan, early manga, when he begins flirting with her… ? Doesn't our manga OPEN with Hanako doing some quite out of pocket things, drawing Nene-chan into being confused & questioning of his intentions towards her? She questions his sincerity all the way up to the Far Shore ... the Yugi man... you're asking too much for any twin to do things in the right order at the right time.........

Hanako, day 1 meeting Nene-chan, asserts them as a 'couple',

and QUICKLY sets into AGGRESSIVELY flirting with her! He admits to not caring about her life at this point-- this is purely physical ... (the sincerity comes later.)...

Amane wastes no time "getting to know" or "becoming interested in" Nene-chan, he does not give her much time or opportunity to "get interested in" or "get to know" him.

Hanako, meanwhile, he is quite immediately captivated by Nene-chan at first sight…

and binds her to him quickly. And that is a beautiful/romantic thing for our fated lovers.

Not long into their friendship (which can only exist in the brief hours between and after classes, give or take some spare moments), Hanako is kissing her …

How much does Nene-chan know about Amane, here, in volume 2? Any more than she knows about Tsukasa, right now? Arguably less???

Amane at age 8 is flirting with Nene-chan and asserting she is his type in, oh surely only an hour at best, of knowing her… he's a kid, his feelings are simple…

This isn't bad writing or something, it's just AidaIro's preference for romance; quite instant. Sumire did not know anything about Hakubo, when meeting him, but he was a handsome guy, she childishly and immediately is in love, and is in love for good! Who is to say a quickly-and-stupid-onset-romance can't become something earthshattering and beautiful? Who is to say a childish, impulsive start, ignorant of each other, is sloppy or 'too quick'? That's just an odd criticism to me, as a fan of all the pairings in this manga. I think KouMitsu is THE slowest individuals out here, and legitimately it's so slow for me it's unromantic fkldsfjslgg.glkjkljl.... meeting someone, forgetting about them,, keep forgetting about them,, have other crush, is like, ough its a struggle for me. Not how MY romance worked LOL!

While it took a long time for HanaNene to kiss on the lips, that has a LOT more to do with AMANE's specific hang-ups about vulnerability, fear of being attached, avoidance to take things seriously… his concept of 'having no future' and etc !! THINGS TSUKASA DOES NOT HAVE… as Tsukasa is not repressed, like Amane! I think if Amane was true to his heart, he'd have kissed Nene-chan full-on much sooner, but he's naturally avoidant of confession and earnestness!!! Amane would wait for the other party to confess, rather than confess himself! Amane is defensive and rude!!! Tsukasa is simply the type to not hide anything he's feeling. So a mouth kiss is easier for him to, do.

By comparison to Amane, in some respects, Tsukasa has been quite slow and observant… lol. I would argue Tsukasa has offered her more information & background on both himself and Amane in his forays with her, leading her to the bookstacks, to nowhere, meeting her at the Red House... though he has had less two-sided conversation, less time. These are interesting differences. I don't see how one is worse or more rapidfire. Amane hides his truth & lies a lot. If not for Tsukasa, Nene-chan would not know enough about Amane to fall so hard for him, perhaps. Through Amane's romance with her, Tsukasa gets to see quite a lot of Nene's personality. HanaNene in this way fuels TsuNene, and vice versa.

I think Tsukasa has observed Nene-chan quite a lot, is childish, and has precious little social connections at all; I think Nene-chan stands out A LOT! We know Tsukasa observes a lot of what goes on, truly at an unknown frequency. I think he could know as much about Nene-chan as Amane does, though as mostly an observer ... though, we don't know what sort of development they could have when Tsukasa is 12 (: Tsukasa's timeline is funky ! Disordered !!! He can't act normal, haha.

Tsukasa is childish… for Tsukasa, I think the kiss makes sense. I'm only shocked that little guy can really just up and kiss a girl ... I feel like it's taken him quite a long time .... she made her first impression when he was 4 ... much to daydream about, that mysterious girl.

Nene-chan had been lost & confused the entire early portion of Amane's pursuing of her... I'm afraid these Yugi twins both have poor romantic candor. They're quite insistent, aren't they? You have no idea if they like you or not, you get harassed, you get grabbed and pulled around and kissed willy-nilly with no explanation at all, you get suddenly claimed as property and made to follow commands … ! I'm afraid both Yugi are like that to Nene-chan, so I do not see why Tsukasa is unbelievable or too fast with it…!

Criticizing the trajectory and then immediately thinking of the destruction... I'm not with you anon, as much as I think Tsukasa being open to Nene-chan destroying him is in and of itself huge and romantic of him, a beautiful display of trust, placing her into the same position he would place Amane in.... I would like them to finally talk, alone, especially given time is frozen, and Tsukasa has longer than the duration of a school day ... I hope he can take her someplace the frozen clock can't effect... she has so much to process hahahaha ... she just starts accepting one Yugi twin likes her, and here comes the other one kissing her without a proper explanation ....

[itsevanffs]

breaking my hiatus for like five seconds (wow, what a surprise) to bring you a small psa. i got another 'pls update' comment today and i wanted to share my reply to it just to get this over and done with because i get too many comments like this.

here goes:

my friend, this is not the interaction you think it is.

i'm feeling generous today so i'll explain.

firstly: a 'i liked your fic!' goes a long way. it shows me you actually liked my story and engaged with it. 'please update' tells me nothing except that you want more. in theory that's a nice thing if you don't think too much about it, but i'm an author, thinking is what i chronically do. 'please update' can mean anything from 'i really want to read more because it's so good' to 'everything so far has been absolute garbage and only a truly phenomenal update can save this'. funny thing about creative brains is they are often inherently pessimistic. i am much more inclined to think someone hated my fic than loved it. please at least tell me what you thought before you start begging for more - or just don't beg. tell me you liked it. that's a much better way to motivate me.

secondly: i am not a farm animal. i work at my own pace, for free (i am not paid in any manner, and i don't take donations either), and demanding (because that is what you are doing) an update will not change my rate in any positive direction. arguably, anytime anyone demands an update i slow down my update speed, since i work on the incredible principle of spite. you're shooting yourself in the foot here bud.

thirdly: you're coming in at a funny fuckin time my friend because this is the first time in almost five whole years i'm on an actual literal hiatus for both physical and mental reasons, so you're gonna have to be a good boy and just wait like the rest.

fourthly: do you know how long it takes to write a thousand words, on average? my writing speed on a good day is 1k per hour. that's eight consecutive hours for a single chapter of this fic. now, i did it to myself, you may say, but i sure as hell am not stopping with my consistent character length, nor am i going to take a 9-5 off my fairly hectic real life to write eight thousand words in a day so i can get it to you by tomorrow. what do you expect when you say 'please update'?

i don't mean to call you out specifically or whatever but this is like the 20th comment exactly like this i've gotten this year and i'm a little sick and tired of it.

if you take anything from this, then just... butter your comment up first with a compliment. seriously. 'i liked this, looking forward to the next chapter' is a low effort, fool proof way to not piss anyone off.

have a nice day.

[brutalmasks]

❛  isn't it ironic?  ❜ / from the batman

if there was one thing that bunny mask had noticed about gotham's landscape, it was how surprisingly dark it was at night — even with all of the street lights and the displays that were active beneath her. though the city was arguably very curious in general: what with it's costumed villains and the man who pervaded through the streets to 'take care of them,' so-to-speak, dressed in pure black kevlar with bat ears. the batman, she'd heard they called him. he served as both a symbol of hope and fear for the city that she was currently dangling her feet above. it was a particularly windy night in gotham the day that she'd found herself thinking this to herself. and normally, that would've put a lot of people off from visiting one of the highest skyscrapers in gotham in addition to sitting on the edge of it, as well. but bunny mask was feeling fearless.

she had just done away with a man about an hour ago, or so, and he had committed some very heinous crimes. so, naturally, bunny mask had doled out quite the extreme punishment to him: a death by an overdose as he had done terrible things with drugs to people. but it was a slow and painful one. a more than deserved one, in her opinion. bunny mask left no such calling card that this was her doing, however. this is because she was not a villain, she reasoned, like the men and women with gimmicky monikers who were still running rampant through the streets were. but bunny mask supposed at least some people had grown suspicious of all of the sudden unrelated deaths happening in the city. and that seemed to lead her to now, at this point in time, with an unfamiliar voice talking directly to her.

the haunting light green hue of bunny mask's skin was further illuminated by the sign lying behind the both of them as she turned to face who she learned was a man. no, not just any man. the fabled one known as the batman. silence spread throughout the air for a moment, as if bunny mask was waiting, anticipating that maybe he would elaborate further on what he was asking her. though it appeared, the bat believed she already knew what he was referring to: and he would be right if they were thinking about the same thing. bunny mask's lips curled into a small unreadable smile as she gazed at the man. her eyes were all white and glowing.

❝ you mean how the people of the city appear to consider you to be a hero and me, a villain? i have to admit, i somewhat share the same sentiment. what i am doing is cleansing your city of the sickness. it has been flourishing in this place, left unchecked, for far too long. and so many other humans are suffering because of it, ❞ humans, she said, because bunny mask herself was anything but. a light exhale escaped her lungs then. bunny mask was trying hard to understand what could possibly be his perspective here to not kill anyone, but admittedly, it was hard for her. he was rather infamous for sticking criminals either in jail or in institutions that they would repeatedly escape from.

❝ i only wish to bring peace to this place. everyone deserves it, do they not? i heard that this city has been wracked with trauma from it's inception; what with happened with the arkham family. and the alley, nicknamed crime alley, for the brutal murder that had occurred within it. there are so many other examples as well of bad things happening to the innocent. we must change it, and i intend to get retribution for the lives that have been lost, or are about to be lost here. before this place turns into nothing but a festering wound, ❞ bunny mask's intentions were noble. this, she knew, but the batman was more likely than not here to try to talk her down... right? or, perhaps he had already made her mind up about her: that she was no good herself.

but she believed in the ideology she'd made for herself and in revenge. so, either way, nothing would be stopping her from fulfilling her goals.

[deoffal-mp-adm7000-n-s1-2022]

Building The Final Spiral:

This post follows the same pattern as my last spiral notes, except this time it took me 8 hours to get the pattern and layout right. However, with all the proper demarcations and measuring done, and with some guess-timation on the centre point of the spiral within a 11ft x 11ft square made in the space, I was able to get it to balance nicely on the wall alongside the shelf section of the wall, without having to cramp it too much in the process, though as you can tell, the gaps between the curves are still not as wide as they could be. But, by making the spiral longer at the side this would only exacerbate the inequality to be found in the vertical gaps, but so long as the wall offers enough contrast and the lights illuminate the whites of the portraits enough the spiral should still stand out and not be compressed into a blob at the sides, as tested god knows how many times in the mock space. The pattern to this spiral is hardly linear or narratively focused in anyway, I just want with my plan of attempting to put images of lesser resolution quality in the darker corners and away from the centre where all the detailed and very dark pieces are, as again stated before in previous plans and as executed here. The only important comment being that the spiral ends with me at the very end of its tail, this being a reference to all the artists in history who play with their identity in their work by leaving subtle references or even overt adaptations of their own visage in their pieces as an inside joke between the retrospective audience and the featured artist, Rembrandt being arguable the most well known for doing this, atleast without drawing too much attention to it in the process, it’s just something artists like to do and do so as a side comment to not only show their literal presence as tied to the work both figuratively and metaphorically, but it shows their humour in a serious or otherwise complicated work, shows their humanity in the throws of fine art etc. The centre of the spiral, where it starts, is made purely of more biophilosophical imagery, mutations of nature and plays with abstract understandings of portraiture, something that I feel sets the tone for the rest of the works as they follow and interpret this same blueprint another 100 times before finishing with the most realistic depiction of a face in my portfolio as represented by my self portrait. Even though the spiral follows no distinct spiralling narrative, it took me 8 hours because I knew that I wouldn’t be satisfied with the spiral looking off and not having all 120 pieces present when my publication states this, I couldn’t contradict the written word and not present all the pieces, and properly so, without slowing myself down and making sure the layout was as even as I could get it as one man trying to make a monolithically ambitious installation, and so I don’t think I did a bad job for a fun sized guy on a step ladder with only a hammer and a jar of push pins too. Process Wise, this spiral was made exactly as the last ones were, with some masking tape at the top and laid onto the wall one by one, as shown in the pictures I throw all the pieces to me feet and put them on the wall depending on how I felt each piece would best fit in the chain regarding their darkness and image quality as already stated, this again is why it took so long to do, and even though these pictures don’t show it, I did atleast 6 spirals, yet constantly had to change it’s form and overall width to balance it on the wall, and to make sure certain pieces didn’t get lost in the noise and get too stacked together (detailed pieces being right next to other pieces of the same quality for example, even that has to be balanced out so the overall presentation of the spiral is not one part heavy with detail and the other too simple or abstracted etc), plus I had to make sure all the white background pieces didn’t get too clumped together, as I used them in the final to help certain darker areas hold their shape rather than being too dark to see the curve of certain areas in question etc, you get the idea as the images here showcase. 

Once I was happy with the space altogether, each piece got one pin to hold it for the night, and I took my freshly painted floating shelf (painted to match the black paint of the wall so as to really make it a floating, almost illusionary shelf) into the space too, to be pinned and touched up the next day, this being an important step too as it was technically the finishing step, as the books finally arrived at this point and now I needed to get them in the space and ready for the final show as the final touch to really set the wall off, yet due to me losing 2 days last week I of course was set back by made good time by working on the spiral all of the Monday, so by Tuesday the wall was essentially finished a day ahead of schedule anyway.

[bibbykins]

jungkook.... whining... while oc rides his dick.... brain is shortcircuiting rn

I... I have no words for how this came out of me at the speed it did. This is kinda funny to put out when the next parts are gonna be pretty sad (not too sad ofc) but lmao nonetheless

So, Beg (M)

Words: 1.2k

Note: This is a drabble for The Household's Bunny Series

Pairing: Soft yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Camgirl! Reader

Warnings: 18+, dom/sub dynamics, riding, whining, name-calling, flustered jk, cream pie, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, brat! reader, finger sucking

Jungkook knew many things about himself, arguably he knew even more about you. The most basic being you were a sub and he was a hard dom. There had never been any question about how well puppy dog eyes fit on your face as you begged for sweet release and the way a sadistic smile would curve onto his features as he ripped your request to shreds. He was cruel, dastardly, and evil. He was a cry baby brat's worst nightmare, your worst nightmare, and if you didn't know that by now, after this little show, you would be learning that lesson days after it ends.

"Fuck." He grit out as he threw his head back.

If only he could focus on how sorry you would be among the base need to empty himself within you as you swirled your hips slowly.

You clicked your tongue, "Kook, that's a bad word." You stated matter-of-factly, "I told you to say nice words if you want to be rewarded." You clenched around him but ceased movement when he tried to push his hips up, a difficult task considering how his limbs were tied to his bedposts as you had been countless times before.

He let out a breathy laugh, "You're just so soft and tight, bunny." He resisted the urge to tell you all about how screwed you were. He did agree to let you take control, figuring you would hardly know what to do. Had he known Taehyung had given you tips beforehand, he would've never agreed to this torture, "C'mon, baby, be nice to me." He did his best not to make it sound like a command but the pressure in his dick as it pulsed inside you did him no favors.

You rolled your eyes at his poor attempt to get mercy. Flattery was the oldest trick in the book, and one you had mastered, so he would have to try much harder. You looked down at the idol before you and fought the urge to sigh dreamily, "You're so pretty, Koo." You mused, hands rubbing over his defined abs and slowly making your way up his chest, "I never knew you would look this cute all needy and desperate." You could see his face flush even more as you rolled your hips against him slowly. Letting out a shaky breath you continued, "Don't you think you're a cutie?"

His eyes rolled back as you leaned down, breasts pressing against him, while your mouth hovered over his, "Baby." He tried to warn you but only received a light kiss.

"Say you're a cutie." You ordered, "And maybe I'll move some more, hm?"

Jungkook was no stranger to praise, and he knew he was attractive. His physical appearance had rarely been an issue to him, but with the way you looked down on him, he couldn't help but hesitate, "That's ridiculous-"

"Bad." You giggled against his ear before your lips found purchase on his neck, sucking harshly and enjoying the groan you ripped from him, "Tell me you're a cutie."

Jungkook found himself weak when it came to your affection and had no choice but to surrender, at least a little.

He sighed, "I'm a cutie, now just-" The words died on his tongue as you sat up and pulled yourself from him before sinking back down. He swore nirvana was on the horizon as you swiveled your hips.

"So hard for me." You gasped out, nails pressing into his stomach. Fuck, he loved when you marked him up, "Feels good." You moaned with a small giggle.

He nodded, his release gaining on him after what felt like hours of this torment, "It does, so sweet and tight-"

You couldn't fight your smile much longer as you stopped moving again. The disgruntled noise that left Jungkook’s lips only drew out your laughter, "So beg for it." You challenged, leaning down to look him in the eyes, "Beg me to ride you till you cum." The flare of dormant dominance in his eyes made you clench around him. You were sure if you hadn't reinforced the silk ties, he would've broken out ages ago.

"Bunny." He grit out, definitely warning you but the brokenness of his tone while your walls fluttered around his cock made it significantly less intimidating.

Unable to hold back much more, you captured his lips in a messy kiss. Your hands cupped his face as his tongue tangled with yours, "Beg, and I'll ride you till we both cum." You offered and he groaned, "Misbehave, and I ride you till I cum and have you use your hand to finish." You pouted, bouncing a little, chipping away at his sanity.

"You can't be serious-" He groaned when a hand of yours reached down to rub your clit in slow circles, but he could feel you clench around him in pleasure.

You grabbed his face with one hand, fingers slightly squishing into his cheek. Your grip was much more gentle than his, but it surprised him nonetheless, "Now, now, be good." You trailed your fingers that had previously been on your clit to his mouth, "Think about it." You whispered as he took your fingers in his mouth, licking messily to taste you as much as he could, "You wanna cum inside me? Fill me up nice and full? Make me your pretty little bitch?" The profanity only made his eyes roll back as he lathed his tongue over your digits and nodded. You ripped your fingers from his mouth and a whine bubbled in his throat, making you smile that beautiful smile he loved so dearly, "So beg me, sweetheart."

He was losing patience and control, "Please, bunny, ride me." He muttered.

"What was that, pet?" You provoked a glare from him with a sly smile.

"I need to fill you up, my pretty bunny." He rasped as you began moving slowly, "Please, I need you." The whine in his voice pushed your hips at a quicker pace that made him throw his head back against the pillow and moan.

"Sound so pretty for me." You cooed with a shaky voice as you found your high approaching way quicker than you expected, your sex feeling the effects of teasing Jungkook as long as you did, "I'm not gonna last long." There was a breathless chuckle in your voice that made his heart melt.

"Cum for me, baby." He groaned, "Fuck, I want you to cum nice and pretty for me and I'll fill you up." He wanted so badly to thrust his hips up and make you fall apart but as your nails dug into his skin while you cried out his name, he couldn't help the gratification of having the girl he admired ride him so desperately.

Seeing this needy and sweet Jungkook was more than enough to send you over the edge as you called his name with a scream while you fell apart. It didn't take long for him to follow you into the depths of desire.

Minutes later, you've untied him and collapsed on top of him with heaving breaths, "You know when I catch my breath, you're gonna get it, right?" He breathed and you looked up at him tiredly with a pout.

"Do you know how hard it was trying to control you?" You accused, "Cut me some slack."

He chuckled and it was one of your favorite songs, "Imagine how I feel with how much of a brat you are."

You gasped in fake offense and went to smack his chest but he grabbed your hand and used the leverage to flip you both over and capture you in a deep kiss. His stamina was really no joke.

Tip Jar

[msookyspooky]

Love your work, could you write something about Severen where (and this might be a little dark and I completely understand if you're not comfortable writing it) him and his S/0 purposely lure in guys who are predatory to his gf and then slaughter them? (Kind of like when Jesse murders the two car jackers that threaten Diamondback)

This ain't dark to me bc this is exactly what I would do as a vampire. Just drain predatory men looking to take advantage of a girl walking alone at night. Hell, modern vampire me; I would go after pedos online too to meet up with and be guilt free...I like junk food I guess.

Hope you don't mind me twisting this a bit and adding some spice bc we know Severen. 😏

Severen with a S/O that lures victim's

It was easy food. A young, innocent looking, pretty thing like you wandering down dark alley ways and down old back roads at night. Severen never had an issue with getting victims but you made it so easy; you both were fed early every night. What used to be him waiting a few hours for blood by hitchhiking or causing trouble in a shithole bar turned into only an hour or two after dark to feed and the rest of the night to yourselves. However...The victims always made his blood boil unlike anything he experienced in his 150+ years of life.

You always attracted pieces of shit that had one thing in mind. Always trying to grab you, grope you, kiss you, shove you against a wall and take what they wanted. Human you would be terrified... But now? You could easily snap any mans neck that went too far. It didn't faze you. If anything, it made the transition from human to vampire so much easier. Getting blood from draining the life of horrible people that arguably won't be missed.

You both usually tag teamed. He'd wait in an alleyway you had to lead the guy to. Or you'd hitchike, drag on the conversation and have Sev slip into the back of the truck or shoot the driver while he was distracted. It was bonding as you both laughed and got a kick out of initiating fear into people that who knows how many victims they had done the same to. Those nights of tag teaming were the most common and fun.

But sometimes you had to do most of the work to get them alone. Sometimes the chase and lure game dragged on too long for your boyfriend/mates liking. Severen would watch from the shadows as you danced with the victim in the bar, held their hand and flirted with them, whispered sweet nothings before leading them to a secluded area to feed.

Severen was a confident man that trusted you completely. He wouldn't be with anyone if that wasn't the case. However, your senses could still feel Severen nearby seething if the man got too disrespectful with you. You were his and how dare anyone put their hands on you. You shivered at the rage you would feel radiating from him whenever a guy grabbed your ass and you had to go along with it. The glare he'd have on his face as he finally revealed himself to make the kill was intense.

He'd take out his anger on the poor piece of shit that tried to touch you. "You think you can touch whatever ya want? Huh buddy?" He'd have on a smirk and that crazy look in his eyes as he gave them a painful death. Slow, torturous and showing just what he can do if he's enraged enough.

Most of the time it was just pure rage if they tried taking advantage of you but whenever you had to flirt to lure them; it always made him just a little territorial.

He wouldn't hesitate to grab you by the back of your head and lean into you. Pressing his bloody mouth to yours with a growl in the back of his throat. Eyes hooded and almost glaring at you even if his body was pressing into you.

"...Ya sure did take your good ol sweet time getting this sack of monkey shit out here. Did you have to let him grab your ass?" He'd grumble, hands pressing you as close as possible into him. Purposely putting his hand over what that man did. You couldn't help the coy smile as you breathlessly asked, "Jealous Sev?" It always earned him shoving you a against the nearest wall or picking you up while gazing into your eyes hungrily. "Maybe I am... I just ain't too eager on anyone touching you but me. You're mine, darlin'."

Making him a bit jealous with a victim was foreplay for the night to come if nothing else. Even if he knew you would never get with such lowdown scumbags...It still made him bristle the longer it drew out. You may or may not do it on purpose once in a while.

Sometimes if a man was too aggressive it pissed YOU off enough to make the kill yourself without his help. He'd always smirk and watch with satisfaction at the terror you inflicted. Those kisses were different. Attentive, running his thumb along your cheeks as he cupped your face, gazing down at you and softly asking "You alright, honey?" Physically he knew you were. It was mental and emotional damage he was concerned with. He'd sweetly kiss your forehead and ease his way down to your lips if you nodded. If you shook your head and it was more traumatic than you intended, he'd wrap you in his arms and promise to make the next few kills till you felt better.

[aquilaofarkham]

title: the little death rating: T+ word count: 2,409 summary: Two years after his fight with Death, Trevor’s injuries start catching up to him while Alucard realizes that humans are more fragile than he thought. 

For @trevorsmellmont ❤️  Thank you so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

There’s a sharp pain pooling beneath his right arm, coursing through his ribcage. Trevor ignores it just as he’s ignored all the other aches, jabs, and stings over the past two years. Two years of building something better, something sustainable to last far longer than its young, admittedly green founders. Countless days, weeks, and months erecting homes, gardens, and pens for those dumb gentle animals who think the entire townscape is their personal pasture. Not another mistake of allowing them to wander aimlessly straight into the castle. As if heifers need to learn how to craft medicine or conduct what’s being referred to as “electricity”.

The work will never be finished. Even on days like this when the sun burns hotter than any circle in hell. A few drops of warm salt-ridden sweat crawl past Trevor’s pressed lips and into his dry mouth. Pain and thick heat were never enough to stop him before—he tells himself this, barely certain of his own supportive thoughts (a new concept taking root in his mind). Take it slow, don’t push yourself, idiot. This cabin made from the earth will get built eventually. Another family will receive their forever home to fill with lots of babies. Old wounds beg to differ as Trevor’s arms begin to weaken, each movement slower than the last, struggling to keep up with Greta’s superior pace. She’s always known her way around a mallet.

Another bead of sweat gets caught in Trevor’s lashes, sparing his eyes from temporary discomfort. Though it wouldn’t have mattered as they’re already past any sort of respite. He looks for distraction but can only see the blurred shapes coming from a huddle of bodies, despite being a short distance from them. He knows it’s only Sypha and Alucard with the village children, which gives Trevor some relief.

There’s more comfort to be felt when he remembers that one of those little monsters is his own, nestled in Sypha’s lap then placed in Alucard’s gentle arms. She has a name far too long for any toddler to pronounce—Elizabeta Belnades Tepes Belmont—so what rolls off her developing tongue instead is simply “Liza”. She’s innocent now but once she leaves this little man-made paradise and ventures into a harsher world, she will take more after her mother and father. Grabbing whatever life offers with both fists, clawing and biting her way through every obstacle until her teeth are reddened with bloody meat. For the time being, they relish Liza’s soft cheeks, wispy hair, and the way she throws herself at whichever adult happens to be in her nearest vicinity. The other children are helping her socialize by playing games and embracing frivolity; a tactic Trevor remembers from his own upbringing, though with less games and even less frivolity. 

“Think you can handle one or two more?”

Greta’s voice manages to cut through Trevor’s mental fog. Funny how she asks if he can “think” about anything especially at this suffocating moment. She must have noticed the way his lips curl into a happy doped up grin while observing his family and couldn’t help but inquire. As any close, loved and valued friend would.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“What’s wrong with looking a bit further into the future? Now that we all have one.” 

“Looking is one thing, but seriously suggesting is something else completely. My… performance in certain areas isn’t as up to snuff as it used to be.”

As Trevor says this, things deteriorate and get a bit fuzzier from his eyesight down to his chest. Out of focus. Painful. He keeps talking, keeps ignoring the inevitable. Always ignoring what his own body screams for.

Greta wrinkles her nose at his statement. “There are children present, Belmont.”

“What? I’m referring to the house. I barely managed to get one wall up while you’re already on the fucking roof.”

“So dramatic. You three really do deserve each other. And you’re still young.”

“On the outside, maybe.”

She laughs at his lie, misinterpreting it as another piece of mild self-deprecatory banter he might never be able to live without. Greta says something else, perhaps her own personal jest to counter his, but Trevor cannot hear. Breath grows heavier, forcing out a raspy “it’s fine. It’s just my chest”. Barely able to tell if Greta actually said anything about his sudden condition. Or rather, not so sudden. No, this has been building over quite some time now. His muscles and bones screaming, begging for relief or death, and end to everything—whichever comes first. Feelings that only worsened over the years.

Trevor loses control over his legs, now practically boneless. The collision between his head and the ground is nothing compared to the inner war over his heart. Whether it will finally succumb. Greta immediately calls for help—he thinks without confidence, once again. Trevor can still hear voices, but not their exact words. Not Sypha when she demands to know what happened. Not Alucard when he begs for him to stay conscious. Not even Liza as she cries for her papa.

Then all the chaos in the world fades into slow darkness.

--

Alucard stands outside the closed bedchamber door, contemplating how often he’s touched Trevor’s body. Lithe fingertips have memorized every crevice, scar, soft and rough spots alike. Not just as a lover with wandering hands underneath blankets in the dead of night. Or a friend who holds him steady on both feet when he needs it. But as this family’s self-appointed physician. 

Perhaps the prince of two worlds took after his father after all. “Polymath” is what Alucard used to describe Dracula and the very same word others have referred to him as, mostly in the realm of medicine. He knows more than anyone, little offence given towards the herb dispensers and leech farmers (only to be polite for his own townsfolk). Thus, through the anxieties and trembling hands, Alucard gave Trevor his diagnosis: heat exhaustion along with a muscle somewhere in his chest that decided to go rogue and strain itself.

The son of Tepes, the only local doctor worth trusting, and arguably the co-leader of their little prospering hamlet paces across the hall like Trevor did the day Liza was born. He’s on the other side of that closed door, resting. Bedridden from heat exhaustion and a fucking pulled muscle. It bothers Alucard. This shouldn’t have happened to someone who stood up to the personification of Death and pissed in his eye. A stupidly common and easily treatable inconvenience to the human body shouldn’t be the end of a fucking Belmont.

It shouldn’t—unless Trevor’s scars have anything to say about it. The ones on the inside and outside. Inside, unseen, and untreatable. There’s a harsh revelation to be found there; one which the prince has been purposefully avoiding up to this moment. Alucard can try as he wants, use the tools left behind by his father and mother as though it were their final death wish, but he might never tend to what pains Trevor on the inside. He’s a Belmont, undeniably so, but Belmonts are human despite the many recurring signs pointing to the contrary. Then there’s Sypha with her magic, but she’s human as well. Greta and Liza are still human. Humans are more susceptible to dying easy, little deaths even when they follow world-saving victories.

Where does this leave Alucard? Thoughts spiral down, down towards darker places the longer he nervously hovers outside the bedroom. He’s been known to awkwardly stumble into deflection, insisting he’s only half human whenever certain someones bring up this topic of necessary conversation. Meaning he might as well not be human at all. Not when the bodies of those he loves change so rapidly while his remains petrified. It’s only been two years, filled to the brim with countless hours he wouldn’t ever want to trade for the entire world. But the thought of one night as they nestle themselves into bed and Alucard touches either Trevor or Sypha’s chest only to feel an anomaly within their hearts. The earliest sign that time and age will eventually betray them as it does for all mortals—it could be the one thing to break him.

Alucard stops himself at the opportune moment, right before he starts thinking about his mother and father. Did Dracula ever contemplate Lisa’s mortality? Was the decision to never turn her easy or the hardest thing he forced upon his unstable, immortal conscience? Arms crossed over his chest like a protective cage, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt until it hurts, Alucard swallows a bitter glob of spit and reaches for the doorknob. Sypha will have to accept the fact that he couldn’t wait for her. He quietly thanks her for the lessons she taught him. If he needs to talk about something—truly talk, no sarcastic wit or banter, just the raw emotions—Alucard no longer hesitates. He won’t, not as he enters the room and immediately sees Trevor still in bed, not quite altogether there. At least he can manage a decent smile and wave of his hand.

“Evening.”

“How does your chest feel?”

“Still a bit tight, but I’ve been taking deep breaths like the doctor ordered.”

The amount of strain heard in Trevor’s voice worries Alucard. Hopefully the Belmont has learned something from the recent past, so he won’t be stupid and suggest anything having to do with leaving bed or getting back to work.

 “I think I should get up.”

“I think that’s a poor decision.”

“Are you saying that as my physician or because you’re letting that pretty little blonde head of yours get too worked up?”

No. Yes. Both? If only Trevor didn’t look up at him with those glassy eyes (can he still see him?) the colour of stained glass windows erected in cathedrals he felt so unwelcome inside. If only that smile, somehow both soft and shit-eating, wasn’t in place of a more serious expression. Then maybe Alucard could voice his concerns without being accused of acting overbearing—an accusation grounded in solid evidence but he’s not ready to admit that yet. Not out loud.

“Normal, healthy adults do not become bedridden after pulling a small muscle in their chest.”

“Belmonts aren’t normal… or healthy in my case.”

Alucard’s brow furrows. “I want to think you’re healthy—” I need to. “—that you’ll live long enough to see the children of this village have little ones of their own. Liza included.”

“God’s sake, she’s only two years old. You and Greta, always talking about looking one step too far into the future. Let her be a child before adulthood rears its ugly maw.”

“Try not to change the subject.”

Trevor lifts his head off the indent pressed into his sweat drenched pillow. “Alright. Fine. I feel much better. I won’t push myself and give my heart some more time to recover.”

No response coupled with broken eye contact; sure signs of Alucard’s reluctance to accept his rather weak assurance. The Belmont has no other choice.

“Come here. Sit.”

Another moment’s hesitation before Alucard complies. Feeling his weight upon the mattress, Trevor blindly reaches for his wrist until calloused fingers grip cool, unblemished skin.

“Now lie down. No, no. Not like that. Place your head right here.” He pats his chest and with a fleeting amount of guidance, Alucard’s cheek fits perfectly between his breasts. Two hands smooth over the dhampir’s curves before one before one rests on his silk smooth head and the other against the small of his back. Alucard lied about one thing: his own body can change in small yet noticeable ways. Without the need to fight for the lives of others, whether today or tomorrow, sharp edges turn softer. Trevor and Sypha have finally let themselves breathe as well, let go, and enjoy all of life’s pleasures.

“Hear that?” He asks Alucard.

“... It’s slow.”

“Slow and strong like it should be.”

Alucard wishes he could bottle up that heartbeat or place it in a box. Preferably a music box to listen to its soothing melody long after its original body and soul are both eventually gone from this world. Who knows? It might make things hurt a little bit less like when he redrew his parent’s portrait or built a much larger nursery where his own used to be. Not a lot, but Alucard could possibly live with just “a little”.

“Speaking of Greta…” The baritone of Trevor’s voice sends deep vibrations through his broad chest, tickling Alucard’s cheek. “She said something about more children.”

“More orphans joining us?”

“No, even though I know how much you love those damn orphans. She asked if we could handle one or two more.”

“What did you say?”

“I implied that she was taking after Sypha’s influence by being wonderfully insane.”

Alucard chuckles in agreement. That sounds like Greta. “You never know. It might be good for Liza if she has a younger sibling.”

With the sound of Sypha’s well timed arrival, he’s mercifully saved from Trevor’s lengthy speech about how patience is apparently a virtue and tirades about his “performance” or lack thereof. Greta reveals herself shortly afterwards with a still crying Liza in tow. So many bodies gathered around one inebriated individual, here for him and him alone. Trevor’s consoled yet exasperated expression directed at Greta in particular says “isn’t there someone more important you could be helping right now?”

Sypha is the first to voice her gratitude after fussing over her exhausting loved one. “I will never be able to thank you enough, Alucard.”

“I think the bed did most of the heavy lifting, love.”

Trevor is given an affectionate, somewhat caring glare in response but his focus is demanded elsewhere once he suddenly notices Liza jumping onto the bed. She snuggles herself between him and Alucard, wetting their shirts with her tears.

“Easy there, you little monster. Papa’s still a bit tender.” Not that she can understand or care.

There’s an aura of relief felt amongst everyone in the room—less with Alucard who smiles bittersweetly. It’s a truth he knew he had to acknowledge before it tore his heart open. Trevor and Sypha will die one day and he will have to bury them. He’ll bury Greta, he might even bury Liza. Not today thank all the gods, or tomorrow, not for the next few decades if fate is kind enough. 

But the day will come. And it will be Alucard’s own little death.

[missinghan]

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it. 

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him? 

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums. 

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle. 

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh. 

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes. 

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you. 

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.” 

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record. 

The ballroom feels significantly colder now. 

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’. 

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place. 

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two. 

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight. 

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here. 

If he is going to show up at all that is. 

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you. 

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him. 

You’re beautiful. 

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical. 

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention. 

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say? 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.” 

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you. 

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you. 

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up? 

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears. 

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you. 

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud. 

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process. 

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart. 

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport. 

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball. 

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year. 

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now. 

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up. 

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time. 

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours. 

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance. 

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“ 

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire. 

It’s perfect. Almost. 

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something. 

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

[cheeky-kookie]

Overruled | KTH

Taehyung/Reader | Angst, Slow Burn, Royal!AU | Prince!Taehyung x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12.4K

Summary: You always knew that you were viewed nothing more than an asset when it came to the heart of men. The luxury of meeting someone who saw you for you almost didn’t exist. It just took your whole life being ripped apart to find yourself lucky enough to come across one.

Warnings: Language | Violence | Blood | Imprisonment | Mentions of Death | Non-Main-Character Deaths | Taehyung Risking It For The Biscuit |

AN: This took me forever but thank you guys for sticking with me and waiting for it! I have so many ideas and just not enough time! Keep your eye out for the others I have coming.

Tonight, like many other nights, you sat at the main area with your father. Your eyes wandered the crowd gracing the ball floor. It was a mess of gowns and bodies spinning and turning to the time of the music. It was the same thing every time one of these was hosted. You watched as the nobles enjoyed themselves and drank until there was no care left for them in this world.

If you looked closer within the mass of fabric swirling in front of you, you can see the smiling faces of the ladies as they were enthralled with the idea that the handsome men spinning them on the floor wanted to dance with them. Every one of the couples synchronized with not only the music but with the others as well. All weaving around each other with ease.

This event, like the others, was only for the nobles and other royalties to butter up to your father and win his good graces. They wanted that slim chance to marry you, for that matter. If they win you, they win the crown and unite their kingdom with yours.

Your eyes landed on a man, whom you recognized as one for the princes from the neighboring kingdom. You had only met him once before in passing, but you had to be good with faces. He was making his way through the crowd of people, in the direction of where you sat. Once in front of you, he bowed to both you and your father.

“May I ask the fine lady to dance?” He asked, offering his hand out to you, though you weren’t entirely sure if he was asking you or your father.

A curt nod from your father made your decision for you. You stood, returning his bow with your own, “I would be honored.”

Taking his hand with your own, he led the way onto the floor. Turning you in his direction, he placed his other hand on your waist. Soon, both of you were in sync with the others letting the music guide your movements.

In the many years you had been alive and the many dances you had to endure, you realized no one liked to actually talk. You were nothing to these men who ask for your hand and drag you around the floor. To them, you were a transaction. You were just one step of a bigger picture. Nothing more than an item looking to be sold to the highest bidder.

You didn’t blame your father. He didn’t like doing this to you. It was just how it had to be.  

So, you stayed quiet keeping his eye contact as he led you around the floor. You felt many eyes on you as you two spun throughout the crowd, not needing to look to confirm whether they were really. Your movement was always watched whether it be from your people or the lady-in-waiting who does your bidding whenever you call. You held the smile on your face so the eyes watching would think you were having a wonderful time, and maybe if you smiled enough you could will the idea into existence.

Oh, how you wished it were willed into existence.

A large bang was heard loud enough to be heard over the sound of music and the chatter of socializing. You stumbled as the man directing you halted with no warning. The music slowly dwindled to nothing as each person playing grew curious of the sound. The sound of people talking and whispering amplified by the newfound silence.

Another loud bang.

This time, you felt your heart rate raise a little as you watched as your father motioned to a knight near him and spoke to him as few knights slipped out of the many doors in the room. The man next to you seeming more alert than before though you were more preoccupied with the look in your father’s eyes. He looked put together but his eyes held the one thing you never thought you’d see in them. Fear.

A third one.

With the sound of that one, the room fell into chaos. The doors flung open, splinters and chunks of wood scattering into the air from the brute force of the entry. Unknown figures entered through the destruction armed and ready to attack any and all.

You watched as the men that were attending the ball unsheathed their weapons and jumped into the mess of intruders to help the many knights who have been overwhelmed. The man whom you had been dancing with had left you alone amongst the scared guests.

The whole room was filled with the clanking of metal and yelling, but it was drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat as your adrenaline took over. You realized you were in the open and maneuvered your way toward one of the many columns scatter throughout the room. Once behind it and in cover, you let out a shaky breath you had no idea you had been holding.

You peaked around the pillar; your eyes scanned the room for your father. You noticed him on his feet, fighting against some man who you assumed had entered with the intruders. Deciding to try to make it to him, you searched the rest of the room.

Your eyes only met destruction and bodies; some being the enemy and some your own people. Your eyes even found the image of a small child crying into the chest of his mother who laid on the floor covered in her own blood and unmoving. You leaned your head back against the pillar trying to erase the image to no avail.

With an uneasy breath, you started to head toward your father. You eyed the hand of a dead body as you moved through the chaos, grabbing the dagger from his lifeless fingertips. Once in hand you grasped the hilt, not noticing your knuckles turning a shade of white from the amount of force you gripped it with.

You took a step backwards to avoid a scuffle that was coming from your left, causing you to trip over some debris. You kicked yourself back against the wall as you tried to avoid being the next person lying on the ground in a pool of their own blood. The knight fought against the other man, neither aware you were even there.

You stood back up looking for your father once again. You found him mid fight with the same intruder as before. Closer now, he noticed you were still in the room. He locked eyes with you, which seemed to be all the distraction the other man needed. The blade was shoved dead in the middle of the king’s chest and his eyes grew wide and he grasped at the sword. Once out of his chest, your father fell to his knees and then to the ground.

Your whole world shifted as you felt the sting of tears threatening to blur your vision. Amongst the terrified screams and fighting, your own gut-wrenching scream could barely be heard. Instead of falling to your own knees like you wished you could, you fought against the feeling of your lungs collapsing as you gasped for air; having it knocked out of you from the metaphorical blow.

You started to make your way toward his body when multiple of the heavily armor-clad trespassers noticed you. You couldn’t hear what the one yelled over your still coursing heartbreak, but they started moving in on you. That’s when you took one final look at your father and ran.

You hopped over the heaps of bodies that now scattered the room and ran out one of the broken doors, barely avoiding the swing of a blade that ran astray from a battle you pasted by. Once out of the main room, you found the fight was still going on in the halls as well.

You desperately looked for a way to escape. Deciding the left was arguably safer, you hurried down the corridor. You rounded the corner, knowing there was a passage a few halls further that exited out into the garden where you could hopefully find shelter. You felt two hands grab you and you weren’t entirely sure if he had come from in front of you or behind. Pinned to the wall, you tried fighting him off. You shook your arm free and, with dagger still in hand, you thrusted it between his helmet and chest plate. His eyes grew wide as he released you, choking on his own blood.

You stood frozen, eyes looking between the man now on the floor gasping for air and your own hand now soaked in red. Just as quick as you froze, you were brought back into reality. You switched the blade into your other hand as you wiped the blood off your hand onto your dress which had already been ruined.

It felt like hours before you made it to the passage that lead outside but, it had only been mere minutes. Opening the door, you sucked in a breath of fresh air; something you felt you had been deprived of for too long. You leaned against the now closed door. The newfound silence only broken by your staggered breathing and the sound of your kingdom aflame in the distance.

You heard a conversation in the distance, it not being loud enough to understand. You hoped the dark of night would conceal you from those who you didn’t want to see you. Your breath hitched as you heard the voices come nearer. You had gotten so far, and it wouldn’t mean anything if you were caught. You decided to risk it.

You ran for the hedges, hearing the men now hurrying toward you. You were almost to shelter. Almost. But your foot landed on an uneven patch of ground, causing your ankle to twist and you to tumble down to the ground. On impact, the dagger flew from your hand. You searched the ground for it, but it was too late.

You felt your heart leave your chest as two men grabbed your arms pulling you up from the ground. Kicking, you tried fighting against them, but their strength was too much for you. You didn’t give up, even if it was a useless task.

You were pulled back into the building, which was oddly quiet. It only confirmed the worst, that your kingdom had now fallen. You assumed whoever wasn’t dead was taken as prisoner. The halls became familiar as they tracked back the way you came to the grand chamber.

Once there, your eyes landed on the mass of bodies being moved into a pile at the end of the room. Then they found your own father’s. He was surrounded by a few men, one obviously the king of the intruders and the other, you could only see the back of.

“Your majesty, we found her fleeing. If I’m not mistaken, this is indeed the princess.” One of the men holding you hostage announced.

but to disgrace your father and irritate you. Angered, you demanded they let you go and continued to do so, hoping annoying the poor men would work.

“What would you like us to do with her, sir?” The other asked.

“Shut her up, will you?” He asked, exhaustion dripping from his voice.

You saw the man next to you raise the hilt of his sword and swing it down at you. You couldn’t say what happened next because you in fact had no idea because your whole world went black.

When you woke, you expected to be laying in your bed under your duvet. The hard surface you found yourself laying on was not your bed and it was a rough reminder of the events that took place before you were knocked unconscious.

You opened your eyes being met with the sight of the dirt floor. Pushing yourself up off the ground, you groaned as the pain in your head increased with the new position you now sat in. Your dress was dirty and ripped around the bottom. You weren’t sure if it happened while you were running or when they dragged your unconscious body to where it is now. You noticed the blood you wiped off your hands had darkened as it dried into the fabric of the skirt.

Slightly disoriented, you looked around trying to focus on anything other than your ruined dress and the pounding of your head. You made out an old wooden bench that probably would fall apart if too much pressure was put onto it. Above that, a small window. There was barely any light flowing through but enough for you to determine that it was early morning. Turning your head the other way, your eyes focused on the metal barring you within the small room.

You pulled yourself onto your feet only to trip from the rush of pressure that went to your head. You gripped the bench and pulled yourself onto it hoping that it wouldn’t buckle from the weight. Once sitting on it you leaned your head against the wall and closed your eyes. Your vision still blurring in and out whenever you concentrated to hard on something, you hoped closing them would relieve some pain.

Your mind flashed back to your last conscious memory. The image of your father on the floor and the man standing over him looking at him like he was just some pest that finally got what was coming to him. And then, you were locked away in your own dungeon. You had never really ventured to the castles personal prison on your own accord, so you had no idea what it looked like until now. The only confirmation that you were still within the walls of your home was the residual smell of smoke from the town that was burning the night before.

Tears ran down your cheeks as you let your body fall sideway until you laid on the bench. You didn’t even try to hide your cries, for no one was around to hear you. The impact of your world exploding seeming to be too much to handle and the only thing your mind knew to do was send droplets out of your eyes and sobs from your chest. The only sound to comfort you being the echo of your own cries in the empty dungeon.

What you noticed while you were in your own personal hell that time seemed to blend together. You seemed to wake and sleep whenever your body wanted you to. The only indication of time you had was the little bit of outside you saw through the window. Even then, you weren’t sure exactly how long you’d been locked up. If you had to guess, you would say you were there for maybe a week at the most. The only interaction you had with anyone was limited to the guards bringing you food. Other than that, it was just you alone with your thoughts.

It gave you time to grieve the loss of your life and what you had always known. You spent the first few days crying, having the only words of wisdom being the guards telling you to shut it whenever they decided it seemed fit to feed you. You cried less, though you felt like the hole in your chest would never be filled. You had never gotten to say goodbye and that broke open healing wounds whenever the thought crossed your mind.

You were sitting, staring at the bars from the bench when you heard someone entering the area. You perked up, confused. This was too close to the last time you were fed; it didn’t seem right.

You watched as a figure found its way in front of your cell. From what you observed, he had no idea you sat a mere few feet away. The lantern he held in his hand lighting what the small window of your cell didn’t reach. The back of him looking oddly familiar, but you knew you had no clue who this was or why they were amongst the prisoners of the castle.

You stood, curious of the man. You studied him as he searched the area, finding an old wooden chair. He kicked it into the corner farthest from the cells before setting the lantern town next to it. He proceeded to then sit in it, resting his hands on his legs. His eyes focused on the ground.

You reached the outer wall of your enclosure, lacing your hand through one of the bars as you peered through it in his direction. He seemed almost as if he was overwhelmed or tired; maybe both.

“You seem down,” You croak out, surprised your voice didn’t fail you. You didn’t think it would fail you because you were afraid but because of its lack of use.

His head slowly lifted, reaching your eyes for the first time since his presence was known. Your breath hitched just from the intensity of his glare. His dark locks fell around his face in waves resting right above his eyes, casting a shadow onto them. His head turned to the side ever so slightly as he examined you from the distance.

“I am,” He spoke; his voice as deep as the glare he still held on you.

For a moment, you let the silence take over. His eyes never broke off of you as his words sunk into your being. It wasn’t much of a reply, but it was a reply. It was more of a response than you’ve gotten within days.

You swallowed trying to wet your throat before speaking again, “I didn’t expect you to respond. No one does.”

His eyes didn’t waver away from you as he took in your words. Another silence set in but now that it had been broken, it seemed so much heavier than before. Part of you wondered what could possibly be going through his mind as he stared so intently in your direction, though you knew better than to ask. So, instead, you waited for a response if there would be one.

“Well, surprise.” He said, leaning back.

He rested his upper half against the back of the wooden chair, his body finding a more relaxed position. Even then, his eyes still held on you. For the first time in days, you wondered what condition you were truly in. You assumed you were full of mud, possibly bloody and bruised. You felt exhausted and you knew your face showed it. Not once did your appearance come to mind, but under his intense stare, it was a passing thought you couldn’t shake.

Still unsure if you had full trust in your voice, you cleared it before hesitantly adding to the very short conversation, “Why are you down?”

He didn’t seem to hear you, or well, he chose not to acknowledge your question because he didn’t attempt to reply. You couldn’t quite blame him for his lack in communication. If the roles had been reversed, and you found yourself on the outside looking in, you probably wouldn’t have even batted an eye in your direction.

You let out a quiet sigh, knowing full well whatever socialization you had been gifted had come to an end. Even so, you were oddly satisfied that someone had given you the time of day. It might have been the bare minimum, but it wasn’t nothing. For that you were grateful.

You pushed yourself off of the bars of the cell, letting your hand drop from the one you were grasping.

“Is that dried blood?”

Shocked from his question, you looked down at where you had wiped the mess that had been on your hands days prior. You had almost forgotten about the stain adhered to the fabric you had been wearing, but without a doubt when you looked back down there it was.

You leaned back forward to look at him through the gaps between the bars. He was still looking in your direction, though his eyes seemed to soften as he waited for a response.

“Yeah,” You let out a shaky breath. Memories of that man pinning you against the wall flooded back to the front of your mind. You felt your w burn as you fought the tears, “Yeah, it’s dried blood.”

Silence fell again, which seemed to be a reoccurring theme within the conversation, though this time you weren’t yearning for it to continue. You looked away from him and blinked, hoping the brimming tears wouldn’t cascade down. It was quiet enough you could make out the sound of faint footsteps getting closer to your own cell. You pushed off the door again, this time actually making it to the only seating within room.

You could tell he too could hear the footsteps. He sighed, standing up from his sitting position. He then gripped the lantern that had been comfortably sitting next to his feet the whole time. Just as he did so, a guard rounded the corner, food in hand. You assumed the food was for you.

A peak out the small window of your cell told you more time had passed that you expected, and that it very may well have been time for them to bring you food.

Taken aback by another figure, the guard halted. The unknown man nodded at him in recognition.

“Ah, we have been searching for you,” The guard announced, “The king is in need of your presence, sir.”

You watched as the gentleness in his eyes he had shown you moments before disappeared, only to be replaced with the same tired look he held when he first sat down in the chair. You felt bad for him even though you were the one imprisoned. You wondered if him wandering the prisoners ward was him escaping whatever thing was wearing him thin.

“I’m always needed,” He sighed but still proceeded to maneuver around the guard before disappearing the way he had come.

The guard shook his head disapprovingly, before sliding the food into the cell with little to no care. He muttered something to himself you couldn’t quit make out from your seat on the bench and then left you on your own.

If you hadn’t lost track of the days before, you had now. It had been a few days, or maybe a week, since you had found yourself in the company of the unknown man. You weren’t entirely sure how long it had truly been because you barely noticed the difference between the warm rays of the day and the soft light of the night.

It was hard to focus with your mind being so numbingly bored. You actually started to look forward to the times they brought you the god-awful slop they fed you. The guards, though not the best conversationalists, still bought a difference into your very dull life. They at least bought something to the table that the dirt floor and the rusted iron bars could never do.

You found yourself mindlessly picking at your fingers. The amount of mud and dirt caking to them had become quite evident and you weren’t exactly fond of the idea. You felt disgusting having been in the same clothes days on end. You had come to the conclusion that you’d be wearing this torn up garment until there was nothing left of it.

You heard the squeaking of a lantern echoing from down the hall. It was late, past the last feeding of the night. The guards should have left you down there to drown in loneliness by now. Your eyes fell on the light making it closer to your cell. Even within the small haze of the lamp, there was no mistaking the eyes of the man approaching. He wore a simple shirt contrasting the more up done one you saw him in the first time. Even late in the night, he looked well put together.

Once in front of your cell, you watched him locate the chair he sat in before. He then proceeded to grab one of the torch sticks, lighting it with the fame of the lantern. He stuck it back on the wall, it lighting not only the hall but the cell you were confined into.

You slowly stood up off your seat, curious as to why he was down here again. Or better yet, you were just curious of who he was. He shot you a passing glance as he then bent back over, grabbing something off the chair. You made your way slowly to the barred off area, peaking through the gaps between them. All you saw was his back and the way his shoulders moved under the fabric concealing them. You felt a wash of familiarity come over you like before, but you would have remembered meeting a face like his.

You quickly adverted your gaze when he turned back around, not wanting to admit you might have been staring at him for a tad too long. He walked forward, hands holding what seemed to me a mass of cloth. He stopped inches in front of the bars, his gaze meeting your eyes. He threaded his arm though the bars, handing you what was in his hands.

“It’s not much,” He paused, releasing it to you, “But I figured it would be better than wearing what you are currently.”

You stood silently, excepting his gift. You were taken slightly aback. You had been attacked, chased, and knocked out. You had been thrown in your own castles dungeon and fed like a dog. You didn’t know what to expect but an act of kindness from anyone wasn’t it.

Hurrying back towards the dimmer end of your cell, you set the clothes down on the bench and examined them. The whiff of clean clothes enticed your senses, making your heart race. It was foolish to be so excited over a clean set of clothes, but you were.

Uncaring to whether you had prying eyes, you began to strip out of your dress. It dropped to the floor, along with all the horrible memories it kept reminding you of. You didn’t care that the white shirt that he gave you was eerily similar to the one he was wearing. You were just glad to be out of the thing now laying in a lump on the floor.

Once in fresh clothes, you walked slowly back to peak through the gaps. He sat in the corner, same position as the first time you saw him; arms resting on his legs and head hanging low. You made the conclusion that most likely didn’t try to steal a glimpse of you changing. You watched him for a moment, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts.

“Thank you,” The words come out as almost a squeak, voice being weakened by the lack of use yet again. He lifted his head, eerily similar to the time before yet no intense glare. His eyes were soft, and you were able to see they were a dark brown when not consumed behind the metaphorical mask he wore. He straightened up, running a hand through his dark locks.

“Wish I could have done more,” He said, voice quiet but the silence of the hall amplifying every word that left his lips.

Your heart panged at the kindness being shown for it was a nice change, but the constant state of fear you had come to know gnawed at you like a gnat.

“But why?” Your voice hoarse but you forced the question anyways.

He hummed to himself for a moment, as if contemplating whether he wanted to give you the answer before looking you in the eyes once more, “I wouldn’t want to be wearing someone else’s blood.”

Silence fell between the two of you as you absorbed his words. Your eyes drifted to the dress in the corner before looking back at him. You didn’t know what his reasoning would be, but you never thought it would have been that. You also didn’t expect him to break the comfortable silence, but he seemed full of surprises since you met him.

“What happened?”

You saw the way his eyes caught the refection of the torch fire as the flames danced within them but behind that you saw what you only could decipher as concern, or guilt.

“I was attacked. I did what I had to.” You spoke, his eyes still trained on you.

He nodded in understanding. He then slowly stood up from the chair and reached for the lantern on the ground grabbing that as well. He started to walk towards where he came but stopped in front of the bars of your cell.

He glanced over, “I hope you’re able to get rest.”

The odds of that happening were slim to none, you both knew that. Still, it was another nice gesture that he in no way needed to do, especially to someone who was imprisoned. You wondered why he seemed to be so kind to you, but maybe he was just that. Just as quick as he turned to look at you, he started to leave all the same.

“Can you at least tell me your name?” You ask but it comes out more as a plea. He halted his movements and turned back to you. You watched him turn to look at you once again, this time you watched as one of the corners of his mouth perked up ever so slightly.

“Taehyung.” Was all he responded before both he and the light had disappeared down the hall.

Part of you, almost all of you, wanted something to grasp onto, even if it was just a name.

Fresh air.

The concept seemed so foreign to you now. You were used to the damp and the musk by now, but your mind traveled to that night where everything went downhill. You remembered the fresh air you had inhaled and the slight smell of roses that had engulfed the night.

So, there you were on the tips of your toes leaning dangerously close to the edge of the bench. Your fingers grasped the edge of the small, barred window of your cell. You had been hoping to possibly get a breath of fresh air from the open window.

Somehow, you had propped yourself up enough to barely see out of it. You were surprised to find that your window was located by the very garden you had been fantasizing about. Honestly, you were surprised at yourself for not trying this sooner. Seeing any color other than the brown walls of the dungeon was welcoming enough.

You felt the suns rays hit your face and you closed your eyes in satisfaction. You felt a cool breeze kiss your face and the smell of roses wafted in your direction. You sighed in content, just happy to feel something from the outside world once again.

“What are you doing?” A deep voice broke the silence you were enjoying, scaring you. Your grip on the ledge failed as you tried not to stumble off the edge of the bench. You fell onto the dirt floor despite your attempts not to.

You sat up slowly and turned to the source of the voice. Your voice dry as you responded, “I miss outside, Taehyung.”

You had grown accustomed to his sporadic visits. Ever since he had bought you a change of clothes, he seemed to show up more often though it was never for long. You noticed that he was not much of a conversationalist, but you believed that to be because he always seemed to have something on his mind distracting him. You could see it in the way his eyes never felt they were in the present moment.

He looked away avoiding your glance, “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

The room grew quiet as you watched him walk towards the seat he had claimed as his own. He seemed a little more dressed up than the past few times he had decided to grace you with his presence. His hair though, still fell across his face in waves of black.

You pulled yourself off the floor and walked towards him, leaning against the metal to look at him better, “You always seem so distracted.”

He looked up from his hands and bit the inside of his cheek. He looked as though whatever was on his mind was on the tip of his tongue and he was biting it right back down. He directed his attention down the hall and away from you and your observation. He obviously having no intentions of responding to your statement.

You dropped to the ground, sitting with your legs crossed, “I didn’t notice that my cell was one of the ones located by the garden. I could smell the flowers when I felt the breeze hit my face. I used to walk the garden with my father before, well...”

You raised your arms, motioning to your cell. Taehyung’s eyes found your eyes once again. You let out a  laugh, finding the irony of the situation funny. Here you sat caged away when right outside your window bloomed freedom and life.

His eyebrows raised at your laughter obviously surprised by your outburst. He watched as your smile faded, and your eyes glossed over.

“I miss him,” You sighed, “He wasn’t the best, but he cared.”

“I’m sorry,” He said, and you felt as though he was apologizing for more than just your father’s death.

Your hand traced one of the iron bars in front of you feeling the cool metal under your fingertips. He watched as you did so, finding your ability to be so calm when everything you had known had crumbed to be quite astounding.

“I’m sorry can’t fix what has already happened. I just wish he had gotten a proper burial.” You sighed, looking away from your hand and finding Taehyung’s figure against the wall, “So, why do you hide down here with the prisoners?”

“You’re better company,” He responded, which surprised you. You weren’t expecting him to answer your question because up to this point he had been a master of keeping the focus off him. He always somehow flipped it back onto you and if he couldn’t do that, then he grew silent.

“Me?” You asked not being able to hide the innocent shock that laced your voice, “I’m sorry, but I’m sure there are plenty of people who could keep you in good company that aren’t locked away.”

He chuckled dryly, “You speak to me like I’m real. Up there, it’s scripted. They’re too afraid of what might happen if they said the wrong thing. It’s ‘yes sir’ and ‘anything for you’ but I never hear people’s wants and their feelings. No one wants to have a conversation.”

You felt a wave of familiarity in what he was saying. You felt as if things started to finally make sense for the first time since he began visiting. From the guilty look in his eyes to the kind gestures he had shown. He had felt familiar, but you never knew how until that moment. Your eyes widen at the realization.

“When your father’s the king, you don’t get to just talk.” You replied almost monotoned, knowing too well the way people treated the offspring of royalty even if they were royalty themselves.

His body stiffened at your words. You could tell he wasn’t expecting you to make the connection and it threw him off guard, body going defensive automatically.

“How did you-“ He paused with a loss of words.

“Because that’s how I felt,” You sighed as you remembered the countless nights sitting up hoping someone would truly want to treat you like a human being and not some figure or purchase, “I knew you looked familiar. I- I couldn’t quite place it. I knew I hadn’t met you before. I’d remember a face like yours. I did see you though, standing over my father’s body before I was knocked out.”

“If it were me, none of this would have happened,” He said, gaze falling on your position on the ground.

“You can’t help who your father is,” You reassured not completely sure why you felt the need to, “But, if I were to be frank, your father is a piece of shit.”

For the first time since he had begun coming to your cell to keep you company, you heard him truly laugh. It wasn’t one of those fake ones he had shown you, but a genuinely bubbly sound. It flowed into his whole face, brightening it.

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it,” He responded, a boxy smile gracing his lips.

He began to visit more, and you hated to admit you waited for him. Every time you heard footsteps come toward you the idea that it could be him crosses your mind. Your heart rate would quicken and the bit of energy that your body would produce was evidence enough that you hoped it would be him instead of a guard there to feed you.

You couldn’t blame yourself. If it weren’t for him, you probably would have gone mad from isolation. It wasn’t hard to understand why the prisoners your own father had held for information gave in so quickly. Being alone with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company and entertained could drive anyone mad.

It led you to think of why you were in fact, still alive. You would have thought you would have been discarded by now since you really had no more use. Taehyung’s father had successfully taken over your father’s kingdom from your understanding. Your own father having no siblings of his own left you useless for there was no one to barter you off to. There was no gain from keeping you.

With you deep in your thoughts, you had not been aware that Taehyung had found himself before you. He watched you as you fiddled with your hands, eyes not focused on anything specific. Your mind somewhere far off.

“Care to share what’s on your mind?” He asked, pulling your thoughts back down to earth. You realized he liked to ask you about your thoughts on things and actually hear them. It was much different than the way many had treated you as you grew. You were so used to being a pawn that being treated like a human was refreshing. It was different, but nice.

“Why am I still here?” You asked voicing the very thing that plagued your thoughts, “Your father has nothing to gain from keeping me imprisoned.”

He hummed, “My father doesn’t share anything with me. If he does, he had made the decision long before telling me. He’s never trusted me with much more than simple duties. He thinks I’m troubled.”

“You seem far from troubled,” You responded, finally moving from your spot on the bench. You followed his voice.

Taehyung stood, leaning against the wall directly across from your cell. His arms were crossed across his chest. Normally, you would find the stance intimidating but the way his body was relaxed with no tension made you feel the opposite. A smirk formed on his lips as he let out a halfhearted scoff, “He just doesn’t like anyone who disagrees with his point of view.”

“Your father is warped,” You shook your head, “He would have gained much more from this if he had just sent you to court me. Alliances are worth far more than enemies.”

His eyes found yours at your words and you watched as emotions flickered through them before settling on anger, “My father doesn’t look for the most profit; he thrives in power. He takes joy in destroying cities and taking them as his own. Yes, it would have been smarter to align ourselves, but he would have drowned knowing he didn’t have full control.”

You watched as he shifted uncomfortably in front of you, running his hand through his hair. The conversation not being one he was enjoying, obviously.

Unsure on exactly why you felt the need to, you shifted the conversation, “What do you take joy in?”

“I enjoy going to theatre and viewing artwork,” He responded after pondering for a few moments of silence, “Actually, despite my father’s distain towards the bards, I also quite enjoy their music.”

Your mind wandered for a few moments at the idea that he enjoyed any form of art. It opened up a new layer to him you had barely had a grasp on before. Oddly, you felt elated at the tiny reveal.

“I used to like wandering the garden after raiding the library and finding a quiet place to read. My father didn’t let me leave the castle very often but sometimes he would take me to see a show. I also quite enjoy them.” You responded, a soft smile laying upon your lips at the memory.

Taehyung couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you babbled about what you liked. He also couldn’t help but mimic your small smile though his was more out of guilt than fondness. You seemed so full of life, the one thing he craved from others, and yet you were thrown behind bars to rot. It didn’t sit well with him.

Clearing his throat, he pushed off the wall to move closer to your cell, “Um, I actually bought you something. I figured you were getting tired of the same stuff they’ve been feeding you.”

You watched as he rummaged around in his pocket for a second before pulling out a small wrapped package. He then reached through the bars separating the two of you, placing the item in your hand. His hand barely grazed yours, but you could tell it was warmer than your own.

Curious, you unwrapped the paper surrounding whatever he had smuggled you. Your heart raced at the sight of it. It wasn’t something you normally would be ecstatic about the small piece of pastry in your hands said otherwise. You then took a bite, closing your eyes at the sweet taste and the rich flavor.

“Thank you,” You say softly once you finished chewing.

“It’s nothing,” He said, “I have to return, but I’ll be back. Keep your head up Y/N.”

He gave a small wave before disappearing. You let out a deep breath, eyes finding the pastry still in your hands. Even though he had been gone only moments, you already missed his company.

Trying to do the one thing Taehyung requested was probably one of the hardest thing’s you could have done, but you did it. The only thing keeping you head above water was his visits and the stories of life he brought back with him. It seemed silly but hearing about the minuscule drama that flowed through the halls of the castle gave you entertainment. It made you feel alive still.

From what he had told you, it had been about two months since the total takeover of your home and your very own imprisonment. He does his best to keep you in the loop considering losing track of time down in the dark and the musk was easy to do. You appreciated him for it.

You’ve grown fond of him and you could tell by the way the small smile that never seemed to leave your lips when he was around or the way your stomach twists in knots whenever he told stories he was fond of. But you were definitely certain you had because even when the two of you sat in silence, it was just as comfortable.

Even now, no words between the two of you were being shared but you were in no rush to break the silence. His presence was enough.

“You don’t deserve this,” He sighed from his seated position on the ground, obvious hurt in his voice.

You felt for him. He was a man who was taught right from wrong but forced to stand behind a man who lived for chaos. The same man that drove him to find solace in the dark of the dungeon and confide in you.

Even then, he didn’t say much. You just noticed he would come down bothered and watch to make sure the guards didn’t follow him. Once comfortable, he would fall into what you had come to find as his true self and a very kind man.

Ironic considering who his father was.

You sighed, “This isn’t on you.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad for it,” His response quick and slightly irritable.

You could tell he had worked himself up. His eyes locked on the ground and his leg bouncing endlessly to ease the tension through his body. The need to touch him to help calm him down shot through you but passed quickly when your brain deemed it impossible to accomplish. You settled by placing your hand on the metal in front of you, not comforting you or him in the process.

“Tae,” You breathe out, afraid to be any louder, “I’m still alive, therefore, I still have a chance to get out of here free.”

You spoke words that neither of you really had faith in. The odds of you walking out of the cell alive were slim, let alone alive and free. The fact you were even still breathing was a wonder in its own. Though he knew it wasn’t plausible, you still watched as his leg quit bouncing and his eyes broke from the dirt. He still opted to stay quiet.

“You deserve more,” You said filling the silence, “You’re a good man. I’d hate to see your father take that from you.”

You looked away from him decided to give him some privacy. It was odd; the way he got so worked up over the idea you were still behind the iron bars. The very bars under the touch of your fingers. Even abnormal as it was for his reaction to be the way it was, especially since your situation wasn’t a new one, he didn’t deserve to be ogled.

You felt warmth envelop the outer of your hand. The idea of pulling your own hand away flashed through your thoughts, but when your eyes met with another resting on the top of yours all feelings of that were lost.

Taehyung had moved closer, enough to where he could touch you. His thumb grazed your skin in a soothing movement, and you felt the tension you didn’t even know you had flee.

“I’m not sure how but,” He paused, and you surprised yourself with how fast your heart had begun to beat, “I’ll figure something out. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”

The warmth of his hand gone in seconds and part of you longed for it to return. Instead, you watched as he pulled himself off the ground. He didn’t need to announce he was leaving. You knew. He brushed his pants off once standing and you watched dust fly into the air in the minimal sunlight. He then started his way down the hall.

“Don’t do anything to get you hurt,” You pleaded loud enough for him to hear you. He paused his step and turned to look at you from the distance. It ironically reminded you of the time you asked for his name though this time the smirk didn’t grace his lips and his eyes didn’t light up in amusement. You felt as though your voice would fail you as you somehow managed to speak the last bit out, “Please.”

He nodded his head and disappeared. Part of you, if not all of you, had a hard time believing he wouldn’t.

Kim Taehyung wasn’t the one for business meetings. He had been through his fair share of them and they all were so boring and drawn out. He also wasn’t a fan of family dinners. There was too much baggage to weigh him down within one for him to enjoy it. And frankly, he wasn’t a fan of his father. So, when his own father had announced that he had invited important clients for dinner and he was expected to show, he was in no surprise very indifferent. Could anyone blame him? It was the trifecta from hell.

He had really planned on skipping out, but with his father specifically seeking him out and asking personally it meant business. No one, not even the kings son, would go against him; or could for that matter.

A light knock on his bedroom door echoed into his silent room.

“Yes?” Taehyung asked, his eyes flicking to the door that remained closed. He really would rather had not been bothered, but he couldn’t ignore it.

“Sir, your father wished for me to remind you to be in the dining room before the guests arrive.”

As he always did. His father didn’t think he could get dressed for the day let alone show up to a meeting on time. It was all for appearance. He wanted people to know he had an heir to his thrown. He wanted people to know that once he was gone, there would be another to stand in his place. His empire would still run strong.

“I’ll be there.” He called back to the staff, feeling bad for the poor woman.

Once he figured she had disappeared into the massive castle, he proceeded to fling his legs off his bed and go to his wardrobe. He dressed in his less formal clothes, but they were put together enough for his father not to feel like he was bringing shame to his name.

He then made his way out of his temporary sleeping quarters and turned down the corridor. He had gone a few doors down when one in particular caught his eye. He paused his step, looking at it. The door itself wasn’t the thing that caught his eye. Actually, it looked exactly the same as every other in the castle. The archway that framed the door was the reason he had stopped.

Taehyung moved in closer, seeing lines etched into the stone of the doorway. His hands reached out, touching the lines carved in deep enough he could feel every bump under his fingertips. A small smile formed on his lips when he realized they had to be height marks. He was under the impression that you were the only child, so he assumed it to be yours.

“Ah, Sir, there you are,” A voice said causing his eyes to drift away from the notches on the wall to the person in question, “I was just going to check on you.”

Taehyung cleared is throat and let his hand fall from the wall, “I was already on the way. Have they arrived?”

“No, but the king requested me to go fetch you.”

“Well, it’s only down the hallway,” Taehyung sighed, “Or does he have you escorting me there as well?”

The man took a step back and bowed, leaving him to find his own way.

The eating quarters only took moments to walk to and when he rounded into the room it was still empty except for the staff fluttering about making sure everything was ready for the arrivals. He sighed, fully taking in how long of a night it truly was going to be.

The guests arrived a while later, leaving both him and his father to greet them before all taking a seat at the table. He had taken in that the guests were royalty from a few kingdoms away which struck him confused because his father wasn’t one to be social to others. From what he gathered his name Prince Lee and he brought along his own son.

The dinner went as neatly as it could have. Barely anyone had talked, which wasn’t a surprise to him in the slightest. If they did speak, it was to address the staff. No one decided to speak until the short wait for the dessert.

“So, why did you ask us here?” The Prince inquired, causing Taehyung’s eyes to leave and look at the guests.

His father stared at them for a second eyeing the man before responding, “I am aware that your sister was the queen of this kingdom before her passing, am I correct?”

Taehyung felt his stomach drop. He hadn’t realized the royalty his father had invited was in fact royalty related to you. He glanced between the two men. Both were obviously overconfident and neither showed any emotion.

“Yes, you are,” the Prince said taking a drink from his glass and setting it back down, “But as you said, my sister has passed and long before you became in possession of his kingdom. So, why am I here?”

His father chuckled, “I have something you might want.”

Taehyung choked on his drink, which summoned a glare from the king next to him. He sent a small, closed mouth smile to his father in attempts to apologize, not that it would matter in the long run.

“And what might that be?” He asked, eyebrow pulled up as he questioned.

“You are aware they had a child,” the king hummed. Each passing moment made Taehyung want to leave the room, but he had to know how this would play out. He had to know if you would be safe, “I still have her if you were interested. Of course, there would be a price.”

The silence that fell over the table was deafening and Taehyung was afraid that they may hear his own heartbeat which had been pounding since the mention of you. He itched to fidget with something to ease his growing anxiety, but he couldn’t, so he kept glancing between the two.

“What makes you think we want her?” The other questioned.

“She is your kin, is she not?” His father responded causing Tae’s eyes to follow where the sound came from, “I thought I would show good faith and offer you her life. You should be honored I even thought to.”

“She would be dead if you didn’t think you would get something out of this exchange, so what were you thinking? Tell me, and I will deem whether it is worth it.”

The staff came into the room. The hands maneuvered around the room picking up dishes that were done, refilling drinks, and placing the dessert down onto the table. Tae’s eyes followed them around appreciating how it was so well choreographed. Each person moving in and out without interference from another. Normally, he wouldn’t have paid much attention, but he was looking for anything to distract him from the tension in the room.

“I was thinking of an alliance. I heard there were talks of conspiracy against me and my kingdoms. I would be a fool to ignore them. So, I offer you the girl for your arms if need be.” Taehyung’s father offered, his eyes scanning the man across the table.

The other laughed, “Maybe you are a fool if you were to believe my father would ever ally himself with someone of your nature. The girl may be royalty of our blood, but she isn’t worth the risk and embarrassment of being associated with you and your tyranny.”

Taehyung grew cold at your uncle’s response despite how much sweat he had been producing. Without a reason to keep you alive, you would be executed. Both himself and you knew that would be the case despite his denial. He had never felt more shame than in that moment. His own father was the reason you weren’t worth being saved. They had no idea who you were so none knew how worth it you truly were.

He’d risk it if it were him.

“It’s better to keep me on your side rather than not, though I see you made your decision,” The king warned causing Taehyung to cringe internally. Threats were all his dad was good at.

The man on the other side of the table rose, his eyes locking with the other’s, “We are more united than your makeshift kingdoms and unreliable loyalties. Know that if you try, we will take you down. My welcome has worn so I will take my leave.”

Both king and prince watched as the guest exited the dining hall. The silence within the room was eerily loud. Taehyung wouldn’t dare try to talk as all he would get in response was the anger buried deep within his father from a deal that fell through. Not only that, but he was afraid his own voice would give away how shaken he was from the encounter.

“A public execution seems fitting for a royal, don’t you think?” The King voiced to no one in particular. Taehyung swallowed hard at the image that flashed through his mind.

“Isn’t that a little drastic?” He asked, a risk in itself.

His father turned his head and locked eyes with him, “I refuse to let them make a mockery of my name. They will regret their decision.”

The King then stood, slamming his hands against the table. Taehyung flinched back at the action. He then watched as his father exited the hall, leaving him alone with the dining staff. All of them wearing the wide eyes as they too felt the fear he had.

He cleared his throat shaking all of them from their trance, “I am done. You may proceed.”

As he stood, the staff began to clear the dishes and clean the table. He barely noticed the routine they had placed amongst themselves this time. He was too distracted with the knowledge that you had just been officially given a death sentence.

If his father had done this closer to when he had forced himself into power, Taehyung wouldn’t have been so torn. Yet too much time had passed, and now he was drawn to you. He found himself wanting to spend his time with you, even if it was within the dungeons of the castle.

He wouldn’t be able to witness seeing you hanged.

The dungeon was quiet, as it has been for the past week. It was just you, the bars that held you within, and the drunkard that had been thrown within a cell a few down from you that didn’t know begging wouldn’t get him anywhere.

You hadn’t realized how reliant you had become to the Prince’s visits. It was lonely being there with nothing but your thoughts. You tried your hardest not to let them consume you because you’ve seen what isolation does to a solid mind.

Time seemed to still be a foreign concept to you. The only way of being able to tell was the small window that would fade from light, to dark, to back again. Though, when you looked out from it, you were able to see that your garden was indeed looking less vibrant than before. You assumed that autumn would be on its way soon.

The rickety bench laid beneath you, somehow still able to support your weight despite the use it had endured within the past few months. Your arm found rest laying across your eyes shielding the sun that peaked through the window. Your mind wandering to daydream about freedom. Something you knew would most likely always stay a dream.

The clearing of a voice broke through the silence, “Am I interrupting?”

Your mouth opened slightly at the familiar voice. You removed your arm from your eyes as you went to push yourself into the sitting position. There he stood on the other side of the bars. His hair was disheveled and hung into his eyes.

“Not much for you to interrupt, is there?” You respond, standing up and walking towards the metal. The closer you got, the easier it was to see that he seemed concerned behind all the fringe. Despite his obvious distress, he gave a weak side smile at your attempt at a joke. It fell almost instantly. You cocked your head to the side slightly, trying to meet his brown irises, “What’s wrong?”

He stayed silent at your question, his eyes finding the dirt floor below him. His weight shifted from foot to foot as he tried to process what was on his mind. You didn’t push him as you figured that he would end up letting what fogged his mind out into the open. He wouldn’t look so troubled if he didn’t plan on telling you.

Yet, there was no need to tell you. You already knew from his actions.

“There was a meeting a few nights ago,” He started, his eyes finally finding your own, “I was surprised he wanted me to attend. When I found out that it was a prince from a near kingdom it made more sense. He wanted to look the part of a great king. When he arrived, I come to find out that he was the brother to the queen, your mother. My father offered him a deal. Your life, for an alliance.”

You nodded, taking in the information. The corners of your eyes stinged as you held back tears, “And they didn’t take the deal.”

“No,” Taehyung swallowed hard, “My father plans on making an example out of you. He scheduled a public execution within the next few days. I- I don’t know what to do.”

A tear slipped down your cheek at your solidified fate, “Nothing, there isn’t anything you can do. This was always going to happen.”

It was your turn to find comfort looking at the dirt below as another tear slipped. You told yourself that you were never going to get out of this situation alive many times, but the reality was finally hitting. Your will seemed to dwindle within seconds as you watched the hope you shouldn’t have held onto get crushed under the news.

Taehyung reached through and grasped your hand, enveloping it within his own. He tried to sooth you the best he could with the barricade in the way. He would have brought you to his chest if he could have, but alas, it was impossible. It was almost painful to see you so distraught.

“I figured you’d want to hear it from me,” He said, the sadness in this voice evident.

You looked up at him. His eyes were red and glossy from him holding back his own tears, you could tell. You almost wanted to thank him for being so strong because you just couldn’t anymore. He pulled the hand he had within his own through the bars and up to his lips, placing them gently against your skin. If only you were able to relish in how they felt on you then on your own impending doom.

He pulled away, letting your hand go gently. You pulled it back to you and laced your fingers around the metal in front of you, “If only we had the chance to meet in different circumstances, Kim Taehyung.”

“I agree,” He voiced. He straightened his body and bowed to you, “Princess.”

Your heart ached and this time it wasn’t for your life, but for him. Your whole life, you knew that you were nothing but an asset in a bigger game. Men came from many kingdoms to be in your good graces, and your fathers, so the families could merge and become a greater force. You always knew that a prince would come and sweep you off your feet, even if it was just for their profit.

But this prince in front of you was nothing like the ones who always stared over your shoulder seeking your father’s approval. He yearned for the day to shed the foul taste his own father left in many’s mouths. He was thoughtful and understanding. He saw you as a person. That was something no one seemed to be able to do. Even now, with your dirty clothes and matted hair, he bowed to you as if you stood before him in a gown looking to be courted.

When he stood, he held a sad smile, “I have to make an appearance, or they’ll send out a witch hunt for me.”

“Do what you must,” You respond. He nodded and turned on his heels, “Thank you.”

His movements halted more a minute at your thanks before he then continued down the hall.

Taehyung couldn’t shake the sick feeling he had in his stomach as he stood behind his father in front of the towns people. It was only a few hundred, far less than home, but he assumed the night his father came parading into the town there were many casualties. They might have had more in number before then.

He was used to the dirty glares; He had gotten them since that night, not that it was new then either. The staff that hadn’t died in the attack continued to work within the walls for the new royals, though the stares and cold air were obvious. Yet, the look of the commoners faces as they waited for the king to speak in itself spoke wonders. None of them wanted to be there. None of them had respect for the new King.

Taehyung didn’t blame them one bit.

He shifted his view from his father slightly to the right. His eyes landed on the execution stage, causing his stomach to churn. It was simple, which was all it needed to be. The rope hung slightly too high for your small figure to reach, which he assumed why a step stool lay not too far off. A man stood there, dressed in black, readying himself for his job.

It didn’t take long for the King to grab the crowd’s attention, them fearing that if they weren’t their village would go right back up into flames, “We are here for the execution of the only blood left to from the king before me.”

As he said that, you were dragged onto the scene. It was almost a mockery as they cleaned and dressed you up as if you didn’t just spend months within the confines of a cell. Your hands were bound, making it easier for the guard to drag you around. They also gagged you, so you weren’t able to speak. Taehyung assumed it was so that your words couldn’t influence the town into a revolution, and so no one could hear you scream.

The crowd itself seemed shocked; most probably assuming that you had already perished with the first attack. They didn’t know about your blood-soaked gown or the will you used to even survive that night.

The walk to the execution stage seemed to take so much longer than it should have. Taehyung could have blamed it on you struggling within the guards arms, but really, he knew the real reason was the anxiety of what he was about to witness.

He wondered if this was what the people who had loved ones on death row felt as they were forced to watch them hang.

But then, you were on the stage standing under the rope. The struggling had stopped. If there were a chance for you to escape your fate, it would have happened before then. You scanned over the crowd, exceedingly calm for what was about to happen.

Taehyung could hear his heartbeat in his ears as your eyes found his and stayed on him. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going through your mind at the moment. He couldn’t even properly filter through his own thoughts; he couldn’t imagine yours.

The executioner then placed the bag over your head, cutting your eye contact off and shielding the onlookers from the gore that was about to occur. Then, the rope was placed around your neck and tightened. Then he left you there, alone, as he went to stand by the lever and awaited his orders

Taehyung’s mouth went dry as his father demanded the attention of the audience once again, “Your kingdom was a disgrace when I came. It didn’t take me but moments to take over and make it my own. We are cleansing the kingdom with this execution. With my actions, we will rise to become untied and undefeatable. It’s time we-“

The King’s words fell off as he coughed, blood splattering onto the ground. The crowd erupted into a murmurs and screams as the sword that punctured through the king’s chest was withdrawn, leaving him without support. He fell to his knees holding the wound that was now profusely oozing blood.

Taehyung stood, sword still in hand. The blade itself was drenched with the blood of his father. The guards that surrounded them drew their own weapons, pointing them at him. He kept his composure, though honestly he felt anything but that. The sound of his father hitting the floor echoed in the silence.

“Stand down.” He voiced outload to the guards. It came out far more steady than he thought would have, but he wasn’t complaining.

He watched as the men debated doing as he demanded, though the shallow breathing of his father seemed to be proof enough for them to still stand strong. His eyes risked a look down at the dying man. The pool of blood under him continued to grow beneath him, staining the wood he laid on. Then, his chest seemed to have stilled.

Taehyung always knew his father would parish from the hands of someone he had wronged, because frankly, he was a horrible man. Yet, Taehyung didn’t know he was going to be the one to perform the fatal blow. It didn’t surprise him that he felt no remorse.

“I said stand down,” Taehyung said, more power within his voice, “As King, I demand you to stand down.”

The guards still seemed hesitant, but one by one they sheathed their swords. Taehyung followed suit, placing his own bloodstained weapon back in it’s cover. He glanced once more at his father’s corpse before turning to it. He pushed the body with his foot as if to double check that he was in fact dead. He then refocused his attention on what was important.

He jumped off the platform and hurried his way over to the execution stage. He waved off the executioner from the lever, making sure there could be no mistake.

He sighed to himself at the image in front of him. He had watched quite a few executions in his time, having the father he had, but they all were faceless. He didn’t know them, but he knew you.

He reached out and pulled the knotted rope from around you neck, freeing you from death’s possible grasp. Once freed, the rope swung freely though it would soon still once more. The bag thrown over your head was next, giving you back your sight once more.

Light flooded into your vision, confusing you. Your eyes adjusted slowly, and they found the familiar eyes you had come accustomed to seeing while you were imprisoned, though this time there were no bars obscuring his face. He was just as handsome as the last time you saw him, maybe even more now that both of you were out of the dimly lit dungeon.

He reached around you, untying the knot that tied the gag. You looked at him, “What did you do Taehyung?”

His eyes hardened a little at your whispered question as he moved to work on the ties on your wrists, “Nothing that wasn’t going to happen anyway.”

Your eyes then focused on the body lying in the distance and you sighed. Of course.

Once your hands were free from the restraints, he moved back within your line of sight. He only spared a second of a warm glance before addressing the crowd, “You were brought here under the assumption that there will be an execution today. I’m sorry that the plans had changed. The princess is not sentenced to death anymore. Please return to your normal routines.

As much as he sounded like a true leader, he looked nervous and shaken. With your now free limbs, you shuffled over toward him taking the chance to lace your hand within his in attempt to lend him strength and comfort.

He looked over at you, eyes once again softened. A soft squeeze of your hand telling you that you had made the right decision.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, appreciating the dress you were wearing. You never thought you would miss the process of getting dressed up in extravagant dresses to socialize with other royals. After being a prisoner for months with nothing but one change of clothes the whole time, you didn’t necessarily mind now.

To be honest, you thought you were dead. It wasn’t hard to deny the awful truth when the days behind the bars turned into months. What solidified it was when the bag was placed over your own head and the noose tightened around your neck. It was hard to deny anything at that point. You were going to die.

But nothing came despite the obscured vision and the rough twine rubbing against you.

Your savior being none other than the man you had found comfort in for months. Meeting his eyes comforted you yet again despite all your confusion.

You never thought that he would have taken his own father’s life just to save your own. He literally risked everything to save you, even his own life. You owed him far more than you ever think you could return since everything you owned in your life already belonged to him.

He still was king.

A knock echoed into your room, breaking the comfortable silence. You peered over at the door as it creaked open only to close after the new presence was within the walls.

The man leaned against the wall taking in the view, causing you to feel as though you needed to hide from embarrassment. A boxy smile crossed his face at your reaction. Trying to ignore him, you returned to your reflection making sure everything was in place.

“Why haven’t you gone down to the event?” You asked, taking a peek at him from the corner of your eye.

Taehyung let out a small chuckle at the idea you proposed at him, “A King shouldn’t ever enter an event without his Queen by his side.”

A small smile crossed your lips as you turned and walked towards him. He excepted you as your wrapped your arm around his own. He leaned over placing a gentle kiss upon your head before he escorted you out of the room and down to the hall.

-   -   -

Thanks to @ggukkieland for giving me support this whole time! Here’s your tag love!

-   -   -

[realcube]

yachi + degradation 😈

navi | masterlist | taglist 

thank you to anon for this request <3

summary: yachi catches you masturbating and this gives her something to prove - that she can make you feel better than you ever could on your own 

content warning:vagina-having! reader, dom!yachi, masturbation, mommy kink degradation, strap-on, overstimulation, orgasm denial, arguably ooc - aged up!

During the whole three years you and Yachi have been together, you’ve only had intercourse four times: once on Yachi’s birthday, on your birthday, valentine’s day and that one time you had both finished reading a rather erotic work of fiction. 

So since your sex life was less than active, you can only imagine how needy, desperate and wild your cunt must’ve felt after accidentally following a few too many links and ending up on the hub. 

Of course, there was only one way to soothe the intense ache between your legs and that was by rummaging through your bedside drawer, passed all the abandoned paperwork to grab the neglected, hot pink strap-on which was buried underneath and pounding it in your pussy with your own hand, using it more like a dildo.

You sat on Yachi’s shared queen-sized bed - under the impression she was coming at the usual hour of 6 o’clock - with a towel tucked underneath you and your head tossed back in bliss, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to absorb every little ounce of pleasure that the strap provided, which wasn’t nearly enough to fully satisfy you.

However, what you forgot to take into consideration was that today was a Friday, meaning Yachi got off work early, hence when she arrived at the apartment and entered her room, she was greeted by the glorious sight of you completely nude on the bed, legs spread to vigorously pound into yourself with the strap in one hand, using the other to massage your breast.

Yachi could have stood there, staring at you for ages and you would’ve even noticed but what did catch your attention was when she instinctively dropped her purse, the thud causing you to instantly snap your head over to look at her. All the colour draining from your face as you met her gaze. 

Her face had changed to adopt a new colour - red - as she stared wide-eyed at you sweaty, frail body that lay sprawled out across her bed, your soaking cunt left open and vulnerable to her touch. 

Something about seeing you in such a state was enough to evoke a certain feeling in yachi that she’ d never experienced before, at least not in regards to her sex life. Dominance.  

There was no exact way she could put her explanation into words but if she had to try: it was as though all her stress, anxiety and frustrations from work had been building up inside her and now that she had laid eyes on you sitting defenceless and submissive on her bed, she was ready to erupt.

Before you got the chance to even attempt to choke out an apology, Yachi stalked over to you, her oddly calm aura sending a shiver down your spine. Once she arrived by your side of the bed, she halted by your spread legs and casually slipped her blazer off while gesturing to take the strap from your trembling hands.

“May I?” Her voice didn’t exactly sound sinister, more neutral. However, that was enough to frighten you to your core as this was Yachi we’re talking about; you genuinely expected her to faint when she first saw you in this position. Yet she somehow made her way over to you and was now offering to hold the strap to do god-knows what with it, all while remaining composed.

Once you let go and she was now in full control of the dildo, her lips curled into a smile and before you got the opportunity to question it, she rammed the plastic back into your cunt with frightening speed, resulting in a moan escaping your lips which only fuelled Yachi further.

After a few more thrusts, your arms shakily made their way over to take the plastic from her possession - she was too powerful with it - but she yanked it away at the last second, “No, it’s fine. Let me take care of you; sit back, relax. You clearly must’ve thought this piece of plastic could pleasure you more than I could but we’ll see about that.” She hummed, her glare flickering between you and the hot pink dildo in her hands.

Due to her timid personality, it should come as no surprise that every time y’all got intimate, Yachi was always on the receiving end of the wrath of your strap so now that she was stepping up into dominance so suddenly, you didn’t dare to reply.

She was pleased at how quickly you succumbed to submission for her, rewarding you with a little kiss on the forehead before stepping aside to strip into nothing besides her undergarments. Then, she unhurriedly put on the strap around her hips, basking in the sweet little needy whimpers that fell from your lips as you tried your hardest not to touch yourself.

Not a second was wasted between her aligning the strap by your cunt and bucking her hips back and forth, absolutely mesmerised by the way your walls greedily enveloped the whole dildo until there was hardly any pink left in sight.

It wasn’t Yachi intention to give you a moment to accommodate to the straps’ large size, but that’s what she ended up doing as she sat frozen between your legs, eyes flickering between your lewd facial expression and your cunt stretching around the plastic.

Almost a minute had passed and Yachi hadn’t moved an inch, leaving you incredibly needy for stimulation so you found yourself involuntarily jutting your hips against the dildo for the slightest sense of relief - but of course, it was short-lived as Yachi almost immediately snapped out of her trance to grab your waist and hold you in place.

“Don't move. Don’t pretend like you can get off on your own.” she murmured, slowly shifting her hands under your thighs to part your legs further to the point were your hamstrings were burning. 

Slowly but surely, she began rocking her hips back and forth, focussing on keeping her pace consistent rather than speedy while also searching your insides for the sweet spot she was sure to exploit later. 

Although she wasn’t the fastest, the feeling of the dildo’s length rocking against your desperate core along with Yachi’s oddly expert finger movements against your clit was enough to make you whine and plead for more. 

“Yach- Yachi~” you moaned, gripping the bedsheets to cope with the aching in your thighs and the intense amount of pleasure Yachi sent pulsating through you. “Mor--”

You were cut off by Yachi sticking the two fingers, that had previously been working on your clit, straight into your mouth. Obediently, you silenced yourself to instead graciously accept her fingers while she continued to furiously pound into you. 

The last time you had anything close to sexual pleasure in the last 3 months was when you opened a low cabinet and the door swung open and hit your sex, so it shouldn’t be surprising that even with Yachi’s excruciatingly slow pace, you were about to orgasm within barely a minute of her entering you. 

That is, if she let you. 

Once she noticed your breathing become increasingly frantic and your thighs twitching, she realised that you were rapidly approaching your high so she did what any sweet girlfriend would do - she pulled out. 

Your grip on the duvet loosened as your lids fluttered open to reveal your eyes, glossy with tears as you stared innocently up at Yachi - unable to talk due to her finger still in mouth but attempting to communicate how much you need her with your eyes. Even your legs began to oppose her grip so you could use the friction from your thighs to maintain the pleasure slightly. 

Once Yachi noticed your pleading gaze, she simply scoffed, “You thought you could satisfy yourself without me. I’m gonna remind you of how much you truly need me.” Her voice was smooth and honeyed like the most romantic of poets, but the threatening tone in her voice made you shudder - more than you already were.

And she was right. After bringing you to the edge of your high, she’d pull out to leave you begging underneath her - and she’d do this every single time, by now you had lost count as to how many times. 

it worked, though. By perhaps your 5th ruined orgasms, the only thing on your mind was Yachi; she was the one who brought you to your climax so she was the only one who could help you reach it. From the way she’d bob her fingers in your mouth to how her hand was able to leave red marks on the side of your thigh - everything about the way she was in bed as so unlike her yet so hot.

After god-knows how long of being her little, devoted slut, you were finally breath a sigh of relief as the follow chain of words fell from her lips once she noticed you were approaching another orgasm:

“Go on; cum. But you better make it loud for me.”

[zirkkun]

just before.

just before. (Undertale fanfic - based off of Wickedtale by @alch3mic​ - rated M by AO3 standards.)

+ soldier!sans x dancer!reader (they/them prns)

+ 4456 words, english

+ prologue to soldier’s story. first time he ever meets dancer.

+ cw: mentions of murder, classism, yandere/obsessive personality, abusive/controlling parents

+ “he hadn't heard that phrase in years. so constantly aware of the corruption plaguing the world... well, as it seemed, there was still one highlight to live to protect.”

+ AO3 link

Ebott City. The corrupted hell hole that was somehow above ground, while the actual hole the "monsters" came from had been far more palatable. At least, in one case. Many didn't have the same experience he did, but… whatever. That didn't really matter. He didn't really care about it anymore. Why dwell on the past? There's too much shit going on in the present to even have time for something like that.

Day-to-day life was flooded: constantly moving, constantly working, never slowing, never stopping. There's no time for that. The day he gets time to take off and sleep, get whatever medication he's sure he needs for his horrifically weak non-stomach, and lead a healthy and safe lifestyle while retaining his wealth? Ha. In dreams, maybe. This city wasn't kind enough for that. Though, maybe if his ambitions weren't so specific, he wouldn't have fallen into this path of endless work… but it's a little late for that.

His brother had made use of their skills the two of them had attained growing up, and with that opened a dance studio where others of all sorts could come through and learn how to dance. A small corner of peace in this awful world, that little building, where monsters and humans could both dance without feud, where rich and poor could both talk without judgement. Maybe it was ironic, maybe it was fate, or maybe it was straight coincidence that his brother had named the place "Enchanted Dancing." He knew that the name was merely in reference to the magic of their home where everyone had their own sort of dances they practiced, which they all soon found was very different from most other monsters who had battle magic specialties. But even still… heh, ah, it just further proved his point. The only decent place in the world was the Underground, before they ever surfaced.

A beep. 6:00 P.M. Work.

Or, rather, his second line of work.

While he'd abandoned his dance skills long ago, he never really fully disconnected with music as a whole. It's not like he really could when he doesn't have anything else to his life or history -- he doesn't know anything else. So, he made it a pastime to make his own musical works, trying to sell them online for money, but quickly found it's not exactly easy for people to find your work… let alone get them to pay for it when they do. He had run low on money fast -- so fast that he needed something quick and easy that he could do to not end up on the curb in a weeks' time.

He doesn't remember how he heard about it, or really what possessed him to go along with it anyway; but somewhere along the line, he'd caught word of some pretentious wealthy human furiously rattling off how their reputation would be "demolished" if the rumor that had begun about their business didn't come to a halt. How they would pay "insane amounts of money" to have that rumor "eradicated." You know, without really doing any work themself, or trying to better the work that they were doing, or fixing the root of their problem to begin with… Yes, because throwing money at the problem until it's pushed onto someone else is the better solution.

And yet… when someone comes up to you in your hour of despair, presenting to you an arguably invisible layer of protection in this world of work or die, something to get you out of the dark and stop the ticking clock of your otherwise inevitable doom…

It's not like he was going to turn down the offer.

He'd forged some sort of alias -- whatever it was at the time no longer mattered, since he'd had many over the half year or so he's been doing this -- and scribbled out a note of sorts explaining what was, at the time, a feigned, short "resume" for work as an information broker. The note was left with the pretentious prick, who did, in fact, end up contacting him in the end, offering more money than he thought he'd ever see in his waking life. Needless to say, he took the job… and found the issue to be so incredibly simple to resolve that even a child could have done it.

Well, no.

A child would have had more sense of morality.

... probably.

Who was he kidding here, honestly? He complains about the rich on a regular basis, their foolish waste of money, their apathy towards those that didn't have any money, just pure care for only money.

But here he was.

Morality erased.

Lives ruined.

Bank account overflowing.

Doing the same things they were doing.

The very least he could do -- and the very least he does do -- is support those whose music he'd wanted to support while he was on the edge of homelessness. Even some of his online friends, music composition friends, were consistently met with the cash they needed in a moment's notice. "Where did you even get this kind of money?" they would ask him. He would just jokingly say that an old witch blessed him with unending wealth, or something else to that extent of unbelievable ridiculousness.

But, unfortunately, not all of his money could go towards such good causes. While he did have far beyond the money to sustain multiple dozen families, at least a third of it was thrown right back into the exchange as he paid person after person for job after job he was unwilling to do.

There was no blood on his hands. No dust caked into his bones.

But it was splattered all over the money he handed out like trick-or-treat candy.

He'd met two others, notably, that did a lot of work alongside him. A crafty cat and a wily wolf… figuratively, of course. The three of them sharing the same first name, they merely tossed nicknames at each other. More often than he probably realized, they took much of his budget for work he was far too lazy to bother with. You know, scouring the dark web for information, stalking people to track their pathing… the occasional hit here and there. Sometimes, he would do it himself, but only if he really felt up to it… and frankly, he was never in the mood for murder. But that damn wolf was shockingly willing -- for the right paycheck.

He did recognize, however, the two of them did seem to have a mutual similarity that he, personally, did not share.

… he did not have anyone close to him. He didn't have anyone who looked after him, cared for him. It didn't bother him until recently, when apparently that damn wolf managed to lock the object of his affection into a relationship. Even the cat seemed bitter when he heard the news. Someone so fucked as him still manages to find someone?

… the world was just trying with his emotions at this point. Taunting happiness at the end of a pole taped to the back of his head, leaving it just out of reach, but always in his way and always in his line of sight.

Of course, he had his brother…

... who he doesn't talk to for weeks at a time…

... and he keeps turning down his offers to meet up again…

… yes, he had his brother. A strong emphasis on the "had."

He was alone. He knew that. But, at least for the case of his brother, he'd done it on purpose.

The last thing he wants is to have his brother, someone so passionate and pure, hands still clearly clean of sin; find out he has the richest humans of the city wrapped around his fingers out of both fear and dependability.

So, frankly, sometimes he found himself jealous of the other two. The other two who had someone to care for them.

He supposed the trio of them could sort of be friends…

He'd met the wolf a few times in person, both intentionally and not.

He'd bumped into the cat, wasted in a bar, more than once.

… No, they really weren't his friends. Co-workers is the best way he could probably describe them.

Yes, he was just jealous of them.

He was alone.

…

… Well, work isn't going to start itself. He pulled his phone back up to his face, clicking it on to see how long he'd zoned out for. 6:03 P.M. Not too terrible. He slammed shut his laptop, pushing back from his chair as he went to put on the outfit that had practically become his "uniform" at this point. A dark under layer of tight leggings and a fitted long-sleeve athletic tee with a zip-up turtleneck; a desaturated over layer of a baggy, now sleeveless hoodie and equally as baggy gym shorts. And, of course, a hat, as usual… but he wore those no matter the time of day.

His apartment door clicked shut behind him as he left, and once the door was locked, he evaporated into thin air.

-- only to appear, moments later, in front of one of the most lavish mansions in the richest part of Ebott City. It was so bleeding with "I'm such a rich, extra asshole" energy that it made his Soul twist with disgust. The walls were marble, shimmering from small lights below them to show off their sparkling, smooth surface. Each edge of the building was lined with gold-plated metal, even the rails to the stairway. Arching windows stood on either side of the front door, which was probably big enough for an average sized elephant to fit into with some extra ear room to boot.

Thank the stars he didn't have to go inside again. He already knew what his job was for the night, and to be back inside that disgustingly overdone building these pretentious humans called "home"... Just thinking about it made him feel beyond insulted.

He took another shortcut -- this time, finding himself on the rooftop. Although the sun had not yet fully set, even so, it was still much darker here than standing in front of the artificially-lit trophy they called a front entrance. He popped open his phone again. 6:05 P.M.

Unlocking it completely, he pulled up a message from the cat he'd gotten this morning.

morning soldier~ i managed to get done what you needed me to for today last night. which, you owe me BIG-TIME for, mister.

i was up until 4 am doing this!!

Soldier checked the timestamp. Yesterday, 11:34 P.M. Does that cat think he's an idiot? Whatever, it's not like this was the important part of the message. But, if anything, he's getting docked pay for really bad lying. It's not like the guy needs more alcohol money, anyway.

here's a list compiled of all the parties in ebott tonight. i only looked for ones starting after 6 pm like you asked, but there was still far too many… the list is very long (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

[file download link]

i hope you're happy!!! cause im not looking any more than that!!!!! ☆⌒(> _ <)

He downloaded the file to his phone, browsing through it to see what parties had been collected into the spreadsheet. He only could assume that's what was bringing them out, at the very least.

Oh, yes, his job for the evening. That's integral information, I suppose.

The mansion whose roof he sat upon currently was owned by a human family with the surname King. They had twelve children, all adopted, but were all also kept on very rigorous and strict schedules. The eldest of the children very recently had been caught sneaking out of the house every evening by one of their siblings, and sleeping noticeably late in the morning, their final semester of university was suffering from this all as they refused to finish their thesis. So, naturally as it is for all the rich, they threw their money at the problem hoping that would fix it.

Today's "that" was the skeleton monster sitting on their roof, waiting to see when someone would eventually leave the house.

With a hefty sum of money, upfront payment, as usual; Soldier was told to follow their child for three nights, and to report back after that time with what they had been up to. Seemed easy enough. Of all the jobs he'd gotten, tailing someone for a few days and tracking their every move was probably the easiest he's ever had the misfortune of doing.

He continued to scroll through the list. He had been given absolutely nothing to work with from the Kigngs as to where their kid was headed or when they tended to leave the house, or any information of actual use; so he was going into the job without a clue as to what he was really looking for. It was probably the most difficult aspect of the job -- hence why he outsourced the bulk of it. As for the "where," parties seemed like a reasonable assumption to make for a human college student. That's a rather common stereotype of sorts, college students getting drunk at party after party, is it not? Better than nothing, he supposed. Nothing else really came to mind anyway, but that doesn't mean there wasn't another option. Even still, it's a better start than nothing.

Now he had to just wait for the "when." He had the list in front of him, hoping he could deduce when the human would leave their house… but the more he read it over, the more bored he got. Guess the cat wasted his time. Oh well. That's not Soldier's problem.

Just as he locked his screen shut, planning to come down from the roof and investigate any exits that might be hidden to most of the house, he heard an absurdly loud sound he initially thought was a gunshot, followed by a raspy huff of various curses. Peering over the edge of the rooftop, after shortcutting there silently to avoid making attention towards himself; he noticed there was, in fact, no gunshot, but rather, an awfully messy and junky trap door of sorts, seemingly made of plywood. A human, who he assumed was the one who swore earlier, grabbed a bush that had been sitting next to it, picking it up like it was nothing and placing it over the door. It was in line with several other, similar bushes. The human dusted off their hands before walking, keeping a close eye on the mansion walls to their side.

Well, looks like he's found who he's supposed to tail.

He kept watch over them for as long as his eyes could follow, and then, the moment they left his vision, he shortcutted to where they had been moments ago, though slightly distanced as to be hidden nearby; and simply repeated the process. Soldier knew this part of the city better than the back of his hand, so he knew where he was at all times, as well, making shortcutting silently even easier.

… However, what he didn't understand was where the hell this human was headed. A few times he tried clicking on his phone, scrolling through the list again, but they weren't headed in any direction towards any party. And even when they started heading in the direction of one… they would end up taking a "wrong" turn and dodging it completely.

…

… this was taking a really long time…

It's… almost been an hour by now. Soldier's starting to recognize this area a little less. He knew the map layout, but not all of the details about where they were or what was distinctly different about each street. They were outside of the rich part of town, but not quite in the poorer side that he was used to, either. If he was remembering correctly, this was in the direction of downtown. Unless this human's planning on breaking into some probably-already-crashed college dorm party for the night, they definitely weren't planning to party at all. Okay, well, that throws that plan out the window.

But now he had no idea what to expect. Were they banned from getting help, so they're actively seeking it out? Unlikely. Were they secretly addicted to drugs? Unless it was alcohol, getting away with drug smuggling in downtown was a horrific, nearly impossible idea. Did they have a significant other that their family wouldn't let them see? Well… he had no idea. Thoughts and questions and possibilities kept cycling in and out, but he never lost sight of where they were going.

And, sure enough, the bright downtown lights descended upon them as they started making their way across the long bridge leading to the most eventful point of the city. Due to the sheer length of the bridge, and the fact that Soldier was not as well-versed in the map of the downtown Ebott area… he resorted to traditional stalking, mimicking their every step as casually and nonchalantly as possible, as though to avoid being spotted.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. One new message.

weeeeell? was my work useful? >:3c

He merely huffed half a laugh before typing out his response.

i didnt use it at all

what?! Σ(･口･) soldier, i went through all that hard work, and you didn't even LOOK at it???

i looked at it

i didnt use it

...you're at least still paying me, right?

no

you are the WORST 凸(｀△´＋）

i'm never doing anything for you again >:(

you dont need the alcohol money anyway

But the cat never responded to that one. Well, Soldier's never been the best at landing most jokes, despite his tendency to make them. Clearly sarcasm wasn't his strong point either. Whatever. He'd pay him later.

He put his phone back in his pocket, putting his attention back to his job as the bridge finally began to end. If the human was suspicious of his following them, they showed no signs of it. Good. Frankly, being silent by stalking someone in this manner isn't his strong suit. He had assumed they would have stayed nearby… not gone to the other side of the city.

The sun had set, but even still, downtown was overwhelmed with artificial lighting, and frankly, it was already giving Soldier a headache and he hadn't even been here for more than 10 minutes. Curse his ridiculously weak and sensitive body.

The human kept walking along, though their pace was beginning to hasten as they flickered their gaze between stepping and a phone screen. Naturally, he also quickened his footing, although unsure as to why. Maybe they were running late for something?

They took a sharp left into a shady alleyway; Soldier shortcut to its entrance, spotting them sprinting down it as fast as they could before eventually climbing up a wooden fence at the end, reaching its peak and jumping over it with ease. Like they'd done this many times before. Soldier, confused, checked the name of the buildings on either side of the alleyway… but neither were significant. One was even an apartment building of sorts, but it looked abandoned at best. Well, might as well continue.

Reaching the end of the alley and pushing himself over the fence with magic to avoid making as much sound as possible, Soldier's feet landed on the concrete of the other side. It was surprisingly… clean. As if someone kept it nice regularly. He went to take a step forward when he heard chattering, and instead, tucked himself behind the smallest edge of the nearby wall, barely peering over its edge to see the rest of the area.

It was like a very small park. Perhaps a courtyard? But it was too barren for that. Well, all except the trees. There were four skinny trunks sprouted from the ground, all of different kinds, and probably no more than two and a half meters tall. Around them was a square-shaped sidewalk of the same concrete he was standing on.

But, at that center of the trees, were two humans, not one. He recognized the one he'd been following up until this point -- vaguely, and mostly just from the color of their clothing -- but the other was new.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I was held up worrying I was going to get caught…" the human he'd followed spoke. "My dad apparently hired someone to follow me for a few days. One of my sisters told me… she apparently ratted me out -- she was forced to -- and now my dad's on a manhunt to find out what I'm doing."

"Yikes," the other person responded. They had a higher pitched voice, but a lower tone of interest. "Sorry to hear about it. You didn't need to come racing here to tell me that, you know. You could have stayed home and texted me to move the lesson."

Lesson?

"No, it's fine. I came because I wanted to. It probably would have been better if I waited… but I was too excited about tonight," the human explained. "It's the first time we're practicing the whole dance routine straight through. I've been practicing on my own some other nights, too."

… dance routine?

The other human let go of a heavy laugh. "You've really been practicing for two weeks straight with no other dance party breaks?"

"I said on some other nights!"

The both of them laughed.

But Soldier was stuck on "dance routine."

A phrase he typically only heard from his brother anymore, and he barely talked to him as is.

A phrase he'd never said himself in… so long.

An act he hasn't tried since they were still trapped Underground…

An act that, even back then, he'd sworn off doing after so many years of it.

It's like he'd been punched directly in the Soul. Possibly even with a knife.

"Well, are you ready to start, then?"

Soldier's attention peered back to the two humans.

"Yup, whenever you are!"

There was a brief period of silence.

Then the music started. He didn't recognize it at first…

But the realization that it was his own piece hit him in the face like a truck. Some sort of shivering heat rushed through his body. … embarrassment? ...maybe? He… wasn't sure.

But even still…

He soon became entranced by their dancing.

Only the human he had been following was dancing the routine. Every step timed perfectly to every beat and measure… so meticulously performed with such dedication. But then, some old part of him started to creep back from where it had been shoved away, as he started judging the technique of their every move. Sure, they had a… beautiful dedication to every step they took… but much of it was wrong. Though, they were not missteps. Everything planned was executed with confident perfection. The moves themselves were wrong. Some of them didn't match the tone of the piece at all, and it was clear that they were self-taught, just based on how they were moving in between each one. He wasn't mad, no… no, rather… he was utterly fascinated.

Soldier stood and watched the whole routine, start to finish. Though, he couldn't help but have a yelp from his own Soul every time they did something his own memory was screeching to be incorrect. It was yelping because… he wanted to correct them. He wanted to walk up to them, tell them what was wrong with their choices, and point them in the right direction. He wanted to… take them by the hand, directing their movements through his, teaching them how to dance the way he was taught. He… couldn't stop staring…

A scream. Soldier shortcut in a panic. He was now on the opposite side of the wooden fence, back in they alleyway.

"What, what is it?" The voice of the second human.

"I… I thought I saw someone." A breathy, horrified tone from the dancer. "I thought someone was watching me but… th-then I blinked and… they were gone."

The second human huffed angrily. "You haven't been getting proper sleep lately, have you? Maybe you should go home and rest."

Still breathing heavily, the dancer hummed a sound of malcontent. "I… Can I finish the routine first?"

"Really, now…" But with a sigh, the second human allowed them to start again from the beginning.

Meanwhile, Soldier…

He was doing his best not to scream on his own. So many emotions overwhelmed him entirely. Most of which he could not identify. But one thing would not stop looping in his mind. One thing other than a raging beat echoing in his skull from the sound of his own Soul racing, that was. In fact, that only heightened.

The thought of taking their hand. Teaching them to dance.

The overwhelming feeling of hearing someone else not just listening to his work… but expanding upon it. Being able to express themself through it. Being able to see themself through him.

The raging passion burning deep inside of him, regretting his forgone dancing career. It ate at his Soul, bit by bit. Begging his laziness to cave for them and them alone.

The fact that all of these thoughts happened in the very same millisecond that he made eye contact with them… he felt unexplainably and weirdly hot.

That eye contact. Their eyes, their face. They were almost as beautiful as the dances they performed… no… perhaps even more so.

Another loud beat echoed in his skull. The song was reaching its end. He knew he needed to start going home before he was caught.

But part of him wanted to be caught.

Part of him wanted to catch them.

… And all of him wanted to see them dancing… just one more time. Once more, that's all he asks.

Just one more time.

Maybe… maybe that will suffice.

Maybe that will drive away the fortissimo thoughts clouding his sense of reality. Maybe he'll be able to go back to…

A thought. A separate one, remembered from earlier this same evening.

"Alone."

He was… alone.

…

Did he really want to go down the same paths as…?

No, not really.

But it seemed his Soul was not giving him much other option. The mere thought of never being able to label himself as lonely… and if it was because of someone as beautiful as them…

Well. He already was a hypocrite, chanting against a society he partook in regularly. What other damage could be done by reaffirming what he already knew?

Besides. His Soul was desperate.

He wanted that dancer for his own.

No… no, this was most certainly a need.

[patchun]

KIRBY STAR ALLIES: UNNECESSARILY DETAILED DEFINITIVE ARENA VIABILITY TIER LIST

After reading the title you may have a few questions. The first of which may be: why should I care what you think? Haha, well, reader who has likely never even played this game...

I have invested just a little bit of time into this game. More, lately, as I recently spent about 30 hours playing this game to decide once and for all who the strongest and weakest characters are. Now, you say, patchun... you invested 30 hours into a game that's like four years old, wasn't that well reviewed, and has completely faded from relevance... all so you could make a tier list no one will care about? And I tell you. Yes. Yes I fucking did. With that out of the way, let's dive in.

The criterion I used to determine viability were damage output, safety, and versatility. Some characters, when played skillfully, can have crazy unexpected DPS. Some characters have fantastic air dodges or blocks that drastically increase their safety. Some characters absolutely destroy Whispy Woods, but then struggle against literally anyone else. All of this has been taken into account to make the following tier list.

Before we start I want to make a few notes: if playing with friends, a few positions change. When playing with friends, Rock, Gooey, and Painter move up to SSS tier. Painting rocks is legit one of the most fun and strongest ways to clear the true arena. Also, Meta Knight, when playing with friends, is in S tier. He has some very high damage output if he is safe, but can struggle to stay safe. I will be using the terms "decent, good, great, and insane" very deliberately.

In order of goodness in all rows.

F Tier:

Those in F tier have pretty much nothing going for them.

Suplex is weak and constantly makes itself vulnerable.

Kirby is arguably the most skillful character in the game, but has decent damage when played well.

Fighter just has no good moves, its kit is a weak disaster.

Painter is slow and the minions it creates are weak and not versatile. Statue (down up B) is its best move by far, but the slow startup and inability to move during really hinders the move.

Bird has great mobility and lots of i-frames, but super low damage. I-frames don't matter when you're fighting the bosses for hours.

ESP, in order to do any good damage whatsoever, needs to charge it's ball of energy to max, and then manage to hit the enemy without touching anything else first. If you can do that, it's solid. But it's pretty rare that you can do that, and you're very vulnerable while charging.

Chef honestly should have gone at the top of F tier. It's dash midair B is strong and so is its spatula, though a bit boring. However, Chef has a large hurtbox and you can't play as Kirby instead.

D Tier:

D Tier clears are manageable but require almost perfect play. These characters have something going for them, but it usually isn't much and they're heavily outclassed in some way by other characters.

Beam is strong, but struggles due to lack of mobility. All of its attacks are good, but just good.

Staff is held back by the fact that its dash attack is immobile and has very few i-frames. Down-up B and Pole Vault into B are both good, but are outclassed.

Water has a strong attack in its down-up B, which creates a rainbow and does good damage. It also has a projectile that it can stay relatively safe while using. However, the projectile falls to the ground, meaning Water really struggles against enemies that stay high in the air. Anything out of reach of its rainbow attack will be quite a hassle to kill.

Sweep - I somehow cleared true arena with solo sweep, so maybe it's better than I was able to figure out? I tried for a while. It's hold and release B move, which sweeps and then flicks the broom, does good damage. Additionally, its dash attack is decent.

Fire has one decent move - its midair down B, which causes it to roll into an invincible ball of fire. If you use this near the ground, you'll then roll. If used on a big enemy, it can do good damage, but most of the time you won't be doing much damage at all. Barely makes D tier.

C Tier:

These characters are okay. They generally require a very patient and careful playstyle, but can do decent damage.

Rock can do damage. It has invincibility. It even has an up B in this game that is strong! But... well, unless you're playing with friends, you are going to be waiting around in rock form A LOT while playing this character. Waiting as two Bugsys hover around you, waiting for that perfect opportunity... to unrock, and then rock right back up. It's boring. But you can win with it.

Beetle can be strong, but it needs to be very careful about the opportunities it takes to attack, as many leave it vulnerable in end lag.

Hammer is the only copy ability here where you're better off playing as Kirby. Bonkers' hurtbox is big, why not just use Dedede?

Yoyo is like a better Bird. It has lots of mobility and i-frames, but only does decent damage (rather than Bird who does none). Its down up B is good damage on large enemies, but leaves it vulnerable.

B Tier:

Clearing the true arena with these characters will be a challenge, but keep at it and you can succeed for sure! These characters have at least something that is actually GOOD, without drawbacks.

Bomb is safe and does a surprising amount of damage. Simple, but effective, and you can aim which is a perk. Wind and ice weapons are great on this one.

Whip is what Yoyo and Staff want to be. Though it's dash B isn't as mobile as Yoyo's, it does a lot of damage, and has much more i-frames than Staff's. Its down up move does great damage and does not leave it uncomfortably airborne like Yoyo. And like Yoyo, it can grab and throw stars and enemies.

Spider is very safe and fun. All of its moves do good damage, and you can kite enemies and spam your dashing midair B. Webbed enemies that you hit into others will do a lot of damage, and jumping off of webs is a great way to deal with airborne bosses such as Kracko and Void. Spider works well as a teammate when playing with friends for this reason, as your webs can basically function as shields against some attacks. Also particularly noteworthy is that spider has a damage-immune shield (damage-immune shields can still be sucked, blown, and tornado'd) that can be used midair.

Parasol does insane damage with its down B attack, which also grants i-frames. This can be spammed to absolutely decimate health bars, and you can move during it to reposition. Parasol also has great mobility in it's dash B, midair dash B, and midair down B, all three giving i-frames - as well as a decently powerful throw. Parasol struggles most against Hyness, who rarely goes to the ground and as such does not present many opportunities to down B.

Sword has a good dash attack, and a great up B down B combo that can really put in work against larger bosses. It is vulnerable, however, at the end of the combo, and is not great at dealing with midbosses and smaller enemies. It's midair dash B is also good, but not nearly as good as a certain other character. Wind can help Sword by increasing it's mobility.

Plasma is a great ability so long as you don't mind destroying your thumbs! For those who don't know, Plasma in this game works like this: as you move the joystick, Plasma will build up static electricity. This has three levels, and when it's fully charged, it can be fired out as a powerful circular bolt. Until it is used, the static buildup also functions as a shield, and will allow Plasma to warp instead of dodge up to three times. Plasma is good at dealing with Kracko, Void, and Hyness thanks to it's up B, which sends the circular bolt upwards, and is safe against other enemies. But yeah, you have to kill your thumbs. Mine hurt right now.

Cutter is good, but not as good as bomb.

Gooey is just slightly better rock. Most of Gooey's moves don't do much damage. Gooey's rock can be painted. Gooey also has a damage-immune shield, but it doesn't really matter because you might as well rock up.

A Tier

These characters are legitimately good, but there is a lot of variety in exactly how the characters in this category are good. It is organized by how likely you are to be able to clear with them. Now that I'm getting into good characters: I played every character in this category with every single element to deduce which element goes best with each one. I technically have them all tiered, too, but I figured that was too much for anyone to read.

Adeleine's down B's minions do a surprising amount of damage (great), and are quite versatile, even being able to hit airborne enemies such as Kracko and Void. She also has the best shield in the game, completey invincible and unable to be hit by anything to my knowledge (possibly Morpho Knight tornado), and a good air attack option thanks to Ribbon. She doesn't have any i-frames, so she may require a bit of waiting - like Rock, but that's only if you put yourself in that situation.

Susie (Ice) has shots that drop large balls of ice at the end. She easily destroys most bosses with these. Business Suit has i-frames at the beginning of its spin and a very powerful midair down B, also reducing damage and preventing negative status effects. Susie will likely get hit because of her massive hurtbox in Business Suit mode, but it won't matter as much thanks to the damage reduction.

Dark Meta Knight (Fire) has two great moves in his charge Bs. Fire was chosen as the best element for him because it expands the radius of his charge B. His dash and aerial attacks are great, especially if you can land his dash combo. Dark Meta Knight also has a damage-immune shield.

Chilly is surprising in its placement, but its midair B does insane damage and it has a solid kit to boot. Instead of normal dash B, Chilly needs to use dash down B for an briefly invincible and mobile ice ball. Chilly also has a damage-immune shield.

Daroach has a lot of options and all of them are great. Fire bombs destroy Whispy and Kracko, Ice Laser easily clears midbosses and does great damage to everyone else, Squeaks are second only to Adeleine's minions in their effectiveness, and the Triple Star is a great tool for staying safe while dealing good damage. Daroach doesn't have a special shield, but he does have a three-use, chainable warp as opposed to an air dodge, which if used correctly should be able to save you from any bad situation.

Bandana Dee (Ice) is stronger than any other Bandana Dee variant (you may notice a pattern like that...). Bandana Dee's dashing midair b can be spammed and does great damage, like a machine gun, but is held back by the fact that you inevitably touch the ground after 4-6 spears. Bandana Dee's strongest move is probably its down B, which can also serve nicely as a dash attack, as it has great mobility and i-frames. Bandana Dee (Wind) has a good charge B, but wonky throwing spears and lackluster damage output when compared to Ice overall.

Ninja (Ice) has potentially the most DPS in the game. By being near an enemy and pressing and holding B briefly, you do a double slashing move that creates an ice pillar that constantly damages an enemy. You can beat Whispy with this in under 20 seconds! Shurikens are good for hitting faraway enemies, and Ninja is also able to use Substitute Jutsu if it block before getting hit. The reason Ninja is not S tier is because it struggles against airborne enemies and is not able to utilize its full potential unless it catches an enemy standing still. High skill cap, but high reward.

Meta Knight has insane DPS with his dashing midair B spam. Ice and Wind are best, depending on who you're struggling with. Meta Knight can struggle to do damage while also keeping himself safe, and for that reason is best when playing with friends. His down up B, condor dive, grants i-frames and is usable in the air. His counter also does great damage.

Dedede (Shock) has great damage in his kit and a lot of i-frames, including his dash B and iconic down up B. However, he is hindered by his slow movement and large hurtbox.

S Tier

These characters will have no problem clearing if you play them right, but are they broken? Considering what is to come... nahhhh.

Marx (Ice, Wind, Water) has two great moves in his black hole which can do insane damage and is invincible, and his dive which can do great damage and is invincible. Marx pretty much always wants to stay in the air, and his midair B has a lot of variety depending on your element, but it is most notably a very safe move. Marx has a one time warp in the air that can be chained but has to be timed perfectly in order to retain invincibility, and his main drawback is that all of his powerful, i-frame granting moves tend to be pretty vulnerable with end lag. For that reason, Marx needs to be played patiently.

Rick & Kine & Coo have the best dash attacks in the game, both midair and grounded. Rick (grounded) will turn into a mobile rock, completely invincible, dealing a lot of damage, and also able to move, while Kine (midair) has a long spin attack with plenty of i-frames. Rick conveniently also bounces off the top of the heads of enemies, Kine has a projectile that can travel a fair distance but is weak, Rick can melt ice with his fire, Coo can cleanse dirty food with his flop. These guys also have a damage-immune shield.

Taranza is a case where all of his moves are great, but none of them are insane. Put them together, though, and you'll clear bosses safely. Taranza can kind of do several things at once, and I'd recommend down up B + dash B + up B. Utilizing all of this damage at once will destroy bosses quickly. When you don't feel you're safe as Taranza, midair up B and midair down B can give you control and hit from a distance.

SS Tier

Magolor's down up B is insane. He summons a giant sword that takes up the entire screen, then slashes it and hits everything for insane damage while being invincible, then can cancel that sword into itself. He has an invincible dash move, by far the best air dodge in the game, a black hole that he can summon just like Marx, and a powerful fire projectile that can melt ice. And that's not even everything - so how is this not the most broken character in the game?

SSS Tier

Somehow, dear reader, you have made it this far. The best character in Star Allies, even better than Magalor, are the Three Mage Sisters is ZAN MOTHERFUCKING PARTIZANNE. Zan does not care what you can throw at her, she has something to handle it, and chances are she doesn't need to use it. Because Zan's down up B is a giant piercing laser that covers the entire screen, grants i-frames, can be cancelled into itself, does insane damage, and can be moved during. There are just no enemies that can even pose a challenge to this character. There are no enemies that can even damage her. My highest score in Star Allies was me goofing around and playing solo Three Mage Sisters and just repeatedly spamming this move over and over again! The funny thing is, her other moves are good too, and so are her sisters to an extent! But Zan is great because she also has really fast movement as well as a warp similar to Marx and Daroach's. In a pinch she can relocate incredibly quickly, and she has no need for a shield because her warp, when you're used to it, is probably the easiest to chain into itself.

So yeah this was my Star Allies tier list. If you've read this far I'm actually amazed. Thanks. Star Allies is at its most fun, I feel, when playing with friends. If you'd like me to talk in more detail (but not as much as this post) about some friend strategies and which ones are best, such as painting rocks, let me know, I guess.

[nad-zeta]

Arthur - Drive from hell

Fandom: Ikevamp

Pairings: Arthur x Reader

Genre: Fluffffff

Words: 1600

Warning: Learning to drive.... so yeah

Comments: Eeeeep, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TANIIIII! Hope you have the best day! //dances around ❤❤ ❤Sending ya alll the hugs and yummo birthday cake! 😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈 @nuttytani

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:

“You ready, duckling?” Arthur asked, full of beans, climbing from the driver’s seat and doing a light lil ol jogging around the car to open the passenger door for you.

Today was the day! You were now officially legal, and Arthur had taken it upon himself to teach you how to drive. To say you were nervous would be a gross understatement— you had barely, BARELY even passed your learners exam, and now here you were, about to be sat behind the wheel of arguably your greatest challenge yet, a 4x4 Hilux, a beast of a car in its own right.

You had already started regretting your life decisions when Arthur had to give you a hand up to get into the big beast of a car, never mind barely being tall enough to see over the steering wheel.

“Safety first, Luv,” he grinned from the passenger seat, reaching across you to help secure your seatbelt as you acclimated yourself to the change in position. How strange it was to be sitting on the other side, peddles below, massive wheel in front. And not to mention all the switches and buttons— so many little things that you had no idea what they were for or how they worked— and yet all so tempting to press and try out.

You looked over at Arthur, anxiety only growing as you had no idea where to even begin. “Alrighty, let’s get this show on the road,” he clapped his hands together, smiling broadly as he put on a pair of blue polka dot sunglasses.

Truly this man had far too much faith in you.

“Arthur, are you sure about this?” you asked one final time before placing your one foot on the clutch while the other pushed the brake—you know, just in case.

“Of course, what kind of rotten boyfriend would I be if I couldn’t even teach my lovely lady how to drive, now first things first, the safety checklist.”

He held up his gloved hand, counting off all the points to remember when driving, “Number one, make sure the car is in neutral before starting it. Number two, keep your foot on the clutch. Number three, turn the ignition all the way, and once you are ready to rumble, release the handbrake and slowly lift your foot from the clutch as you step on the gas. Got it?”

You nodded, half the instructions going completely over your head— you got this, you got this, you kept repeating to yourself like a mantra.

Your shaky hands reached for the keys, turning them until the car roared to life.

“I did it! I DID IT! Loook Arthur, look! I switched the car on!” you exclaimed, smiling brightly at Arthur, who clapped his hands together in praise.

Next, you slowly release the clutch forgetting all about the petrol and hand brake, causing the car to lurch forward and stall. You let go of a high pitched squeak, eyes going wide and knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel.

Clam as ever, Arthur patted you on the head, “Ah, it’s alright, Luv, see nothing to be afraid of; you simply forgot to step on the gas.”

It appeared as though Arthur had nerves of steel talking you through every instruction, patiently teaching you, and frankly, it wasn’t before long; you actually got the car moving. More than moving even, you were DRIVING!, no jerky movements, just girl vs the open road! Oh, the freedom and sense of independence were exhilarating, even at 20km per hour.

Meanwhile, Arthur was having a very different experience from the passenger seat.

Oh Lord Arthur was thankful he had taken you out to an abandoned field to learn how to drive, even more, grateful that you were driving an off-roader and not Vincent’s old fashioned bright yellow beetle, cause heaven knows death would be knocking otherwise.

Yes, despite his calm facade, he was desperately gripping the fear handle— an appropriate name, really, for what he felt in this moment was truly fear. “B-bird d-don’t you think you should slow down a little,” he stammered out; any chance of composure had been long gone as you drove at top speed (40km/h) across the planes of the field, launching the car into the air as you drove over yet another tiny hill.

“By Thunder, please, I beseech thee if there is a god I promise to live a wholesome life from this point onwards, please just spare meeee- ahhh,” he implored, sunglasses now halfway down his nose, revealing his wide shot eyes.

You drove without a care in the world, thoroughly enjoying the whole experience of driving over the small rolling hills. You rolled your eyes, one hand on the steering wheel, the other one giving Arthur’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Come on, Arthur, don’t be so dramatic, ooooh look another dip, hold on tight,” you quickly announced with a delighted squeal navigating the terrain like a self-proclaimed pro.

The car rattled and jerked,” F-f-f-udge,” Arthur yelled out, hand shooting forward to the glove box to steady himself and prepare for the impact.

“Whoooooohooo! This is great! Who knew driving could be this fun,” you exclaimed full of joy, eyes sparkling as you spotted the next mountain to go up and conquer.

Arthur’s panicked eyes followed your line of sight, and it certainly didn’t take a genius to know what you had planned. “My love, my darling, my heart and soul, for all that is good and holy, please I beg of you, please PLEASE STOP THE CAR”, he pleaded and prayed. It was not his birthday, but hells, he was making a birthday wish on your behalf—the wish to see another day.

You looked over at Arthur once more, and upon seeing the distress crossing his feature, you cut your bundu bashing adventure short. Although realization quickly dawned upon you, spending all this time driving across the mountainside, you had not really mastered the art of coming to a smooth stop. So, you did what any new learner would do when someone demands the vehicle to a standstill. Thrust both your feet forward at the same time and pull at the emergency brake.

Arthur launched forward as the car came to a screeching halt, dust being kicked up and settling around the car— the perfect execution of an emergency stop, you mused.

Heart hammering in his ears, Arthur let go of broken laughter, hands feeling himself in disbelief, “I’m alive? I’M ALIVE! GOD, I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.”

You rolled your eyes, looking over at him, completely unimpressed, “ohhh, come on, it was not that bad? Was it?”

“I think I might just need a change of underwear after that ‘thrilling experience’,” he exaggerated, throwing the car door open and dramatically flopping onto the ground.

Why he was so happy, he almost kissed the ground. He looked at you from his place on the dirt, “I am going to need a stiff drink. Blimey bird, that was nerve-wracking.”

You turned the car off, hopping from your seat and slinking up to Arthur to offer him a hand up, mischief glowing in your eyes, “I mean, but did you die tho?”

With a shake of the head and another thankful chuckle emanating from his chest, he placed his hand in yours, “And who taught you to be this cheeky, honestly Luv.”

Climbing into the driver seat, Arthur adjusted the mirrors and started the car, his usually charming grin once more gracing to his features. “Shall I show you how it is done,” he bragged, full of confidence, happy to be back in control of the mechanic stallion.

He started the car; however, as the saying goes, ‘pride before the fall’, he failed to give enough gas and stalled the vehicle upon pulling away.

‘Shit’, he thought, sparing you a sheepish glance only for you to burst out into full-blown laughter. “You are going to show me what now; perhaps I should be the one to teach you,” you smacked your knee snorting out.

Arthur pouted, a shade of pink coming to rest upon his cheeks in embarrassment. But before he could even answer, an unimpressed grunt could be heard coming from the back seat, “That’s it, both of you out! NOW!”

Two pairs of eyes snapped back to the source of the voice only to lock onto a very, VERY traumatized and unimpressed looking dutch. He stomped out of the car before dragging Arthur from the driver’s seat.

“That is the last time I EVER let either of you near my car,’ he scowled angrily, turning the ignition and putting the car into gear.

“Hmpf can’t believe I fell for the ‘let’s go and get some birthday pancakes’ trick,” he grumbled under his voice, making his way back to the main road.

“Why old goat, that is an excellent idea!” Arthur chimed in from the backseat, starting a chant that would inevitably lead to getting what he wanted.

You joined in, of course, chanting happily with an equally broad smile littered on your face, “birthday pancakes, birthday pancakes, birthday pancakes.”

With a scoff of irritation, Theo was helpless but to go along with the whims of the day; after all, he did love pancakes, and after that traumatizing experience, he would need some sugar to cleanse his soul.

“Hmpf fine, but only because it is this one’s birthday,” he finally barked out with a roll of the eyes, yet an unmissable smirk of excitement making its way onto his lips.

[softyoongiionly]

Can I Make a Mess Now?

Jungkook’s never had sex before but, after realizing that he’s falling in love with you, he thinks he wants that to change.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Virgin! Jungkook, established relationship au, college au, smut, fluff.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: This is a part 2 to Will You Make a Mess Now? Please please please let me know what you think! Love you

Warnings: smut, language, 18+ only please.

Winter break never lasts long enough does it?

A few short weeks of bliss and then-

BOOM.

You’re forced out of the warm and lazy cocoon of holiday spirit and, back into the rigidity of modern education.

It’s not that you don’t enjoy your studies, it’s just that after nearly four years of exams and, group projects that never go exactly as planned; you are starting to feel burnt out.

It also doesn’t help that you spent the majority of your winter break sleeping over at your boyfriends house.

You got used to the weight of his head on your chest.

You got used to running your fingers through his hair; an act that lulled both of you to sleep.

You got used to waking up beside him every morning.

When the semester started once again, the two of you agreed that you’d reserve overnight stays to weekends only.

As encouraging as you were of each other’s success, copious amounts of alone time is a (delightful) distraction.

Especially since the two of you began exploring the boundaries of your relationship.

At the beginning of winter break, Jungkook had revealed to you that not only was he a virgin but, he’s never been touched before.

After a bit of discussion, he decided that he wanted you to change that.

And boy did you…

You still can’t get the images of him falling apart beneath the firm grasp of your hand out of your head.

It’s arguably one of the best things you’ve ever seen.

Jungkook’s room became the safe haven for exploration.

Many cold nights were spent underneath his duvet, touching on each other until things eventually got heated enough for you to take turns making eachother cum.

Happy Holidays indeed.

There was one night in particular that things got a little out of hand.

In the heat of the moment, Jungkook had torn off your t-shirt, leaving the two of you to make out in your underwear.

He positioned you on his lap with a low whine in his throat and, at the feeling of your heat pressing directly into his dick; he almost lost it right then and there.

It took everything in him to keep his hands steady.

To keep them from ripping your panties off…

However, he succeeded and although, it was painful to slow things down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

The only problem is, that night increased his desire to a level he’s never felt before.

He knows he wants you to be his first but; he’s so particular and, so sensitive to his surroundings that he wants to make sure everything is perfect.

Perfection is a concept he frequently struggles with and, although he’s lessened his standards over the years, he still finds himself reverting back to his old habits.

Losing his virginity is a big deal for him.

He can’t help that.

And because it carries so much weight, he feels the need to hold off until the moment is 100% right.

But, how does he define such a thing?

He knows he wants you.

He knows you want him.

He knows he’s falling in love with you…

So, how is a perfect moment established?

Can you plan it?

Jungkook doesn’t know but, he’s starting to believe that he can’t.

His brothers don’t understand his issues.

Seokjin’s been with his girlfriend for two years and, every time she comes to visit, he can hear her moaning through his bedroom door.

An event that continuously scars him.

Namjoon is engrossed in his studies so, he doesn’t make time for relationships.

But one time, when he was looking for his laptop, Jungkook walked in on him getting his dick sucked.

He’s still never gotten that image out of his head.

Hoseok literally attended an orgy two months ago.

Jimin’s dating his childhood sweetheart.

Taehyung stays over at the sorority house at least twice a week.

And, last but not least, Yoongi frequently walks around sporting various love bites and scratch marks after a night with his girlfriend.

Jungkook’s spoken with his hyungs’ regarding sex a few times but, it’s never a conversation he initiates.

He’s far too shy to openly speak about these things.

But from what he’s gathered, sex is top notch.

None of his brothers could think of anything that feels as good, although Yoongi did cite sleeping as a close second.

After a long week of lectures and tedious lab work, Jungkook has finally decided that he wants to lose his virginity.

Or at least…he’s ready to talk about it…

He starts off guns a blazing: he sends you a text trying to appear nonchalant despite the fact that his heart is currently pounding in his chest.

Jungkook: do you want to come over tonight? 

Jungkook: there’s a new season of that anime we started watching :)

His message does the same bit of damage on your heart because, although you two have been dating for quite some time, you still get excited at the thought of seeing him.

You: plzzz

You: this first week has killed me

You: I need to relax so bad

You: my brain cell count has dropped to dangerously low amount.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, shaking his head at your response.

Jungkook: wow

Jungkook: lower than normal???

Jungkook: that’s pretty bad jagi :/

You giggle, already gathering your toothbrush and, various other items needed for an overnight stay.

You:  I know

You: it’s a tragedy : (

Despite the playful banter between the two of you, Jungkook is furiously moving around his room, cleaning every inch of it.

He’s dusting the shelves, vacuuming his floor, rearranging his figurines on his desk.

He feels like a mad man…

Jungkook: lol you’re ridiculous

Jungkook: you can come over around 7 if you’re ready; I’m just finishing up an assignment.

Jungkook: miss you <3

Your boyfriend is literally sour patch kid.

You: miss you too 

You: falling asleep without you sucks

You: 10/10 would not recommend

Jungkook smiles, gripping his phone in his hand, a flurry of emotions stirring in his stomach.

Jesus, he really likes you…

Jungkook: stay the night then

Jungkook: I’ll make sure you sleep better tonight

He feels proud of himself.

He initiated you coming over, he’s holding a playful/flirty conversation with you, and he’s totally not freaking out at the fact that he’s going to have to tell you he’s ready to have sex.

Right?

Okay, the last part is definitely a lie but he’s just gonna go with it.

You: on my way :)

Jungkook receives this text from you roughly two hours later when he’s getting out of the shower.

He deep cleaned his bedroom, put fresh bedding on his mattress, scrubbed every inch of his body and, now he was standing in front of the mirror with nothing but a towel on his hips.

He takes time slathering lotion all over his skin, hoping that you like the vanilla-honey scent before applying a copious amount of deodorant.

He shaved in the shower, taking his time to remove the bit of hair around his crotch because it makes him feel cleaner.

Jungkook’s hair is getting longer too so, he’s been putting leave in conditioner on his ends to keep them healthy and spritzing his hair with anti-frizz serum.

After roughly 20 minutes of primping, he gets another text from you as he’s pulling on his sweat pants.

You: Here <333

Jungkook feels his stomach twist whilst reading your message.

Here goes nothing…

You’re standing outside the door of Jungkook’s house, dressed in a hoodie and a pair of leggings.

Comfy works out for you because, it requires minimal effort and, it’s also your boyfriend’s favorite look on you.

So, it’s a win win.

Given the fact that you and Jungkook usually end up fooling around, you took the time to exfoliate and shave whilst you were in the shower.

You may have also worn a new lacy red bra that had arrived in the mail earlier that day…

But, who knows?

“Yahhh there she is…”

You instantly light up as Jungkook eagerly swings open his front door, quickly pulling you into his grasp.

He smells amazing but, he feels even better and, you waste no time in pulling him close to you.

“I missed you.” You mutter into his hair

He grins, hugging you a bit tighter and, ushering you inside, “Missed you too, are you cold at all?”

Stepping through the threshold of his door, you notice that he’s freshly showered himself, his hair is damp and stringy but, it frames his face perfectly

“A little bit but, I plan on using you for warmth really soon so, I’m good.”

His hand is intertwined with yours as he leads you up to his room and, his face lights up with a smile.

“I got a new duvet on Tuesday, it’s really warm but,” He places a hand on his chest. “,you can still use me though, I missed having you here.”

Jungkook mutters the last half of his sentence, his cheeks warming up at his confession before he pushes open the bedroom door.

You don’t comment on his shyness but, it makes you smile and lean into him a little more.

His room is always clean but, the fresh scent of his disinfectant spray is slightly more pungent than normal. It isn’t a harsh smell; it’s a soft lavender cleaner that he special orders from Korea.

He absolutely hates the scent of bleach.

“It’s a nice color huh?”

Jungkook gestures to the muted grey of his new bedding, which is carefully placed over his mattress.

“I love it, it’s very you.” You smile as your eyes scan the room, “it matches your furniture really well too.”

His eyes light up, “Yeah, yeah that’s why I got it. I knew it would look good with the- um the desk and the dresser and stuff. See, I knew you’d notice that…you always notice things like that.”

Before you can respond he’s speaking again, his tone slightly uneven, “Um do you want to lay down? I know you said you were cold. I can hold you if you want-“ He grimaces at his word choice, not fully understanding why his nerves are taking over already, “not that  I don’t want to or anything. I do, I just…I know you’re cold.”

You touch your hand to his cheek, bringing his wandering eyes back to yours, ��Are you ok?”

Jungkook swallows, his eyes locking with yours, “Y-Yeah, I just don’t want you to be cold…”

You’re not convinced.

Although the two of you have only been together for 6 months, you like to think you’ve gotten to know Jungkook really well. He isn’t exactly a closed book and, when he’s nervous about something, it’s fairly obvious.

“Are you suuuure?”

The question is paired with a soft kiss to his lips and, Jungkook can’t help but smile when you do, his posture relaxing slightly.

“I’m sure, I’m just happy you’re here. It was weird not seeing you all week.” He tucks a stray hair behind your ear before, pecking your lips.

Again, you’re not convinced but, you don’t want to pry.

He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

The matter of his worries is dropped and, Jungkook quickly (and neatly) pulls back the covers so, that the two of you can slip underneath them.

Moments later, you’re nestled against your boyfriend’s side, draping your arm over your stomach.

“You smell good…” You mutter against his sweater, nuzzling gently against the material.

Jungkook grins triumphantly, silently patting himself on the back for his choice of lotion.

“Thank you,” His chest vibrates with the sound of his voice, “so do you…”

With that, he tentatively raises a hand towards your hair, allowing his fingertips to brush over the top of your head.  

The anime begins playing but, you’re more focused on the way his fingers feel, as you melt into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.

And halfway through the first episode, Jungkook’s motions are beginning to take a toll on you.

But not in the way you’d normally expect…

He’s smiling softly, admiring the way you sigh at his touch, taking time to play with the ends of your hair before massaging gently at your scalp.  

“You’re going to make me sleepy…” You mumble contently, a few minutes later and, Jungkook chuckles breathlessly beneath you.

“That’s ok; you can sleep if you need to.”  

He means it.

Jungkook had other things on his agenda but, now that you’re here, all he cares about is your comfort.  

“Don’t wanna sleep-“ You nudge your nose against his ribcage, “I missed you.”

With another chuckle, he traces his fingers over the edges of your hairline, brushing over the shell of your ear.

You can feel goosebumps rising on your skin but, it’s not intrusive or sudden, they come on slowly along with a type of comfort that only Jungkook can provide.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” He soothes, his motions continuing over the arches of your brows before, he traces back up the expanse of your forehead. “I promise.”

You can feel yourself smile as your blinking slows, taking another deep breath whilst your body seems to melt into him.

The heaviness in your eyelids is growing despite your best efforts to warrant off your exhaustion.

You didn’t want to nap, you wanted to spend time with your boyfriend but, when he tucks his fingers beneath your hair and, begins scratching gently on your scalp, the threat of sleep becomes more prominent.

“Sleepy girl…” He teases, a fond smile on his lips as he watches your eyes finally close. His thumb brushes over your cheek, gently pinching at the skin before, returning his hand to your hair.

This warms you from the inside out and, sooner or later you can’t help but, drift off into a light sleep.

Jungkook smile grows and, he slows his movements to a stop before tugging on the duvet until it covers your shoulders.  

He decides in that moment that he really wouldn’t mind spending every night just like this; tucked under the covers, falling asleep in eachother’s arms.  

He changes the show to something you’ve already seen; he doesn’t want to watch the anime without you.  

After some time has passed, you slowly come out of your slumber, happy you’re still laying on your boyfriend’s chest.  

You peer up at Jungkook to see his brow furrowed in concentration as his gaze is locked firmly on the screen.  

A smile immediately finds it’s way onto your lips, your finger reaching out to bop him on the nose.

He jumps at first, not understanding the source of the interruption before he quickly matches your smile, ““Yah she’s awake. Did you have a good nap?” He thumbs over your cheek once more and, you’re overcome by the urge to press a kiss against his lips

He’s willing and able to accept it.

His hands come up to hold you against him and, he slowly begins to move his lips against yours

“Mhm...”

His nose wrinkles with the joy on his face as he presses more kisses to your lips.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep, I just haven’t been getting to bed on time this week...”

An adorable pout comes over his mouth, “Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you were able to get some rest. It’s not late or anything.”

It’s well past sunset but, Jungkook’s vanilla cake candle is providing enough light to illuminate the details of your boyfriends face.  

You kiss him again, just because he’s cute and you can, “What did you do while I was out?”

His head reclines against his pillow again but, he tugs you closer, ensuring that you remain against him.

“I watched a few episodes of Naruto...” He admits, “I’ve seen it a million times but, I never get tired of it.”

Your arms drape over his shoulders as the upper half of your body rests over his chest. The wispy ends of his black hair are too cute to resist so you absentmindedly toy with them as you respond,

“I get it, I have a few different shows that I’m like that with; I swear I’ve seen The Office so many times I could quote it in my sleep.”  

A half smirk curves on the end of his mouth, “Yeah that’s a good one too, Jin hyung watches that show all the time.”

You giggle, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear, “Ah that explains a lot actually, Jin and Michael Scott have a lot in common.”

He chuckles at that, nodding in agreement, leaning his head against your hand.

“Which character do you think you are?”

You purse your lips, mulling it over, your eyes narrowing in thought, “Hmmm that’s a tough one cause like- I wanna say Kelly because, she’s amazing but in reality, I’m probably more of a Kevin.”

Jungkook’s smirk grows, “Isn’t that the guy who dropped his chili all over the place?

With a dramatic sigh, you nod, “God, I’ve never related to anyone more in my entire life...”

A full belly laugh comes from your boyfriends pretty mouth, his body trembling beneath you as he shakes his head.

It’s one of your favorite sounds, especially when it gets all high pitched like it is now.

“Jagi you aren’t Kevin...” He insists, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, “You are cooler than him.”

“You’re just saying that because you see the best side of me; in reality I am 100% Kevin.” You giggle, tucking more hair behind his other ear.

He still chuckles, shaking his head before nodding to you, “Who do you think I am?”

This definitely gets your brain going.

“I’m leaning towards Jim, you guys have a lot in common.” You nod as you continue to think about their similarities, “Yeah, you both have the same sense of humor and, even though you’re more sexy in an obvious way, you both have the same kind of sexiness?? If that makes sense?? But, you’re definitely hotter than Jim.”

You force your train of thought away from the office- style fantasy that pops into your head as Jungkook feels something stir deep in his gut.

“You think I’m sexy?”

You can’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face, you swear you’ll never understand how Jungkook doesn’t see how hot he is.

“Duh.” You seal your response with a kiss but, Jungkook surprises you by sitting up and tugging you onto his lap.

He chuckles at the squeal that leaves your lips but, he carries on kissing you, his hands sliding up your outer thighs.

You don’t know what prompts his motions but, you’re not really in the mood to ask.

You’d much rather sit on your boyfriend’s lap and, make out with him.

“Can you-” He whispers against your lips, slightly breathless, “Can you say it?”

Your eyes flutter open to catch the shyness in his, “Can I say what?”

Warmth floods the apples of his cheeks, “Can you say that you think I’m sexy?”

A smirk teases the corners of your mouth and, tentatively you roll your hips against his.

“Are you trying to get hard Jungkook?”

You can hear him gulp, his eyes widening a bit before he nods.

With a smirk still on your lips, you tilt his head back, moving your fingers through his hair as you slowly begin placing kisses up the side of his neck.

His breathing picks up and, god help him, he immediately feels his dick hardening in his sweats.  

Jungkook’s neck is a sensitive area and, you know exactly where his weak spots are.

As you reach the lobe of his ear, you feel his grip tighten on your hips, his mouth parted slightly to make way for his shaky breath.  

“Jungkook?” You whisper in his ear, biting your lip as you see him visibly shiver beneath you.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re sexy.”  

You nibble on his ear before quickly reuniting your lips, your hands sliding underneath his sweater.

His skin is so soft, so warm beneath your fingertips and, there is a large part of you that wishes you could spend hours just touching and kissing your boyfriend’s body.

Jungkook is eagerly reciprocating your kiss whilst his hands slowly move back up the outsides of your thighs.

His plan to get hard definitely worked because, you can feel him poking against your hips and, you’re already thinking of all the different ways you can make him cum.

“Did you get hard for me?” You whisper against his swollen lips, nudging his nose

Instantly he nods, his hands tugging the hem of your hoodie.

You take the hint, pulling back from him in order to remove it.  

Your plan is to continue kissing him of course but, as Jungkook spots the fire-red lace cups supporting the swells of your breasts, he lets out a tortured sigh.

“Is that new?” He swallows thickly, biting his bottom lip, allowing his hands to trail up your hips before securing themselves against your waist.

All you do is nod, sticking your chest out a bit and, encouraging him to keep touching you.

Jungkook leans in, dragging the tip of his nose between your breasts, inhaling when he reaches the space between your color bones.

“Did you wear this for me?”

His voice is ragged but, it’s deeper than normal, due to the arousal coating his tone.

“I wanted to look pretty for you.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair.

You can feel him smile against your chest, his wet lips trailing back to tops of the bra, “You’re always pretty but this-” He grows bolder, biting softly at your breast, “this is torture”

A giggle bubbles past your lips, as you roll down against him once more.

“Jagi I-” The sensation of pleasure that toys with his body acts like a truth serum and, in an act of desperation that he definitely didn’t plan, a confession tumbles from his mouth, “I want you.”

But you don’t quite catch his drift, still rocking slowly against him, arousal slowly beginning to unravel you, “I want you too.”

No like,” He pulls away, his eyes glazed over with desire as they lock onto yours, “I want to be inside of you...”

It’s like a punch to the gut really, the way your boyfriend’s voice seems to quake under the weight of his admission.

You cup his cheek, “Really? Are you sure?”

He nods eagerly, licking his lips before turning to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist, “I want you so bad...”  

You’re quick to capture his lips then, kissing into him with more fervor than you ever have.  

"Can you do it for us Noona?” He croons into your mouth, his eyes darkened with lust as they plead with yours.

A nod is all you can manage at his devasting way of asking you to ride him.

For the first time...

You’re pulling off his sweater, securing your lips to his once more, kissing on them as you lean him back against the pillows.

Your bottoms are removed, leaving you completely naked as you tug his sweats down his legs.

Jungkook’s erection looks painful and, you feel yourself ache at the thought of finally being able to sit on it.

As you sit astride him once more, you lean down to press a kiss between his eyes before trailing your lips down the bridge of his nose to hover over his mouth.

He looks a little emotional, staring up at you as if you hung the moon just for him.

And you would, you’d do anything for him.

“Are you ready baby?” You whisper

He takes a deep and unstable breath through his nose but, gives you a nod anyway as he exhales through his mouth.

Right as you start lining him up with your entrance, Jungkook cups your cheek, his hand clammed up due to his nerves.

“Jagi?” He croaks

You kiss his hand gently, reassurance in your eyes, “Yeah?”

“G-Go slow please...”

You nod, “Of course, tell me if you want to stop at any point ok?”

He returns your nod before, letting out another breath as his head returns to his pillows.

Slowly but surely, you begin sheathing him in your heat, going as slow as possible so he can feel everything.

His body seems to freeze as you sink down on him, his hands tightening on your hips before a gasp leaves his throat.

Jungkook is quite sure he’s in heaven.

That’s the only explanation for the intense feelings of pleasure swimming through his body. He’s never felt anything so hot, so tight-  

So fucking good.

He’s going to lose his mind.  

With wide eyes, he stares up at you in awe, his lips parted as the length of his dick is fully inside of you.

You’re not fairing too well either because, Jungkook fills you up perfectly, nudging against the spot within you that makes your head spin.

“Is that ok?”

“ ‘ss so good...”  His voice is slurred as his hips jerk beneath you, sending a wave of pleasure through your core.

Biting your lip, you thumb his cheek, trying to hold it together, “Can I ride you now?”

You’re asking because, you want to make sure he’s prepared.

You know this isn’t going to last long but, you still want to blow his mind.

“I’m already so close jagi...I’m sorry...” He chokes on the end of his sentence when you start a pace on his dick, “Oh fu- oh my god...”

“Shh...don’t be sorry, you’re doing so good. You cum whenever you need to ok?”  

“Ah- Y/N...”  

His beautiful features are screwed up in pleasure, his hands falling off your hips because, he literally doesn’t have the strength to hold on at this point.

Jungkook’s breathing is growing rapid, as his eyes flit to where you’re connected, “Jagi I’m- I’m really inside...I’m really inside of you...” He marvels, his voice weak with emotion as his hips begin to meet yours.  

“You feel so good inside of me.” You assure him, increasing your pace which prompts his eyes to roll back momentarily.

“Will you kiss me? Please? I wanna kiss you when I cum...and I’m-” His eyes re-focus but, it doesn’t last long as you lean forward to brace your hands on either side of his head, “Jagi I’m gonna cum already...I’m gonna cum so hard. Oh sh- shit...”

You want every wish of his to come true.

You lean down to connect your lips, your hips moving faster and faster, wanting him to cum harder than he ever has in his entire life.

He whimpers into your mouth as his sweaty hands hold you tightly against his body.

“It’s...fuck I’m sorry, I’m sor- I'm cumming.” He chokes out, his grip tightening intensely as his hips weakly jerk with the force of his release.

He says your name as he cums inside of you, trying his best to kiss you properly but, it’s wet and sloppy.

You don’t care though, you ride him through his orgasm, keeping your lips connected.

“There you go, cum for me baby...” You coo, kissing all over his face as the pleasure continues to wrack his senses.

Jungkook knows his never cum harder in his life and, by the time his orgasm settles down, he’s properly spent.

He doesn’t completely register the feeling of you sliding off of him as his whole body is alight with tingles.

You make sure to clean him up, pressing gentle kisses to his stomach as you do.

You didn’t cum this time and, to be honest, it doesn’t really matter.

What you’ve both just experienced was too intimate to measure and, orgasms weren’t really the point this time.

Tucking into your boyfriend’s body you bring him close, tugging the duvet over his shoulders this time...

“Hi” He whispers, tucking his face shyly into your neck, his breathing not fully recovered.

“Hi you...”  

With a smile on your mouth, you press a kiss to his head, holding him tightly to you.

He kisses your chest, feeling ridiculous at how shy he suddenly feels, “I think-” He stops himself to peek up at you, a bit of moisture in his eyes, “I think I’m falling for you.”

Your heart throbs at his confession, kissing his lips once more before whispering, “I think I am too.”

Jungkook knows you didn’t finish and, he plans on addressing that when he settles down but right now, all he can do is hold you.

He thinks he’s finally figured it out:

You can’t plan a perfect moment because, perfection just doesn’t exist.

But as along as he’s with you, it doesn’t really matter.