#god damn he expected me to read his emotions at every time and now what he needed and couldnt ever ask for help but he couldn't even be

[lumielwinchester]

I'm watching "My happy marriage" on Netflix and God damn is this girl annoying! People are throwing her less than breadcrumbs and she thanks them for it. Hell, those the "good-ish guys" are throwing her fucking rat poison and she still thanks them for it.

I was hoping there'd be some character growth, that she learns to recognise the abuse around her and learns to stand up for herself. And while there's been some of that as well as trusting her husband's family that is actually worth trusting. She still not even remotely recognises, how 95% of people don't give a shit about her personally and only want to use her for her power. Half her family literally abused her because they thought she had no power and the other half left her to that abuse before they found out she would be useful. And this girl still fucking thanks them for it!!!

She has been abused for such a long time and the fact that no one sits her down and explains to her that it wasn't her fault, that she didn't deserve to be treated like that and needs to ask for help, if ever anyone else locks her away or forces her to do things she doesn't want to do, is upsetting in its own right.

God damn it. I hate romantic anime.

[pretzel-box]

Hi! Hello! How are you doing? I hope you're having a great day. This is the first time I requested something so pls bare with me. So I really like the swap!Sebastian and swap!/payment received reader, so can I request a second part where Sebastian bought readers file and maybe some fluff and comfort, that'd be soooo cute and what comes next is up to you.

Anyways thanks for taking your time in reading this and it's also okay if you ignore this😊😊😊

Tags: Comfort, Fluff, Reverse AU, gn! experiment reader & human sebastian, sequel to previous chapter

Words: 1,1k

Authors Note: Since the story progresses differently, I tried to at least write the fluff and comfort part after Seb saw the tapes!

Sebastian’s breath hitched as he tried to steady himself, his heart racing and his mind a chaotic mess of thoughts. He hadn’t expected to break down like this, not here, not in front of you. He had always prided himself on being composed, on having a plan. But those tapes… the sight of what you had gone through—the screams, the agony, the helplessness—it had torn through him like a knife. He didn’t know how to cope with the knowledge of your suffering, and now, here you were, laughing so freely, so blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his heart.

“Ah, there you are!” Your cheerful voice had greeted him when he walked into the shop, his eyes still red and puffy from the tears he had tried to hold back. Your smile was so genuine, so full of light, and it only made the ache in his chest worse. He wanted to protect that light, to shield you from any more pain, but he didn’t know how.

“Look!” You said, holding up the recorder with a playful grin. “I recorded a wall dweller getting hit by Pandemonium. It got squished like a fly.” You played the clip for him like it was some kind of small victory, a moment of dark humor to lighten the mood. But Sebastian couldn’t focus on the video. He could only see you—the real you—behind the cheerful facade.

He felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes welling up with tears again. You noticed the shift in his expression, the way his face crumpled with a pain you couldn’t quite understand. “God, Sebastian,” you teased gently, though your voice was tinged with concern. “Don’t tell me you’re getting emotional over a wall dweller.”

Sebastian didn’t respond. He just stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks in silent waves. The shame of his breakdown mixed with the overwhelming sadness he felt for you, for everything you’d endured, for every piece of you that had been broken and put back together. He hated that he couldn’t control this, that he couldn’t stop crying in front of you. He felt so raw, so exposed.

You blinked, your teasing smile fading as you realized this wasn’t just some passing moment of sentiment. You stepped closer, your expression softening as you took in the sight of him—Sebastian, your normally composed and snarky companion, now reduced to tears.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace. His body stiffened at first, but then he melted into your touch, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a shaky breath. You held him close, your hand stroking the back of his head, fingers tangling gently in his hair. The other hand moved up and down his back, soothing him with gentle, rhythmic movements.

“It’s okay, Solace,” you whispered softly, your voice a calming melody against the storm raging in his mind. “The wall dweller is at a better place.”

Sebastian let out a choked laugh, a mix of a sob and a chuckle, shaking his head against your shoulder. “It’s… it’s not about the damn wall dweller,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s… it’s you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Me?” you asked, searching his tear-filled eyes for answers. “What about me?”

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady himself enough to speak. “I saw the tapes,” he admitted quietly, his voice breaking on the last word. “I saw… what they did to you. What you went through.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, your grip on him tightening instinctively. “Sebastian…” you whispered, your voice softening with understanding. “You… you saw those?”

He nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks again. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry for everything they did to you. I just… I don’t know how you’re still standing here, smiling like that.”

You felt a pang in your chest, a mix of sorrow and affection for the man in front of you. You knew the tapes were horrifying—brutal, even—but you had long since come to terms with your past. It was a part of you, yes, but it didn’t define you. Not anymore.

You cupped his face gently, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “I’m okay, Sebastian. I’m still here. I’m still… me.”

He looked at you with such a mix of awe and disbelief, his heart aching with every beat. “But how?” he whispered. “How can you just… move on from something like that?”

You gave him a small, knowing smile. “Because I have to,” you replied simply. “Because if I let it define me, if I let it break me, then they win. And I refuse to let them have that power over me.”

Sebastian stared at you, his heart swelling with a mixture of admiration and love. He had always been drawn to you, always found himself captivated by your spirit, your strength. But now, more than ever, he realized just how much you meant to him—how much he needed you in his life.

He pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice muffled against your skin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from that.”

You smiled softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair. “You’re protecting me now,” you whispered. “That’s what matters.”

You felt him nod against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you tighter as if afraid to let go. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what had happened in the past, no matter what horrors you’d both faced, you would face them together. And together, you would heal.

As the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, a small, playful smile tugged at your lips. “Besides,” you added, your tone teasing, “I bet that wall dweller’s in wall heaven now, with all his little wall dweller friends. Don’t you think?”

Sebastian let out a watery laugh, pulling back to look at you with a mix of exasperation and affection. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, a small smile breaking through his tears.

“And yet,” you said, grinning up at him, “you’re still here.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart feeling a little lighter, a little more whole. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I am.”

And as you stood there together, holding each other close, you knew that even after Sebastian saw the tapes, he would be alright. Just like you are.

[winwintea]

stop posting about BALLER - zhong chenle

PAIRING ↬ boyfriend!zhong chenle x reader

GENRES ↬ pure crack idk... fluff, romance, some angst if you look in between the lines, chenle loves basketball more than you. unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ↬ inspired by a fic i read on ao3, a tiktok i watched where op got mad at their boyfriend for having headphones in while making out, plus my post here. and also chenle's recent fanboying activity in la. ignore the title its a placeholder for now, in honor of my dear friend @syatchy london stop writing for chenle challenge

WORD COUNT ↬ 1.3K

Everyone had their hobbies. You knew your boyfriend liked basketball, you just didn’t realize he liked it that much. 

Making it your life’s goal to win over the heart of Zhong Chenle, you spent countless hours studying quizlet flashcards, watching a couple of basketball games, even trying to learn the sport as well. Although you were surprised when it didn’t take more than a few dates for you to begin dating. 

Your best friend Ning Yizhuo, on the other hand, had other ideas. 

“I just think he’s a big red flag. Who the hell puts “I’m always ballin’” as their twitter bio?” She’s sprawled across your bed, mindlessly stalking your boyfriend’s social media accounts. “What if your man loves another man more than he loves you?” 

You’re paying her no mind, working on a basketball basics test on your laptop. Eight teams from each of the league's two conferences qualify for the playoffs. The top two teams play each other in the conference finals, to determine the Conference Champions from each side. The winners then play in the NBA Finals. 

Yizhuo suddenly stands up, “Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you ignoring me?” You’re about to answer your next question, until she starts waving her hands in your face.

“What the hell, Yizhuo?” You turn around annoyed. “I was locked in!”

“Studying for basketball is crazy… Just warning you Y/N. Don’t come crying to me when your boyfriend calls you Stephen Curry’s name instead of your own.” 

You punch her in the shoulder, “I swear to god-” 

But Yizhuo seemed unfazed by your attacks, continuing on, “I’m just saying from experience hon. Sports guys like him will never love you as much as he loves his balls.”

“Um.. that’s what she said.”

—

Despite Yizhuo’s warnings and what she seemed so sure of, you and Chenle clicked in a way that none of your exes ever did. If he invited you to the gym, you’d show up with a yoga mat, pretending to do Pilates while sneaking glances at him bench pressing. If Chenle said he was hungry, you’d learn how do use a frying pan, determined to whip up something edible. And if he asked you to come over, you’d throw on your best outfit, adding an extra touch of appeal, and never forget to bring a treat for Daegal.

Spending time with Chenle was easy. It seemed almost too easy, that you began to slightly question why everything seemed so perfect. 

If there were any red flags like Yizhuo pointed out, it was probably too small to see in the mix of fun times you spent together.

Times spent together usually and often ended with the two of you cuddling or making out on his couch. 

Unsurprisingly, Chenle was a really good kisser. Plus, he was good at cuddling. You had no doubts in that moment you laid eyes on him, but everything was certainly up to expectations. He knew exactly how to hold you in his arms and make you feel like you were on top of the whole damn world. 

As you leaned in closer for another this time, your hands running through his hair, you took notice of his features. His incredibly sharp jawline (mewing tutorial when?), the flushed pink splashed across his collarbones up to his cheeks, and now that he grew out his hair longer, it was much harder to see the shape of his ears-

Hold on.

You blink and then squint your eyes for a couple of seconds, hoping you’re just imagining things.

“Chenle. Are those Airpods?”

Chenle immediately pushes you off of him and then freezes.

You see every single emotion flash through Chenle’s eyes, but he’s still speechless. You’d honestly thought you’d been through the entire spectrum of men in your life, from guys who had memes tattooed on their chest to guys who brought their mother to dates to guys with an extremely interesting savior complex, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Relax. You still had your dignity to protect. “What… are you listening to?” Maybe he was into listening to music while making out, maybe some relaxing sounds people used to cope with traumatic intimate experiences??? You were thinking of anything at this point, trying to brace yourself for the absolute worse. 

“Highlights” Chenle begins, looking at you nervously, “For uh, for the Warriors game.” Before you can even process the info, Chenle rambles on, “We’re so so close to a wild card spot and I wanted to turn the game on earlier, but you were talking about your project you were working on and I really wanted to listen, and right now it’s not like we’re talking about anything important, so I figured it might be alright if I-“

what the fuck… yeah shut the hell up right now please, you think as he keeps rambling, and turn around to grab a pillow behind to smack this big headed shit right in the head. 

“Ow-“ Chenle throws his hands up in defense, trying to block the pillow that comes crashing down. “What? Hey!”

“Zhong Chenle. I’m going to chop your fucking dick off.”

—

In the end, Chenle’s dick remains intact. 

After letting himself get beaten up by a pillow, he manages to get you to calm down, taking the airpods out, which makes you a little bit happier than you were before. 

Chenle leaves you on the couch to take a shower, allowing you to ponder for a bit. Were you being too restricting this way? Chenle seemed to still care about you, and didn’t want to take away time from your own interests as well. I mean… maybe you needed to get into basketball as well to fully understand. 

As you lounge on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through Pinterest, you hear the faint sound of the shower turning off. Before you know it, Chenle slips onto the couch beside you, his presence warm and comforting. In one smooth motion, he curls himself around you, arms gently wrapping around your waist as his head nestles into the crook of your neck. The familiar scent of the shampoo you gifted him lingers in the air, blending with the soft warmth of his skin. 

Your mind's racing, caught between conflicting emotions. And damn, Chenle smells incredible, which really isn’t helping right now.

A minute of silence passes before he finally speaks, his voice soft but serious. “Look, I get if you’re uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to push any boundaries. If that was too much, I won’t do it again. And if this is something that’s going to be a dealbreaker for us, I get it—we can end things here.”

“No, wait—no,” you cut in, setting your phone aside to face him. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Okay, it was weird. You’ll give him that. Maybe his “casual” obsession with basketball wasn’t as casual as you thought. And sure, that might be a red flag for some.

But Yizhuo’s wrong. Maybe Chenle’s got a deeper connection with his basketballs than you or whoever she’s comparing him to, but at least he’s never moaned or called you Stephen Curry in the heat of the moment.

That’s gotta count for something, right?

Yeah, maybe this wasn’t so bad. You could get used to this. Besides, he already promised he wouldn’t do it again.

Your thoughts bounce back and forth, but after a while, you break the silence with a quiet, “Did you win?”

His head lifts from your shoulder instantly, excitement buzzing in his voice. “Yeah, we did! Secured our spot in the conference finals.”

Conference finals. Oh, right. You recognize that term—studied it on Quizlet like the good, supportive partner you are.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself, swallowing down the nervous lump in your throat. Chenle might be a bit obsessed with the sport, but he was supportive of your own goals and actually a really nice boyfriend. 

“Tell me about it.”

PERM TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000

[bloodlust-1]

.·:*¨ Night Affairs ¨*:·.

Astarion x fem Tav — Explicit 18+

Summary: Oops! Tav accidentally ate a mushroom that causes her to completely lose her mind. Astarion finds her in this state and enjoy each other’s company, A little too much.

T/W: smut!

Notes: this is Pre- Astarion telling Tav his feelings for her. Also, this takes place in the under dark! Happy reading~

Tav’s body felt a subtle change that began to take hold on her. At first, she felt a gentle warmth spreading through her veins, accompanied by a tingling sensation that danced across her skin. Colors seemed to intensify, becoming more vivid and vibrant with every passing moment. Gods, she was feeling the consequences of mistaking a mushroom for something safely edible. Damn it, these mushrooms in the under dark are all confusing to her. How was she supposed to know it’d make her delusional?

It was already time for everyone to settle in their tents. Tav would have been trying to catch some Z’s like everyone else, but As time passed, Tav’s perception of reality became distorted. The world around her transformed into a kaleidoscope of swirling patterns and shifting shapes. Sounds became amplified, echoing through her ears with an otherworldly clarity. Her senses were heightened to an extraordinary degree.

She wondered outside her tent, away from the camp unknowingly, and stumbled her way around the underdark. It was beautiful with its luminous plants of all kinds. Tav’s thoughts took on a dreamlike quality as her mind wandered through uncharted territories. She experienced a profound sense of euphoria and introspection, as if she had been granted access to hidden realms of consciousness. Time lost its meaning as minutes stretched into hours and hours into what felt like an eternity.

From a short distance sat Astarion, admiring the access he had to life again. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved the adventure away from home no matter how much he missed Baldurs Gate. He was in deep thought about his situation until he heard dragging noises. He reached for his knife as he saw Tav, clumsily dragging her feet around. Her eyes were widened, almost sparkling from reflections from all the glow of the mushrooms. There was definitely something off about her.

Tav's eyes caught Astarion, by his lonesome in deep thought. She noticed his odd stare at her, "Oooh, Astarion! My favorite person in camp. Isn't it soOooOoo beautiful tonight?" She drunkenly plopped her body onto the ground, now sitting next to him.

Astarion's eyebrows crocked, and he noticed her pupils were dilated. "Oh dear, I see what's going on here. What did you eat?"

In this altered state, Tav's emotions fluctuated wildly. Waves of laughter washed over her as she found humor in the simplest things. Tears welled up in her eyes, not from sadness but from an overwhelming sense of beauty and interconnectedness with the world around her. "I didn't knoooow, please don't be mad at me. I just want to see the pretty plants tonight." Tav wiped away her unjustified tears, her mind was going insane. She could only cling to what little hold she had on reality.

Astarion tilted his head and stared at her. He was unable to take his eyes off her, often staring directly into her eyes or admiring her physical features. He adjusted his posture to face her. Admittingly, Astarion was already catching feelings for Tav the night they indulged in each other's bodies. It was just a part of his plan to manipulate her, something he knew how to do all too well. He just didn't expect to enjoy himself more than usual. It actually felt— good?

Astarion cleared his throat, "You must be losing your fucking mind. I bet anything we talk about now you won't even remember by tomorrow."

Tav slouched her head on his shoulder, her body twitching every so often, "I reaallyy don't want this to end. I lovE traveling w-with you guys, so much fun. I'm scared to go back home..." She spoke with slurs and all kinds of messiness. However, due to the fault of the mushroom she ate, the truth comes spilling out of her mouth uncontrollably.

Astarion perked up, "Scared? Darling what in the hells do you have to be scared of?" It wasn't like she had Cazador hovering over her shoulder. She couldn't possibly feel what he felt.

Tav's face ingrained with sadness. She clutched her trembling hands together, trying to steady herself. The fear that gripped her was suffocating, threatening to consume her entirely and the high didn't help her cope either. Home for her was anywhere but home. She wanted to run as far away as possible from this place that held nothing but darkness for her. "It's hard t-to talk about...You know that feeling that power someone has over you. It's hard to escape something that happened for soooo loonnngg." She rubbed her wide tired eyes. The area around her started to feel like it was melting with colors.

Astarion furrowed his brows, oddly, yes, he knew that feeling. But why did she know that feeling, "I do. But why—“

Tav cut Astarion off quickly, "I LOVE making bread. I have a hidden talent for it...Although now it isn't a secret anymore, so now you know." Tav cracked up a laugh, the little random bursts of confessions entertained her. It was hilarious to her. For no reason of course other than the mushroom effect.

"Uhh, right..." Astarion chuckled softly. She's ridiculous. It's actually entertaining to him how obliviously out of her mind she was. This was great blackmail fuel, or perhaps something he could poke fun at her for.

"Y-you are my favorite camp friend." She smiled goofily.

"Friend? What about our late-night tryst, Did you not enjoy yourself?" Astarion felt offended at her comment. Favorite, sure, but friend? This 'friend' comment did not fit into his plans. Although, lately he has been catching himself smiling at Tav more. He started to notice himself staring at her longer, maybe even lustfully? His heart raced whenever she got close to him, this was unfamiliar territory for Astarion. He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Would it make you happy to try again?"

"Oh! Yes, yes. Something in me tells me that'd make me very happy. But hold on! You dont reallyyy mean that do you?" Tav leaned away from him, and crossed her arms doubtfully.

"I— actually don't know. It doesn't really matter what I say now, you'll wake up tomorrow with not a zero clue." His mind wondered. Even if he confessed maybe having feelings for her, she would be oblivious. But it could also be a good moment to test the waters. If Astarion got a bad reaction from Tav, she'd forget all about it the next day. This could be an advantage for him.

"What if I told you you're incredible? That my plan to easily course you didn't work. That my master plan fell apart and every little thing we did together felt— meaningful…That in the midst of this mess I actually find myself caring for you?" He softly pushes away a strand of hair that swayed over Tav's face. His heart started to race to see her reaction.

To his surprise, Tav fell quiet and stared up at him. Her face flushed red and her eyes went a little watery. "You do..?" She spoke softly. Her breathing became heavy. Tav went and wrapped her arms around him in a warm and comforting embrace. The world around them seemed to fade away as they held each other tightly.

At that moment, all of Astarion's doubts melted away as he felt genuine affection and acceptance from Tav. He couldn’t believe that she reciprocated his feelings, and it filled him with an overwhelming sense of joy and relief. As they sat there embracing each other, time seemed to stand still.

The hug spoke volumes without the need for words. It conveyed a deep connection between them, finally acknowledging their feelings for each other. It was a moment of vulnerability and trust, where they could let down their guards and allow themselves to be open to the possibility of love. After all, Tav was Astarion's first consensual sex affair where he didn't worry about Cazador. He could not ever imagine taking her to him. She actually made Astarion feel love. This made him only want to protect her from any harm.

"I promise I'll make this sound better when you're not out of your damn mind." Astarion held her close. It was such a refreshing feeling to love someone instead of loathing someone. He felt the heat of his cheeks flush, and Tav tugged on his sleeve.

"C-Can I kiss you, Astarion?" The way she looked at him with those eyes of hers. Big, full of lust. He saw this same look the night they had sex.

He chuckled cockily, "You couldn't help yourself? I would like that." No one ever asked for his permission, it was admired greatly by him. His lips covered hers in a swift motion, and a soft smooch was placed on her lower lip. Her skin was so warm compared to his, and it only made him yearn more for that warmth.

There they were, in an atmosphere lushed with glowing plants as they held each other tightly in its nature. They kissed each other until it got sloppy, their breaths going in haste. Astarion pushed his body over hers, forcing her back onto the soft moss.

Astarion gazed down at Tav. It took him back to that night, how beautiful she looked under the moonlight, and how beautiful she still looked now. He felt lucky to have met such a beauty, she had a charm he only saw from royalty. The kind that has people swooning over her hand, begging to make her their beloved. Not many people could say they bestowed these kinds of looks.

"Astarion?" a whisper left her lips, cutely yet— begging. Her eyes averted from his and she felt her body tense. No mushroom could mask her lust for Astarion's touch, it was written all over her face. Her little trembles of excitement gave it away.

"Just say the words, love. You know I can give you all the pleasures, Your wish is my command." His hands traveled up and down her thigh, caressing her skin tenderly.

Tav nodded as a shiver ran up her spine from his touch. She spoke with a soft tone, one that begged for him tenderly, "I need your touch."

"As do I." He hovered over her small stature, placing his lips gently on hers. A soft kiss it was. It was different from their last kiss because that one was just lust. This kiss had a heart in it, so naturally it felt so much better. Especially when the warmth of her blood heated his cold lips.

Astarion shut his eyes tightly, and a tingle ran up his spine. The passion from the kiss scrambled his mind because why did love feel this good? Love never felt good. Cazador claimed all of his spawns were a family, something to love. That was no love. But Tav, however, felt completely different. Even regular sex felt amazing, which was also just bland for him.

Astarion kissed her lips until they couldn't no more. Both gasped for air as their adrenaline ran threw their bodies. Astarion's shaft pushed hard into the seam of his pants, and it poked her inner thigh. He then adjusted himself so that he wasn't poking at Tav anymore.

"I want to save that for later, my dear. A day when you can wake up and remember it. So you can come to me in the morning with flushed cheeks and a racing heart." Astarion didn't want to sour a moment where he could make love and not just have sex. He'd rather wait for Tav to be completely aware of herself.

Tav nodded in agreement. Her body felt like she was floating on a cloud. Her high still clouded her mind, and her body still yearned for him. "Could you suppose still spoil me...?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Cheeky aren't we?" His hand raced down her curves, exploring the warmth of her skin, "I suppose I can, pet." Without a thought, Astarion swiftly tugged down Tav's pants. He pulled her legs apart so that her core was to full access to him.

His lips planted kisses all over her neck. The heat of his rough breaths hit Tav's skin, causing her goosebumps to crawl all over. All the while Astarion's hand was caressing over her folds. His fingers moistened as it stroked over her slit. Tav let out small moans as his fingers rubbed her clit. His motions were skilled, almost like a second nature to him.

“M-mphh…” Tav clutched onto the cloth of his shirt. His kisses grazed over her neck tenderly, and he nibbled on the lobe of her ear, “How does that feel?” He spoke in a breathy tone.

“Amazing.” She purred. Her legs twitched from Astarion’s touch. She became sensitive and more wet as he circled around her clit. He seemed pleased with the performance Tav was giving, the moans were a validation for him. But he wanted feel more of her.

With two fingers, he slipped it into her entrance. Tav gasped out of pleasure, the feeling was all too much and she spreader her legs more for him. He bucked his hand in and out of her. The warmth of her walls encased around his fingers, begging for more.

Tav cupped Astarion’s face, pulling him into a kiss that was muffled between her moans. His tongue danced with hers, a sweet taste he’s been thinking about the day they first kissed. Her back arched for him more, and it was granted, a third finger slipped into her and she pulled away from the kiss. A pleasurable wince left her lips and Astarion looked at her with red piercing eyes. He enjoyed watching her crumble under him. It made him feel powerful.

Tav’s head hung back as moans and groans left her mouth like a lyric to a song only Astarion could produce. Her wet core made it easier for him to fuck her with his fingers fast and swiftly. His arm burned as it continuously fucked her, he didn’t break his motion while beads of sweat formed on his temples.

Astarion suddenly lowered his head, he kept his fingers in her, and now his tongue was over her clit. His saliva trailed down between her inner thighs as her moans grew more intense. Her hand gripped a chunk of his hair, forcing his face closer into her core.

His tongue played with her clit, rubbing it in circles as his fingers thrusted in and out of her. An intensity swelled in her lower stomach, she gripped Astarion hair tighter as her finish comes to a near.

“F-fuck! Ahh— S-starion..” her back arched more and more against his face, like a two magnets attracting each other. His steamy breath huffed against her sex, awarding him with more groans. It was absolute bliss for Astarion. It was his first time spoiling someone like this. It felt so intimate and so passionate. If this is what sex felt like with a lover, he wanted to do it over and over again.

Tav yelled out a final moan of pleasure before releasing onto Astarion’s face. His tongue dragged along her folds, licking up any wetness he could as if he was drinking blood. He kissed her moistened core, he then picked up his head from between her legs.

Astarion used the back of his hand to wipe the cum off his mouth, his eye contact was like daggers. “Mmm…That taste of yours. It’s amazing.” He wrapped his fingers around the band of her pants, and pulled them up. Cleaning her up was a love language for him. To destroy someone sexually and then cleaning up the mess he caused, it was so liberating. Especially since it was Tav.

Tav sat up, her skin moistened red on her cheeks, “you’re too good at that. Do it again.” Tav teased him. She liked to have fun with Astarion even at the most tense of times.

“Cheeky pup. You might get tired of me if I keep spoiling you like this, however I couldn’t imagine ever getting bored of that taste of yours. You’re magnificent.” His finger stroked the side of her face softly. “Shall we get some rest? You’ll be needing it tomorrow when you’re sore.”

💤

The next morning Tav woke up with an aching head and also…a soreness between her legs? She brushed off the feeling and greeted her fellow camp members. Gods was she never touching another mushroom ever again. She pretty much went blank but she remembered a faint memory of Astarion face. But, she couldn’t tell if it was a wet dream or not.

She yawned and went to stroll around the camp to chat. When she made her rounds to Astarion he flashed her a welcoming smile, waaay nicer than he usually was, “Well look who we have here. How’d you sleep my dear?”

Tav pleasantly nodded her head to his kind words. “It was strange…but much needed. How did you sleep?”

“Wonderful. I wanted to say thank you for last night. It was…an experience I won’t forget.” He clicked his tongue softly. His face was smug and he walked away from Tav, who fell silent.

Her heart dropped in her chest and it all clicked together. The soreness, the stickiness she felt in her pants, and Astarion being extra nice. A moment she had alone with him and she could barely remember what was said. Tav was mentally cursing herself in her head. She was very fond of him and honestly, she wanted to figure out their dynamic. Only Astarion could tell the tale of their late night affair, but for now, Tav wondered all about her wet dream. Or so she thought.

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage !

[lozchi]

I was looking around and I was wondering. What if Taehun had a loser girlfriend who's literally the complete opposite of him. Like she's wayyy nicer then him (too nice), probably a push over, and not that smart. But she's the comfort he wants ykyk I'M SORRY I'M THAT LOSER GF I JS WANT A MAN LIKE TAEHOON

Dummy!

A/N: worry not, anon. I'm that loser GF too. 😭 This'll be shorter than my usual, forgive me. I loved writing this so much though. 🫀🥹

Pairing: Taehoon Seong x F!Reader

Themes: reader being an idiot. if you're familiar with my writing, there is always swearing.

To some, it’s baffling how one could fall for Taehoon Seong out of all people. He’s a pretty guy with captivating eyes and graceful movements, nghhh~ he's undeniably irresistible, isn't he? Every girl around him would think the same, swooning left and right due to his insane visuals -- Tsk! He's gorgeous! And you weren’t any different. In fact, you were his biggest simp.

It was a curious pairing, to say the least—Mr. Bad Boy and Miss Too-Good-For-Your-Own-Good.

Taehoon strode into the room with the kind of attitude that made people step aside. His arrogance and aggression were palpable. “Do I look like a fuckin’ bank to ya? I ain’t lending 7000, got it? Now scram before I beat the shit outta ya.”

You, on the other hand, were the epitome of kindness and generosity. “Sure! You can borrow 200,000 won from me! Just pay it as soon as you can!” Yeah, incredibly dumb too, unfortunately.

Taehoon had an uncanny ability to read people like an open book. “You think I’m stupid enough to fall for that?” He’d snap, seeing through deceptions with ease.

Meanwhile, “Always happy to help!” You remained blissfully unaware of how people took advantage of you.

Taehoon lived by his own rules, always favoring his own brand of logic. “I’m doing this my way. It’s more efficient.” he would declare, unyielding in his methods.

And then there was you, grappling with concepts that seemed beyond your grasp. “Fuck this shit, I don’t understand a thing!”

“It’s math.” He'd say, almost bemused.

“I hate it.” you’d retort, your frustration evident.

“Those are just numbers.” he would explain.

“Fuck numbers, bruh!” you’d respond, exasperated.

“USE THE THEOREMS, GOD DAMN IT!”

“WHAT THEOREMS!?!” you’d cry out in desperation.

In physical prowess, he was unmatched, while you... Uhh... “How many more laps? It’s been ages!” you’d complain during your grueling training sessions.

“It’s been 5 fucking minutes, y/n,” he’d respond, barely breaking a sweat.

You were expressive, a fucking drama queen. While he remained, well, Taehoon.

When you’d proclaim, “I love you!” your heart on your sleeve, he’d respond with a gruff, “Of course I feel the same, dummy.”

A small injury would elicit your dramatic reaction: “Ouch! That stings!” while he’d barely bat an eye and say, “Be careful next time, you dimwit.”

You might sob over a movie, your emotions spilled out loud, and he’d- “Boooo. 0 stars. Too many plot holes. ”

Sometimes, vulnerability hits you, “Ugly crying in my bed right now,” and he’d cut through the sadness with an - “Alright, who the fuck hurt you?”

Happiness flowed from you like a river when you were with him. “I’m so happy when I’m with you~” To which he’d retort, “Same-- Ugh! Will you wipe that grin off?”

When you voiced how something hurt you, he’d reply bluntly, “Sometimes we just have to suck it up.”

“Can’t you be a little more sensitive?” But he'd always try. “I’m trying to understand where you’re coming from.”

And in the wake of betrayal, you’d lament, “Aughh, I just didn’t expect her to backstab me like that, I’m so stupid!” He’d offer a rough kind of comfort, “Want me to kick her in the ass?”

But beneath all these differences—your gentleness against his toughness, your warmth melting through his cold exterior—there was balance.

There was love.

There was harmony.

If it wasn’t already clear, he needed you just as much as you needed him.

From time to time, Taehoon shows his vulnerable side. You have to remember, he's just a human being and he can't always keep up his tough guy persona.

He grapples with uncertainties, worried that without caution, he could distance himself from you and ultimately be left alone.

He carries a burden of past mistakes that weighs heavily on his shoulders. It's an injury he seldom recognizes, yet it impacts all his decisions in a subtle way.

The thought of his previous mistakes coming back to trouble him and harming his loved ones worries him deeply.

However, despite feeling clearly insecure, Taehoon, being Taehoon, decides to never address it openly.

These ideas, though, are simply possibilities. He always puts in the effort to avoid making mistakes.

You understand there’s more beneath the surface and always offer him gentle reassurance.

“Taehoon, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. I’m with you, no matter what.”

In his own way, he cherishes the balance you bring to his life.

After all, even a bad boy needs a good girl to keep him grounded.

As you look at him, with all his imperfections and flaws, you smile and say, “I love you.”

And he looks back at you with a rare, genuine smile and replies, “Yeah, I love you too, dummy.”

[eureka-its-zico]

Commitment Part 2

Summary: After finding out the truth about who Jungkook really is, your world - and everything you thought you knew - comes crashing down. Do you begin to give in to your new captive situation, or do you continue to fight? The choices no longer seem so easy when you feel betrayed by the one you love…

A/N: Let’s be real: I bet a lot of you never thought there would be a second part to this (its a far assumption). But I’ve decide to make this a small series, maybe two or three more parts. I hope that this chapter feels worth the wait, and I hope it makes you excited for things to come. As always, thank you for stopping by, for reading, and hopefully, enjoying my work. Much love, Jenn.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, Detective Reader, enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, mutual pining

Warnings: mentions of violence, sexual content (its smut, y’all), graphic violence, slight dom behavior, fingering, cunnalingus, almost p in v.

Previous

If it wasn’t for the searing pain that exploded behind your eyes you could’ve sworn - for a brief moment - that you were home. Safe at home in bed beside Jungkook, who was currently running his fingers softly through your hair. If he wasn’t peppering your jawline with kisses to wake you he was most definitely running his fingers through your hair. 

You’d come to expect it. Your body responded in kind by nuzzling up beside him and claiming his lips with your own. 

Morning breath be damned. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t take your body long to remind you that the bed you were lying in didn’t belong to you. The pain pulsating inside your skull wasn’t just a killer migraine. God - you wanted to believe it was a bad dream and that you’d open your eyes and find yourself nestled against Jungkook’s chest with fresh coffee waiting for you on your nightstand. 

The dried blood crusted somewhere in your hair and swollen lip reminded you that you weren’t that lucky. The only real thing you knew for sure was that Jungkook was in the room with you.

How did you know this? While you weren’t in your shared bed, sunlight drifting through the curtains to remind you it was time to start the day, you could feel fingers playing carefully through your hair. The pattern his fingers took, the way he gently moved through each strand to make sure his fingers didn’t catch it - pull it out of place - was something specifically Jungkook. 

Now, Jungkook was taking even more care not to hurt you. His fingers moved achingly, slowly, through your hair making sure to avoid the throbbing wound. 

You wanted to pull away from him. To open your eyes and scream at him while smashing your fists into his chests. You wanted answers - needed them to clear your conscience that what happened back at the station wasn’t your fault. 

You wanted to hear him say he wasn’t the devil and you weren’t the fool. 

But you couldn’t face him. Sure. You were filled with rage from being deceived, but had he really deceived you? Or had you simply deceived yourself? 

All the red flags were there that his story didn’t make sense. The odd hours. The mysterious phone calls that sent him racing for the door half-dressed with promises to return. When he did come back, he wouldn’t let you touch him - come close to him - until after he showered. He’d ask simple questions over morning coffee about cases that you weren’t sure you’d ever talked to him about. 

All the red flags were flown in your face, and you chose to overlook every single one for a handsome face and great dick. It wasn’t just that, was it? No. Somewhere along the line you both became too entangled; tethered to the same cord that strangled you both. 

Maybe that’s why when he cupped your cheek your body instantly turned into him. You hated him - loved him - were hopelessly devoted to him all at the same time. All those emotions would tear you to pieces as surely as your rage would. 

“Kitten - I know you’ve been awake for the last five minutes. Look at me.” 

“Oh, I’ll look at you, alright,” you snarled. 

You allowed all that anger - your brimming hatred - to burn in your gut. It gave you enough courage to do something either incredibly brave or plain stupid. You opened your eyes just enough to meet his gaze before your teeth sunk down into the soft flesh of his palm. 

In a split second, the love that blossomed in his eyes as you looked at him wilted and replaced itself with a lightening of rage. Jungkook tried to shake his hand loose from between your teeth but it caused you to bite down harder. Never once did he yell or sound out his pain. It should’ve warned you that this flame would burn you. 

You never were one to listen. 

Jungkook tried one last time to violently shake his hand free, and when it failed his hand smacked down across your face. The ringing in your ears was deafening and caused your vision to blur. Your jaw loosened enough for him to slip his hand free, and the taste of copper flowed like a river across your tongue. 

“Don’t ever call me ‘Kitten’ again,” you snapped, spitting blood onto the cold concrete floor.

“Anything else - Kitten.” 

The bastard was smirking. Gone was the unholy look of rage that could destroy whole cities and back was the coy softness you’d grown to expect from him. 

 “Yeah. Don’t fucking touch me either.” 

You expected him to snap. To bare teeth and tell you who you belonged to. Instead, all you got in return was that infamous smirk that spoke louder than words: he thought you were all talk. All venom that dripped from the pain of knowing you did belong to him. Even now with your body radiating with the urge to strike him you knew all it would take was one touch of his lips against yours and your fight would end. 

“We both know you don’t mean it.”

“Don’t I? You’re a liar, Jungkook. A fucking psychopath.”

A sigh left him as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The smirk now gone as he regarded you with raised brows and a look of indifference. His reaction telling you plainly that you were overreacting. 

“It’s a little late to try and act like a forensic psychologist, don’t you think?” 

“I’ve been to your crime scenes! I’ve seen the fucking carnage that you leave behind. Shit that would make Ed Gein look like a fucking Saint!” 

God. You wanted to keep it together and act as cold as he portrayed himself to be, but how could you? Jungkook had become eerily still. For the first time since you’d realized who he was you felt scared. 

“A psychopath you took to your bed. Who lived in your house, and cooked you dinners with the same hands that were held finger deep by your clenching pussy were also the same ones used to maim and murder. Tell me, Kitten, did it feel better being fucked by a psychopath than the straight and narrow pricks you allowed in your bed?”

You allowed the fear you felt to turn into stone cold dread as it dawned on you that they’d been watching you from the beginning. That he was mentioning your old partner, Christian, that you’d had a relationship with before it turned sour. Before he began to care more about having you sit at a desk job instead of being in the field chasing after bad guys. Bad guys like Jungkook. 

For all the dread that corroded your veins they were stoked to life with a rage so incredibly potent you could’ve sworn, for a moment, you went blind. 

“Get. Out.” When Jungkook showed no signs of moving you grabbed the only pillow off the cot bed and flung it as hard as you could. He dodged it easily. “Get the fuck out! I don’t want to see you ever again. You hear me? I hate you!” 

“No you don’t-“

“Don’t you tell me what I feel, Jungkook!”

“You wish you could hate me, Kitten, but you can’t.”

“Watch me. I’m going to get out of here and I’m putting your narcissistic, psychotic ass in prison for the rest of your unnatural fucking life. Afterwards, I’ll find someone to fuck to wash you completely out of my system! Marry them-”

When you first started your rant, Jungkook was smug. The cockiness of his belief that you couldn’t hate him - couldn’t move past him - kept his shoulders squared in confidence until his eyes met yours. Whatever he saw there - the raw determination - was enough to make that confident facade drop leaving only something much worse in its wake. Your bratty words meant to wound him only stoked a fire that threatened to burn entire cities.

He took a threatening step towards you as his hands dropped from inside his pockets. His fists clenching and unclenching in time with the ticking of his jaw. You wanted to put as much space between you two as possible, but you didn’t want to back down either. 

“I have never loved someone like I love you. Do you understand that? You are mine. And if you think I’m ever going to let you go, you got another thing coming, sweetheart. I am not letting you go.” Jungkook was standing in front of you now. His body dropped down just enough to meet you at eye level as he breathed one final promise across your lips, “Ever. I will burn down a thousand fucking cities looking for you, if I have too.” 

You braced yourself for a kiss that never came. Your pulse felt like at any moment it would burst from your neck. Jungkook noticed. He always did and that seemed to be enough for him, because he didn’t kiss you. He simply pushed back on his feet and turned towards the cell door. He called out and a man dressed in all black with an m16 strapped across his chest appeared. Jungkook shot you one last look as the guard opened the door, and allowed him to pass through just before he began to lock it again. 

Jungkook was still looking at you when he spoke to the henchman. “Don’t you fucking go in there with her. Don’t you let anyone in there unless it’s been cleared with me first.” 

“Sir, what about Namjoon-“

“I said cleared with me first. Got it?”

The man nodded his head too many times. Enough to make you wonder if he’d given himself whiplash before Jungkook spared you one last glance before disappearing back inside the depths of whatever fresh hell you’d put yourself in. 

When you continued to wake up still breathing on the cot, you were surprised. Okay. You were a whole lot of surprised. You half expected to be a lifeless corpse rising from a trash heap than to be found tucked inside bedsheets. It didn’t take you long to know why you weren’t dead yet nor was it a surprise 

It felt like you’d been awake for hours. Your eyes helplessly combed over every painted brick of the walls for any sign of weakness. Without an actual clock inside your makeshift prison there was plenty of room for error when it came to time frames. It could've simply been hours since you’d been in the cell. But because of the trauma you’d sustained to your head - the possible unseen damage - it could’ve been days. The thought alone causes your stomach to somersault violently into your throat. 

Since you woke up that first time and had your spat with Jungkook, he hadn’t returned to visit you. The guards at your cell, however, still followed his orders. Most of them wouldn’t even look at you. 

The headache you’d been nursing with the palm of your hand since you woke up continued to be a nagging friend. It’s persistent poking and prodding against your temple caused your vision to shift into doubles at the worst times. Mostly, those worst times accumulated down to when you were pacing in your cell. The game plan you’d come up with kept constantly changing -forming- and retaking shape. 

When you first awoke in the dank cell, you were quick to notice you were lying on a cot. It’s placement in one of the corners of the room's brick walls made it easy for you to determine the only thing inside it was you and the cot. The exposed lightbulb above the room swaying at odd times. As if the ground above shook with the same rage you felt building in your chest. 

There weren’t any windows, and instead of metal bars there was just a door. It’s rusted exterior letting you know wherever you’d been taken too was very old. No windows and no open metal framework told you simply that yelling for help was out of the question. You weren’t surprised: you’d been reading their files for years. If they didn’t keep you closed off from the rest of civilization, you’d have questioned the whole thing. 

You started feeling the grooves in between the bricks. Every single one painted over in gunmetal grey to make the cell appear darker. Whatever light the flickering bulb above gave off was consumed and tinted by lighted shadow. 

It took everything you had to concentrate on feeling out the grooves for possible signs that the bricks were possibly lose. Or maybe even catch the slightest breeze - making its way through a large crack. You allowed yourself to hope. 

How stupid of you. 

With every inch and glide of your palms against the cool surface, you felt your heart beginning to sink. You were never getting out. The chances of you making it out on your own two legs and not a body bag was dwindling and your hysteria. Well, that was definitely beginning to spring to the surface. 

You’d just taken rapid steps back away from your latest attempt, the panic swelling up your chest was threatening to turn you feral. The only course of action you could think to do was to cause yourself pain. So, your hands flew up to grab at your head. The minute your finger scratched at the dull cut your vision exploded in pain - hissing past your lips with your eyes flinching at the thundering ache. The dried blood flaked down to your jacket, and you stared at the few flakes resting on your shoulder. 

The pain was bringing you out of your breakdown, but barely. You were running out of ideas - of options - when you heard the sound of a large deadbolt coming loose and right after a few larger bolts slid out of place. Your anxiety attack had placed you dead center in the middle of the room. 

The lightbulb’s glow painted you in a spotlight of sunburnt yellows - the blood on your hair and face made you feel like a wounded animal. Every click of a lock coming undone a time bomb to the Hunter coming in to finish the job. 

Your heart was back in your throat as you glanced around hopelessly for an object, anything to defend yourself, and came up short. With the last lock coming undone you decided you would wait for them to enter. Your muscles tensing up in your thighs as you prepared yourself to run at whoever it was. 

You prepared yourself as much as you could but when the door squeakily opened and Jungkook stepped through all your resolve faded. He was just standing there - like nothing happened - looking handsome as ever with a tray held with one hand. The entire night flashed before you. The deceit. The lies. The last conversation you had before he’d left the room. To see him standing there with that smug look on his face - the same one he gave you when he proved he was better at cooking, games, or sex irritated the shit out of you. 

All the dinners you cooked together in your shared kitchen. The trips you’d taken and the little notes you found inside your coat pockets or on the fridge and bathroom mirror. Was it all a lie? Was his smugness due to him winning the biggest game of all? 

The scream that you bottled up broke free as you charged towards him. You hated how unfazed he seemed - how amused. Jungkook wasn’t apologetic for tearing your world apart: for making you love him. If anything, he stood like a god before you. Gluttonous in his pride knowing you couldn’t do anything to him. 

You swung at him, realizing too late it was a wide swing. His hand came up in seconds to grab your swinging arm in mid-air. You were still moving forward with your momentum, unable to come to a stop, and Jungkook used it to twist your arm in his grip and bring you colliding into his chest. 

The tray of food and whatever else he’d carried was an afterthought as its content scattered all over the floor. You tried to wriggle out of his strong grip, but that only succeeded in making him hold on to you tighter. You could practically feel his muscles as they flexed under the shirt. 

“I told you, I didn’t want to see you again,” you seethed. 

“And I told you, Kitten, that I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Let me go, Jungkook. Let. Me. Go!” 

If you could’ve pounded on his big stupidity attractive chest you would have. Since you couldn’t, you settled for screaming in his face. You tried to take a step back, to try and gain some kind of leverage, when his free hand came up to grip the back of your head. He used that leverage to bring your face dangerously close to his. The wild look in his eyes made you grow incredibly still.

“I need you to get it through that thick skull of yours,” he used your name. Jungkook rarely ever used your name. “If you think for one second I am spending one second of my life without you, you are sadly mistaken.”

“You’re an idiot,” you gasped. You were not going to fucking cry right now. “Why would you want someone who doesn’t want you - who can’t stand the sight of you?” 

Jungkook dipped down and brushed the tip of his nose over yours. The gentle touch shocked you enough that you stopped moving; forgot to breathe.  

“When are you going to stop lying to yourself, Kitten? We were made for each other.”

You wanted to deny his statement. To remind him that he was not only a psychopath, but a delusional one at that, but was he the only delusional one in the room? Or was it you? 

You didn’t get a chance to dispute his claim. Using the hold he had on the back of your neck, Jungkook brought you the last couple inches closer and sealed his lips down on yours. 

The worst part about Jungkook kissing you was how your resistance completely crumbled. You knew he must have noticed it too - the way the fight slowly seeped out of your muscles. How easy it was for his tongue to spread your lips open to dive inside. The grip he’d held on your arm released, but Jungkook made sure he kept you secured to him. His hand on your neck pressing you painfully closer as the hand he’d removed from your wrist now dug its fingers into the soft flesh of your hips. 

You didn’t want him thinking that it was over for you; that he’d won. Your lust may have clouded your mind, but somewhere behind the cloud your common sense was screaming. Unfortunately, common sense was losing when his hand trailed up beneath your shirt to the swell of your breasts. Nimble fingers pulled down the cotton fabric of your bra to expose your nipples to him. 

Jungkook made quick work to take the bud between his thumb and index finger and applied the right amount of pressure. Just enough to make a moan gasp against his mouth right before he moved in to swallow the sound with another heated kiss. 

He pinched your nipple one last time sending a delicious shiver to shoot down your spine. Instantly, your pussy reacted to his touch. You knew if - when - he pulled down your pants Jungkook would find your underwear soaked. 

You weren’t sure what made you do it. Maybe you were annoyed by how easily he made you crumble at his touch. He was a monster. A killer. 

But he’s your monster. 

The thought made your blood run cold. The desire Jungkook had stoked inside you quickly disappeared as that thought haunted you. When you tried to pull away from his kiss, Jungkook’s grip on your neck refused to let you go. So, you did the only thing you could think of. 

You waited until his bottom lip pressed down into a pout to grab it with your teeth. You bit down hard enough for your tongue to be greeted with the taste of blood. A growl rumbled deep in chest; a sound he pressed with violent force against your lips. 

The kiss felt bruising as his hands dropped down to the back of your thighs. You were able to pull away from him enough to let out a small yelp of surprise when Jungkook’s hands grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up. Instantly, you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

His feet carried you over to the corner of the room. You expected to be thrown down on the cot. Your body tensed up as it waited for the coming drop, but it never came. Instead, Jungkook pushed you up against the cold stone of the wall with enough force it pushed a rush of air from your lungs. 

You were about to call out - the jolt of brief pain ready to escape from your mouth - when Jungkook crashed his lips back into yours. His hips rutted up into you. His cock hard and pressed into the fabric of his jeans. 

He controlled the movement with his hands on your hips. Half of your weight supported by the wall and his hips that he moved over your clothed sex. The friction of his clothed cock rubbed against your clit made you moan into the kiss. 

“You want to play rough, kitten,” he huffed against your lips. “I can play rough. I’ll be as rough as you want me to be.”

To prove his point, Jungkook traced his lips down to your neck. His tongue grazed from the hollow of your throat down towards your collarbone. When he reached your shoulder he sank his teeth down into the skin. You let out a small scream, your hands fisting into his hair, as you tried to tug him loose. 

Jungkook kept the pressure of his teeth firmly in their place and, using his hands on his hips, ground up into you. The jolt of pleasure that collided with the pain sent another moan spilling free from your lips. You were close to begging him to stop teasing - to give you what you wanted - but Jungkook seemed to know from the soft pleas that you hummed against his ear. 

Without warning, he peeled you from the wall and flung you both on top of the cot. Jungkook caught himself with his hands at the last second making sure he didn’t crush you against the mattress. You wouldn’t have cared. You couldn’t find time to care as he helped strip you of your jacket and shirt. Your own hands desperately trying to pull his shirt over his head so you could feel him bare and pressed against you. 

When your bra was removed and flung off your arms, Jungkook didn’t hesitate to take each breast in his hands. He dropped down and wrapped his mouth around a nipple. The feeling of his tongue flicking and swirling caused your body to arch into him. Your hands flew wildly to grab ahold of the strands of his hair - fingers curling and pulling as he took a nipple between his teeth. Jungkook made sure he took his time taking each nipple in his mouth; tongue swirling around the stiff peaks. 

You could feel his hand drift down your middle to the edge of your jeans. You didn’t try and fight him as his nimble fingers worked at the button of your jeans, and further down between the fabric and the lace of your underwear. 

When Jungkook’s fingers first felt between your folds - his fingers finding you soaked - he exhaled heavily.  His mouth made a loud pop as he disconnected from your breast with eyes hollowed with hunger meeting your own. 

“Fuck. You’re always so wet for me, Kitten,” he huffed. 

You weren’t sure how to answer him or if you even should. You hated him - wanted to believe you hated him - and everything he stood for. There was no denying, however, that you wanted him. It went beyond reason, because you couldn’t understand it. The only thing you did understand was when he pushed three fingers knuckle deep inside your aching pussy, your body turned molten with a need so deep that only Jungkook could sate. 

The lewd wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of you filled the room. The only other sound to try and cover that was your soft moans that only grew louder when Jungkook stripped your pants and underwear down over your thighs, and off your legs and buried his tongue between your folds. 

His tongue traced up from your entrance, and took his time licking his way up to swirl at your clit before giving a large stroke. This time you did scream as his tongue fucked you; stroked and sucked every inch of you until your legs quivered around him forcing your words to become incoherent. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. The need to be filled with him became overwhelming and, using his hair to pull him violently up, you asked, “Jungkook-“ you breathlessly pleaded, “Fuck me. Please.”

He looked up at you from between your legs. His pupils were blown out completely with lust. There was a moment where you wondered if he’d even heard you. There was no recognition in his face that he had heard you until a growl brushed past his lips, and he nipped at the inner corner of your thigh. You let out a sound of surprise as you tried to move back, but Jungkook kept you securely in place. 

“Is that what you want?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you, Jungkook.”

You thought he was going to ask more stupid questions. Couldn’t he see you were a fool for him? Couldn’t he see how much you needed him? At that moment, you were willing to beg him. You were ready to start doing exactly that when Jungkook suddenly moved up with his hands at his belt. His fingers were rapidly unbuttoning his jeans when a loud knock came at the door. 

Jungkook’s response was instant and animalistic. A snarl cut through the room that seemed to suspend time completely. The person behind the door no doubt shitting themselves for making a boldly stupid decision. 

“Whoever it is, you better have a good fucking reason for interrupting me,” he snapped. 

Again. Silence. You were willing to bet they’d run for safety, except you were wrong. 

“I’m sorry, boss, but Namjoon sent me down to find you. He needs you to come back to the lounge, and he requested you bring the prisoner with you.”

Jungkook had gone eerily still above you. The sexually charged air began to change as the lust that had been in his eyes was replaced by something darker; more dangerous. Suddenly, you felt too exposed to the room. Your hands meekly moved to try and cover your nakedness from the room, while Jungkook remained on his knees above you. His buckle loose at his waist and upper body bare. 

He seemed to be deciding whether to do as he was asked or tell them to fuck off. You’d learned, however, that while Jungkook was no doubt the unhinged part of Namjoon’s crew, he was loyal. You didn’t think he would deny a request from his leader, even for you. 

He let out a heavy sigh as he removed himself from the cot, his legs bending down slightly so he could scoop up his shirt and put it back on. 

“Tell him we’ll be there in five minutes.”

 While he didn’t sound happy about it, Jungkook was still going to be a good boy and do as he was told. 

“Namjoon asked for you to hurry-“ 

“Fuck off!” Jungkook snapped. A booted foot slammed against the metal of the door making everything grow still with fear. “I said it’ll be five minutes. Now go.” 

The sound of retreating feet filled the hall outside before Jungkook had even finished telling him to leave. Smart man. You swung your legs over the side of the cot and moved to start picking up your clothes when hands on your waist pushed you back against the wall. 

You looked up just in time to watch Jungkook fall to his knees between your legs. His hands grasping your left thigh to raise it up onto his shoulder. The angle left him closer to the mound of your sex. 

“Jungkook, what are you doing? You told them we’d be there in five minutes.”

The devilish smirk you knew all too well tilted the corner of his lips. The lust that was stripped away seconds ago coming back as his tongue lazy stroked between your folds coaxing a gasp to leave you. 

“I only need a couple to make you come.” 

Jungkook always was a man of his word. 

You walked down the hallways beside Jungkook as he led you through the large building. Wherever it was The Devils’ called home, it was a renovated industrial building. Maybe once upon a time, it had housed machinery of some kind to build cars or maybe make some sort of sweet treat that eventually closed down. Whatever the building was used for originally, it had been refurbished to house evil.

The cold original metal and brick of the interior has been kept with only a few choices of artwork, drapes around the windows, and furniture giving it a sense of life. To you, no matter what anyone tried to place in the building, it would still feel uninviting. 

Jungkook instructed you to follow him as he turned left at the next four way intersection of the building. His hand on your arm gently pulled you along and kept you close to him all at the same time. 

“When we get in there don’t speak unless he instructs you to speak.”

“I’ll speak when I want too,” you snapped, hating the idea of being good for any of them. 

Jungkook sent you a glaring look of warning as came to a set of double doors. 

“Don’t be stupid, Kitten. The only reason you’re still alive is because of me.”

“And should I be grateful for that?” You wanted to pull your arm out of his grip, but it felt silly to do that when you’d just come all over his tongue. 

Jungkook appeared to be having the same thought. 

“Yes. You should.”

That was all the reply Jungkook bothered to give you as he pushed open the door and ushered you inside. This room, whatever it had been, was more updated than what you’d previously seen. The walls were painted a warm tone and carpet was put in. Off to the counter was a large bar that had an actual bartender stuck behind the empty counter with a slew of couches placed like a large C inside the middle. 

Inside that large C is where your eyes found Namjoon. His body positioned in the center of the C and sitting patiently. The second the two of you entered his eyes were on you. The judgment in them was heavy and something that he wasn’t afraid to show. 

Namjoon didn’t seem to like you very much. Well, the feeling was mutual. Jungkook stopped you in the middle and released the grip he’d held on your arm. He moved away from you to go and stand off to the left of Namjoon with Yoongi being at his right. 

You hated being left there like some kind of fucked up prize. It wasn’t just the three of them and a bartender. No, scattered around the back of the lounge stood more lackey’s, the unimportant ones that were used as fodder when shit got heavy were scattered all around. Most of them wear shit eating grins as if your presence in their bad guy lair was just the funniest damn thing. 

You’d see who’d have the last laugh. 

“Welcome, Detective,” Namjoon’s voice boomed inside the room. His arms swept over the area as he attempted to smile in what he must have thought was a greeting. It looked more like a grimace. “I do hope you’ve been enjoying your stay here.” 

You considered him coolly as you thought of how to reply. Jungkook had instructed you to speak when spoken too; to play nice. You always did have an issue with doing what you were told. 

“Actually, it’s been shit,” you started with a shrug. “I’m just waiting to get out of here.”

“And why is that?”

Namjoon seemed to know why. He didn’t need to truly ask you. He was only doing it because he wanted to see if you’d have the guts to say it out loud. 

“You aren’t dumb. None of you are, and I’m willing to bet you all know exactly what I’m going to do when I’m out of here.”

“Kitten.”

One word. Jungkook spoke your pet name as a warning. His face and body had grown stiff as he took a cautious step towards you. Namjoon held up a hand to stop him, waving him back to stand in his spot. Jungkook didn’t like it. It was made apparent by the ticking of his jaw as he continued to watch. 

“No, no Jungkook let her speak. You think you are going to put us away?”

“Oh, I know I can.” You retorted, allowing yourself your own sickly sweet smile. “I won’t stop until I place every single one of you where you deserve.” 

“That's a noble little quest you’ve given yourself, but you’ve got your ideas of who’s good and who's bad backwards, I’m afraid.”

A snort of laughter left you. The disbelief evident on your face as you regarded the men around you. These men who had slaughtered droves of people; families even. Men who had tried to come forward to atone for the crimes they had committed, their conscience finally taking hold, only for you to find the entire home missing or dead. Hospital staff who had been gunned down along with rival gang leaders who’d been inside. 

The terror these men had caused and all for the name of what? Infamy? Power? Money? All the things that didn’t mean shit when you were six feet under. The thing that disgusted you the most wasn’t these men and their atrocities, but your own. 

The very man who was responsible for so much of that carnage had just been buried nose deep between your legs, and you’d let him. All the fight you’d claimed to have - the moral standing - completely went away when he touched you. Where was your resolve then? Where was your belief in Justice for those victims when his hands were digging into your hips and his cock buried inside you? 

Nowhere. 

Looking at him now you knew a part of you hated Jungkook, but the person you really hated was yourself. 

With your eyes roaming back to face down Namjoon, you square your shoulders and make sure your resolve shown through as you speak your next words.  

“I’ve seen your handiwork, and I know what kind of men you are. I meant what I said. I’m going to find a way out of here and when I do, I promise you until my very last breath, I will hunt you down and put you fucking animals where you belong.” 

You hadn’t realized you were shaking - that you’d taken a step towards him until Jungkook and Yoongi took a step with you. Good. Let them know you meant every word. That they weren’t the only boogeymen meant to be feared. 

Namjoon sat forward, his arms resting on his thighs, as he regarded you with a calculating eye. No longer did he think you were trying to talk tough because of your situation. Now, you were positive, he knew you meant every word and that maybe he should proceed with caution. 

“You’d lock up Jungkook, as well?”

He was testing you. Maybe it was a test meant to show Jungkook he shouldn’t have grown soft for you. That you didn’t care for him the way he did you. 

You wished that was the truth but, unfortunately, it was far from it. Maybe that’s why when you turn to look in Jungkook’s direction you will yourself to look callous; completely disregarding what resembled hurt that was scrunching across his brow. 

“All of you deserve to be in cages. No exceptions.” 

“We’ll, I guess we better make sure to keep you locked inside one yourself.” 

You knew that voice. 

Your back went rigid as your mind raced at the recognition of that voice. A part of you didn’t want to turn - to see - the betrayal you felt coming towards you like a speeding train. Unfortunately, this was something you couldn’t run from. 

Turning your head to your right, you watched as your Chief came into view. A smug smile showing all of his pearly white teeth like the Cheshire Cat who’d stumped you at your own riddle. The shitty part about that was that he had. 

You’d always suspected that The Devils’ had some form of inside help. Most gangs were good, but no one rivaled The Devils’ when it came to the amount of intel they seemed to have. When witness protection magically lost informants, or informants were found out while undercover. Good seasoned Detectives who had been doing this for years miraculously were caught with their body parts being dumped in front of the police station with rats festering inside the bags. 

At first, you thought it had been you. That these men and women had paid with their lives all because of some costly fling. The endless guilt of racking your brain wondering what you’d left out; let slip while grocery shopping or relaxing with him on the couch. 

And all along it had been Chief Ebert. 

“You fuckin’ traitor!” You snarled. 

Seconds later, your closed fist collided with his nose and a spurt of blood erupted like a spout. A sharp cry of pain filled the room as you launched yourself at him, but found arms securing themselves at your waist and pulling away. The fast movement off to your left let you know it wasn’t Jungkook who had grabbed you, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he didn’t like it one bit. 

“Jungkook - stay where you’re at,” Namjoon ordered. “Hyujin, restrain her.”

“I’d like to see you fucking try!”

You felt murderous. Your heart pounded like war drums inside your chest. In a matter of a day, two days, the amount of betrayal you’d experienced left your world spinning. With an even bigger question of, “Who could be trusted?” raging inside of your head. 

“You fucking bitch!” Chief Ebert muttered out. His fingers sloppily trying to stop the blood from running out. “I always knew you were psychotic.”

“That’s rich coming from a treacherous weasel,” you snapped back. “How much did you sell your honor for, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” he huffed. “Like you have any room to talk. When I requested for Jungkook to follow you to make sure he kept you off leads on investigations, I never would have thought it would’ve been that easy for him to fucking get to you.”

Another flash of red filtered over your vision. With a snarl you lashed out with your foot with your boot connecting with his chest shoving him down. 

“That is enough!” Namjoon’s voice boomed over the room. “Hyujin, take her back to her cell. Ebert get the hell up so we can get this over with.” 

You were still struggling as the lackey in question, Hyujin, walked you back down the long stretches of hallway Jungkook had just led you down. 

Did Ebert say he requested Jungkook to follow you? So, that night at the bar…Jungkook knew exactly who you were. He knew everything about you, because Ebert told Namjoon who had told him. 

Your mind tried to make sense of the carousel of deceit you kept finding yourself in. It struggled to find footing - on a course of action - but at the end of every idea the uncertainty of who could you trust came slamming home into your chest. Hyujin almost had you back to your cell when you finally made up your mind. While you weren’t sure who you could trust, you knew one thing - you could trust yourself. With your mind made up you took in a breath preparing for your next move. 

It was now or never. 

You let out a small scream as you slammed the heel of your foot down on top of the  guard's foot. When he bent down in predictable fashion, you brought your elbow up to crash against his face. It gave you just enough momentum to grab the m16 that was strapped around his neck, to grab at the strap, and move behind him, pulling it tight across his throat. 

It takes longer in real-life to choke someone into unconsciousness, even longer if you’re trying to kill them. Lucky for this guy you only meant to only do the first. When Hyujin finally stopped struggling, you removed the strap from around his throat, completely removing the gun from his body. You put the strap over your shoulder and went to work looking for keys. 

You found a walkie talkie and earbud and quickly put it on. While you didn’t plan on staying long enough to actually use it, it would come in handy as you tried to make your escape. 

After locating the keys, you plugged in the earbud and secured the radio to the back of your pants. With the gun held tightly in your hands, you started making your way back up the hallway in search of an exit. It was time to start your escape. 

Next

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you for reading! XoXo

[jayladfanpage]

OPENED the first page of Robin lives #3 and just EXPERIENCED EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

fuCK. LIKE. GENUINELY. FUCK. going to consume raw bismuth rn im sobbubg I had hopes after they showed Shelia and just F U C KKKKKKKKKKK

I think writers forget so much of what made adtif adtif and what made Robin Jason Robin Jason. that boy was willing to give up Robin at that point for just a loving family? The issues that led to adtif? WHAT ABOUT HIS whole struggle and issues with being robin itself? what are we even doing here. Nothing is addressed. Instead we get fucking revenge story after revenge story I'm going to implode die. now I feel stupid about waiting for it. I'm half incomprehensible about most of the things I HATED. DICK. What is he saying. God.

I miss u robin Jason, he was so much... a singular character... barr's run... starlin too to a degree... UGH. HIS CHARACTER THESIS IS LOVE ??? ON GOD I will consume 2 tons of pipebombs today fucking hell on god he barely gets dialog, he barely gets shit, I liked 1 panel and that s it im

Anyhow :D yippie ! Happy to see that you're here for fanon writers and all ! Super cool of you ! And your posts are vvv cool, much love ! Would love to hear your thoughts on Robin lives#3 :) <3

Anon you are so incredibly fucking real for this

Issue #3 is... such a fucking disappointment. Exactly like you said, already the first page makes my blood fucking BOIL.

There's a fundamental misunderstanding, in this issue, of where Red Hood!Jason's ideas of revenge come from. His obsession with Joker's death specifically isn't actually out of a need to have Joker dead, it's a need to prove to himself that Bruce loves him more than he loves his mission. Which is not true for Jason or any of Bruce's other children. Gotham will always come first.

So to have Jason go after Joker with the intent to kill him (and succeed at it!) is spitting in the face of all the complicated, messy familial ties that are at the core of UTRH, for the sake of some sense that Jason was always doomed to be the way he is as an adult.

Jason also doesn't feel good after killing people. He doesn't derive any pleasure from it. He's not disgusted by or ashamed of the things he's done, far from it, but to him the murders are just a means to an end. A task to complete if he wants to save Gotham in the way that Bruce isn't able to. Murdering people sure as fuck isn't the "best thing" to ever happen to him. What the fuck.

I also really hate this page. As much as I don't expect any teenager to fully "deal" with their trauma, because they're a teenager, Jason certainly wouldn't run from it. Jason is perhaps the most openly emotional Bat character, and that's always been one of his most important personality traits. He talks about his pain and his trauma, constantly and endlessly, because Jason benefits from communicating his emotions, even if he does it aggressively or explosively.

Plus, "paralyzed with fear" ?? Jason's fear response is FIGHT not freeze. It's never been freeze. Every time Jason is scared, as Robin or otherwise, he responds by picking a fight. He flings himself head-on to the thing that's making him afraid because god fucking damn it Jason has always been good at saving himself -- which is why he's so desperate to have Bruce kill Joker, so that somebody else will protect him for a change.

This plot I'm conflicted on. I've always hated Timmy Todd and always thought that Jason should have been Joker Junior instead. However, this was not the comic to do it in. Robin Lives should have been a comic about trauma and vulnerability and healing. Main Continuity already gives us the neverending loop of Jason's trauma, of how it keeps constantly getting worse and worse, and I wanted Robin Lives to have been different. I wanted it to grab me by the shoulders and say He could have been fine. Jason could have healed. If only things had been different, Jason Todd could have been good.

But it didn't. It's just another fucking Cheer storyline where we read about a child being "doomed from the beginning" and shifting the blame of Red Hood onto Jason for being a lost cause instead of acknowledging the greater context of Jason's death and revival and it's just. Ugh. It fucking sucks.

Also, Bruce would never say this about saving like a dozen children. "Bigger fish to fry" WHILE HE IS RESCUING BRAINWASHED CHILDREN? where is my Bruce Wayne and what did you do to him

About the fanon writers -- thank you! I always find the hate for them a little misplaced. There are dozens of canons across hundreds of comics and fanfiction as a medium is supposed to have a certain degree of separation from its source. I think a lot less people would be upset over "fanon" batfam fics if the writers understood better core traits of the characters. Fanfiction isn't about "Would [x] do this" it's about "How would [x] do this" and a lot of non-writers don't understand that and just think fanon is always horrible.

[can-of-w0rmz]

One of the things that piss me off the absolute most about popular academic Frankenstein analysis is the “Victor Frankenstein is sexist” take. Like I know I’ve spoken about this quite a lot before but god damn it’s like people just look at the text and see, “(I) looked upon Elizabeth as mine—mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed on her I received as made to a possession of my own.”, and they just immediately go, “Oh! Oh! Sexism! Misogyny! Victor Frankenstein is a sexist! Why does he want to create the perfect man, huh? *gasp* is it because he thinks women are inferior?”

When if those people pulled their heads out of their asses for five minutes and read the rest of that paragraph, “On the evening previous to her being brought to my home, my mother had said playfully, “I have a pretty present for my Victor—tomorrow he shall have it.” And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine (…)” along with the fact that Victor explicitly says he was “about five years old”, they’d maybe consider, “huh, maybe it’s very fucked up of a mother to give her to her son as a gift and spent her entire life basically shipping these two adopted siblings together until, on her death bed, she says, “my firmest hopes of future happiness were placed on the prospect of your union. This expectation will now be the consolation of your father.” Wow, maybe that’s kind of fucked up. Maybe painting, again, a five year old, who was honesty for all intents and purposes pretty much just manipulated into thinking it was his duty to marry his adopted sister out of respect for his dead mother’s last wishes who died when he was seventeen, as a wife-beating woman hater who reanimated the dead to spite half the human population, is very very fucked up!”

Like I can’t stress this enough – both Elizabeth and Victor are victims here. Of course as the story goes on a bit and Victor is a grown adult man who’s still avoiding his feelings and fucking off across the continent with his buddy pal best friend every five minutes instead of facing his mistakes and emotions, yeah, he is honestly more or less to blame for Elizabeth’s death, but that isn’t misogyny. Avoidance of everything is like one of his integral character flaws.

And I mean if you thought the 1831 republication had some creepy undertones, look at the bloody original 1818 version.

“(My uncle) request(ed) my father (…) take charge of the infant Elizabeth, the only child of his deceased sister. “It is my wish,” he said, “that you should consider her as your own daughter, and educate her thus.”’

So just explicit incest, basically. And again, if you thought Victor’s mother was a bit creepy and pushy in the republication,

“I have often heard my mother say, that she was at that time the most beautiful child she had ever seen, and shewed signs even then of a gentle and affectionate disposition. These indications, and a desire to bind as closely as possible the ties of domestic love, determined my mother to consider Elizabeth as my future wife; a design which she never found reason to repent.”

“………A desire to bind as closely as possible the ties of domestic love?” My brother in Christ you were groomed. Fun fact, I read the 1818 version first and read that in the middle of form class and sat for a good five minutes staring flabbergasted at what the fuck I was reading.

So no, dear God no, nowhere in the text does it imply Victor Frankenstein hates women. I mean honestly it’s kind of shown in the way he talks about the Creature’s Bride that he doesn’t view women as objects and does, in fact, view them as people.

“He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood of man and hide himself in deserts, but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation.”

My guy basically says “well what are we expecting her to do here, immediately marry you just because she was told to?”

(Just a fun little comparison I noticed there – not to turn the conversation back to my whole “does Victor is gay” theory but I think it is interesting that Victor thinks that, that he does go “well she can’t just be expected to marry someone just because she was told to!” and then suggests to himself that she would probably rather “turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man” – interesting, Victor. Like Clerval’s “form so divinely wrought, and beaming with beauty”? Interesting as well that after Victor comes to that conclusion and destroys the Bride, the Creature immediately then kills Henry and only then does Victor finally go “well. I finally have to marry Elizabeth.” Feeling disheartened by sparing her your predicament only to be thrust even deeper into your own, are we?)

But yeah. “Victor Frankenstein is a full-blown women-hating misogynist” takes really piss me off. Another case of “oooh yes let’s cherry pick the text scouring it for anything we can possibly use to turn things back around to the same few analysis points we’ll reuse over and over instead of possibly considering that just because a text is written by a woman doesn’t mean that it’s a massive rant on the patriarchy disguised as a science fiction novel.”

Maybe that’s kind of sexist itself. Maybe women can just write kick-ass gothic horror sometimes. And maybe just because a work definitely has undertones about sexism and misogyny (like, fair enough, a lot of Elizabeth’s character definitely does) that doesn’t mean that the male protagonist wants to kill all women! And surprise surprise as well, works can comment on misogyny and patriarchy and acknowledge that women are treated badly in society and have been in differing ways for hundreds of years, without going “all men are inherently evil and fuck them all”. Bit of a side rant that I won’t go all into here, but just worth mentioning that after seeing this over and over again in media and analysis of media over and over again, hey, misandry won’t fix misogyny. It just makes everything considerably stupidly worse. –your friendly neighbourhood bisexual

[vanquishedjelly]

Mission Accomplished

HellBoy x Reader

Summary- You and HellBoy have been flirting back and forth. Waiting for each other to make a move. Battling to see who will react first. What will happen when you take the flirting up a notch?

A/N- I love the thought of how flirty HellBoy is, and I love the thought of someone else flirting just as much with him (if not more) and so my imagination took hold. Enjoy!

It's been a few years since I've joined B.P.R.D. When I was asked to join I didn't think I would be of much use. I only have Intention/Emotion Sense, both of which I couldn't see being useful on missions, but nevertheless they ushered me to join and I am so glad they did. When I first met Abraham and HellBoy I was blown away by their abilities (and their looks, not gonna lie). Almost feeling slightly lesser than, but Abe was the first to speak up and quickly dismissed those thoughts (which is how i found out he could read minds… crazy, right?) HellBoy on the other hand was kind of stand off-ish?.. is the only way I can put it. His Emotion showed neutrual- no like nor dislike- like he didn't expect me to be around for very long, so he didn't really see the need in putting much time in friendly conversation. Understandable. The first few months it was just me and Abe, goofing about. Normally talking about the books in the library, the missions he and HellBoy has been on- which HellBoy made sure to chime in every now and then to add small details in the stories as he could. Or just chilling- Abe in his tank munching on his god awful smelly eggs and me sitting in the big chair in the library with my phone talking about whatever crossed our minds. Slowly but surely HellBoy started sitting down with us in the library, speaking up a lot more about stories, or even asking my thoughts on random things. I was curious and I felt his intentions, wholeheartedly friendly and emotions were slightly nervous at times, so I opened up to his interactions quickly. After that, me and him talked damn near on a daily basis. Finding out how much of a flirt he was and how much of a goofball he was, was a rollercoaster to say the least- especially on my first mission. Oh lord… You should've seen his face when I started flirting back just as much. I didn't even need to sense to see how surprised he was.

_ "Hey, (y/n), you still with us?" I quickly look up from my forgotten book, staring wide eyed at HellBoy, who was leaning against the door frame. It wasn't hard to sense that his intention was to find me. "Ok, I gotta know what you're thinkin' bout to get that look on your face." He says, his laughter showing through his tone. I tilt my head, "I had a look on my face?" He nods, "yeah, smilin' from ear to ear," he motions his finger towards my face, "and with that far away look, i know it wasn't because of what you're reading." I laugh and shrug slightly, "didn't know i was so easy to read." I sigh, the same reminiscing smile reappears on my face, "just remembering my first few months here." I close the book in my lap and set it aside as HellBoy walks further into the library, almost towering over me. "yeah, I remember the look you gave me when i walked into the room." He says, "the way I saw your pupils dilate." He whistles in emphasis, " I just know you was marveling in how hot i was." I huff out a laugh. "Oh, ab-so-lutley!" staring up at him, "I was so hot and bothered i didn't know what to do with myself." i half joke, fanning myself. He lets out a hearty laugh. "so, you've found me, what'd you need?" I ask "Manning has another" he makes air quotations, " 'Gas leak' for us to fix before it gets too outta hand." I nod, "He needs all of us in the meeting room in 30 minutes to talk about the details." I stand up, "alright, gives me the perfect amount of time to take a shower and get ready." I say absentmindedly walking towards the door with him in tow. "without me?" he says, I can hear his grin in his voice. "yes, without you." I whip around, halting him in his tracks. I run my hands up and down his chest in sensual motions "baby I'd take my time with you, so I don't think we'd make it to the meeting." I smirk. I can basically see the wheels turning in his head, imagining all the things that would entail that moment. "Is that a promise?" He says, his voice in between a whisper and a growl. I can physically feel his arousal build. "Maybe." I smile. He takes a quick intake of breath. 'gotcha' I think to myself. "but," I say, slightly pulling away, "I don't wanna hear Mannings' bitching about us running late." He growls. He raises his hands, about to wrap his arms around my waist, but I whip around and start walking away before he can. I smile to myself as I can feel how frustrated he is.

Mission accomplished.

[httpscomexe]

Muzzle

Summary: Barnes figures out how to shut you up and end your sarcastic comments, and you’re sure he’ll use it against you in the future.

(Find what I'm currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: (My English can be kinda bad) Bad language, weapons, violence, attempted smut. There will be individual warnings every chapter.

Tags: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10

Word Count: 2522 (Find all chapters here) Discontinued

Okay, so what if you accidentally brainwashed the Winter Soldier? You wouldn’t have even known you had done that unless he told you. You didn’t know he would be absolutely obsessed with you, you didn’t know he was stalking you, and you definitely didn’t expect him to want YOU of all people. You’ve read the news lately, and you’ve watched it too of course, you weren’t a weirdo, you’re living in the 21st century after all. But you expected him to stalk someone more like him or someone who isn’t just a normal civilian, or at least everyone thought you were a normal citizen.

“So be honest.” He tells you as he sits next to you on the couch. “You told me your real name, which is Y/N. Then you told me your friends call you ‘Bee.’ Why do they call you that?”

“I told you why.”

“Well after staying with you for the last 8 hours, I’m starting to think that they don’t call you that just because you’re happy. I haven’t seen you smile once.”

“Well also my friends don’t call me that, it’s more like the people I don’t like.”

“Yea?”

“Yea, and it's not Bee, it’s The Black Bee.” You sigh. “It’s a stupid name, it’s meant to be said in Russian but the damned Avengers keep saying it in English, it’s lame.”

“You… are the Chernaya Pchela?” He asks you in disbelief. “I don’t believe you.”

“Why is that hard to believe?”

“Look at you…” He nods his head towards you while you take a big scoop of the jell-o you had been slurping up this entire conversation.

“Hey if you’re gonna try and make a point, do it while I’m doing something cool.” You tell him sarcastically.

“That's besides the point.”

“Not for me.”

“There’s no way you’re one of the Avengers' threats.”

“Oh come on, look at you.” You nod towards him this time, his lap was covered by the fluffy My Little Pony blanket that he found folded in your closet.

“The difference between me and you is you’re a threat, I’m an asset.”

“Same difference.”

“No, because I’m important to them, while you on the other hand, they’re just annoyed by you.”

“They’re also interested in me.”

“They are not.”

“They are because I have more knowledge in nanotech than my dad does.”

“And who's your dad?”

“Now that? That’s besides the point.” You tell him, pointing your spoon at him. “Besides, they don’t know my identity, or at least not the identity behind the mask.”

“Well clearly they do if they took you from your dorm and locked you in the tower for a week.”

“No, they did that because they think I control you.”

“And you do.”

“Don’t tell them that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t even know how to brainwash you.” You raise your voice a little.

“I can show you.”

“I’d rather stay in the dark. You should know how peaceful the dark is.” You mumble the last part, but he obviously hears it as you witness his head shake in annoyance.

“You are… in control of me.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.”

“Then get the fuck out of my dorm.”

“No.”

“That’s what I thought.” You say with pride as you turn away and hear him groaning behind you, a quiet “Whatever” leaving his lips. “So are you gonna get out? Why are you still here?”

“I feel like I should be.”

“I swear to God, if you start babbling about destiny and fate and all that crap then you need to go across the hall to Jada, she’s the one with all the little rocks that she claims gives her emotional stability.” His stomach moves in a way that makes your cheeks heat up as he chuckles and stands up from the couch.

“Listen. I think something is going on-”

“Yea I’ve got the Winter Soldier in my dorm and he won’t leave.”

“Y/N.” He dares, stepping closer to you, close enough for you to be able to smell the soap off his hair from the shower he’d taken earlier. “Say one more fucking sarcastic remark and I’ll make you regret it.” He grits his teeth and you watch as his hands clenched into fists. You go quiet, but the outside doesn’t.

You both turn your heads as you hear multiple engines pull into the schools parking lot, and you would look out your window, but that dumbass tree is in the view.

“Let’s go, I’m sure they’re looking for you.” Barnes walks past you and towards your door.

“Wait.” You tell him, then you run to the side of your bed before getting down on your knees and pulling a large bag out from under your bed which you throw over your shoulders.

“Extra weight.”

“It’s important.” You tell him as you leave the room and head to the right.

“There she is!” You pause, and about five men run in your direction.

“Those aren’t S.H.I.E.L.D agents.” You spit out before turning in the opposite direction, and you could hear the Winter Soldiers footsteps following close behind you.

“They’ll be all over outside, we can’t just go downstairs!” He shouts as you both continue your run down the hall.

“Who said we were going down?” You shout back as a tranq dart zooms past you, grazing your arm as you reach for the doorknob of the stairs, swinging it open and quickly running up the stairs, not stopping until you were on the roof level, and you could hear more men as they all began to chase you both up.

“Stop running or we will be forced to sedate you Ms. Stark and Mr. Barnes!” One of the men yells from about two stories beneath you, and you finally reach the door to the roof which Barnes quickly kicks open before you slam it back behind you both and lock it from the outside.

“Okay we have probably like two minutes before they figure out the key is hanging on the wall next to the door.” You tell Barnes as you remove your bag and throw it to the floor.

“Can’t be that important if you’re just gonna fucking throw it to the floor-” His voice stops in his throat as you tap away at your watch and the bag quickly takes form into a motorcycle. “I’m driving.” He says quickly as he approaches the bike.

“What? No! This is my bike! Find your own!” You yell and get in front of him, but a gasp leaves your lips as his hand suddenly wraps around your throat in a warning, no words spoken. “Got it, you’re driving.” You choke out before you both get on the bike, and he wastes no time in turning it around and driving it straight towards the edge of the building.

“Hold on tight!” He shouts.

“I’m not touching you!” You shout back, then the front wheel leaves solid ground, then the back wheel as you both become airborne, the bike flying through the air for barely five second before it started falling, just barely missing the security fence as the wheels hit the sidewalk outside of the school and you watch as Hydra agents fill their cars while Barnes quickly continues his escape, the bike moving much faster than Hydras cars and trucks as he turns the bike to zip through traffick.

All was fine until you heard the unmistakable sound of more fucking motorcycles. It was all happening in a movie, hell you were surprised you two didn’t fall in slow motion from the building.

You turn on the motorcycle, your back to Barnes’ back as you reach down and unclasp two pistols that were concealed on the bike, and you aim them up, shooting without aiming, not that it would be easy to aim while Barnes takes every possible turn and twist he possibly could.

“Damn it could you hold still!” You shout, missing one of the agents but still accidentally hitting another.

“Oh yea sorry let me just slow the fuck down so they can kill us!”

“They’re not gonna kill us you moron, they wanna enslave us, theres a difference!”

“Not to my conscience!” He yells just before taking another turn, the ride becomes bumpy as he takes your motorcycle down a long ass flight of stairs, stopping the car chase, but some motorcycles still don’t give in as you watch a few bad drivers fall off their bikes, leaving only a few more to take care of.

“They’re really persistent!”

“You fucking think?!” He leans forward as you turn back around on the bike. “Now you should really hold on!”

“Why?” You ask, and look ahead. This moron. “NO! I just painted this fucking bike!”

“Yea and you went with fucking pink!” He yells back before you both once again go airborne. Time actually felt like it had stopped as the wheels left the ground and you felt weightless, like your organs were made of helium as some little birds left the leaves of the trees under you. You weren’t sure what his plan was. Jumping off a bridge and over nature to escape some motorcyclists who by the way, were completely set on NOT following you. As a matter of fact, if you had the choice, you probably would’ve chosen to go with Hydra, rather than jumping off a bridge, or what seemed like a cliff, with no clear escape plan, or at least parachute.

“Open your eyes!” Ezekiel yells in your face, his spit getting on your skin. “You’re nothing to me! You’re nothing, you hear me!” His voice is distant, like it’s all in your head. It felt like it all was, and every child and parent wouldn’t wish it upon the world what happened to you. It was like a horror film, tortured everyday. Tortured until there was nothing to torture you about. “It stings! It hurts so bad papa!” You scream, crying to the man you had called your father. “I don’t care! Just open your fucking eyes! You useless piece of shit!” He yells even louder, grabbing your face and pushing your little head against the wall. “Now open you fucking eyes before I make you, you little shit!”

“Open your eyes!”

“Open them!”

“Open your eyes…”

“Wake up!”

“Wake up damnit…” Was the first thing you heard as you snapped out of your head, and you immediately gasp for air, feeling like you’d been drawing underwater. You quickly sit up, and scoot back until your back collides with something, you turn around to see a tree and turn back around to see Barnes crouched down at your level and staring into your eyes.

“What the fuck were you thinking!” You scream, some birds flying away as they hear your voice and you stand up to approach him angrily but quickly lose your balance, stumbling right onto him.

“Woah there…” He says softly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t music to your ears hearing him speak to you like that. “What are you talking about?” He gently holds you by your arms.

“Riding off a cliff on my bike! Where is my bike?” You look around frantically, and your eyes land on a heap of pink metal that was once your bike.

“You can replace it-”

“My bike!” You shout, making a slow jog towards it. It was completely ruined.

Beyond fucking repair. “Oh come on, I worked so fucking hard on this…” You mumble to yourself, hoping you could at least find the chip that brings the whole thing together, and your eyes lighten up when you spot the little square which you immediately snatch up and shove into your pockets, which you quickly zip up. You could deal with it later, but right now… “God you’re an absolute imbecile!” You yell at him, stomping towards where he was now standing.

“Calm down…”

“Calm down!? How am I supposed to calm down? You just jumped off a cliff-”

“A bridge.”

“You’re so-” You twist your tongue trying to find the right words. “So-” He steps closer and you lower your tone. “So…”

“So?”

You groan, slumping your shoulders and not knowing what to say. You knew you wouldn’t be able to offend him anyways.

“Listen.” He says gently. “All that matters is that you’re alright.”

“My bike…” You mumble.

“Y/N, forget about the bike.” He warns.

“My bike!”

“I’m just about done with your attitude…” He grits his teeth, and gets up in your face, backing you up against a tree. “One more fucking word and I swear I-”

“Bite me.”

“Is that a promise, doll?” He gently places his index finger under your chin, and lifts your face so your eyes are level with his. “Cause with that fucking attitude you won’t let up, I’m starting to think that’s the only thing that’ll get you to shut the fuck up.” He begins to grip your chin between his thumb and index finger. “So I think I might just have to take up on your offer for once…” He tells you, getting impossibly closer as he presses his body against you. “I’ve tried for way too long to hold back, I can’t do it anymore…” He grumbles before his lips crash onto yours and only then do you realise you haven’t said a word to him since he’s starting speaking.

His lips move softly against yours, his tongue licking your lips as he tries to get closer to you. His hands move from your face down to your waist and you feel the coldness on your waist as his left hand moves up your shirt. “So it's been this easy the entire time…?” He asks rhetorically, leaning in closer to you as his lips find the skin on your neck as you open your mouth to protest but you simply moan, your actions defying your thoughts as you rock your hips against him. “Careful there princess…” He whispers in your ear, his breath fanning your skin as you feel his hand reach around you, grasping your ass and lifting you gently, holding you between his body and a tree, his erection pressing against your centre through his jeans and your shorts.

“Please…”

“What’s that?” He trails his lips up from your neck to your lips, his hands moving to slowly undo your pants.

“Please… I…” You pause, regretting what you say before it even comes out of your mouth. “I need you…” You moan as he grinds against you, slowly.

“You want me?” He breathes out.

“Yes… Please…”

“Well… that’s too bad…” Whispers in your ear, then gently puts you back down on your feet. “We should get going, I’m sure they’ve been searching for us all day.” He groans like an old man as he reaches down and picks up one of his weapons. “We can’t stay in one place for too long, now can we?”

He continues walking away and you awkwardly find yourself buttoning your pants back up and following behind him.

What the fuck was that…?

[ganondoodle]

fuck it, elden ring DLC rant (spoilers) (long post ... oh dear)

so, to start this- this is a very emotional reaction, so take everything with a ton of salT (i need to get this out of my system bc i need to go and do stuff today, i literally couldnt get much more than 3 hours of sleep bc my mind was racing) i only know two screenshots and what others have told me (thank you) so i might be missing more context and havent seen or read it myself

(more details and spoilers for the DLC below the read more thingy)

also, just to explain a bit, i dont usually get this upset about things i like, i like alot of things, but its RARE as fuck that i care, like actually care care about something, and that just kinda happens, i dont choose it or can decide to not care, i just do, and when something like this happens its like ... a sort of grief? i cant help but care about it but it messes with me emotionally, i have no control over it and cant change anything about it when it gets bad or done dirty, leavign me to just have to watch it be real even when i dont want to accept it-- i wouldnt say so much that i 'expect' somethign specific and cant handle when its not like that (common accusation about disliking totk)- and no i dont have somethign specific in mind, i just dont want it to be bad OR things that seem done and closed off suddendly out of nowhere be revealed to 'actually' have been like this, new stuff that either makes no sense or invalidates alot about what i valued about it, what i thought was the point

(i remember two .. my only two other intersts before- see what i mean RARE- that also went down simiarly like this; transformers (bay movies and mainly prime series, listen i didnt choose it either) with each movie it got more messy and stupid, primes second(?) season had an end i hated and the following movie was the final nail in the coffin- and one piece after that, which i slowly fell out of love with bc every chapter seemed to go more into a direction i didnt like, then the reveal that luffy is a god actually was my final ok i hate that moment)

i knew demise for a long time but wasnt obsessed about him at all, it took me learning about how hylia was depicted in a non canon (?) manga (which made me annoyed me bc i didnt like it and made a design for her to counter demises instead) and then reading his few lines of dialog about her again that it suddendly HIT me, like cupids arrow into my head-- i liked but wasnt that super interested into elden ring until radahn showed up, instantly his design made me go owo and then learning his (base game) lore it HIT me (i love sort of tragic side characters that might have been powerful or heroic at some point but now arent anymore- not saying he is that elden rings lore i messy and no ones good tm- and especially so if that character is widely hated for no good reason, dismissed or forgotten, has little lore etc)

i have things i like but dont care this much about, like okami or bloodborne, i like it alot, theres characters i really like (oki) but im not like, fixated on them?- and to have two at the same time, while not equally strong, i dont think i had before, and then have both be damaged or potentially lose it in a similar way within barely a year hurts so damn much--- anyway, getting into the actual rant now lol

so, to sum things up (that i know), in the elden ring DLC later on

miquella is actually a master manipulator and brainwasher (even to his sister???? which means alot of impactful things about his relationship to people is kinda invalidated or made meaningless, shitty)

he wanted to become a god by marrying radahn (his half? brother, same father) of all people that has never been mentioned before until now somehow?? ) you can argue it was hinted to but i find it completely out of left field

miquella sent malenia after radahn to kill him so he could be put into the realm of shadow so miquella could marry him (there were better candidates for that??)- its unclear (to me) if radahn ever actually accepted when sound of mind or even knew about it at all, but failed and he was isntead inflicted with rot to slowly waste away but not die (like he is in base game)

which also means that, what i found really impactful in base game, the festival of radahn, that i thought was a tragic sort of last wish/effort for of radahn to grant him an honorable death as a respected general after being made into mindless people eating zombie, organized by his soldiers/friends- might have been just yet another attempt to kill him and get him over there to miquella (and even if not, it still makes it way less impactful and now i feel like letting him continue to roam as a zombie is more of a favor than killing him bc hes just gonna a puppet again! which turns the whole tradgedy of the stuff in base game on its head imo)

you need to kill him to get into the DLC (and i was even sus of that but shrugged it off when i heard it ..) bc that way miquella could take whatever was left of his soul and stitch it into mohgs corpse?? (which is why hes so small in that DLC fight) bc his body was rotten by that point, which also allowed miquella to control radahn and make him agree, force him to do whatever miq wanted (which ALSO might mean mohg 'kidnapping' miquella wasnt that actually but mohg too was manipulated so oud kill him and make his remains usable)

radahn in DLC is a voiceless meat puppet essentially ... like a mindless rotting zombie eating friends and fow alike wasnt enough- also means that we never ACTUALLY GET OT KNOW RADAHN HIMSELF bc hes eithe a zombie or a literal puppet (if you are gonna do him dirty at least let us meet actual real him *cries*)

his fight is super hard apparently (though i have been hearing people complain about the entire DLC being too hard, while the -casual player- streamer i watched is beating main bosses so fast they dont even get to start their second phase) when his fight in base game, and him by extentsion, was also hated bc of that ALREADY, which means more people are gonna hate his guts (he doesnt deserve that!!) AND most people probably wont get or care that its not actually HIM him so its like a repeat boss that everyone hates

it feels weirldy forced in for it to be radahn (like miquella was already said to be one of the strongest gods out there .. why hed want radahn so badly when his goal seemed to be rather .. combat less?? if you get what i mean, and radahn also rejected him??? and the tarnished is right there too????) bc theres plenty others it would have worked with that are barely used- it feels like someone jsut wanting him to be tha main guy not matter what (when he worked so much better as a side character!!!!)

a tragic but well rounded off side character (imo) was made into the main guy this is all about actually tm (i generally dont like main guys and this jsut feels so .... it just hurts, it didnt feel foreshadowed at all, and its not even truly HIM that is reveal to be a creepy asshat but hes just manipulated and controlled with the whole time, be it by rot or miquella)

and for miquella its like, no theres no even mildly good people there, hes brainwashed and manipulated everyone actually tm, a giant plan all to force his half brother into marrying him by making him into a corpse puppet bc he rejected miquella- inlcuding potentially manipulating his own twin sister, which goes agaisnt what you learn of what hes done for her in the base game i think?? (not that much into that part but yeah ... it feels unfair to her too)

it also kinda just leaves other lore from the base game in the dust? like the whole haligtree plan, how miquella cared for the rejected (i guess he didnt then??? and it was just more manipulation tm??) that castle with the eclipse stuff

(is the gloom eyes queen, marika, and or st trina even .. important at all to any of this??)

ok from reading tweets from people talkign about it, miquella says radahn agreed apparently but whether thats true remains uncertain and given the circumstances i do not think radahn did- others said that it kinda sounds he agreed to something that he didnt think would involve him marrying miquella

everything feels like its in shambles for every fan of every involved chaarcter

yes i know you can argue that it was all planned from the start and meant to be a twist and everything and that people having a different idea of characters isnt the fault of the creators .... only to some degree bc why then build up make so much lore and story about stuff that turns out to be like saying 'actually it was all a lie' like its not valid to feel betrayed then, you can plan things out all you want but that doesnt mean it cant be bad oder underwhelming

(i wished to be able to meet or know more about radahn but like in a non rot way or like past flashback whatever kind of way and then not like this anyway, like i was interested into his relationship with jerren and just .. more about him i suppose the monkey paw has curled hasnt it -or however you say that-)

and there i was like two days ago going "omg radahn mention!!!" when that one .. feyja? NPC says she fought alongside him at some point ............................................................

leonard isnt there in the DLC to my knowledge, you know it cant be truly radahn if his horse isnt there (the sole reason he learned gravitiy magic for and it stayed with him even after the rot!!! i know people have started to hate it bc people love that but i love that, it made him so endearing to me, like a character i already found cool omg has a confirmed softer spot??? in MY fromsoftware title??)

sorry for the long post of rambling, i am a mess, barely slept 3 hours, yes i am weird to care, autisms or whatever .. i need to go somewhere in an hour and havent prepared as all bc i needed my thoughts out of my head- might have forgotten stuff, idk if i will add it later or just kinda .. stew in it for a while

(and yes a big point why i feel so strongly is both bc its just gonna make more people hate him even more AND feels so invalidating of alot of other stuff- pulls other characters down with it- the entire time i was watching the streams i and trailers i thought i was like, its onw thing, with miquellas littel adventure and more background info on marika mostly on its own from the base game BUT NO I GUESS)

(read all this in the sense of an utteraly disoriented confused and drunken seagull yelling around pls i am not in serious mental distress ..)

[neonacity]

Of Love and Lust | Jaemin x Reader | Demigod!AU [An Elysium Special Preview]

Summary: There are a few notable things that Jaemin learned early on in his short, young life. First, beauty can give you anything and anyone, especially if you know how to play your cards right. Second, being wanted and desired is the one true thing everyone strived for, mortal, god, and anyone in between.

He lived by these rules and won every game he played; until finally, he met an unlikely match—the first soul he has ever encountered who didn't throw herself at his feet. Now, Na Jaemin is adding a third in his short list of life learnings.

Rejection is an ugly thing and he has no plans of tasting it, Olympus be damned.

***

A/N: hi! It's been... uhh... months since I posted anything on here. I don't know what got into me but I decided to quickly write something in advance for Jaemin's birthday. YES, I know the concept is cheesy. Yes, I am aware it is cliche. This is more of a practice piece so I don't want to fuss over it too much. Note: this is not proofread.

The official first chapter of this series can be read here and Jeno's version can be found here.

"Hi. I'm here for the interview."

Jaemin looked up from the book he was holding, finger stopping mid-flip as his gaze settled on the owner of the voice. Standing on the threshold of the door was a girl wearing the same uniform that he—of great unfortunate circumstance—had been forced to wear when he was dumped into this school exactly fourteen days, eight hours, and two minutes ago. The visitor returned the same blank stare he gave her and it took him a few seconds to realize what was off with the current situation.

And then it hit him.

She was returning the same BLANK stare that he has. There was not a trace of mildest interest there, not even an inkling of dreaminess that the rest of Rosewood Academy's student body have bestowed upon him the moment he stepped foot into the school of demigods. If anything, she was starting to look mildly irritated as his silence lengthened.

"Is Jeno here?"

Her choice of change in question finally brought Jaemin back to reality. Gathering his wits, he masterfully pushed back the growing curiosity under his well-practiced perfect mask and closed the book he was holding with a snap. The sound of it rang in the room, pointed and lingering.

"Who are you?"

His voice was casual when he answered her question with another one of his. Despite the lack of inflection, however, he didn't miss the way her brows furrowed, as if he just asked her something offensive.

"I'm the president of the Journalism club. Your friend, Jeno, told me to come here this afternoon. He said I can interview him for a story I am developing for the club."

Jaemin didn't even take more than a cycle of breath to understand what was happening. His good friend Jeno is the least sociable of the pack, but this is the reason why the ass was so adamant in turning down his invitation to hang out today in this very room. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers him mumbling something about this student who was trying to harass him about a story for the school paper. What he didn't expect was said student in the form of this miniscule girl in front of him, giving him the coldest stare he had received... probably ever.

Jeno, you bastard son of Hades.

"Look, if he's not here, can you at least tell me where he is?"

This time, she didn't exactly try to downplay the irritation in her voice. Jaemin internally frowned at the way his heart oddly jumped at the tone of it. At the back of his mind, there was a gnawing taste of a strange emotion he couldn't quite put a finger yet. He felt odd, almost uncomfortable—another first for him—so he decided to distract himself by finally standing from his seat.

"He's busy at the moment. If you have any message, I can pass it on to him," he offered as he put his hands on his pockets. The girl in front of him barely blinked even as he stared her down, his eyes trying to search for something on her face. Infatuation. Wonder. Lust. Nothing. Jaemin did pick up an emotion under her facade though, and it took him everything not to burst in laughter when he realized what it is.

Suspicion. Of all things he could stir upon her, it's suspicion.

"Who are you?"

As if she was trying to outdo him in everything, her question made everything so much better, and so much more confusing for him. He'd be damned if he let her know much she caught his interest though. After all, if there is anything Jaemin will never do in his life, it's to grovel for attention.

Slowly and with practiced grace, he tipped his head to the side as he put the full force of his stare on her. He thought he saw her falter a little, but it was too fast, and soon enough, she was back to giving him her deadpanned stare.

When he finally answered her question, he made sure his words lingered in the air. Jaemin's lips curled into a smile that barely hinted at the thoughts in his head.

"Jaemin Na. Son of Aphrodite."

"At your service, love."

[nightswithkookmin]

Hey Goldy

Hope u are doing good cos i am not atall. When JK said Be happy even without us and cried on Live. He Literally cried infront of millions of people. Why did it felt like a Good Bye ? My heart is broken. I am sad. I have never thought about being happy without BTS in my life. I know this day will come when Army will have to learn to live and be happy without BTS but not now not anytime soon. I am not ready but what JK did in that Live has left sadness in my heart. I am happy about Set me free pt 2 teaser and been streaming it. Its going to be Legendry. I am excited for Jimin album but my damn mind keeps thinking of JK and his face with tears rolling down is bothering me. I dont know whats going on with him but i am praying to God that it was just Alcohol and nothing more.

I was bopping my head and sobbing along till I read goodbye

Ma'am step away from the light I will not lose you

Saying goodbye to WHOMST???

Not me cos he and I are not done

We have JJK1 to promote, stream and get to number one.

Goodbye, chileee I will move into his basement and ship him from there. now both he and I are uncomfortable staring at eachother cos my fat ass didn't fit under his bed.

Jungkook is not going anywhere hajima😫

Like you said, he switched on live television to cry in front of millions of people. If he had somewhere else to go with his angsty ass he wouldn't be here doing al that 🥴

Imagine being his 'girlfriend' and seeing him shed tears and cry himself to sleep drunk in front of million strangers when he could have come to you and cried and be vulnerable with you so you console him

When I think about all the times Jimin said I was talking with Jungkook, caressing our phones, crying, talking about how I want to be with the members for a very long time- these people have girlfriends my ass

Tae can't relate

I was expecting this around covid and around the time they announced their Solo careers. Seems he didn't give himself time to take it all in and deal and now it's hitting him hard🥴

I think it's good he is processing pent up emotions and externalizing certain thoughts. There are so many things I want to address from that video but will save it for another blog.

He is at the height of his career and he knows it. He's gonna process that somehow, the doubt the uncertainty, the fear, I just hope it doesn't paralyze him. Suga went through a similar phase as did Namjoon. Every artist goes through this.

People think it's easy to step out of the shadows of a big band as BTS and just catapult into the lime light- they should as Zayne Malik💀

As RM said, it's just too many voices telling you you are no good without your bandmates, too many people tearing your self Esteem apart, telling you you will fail, suddenly you are doubting if that song you made is good, wondering if you will become successful etc

For Jungkook I heard him saying all these, raising all these questions and curiosity about a solo career even before they announced it. I don't think it's easy for him. There's a lot of expectations and pressure to excel. Poor thing.

I really wish Jimin was free and had time to cuddle him. He just needs to be spooned. He will be fine 🙂

I think sometimes they don't realize the effect their tears have on us. Especially when they're crying and being sentimental and ominous about your career😫

I don't think it's just the alcohol. There's something going on with him. But i think he will be fine. the fact Namjoon told him to be quick and release his album means he has something in the works which is good. I don't want to analyze him too much cos it will take me away from Jimin.

We love him and I'm sure he feels the love.

The best we can do is support him and assure him we will be here for him whenever he needs us.

I feel Jimin is competing with a lot of people for army's attention. I love the competition but it's becoming ridiculous.

Let's stay focused. Let's learn to prioritize.

When we are done with Face, we have all the time in the world to discuss Jungkook's moody phase.

I want to hug you and tell you everything will be fine

Here's something to cheer you up

If that don't do it try this🥵

In a few days he's gonna be dropping an MV that's gonna keep all the girlies active 🥺

That still doesn't cheer you up? Crazy😩

Fine. I'll post a full analysis soon😓

[djarinbarnes]

me recordarás - one

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4k

Summary: summer has come to an end. you find yourself thrown into a whirlwind of emotions, difficult choices and more adversity, like you’d never believed possible. someone is there to pull you out of it - but it’s not someone you’d ever imagined.

a/n: god I feel like it’s been so long since I've posted. I'm finally back, somehow, and I'm so excited to share everything with you. I’ve enjoyed coming back into this little universe I've created. I hope you'll like it, and please, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think! I’m not ready for this...

SERIES MASTERLIST

Read it on ao3 here

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

A missed period was one thing. It happened to many, without there being a reason for it. Though, a missed period after weeks of unprotected sex with a handsome stranger was giving you an uneasy feeling. After waiting a whole week, you decided that a test was the only thing that could ease your mind.

Even though you didn’t want to believe it at first, the surge of emotions that coursed through your body when the two lines stared back at you from the little stick between your fingers had you convinced.

You were pregnant.

And not by a man you had been seeing for a while, a boyfriend, a husband, no, a man you had a summer fling with, a man you had given your all, a damn womanizer, if his reputation was true. A man who fucked whores for information.

You turned right around on the toilet and fell to your knees, just in time for the contents of your stomach to fall into the toilet. Somehow it was sickening to you. You regretted the whole summer just like that – even though it had been the most amazing weeks of your life.

You hid the test rolled up in some toilet paper, truly not wanting your mother to find it and bug you even more about Javi. You had to figure out what you had to do first, and you already knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

You had literally given him your all. Your first kiss. Your virginity. Your very first I love you. You had opened yourself up to him like you hadn’t ever done with anyone before. Told him secrets that he now was the only other person than you who knew. And now it had all culminated into a situation you’d rather not be in.

You felt betrayed. Especially since he was so hard to get into contact with. You knew it would be a challenge because of his work, but you had expected to talk with him more frequently than once a week for five short minutes. You wanted nothing more than to live out your imagination and expectations, to lie in your bed and talk with him for hours on end, into the early hours of the morning.

“You know how men are. They only want one thing, and that’s to sleep with young, unsuspecting girls like you. He’s no good, and I don’t want you seeing him anymore. He’s going to leave you hanging anyways.”

Your mothers’ words kept resonating in your head. While her words had been a surprise those weeks ago, you were now starting to think that maybe she was right, and that it wasn’t just said in spite to hurt you momentarily. Maybe he was going to leave you hanging, now it was more than a stab to your chest, and it was starting to hurt more than you wanted to admit.

Maybe you should’ve just forgotten him – had an abortion already, so you wouldn’t be stuck with… the little wonderful secret blossoming inside of you, that probably would be the splitting image of their father. You could somehow feel it – that resemblance your baby would have to the tan, beautiful man you’d fallen in love with.

But you were tired. Tired of being let down every time you tried getting in contact with him – you’d gotten Steve on the phone more than once, actually up to ten times, and he told you the same story every time. Javi is busy right now. Is there something I can help you with? I’ll have him call you back when he’s got the time.

His absence brought only one thing. Loneliness.

A feeling somewhat hard to describe… Because loneliness comes in so many different shapes and sizes. Well… Somehow there’s a certain loneliness to every situation there is, and yet nothing feels more all-consuming than the loneliness surrounding you at that exact moment.

Along with the constant twinge in your gut, you had no idea how to keep your emotions in check. Maybe it was just hormones coursing through your body. You just had a feeling there was something more multiplying the emotions.

Leaving your parents’ house after the summer break and going back to your small studio apartment in Center Court was truly an improvement for you – your mother was constantly getting more nosy and was bugging you about Javi. It certainly wasn’t helping your situation, when all you wanted to do was bury yourself six feet under.

You dreaded going back to uni after the summer break. Mainly because your whole mindset was corrupted by the thought of him and your current situation, and you just knew you had no chance of following the syllabus before it was taken care of. You had to talk to Javi somehow, to tell him about your situation and find out what you were going to do about it.

The best spot in your small apartment was currently your bed – it felt like the safest spot for you to be and scrutinize your situation. It was warm and cozy, and your thick duvet comforted you in ways you couldn’t explain. The comforts of your bed brought along another unforeseen consequence – the nagging of your own thoughts.

The spot on the wall where your eyes had been glued to for the past three days had been glared into so intensely, you were afraid the paint was going to chip off under your hardened gaze. It was tough - you knew you had to eat something, but your appetite was little to none.

So, that’s one thing love does. Makes your head spin and your appetite diminish.

You knew you had to do something. If there was something you had done over the last three days, it was think about what to do with the whole situation before the semester started.

With the baby. Your baby. Javi’s baby.

Your heart ached for someone to actually love, and for someone to love you back the same way. A love that came easily, naturally. Just like your love for Javi. He was easy to love and admire, no matter how hard he tried to deny his feelings and apparently fuck his way through and around every obstacle.

“If you want to know things about them… I figured you have to hang around the same people they do. The same women they do.” Javi’s words still nagged in your mind. You knew he had probably had sex with enough women to last a man a decade, and yet he never seemed fully sated. Could you be enough for him?No, shut up. Stupid mind.

You knew you had to tell him. You had to give him a say in the matter, because you respected him that much. No matter how much or how little you wanted to keep it, you didn’t feel like it was your choice to make on your own. And with every day passing, your love and want grew.

Most of the things you were considering was talking against having the baby, with the first being where the father was located. He was so far from you, both location and expectation wise. Maybe even development wise. You reached out your hand and grabbed the crackers from your nightstand, along with the phone.

You needed to try and call him again. He needed to know, and you had to get through to him somehow.

You dialed one of the numbers he had given you and waited patiently while it rung, while pushing a cracker past your lips. It was the only thing you could manage to keep down. Even though the crackers managed to dry out your entire mouth just by looking at them, they were still the most inviting food you could think of.

You felt your heart pick up the pace as the tones kept going off, until you got to the automated voicemail in Spanish, probably asking you to leave a message after the tone.

It seemed like starting to pick apart the problem was even more overwhelming than you had expected, since you started bawling the minute you hung up.

You had no idea what to feel - all the emotions were overwhelming and settling on one out of them all seemed like an impossible task. You decide on trying to get hold of Javi again. You bite your lip before you hold out the phone in front of you yet again, and dialing the other number Javi gave you.

The fucking Embassy. You felt like a childish stalker as you patiently waited for someone, anyone, to pick up the damn phone. A click sounded, before his voice filled your ears, for the first time in… what felt like a very long time.

“Peña.” It felt like all the air had left your lungs, and the whole speech you had prepared to get into touch with him had disintegrated into thin air the second you had heard his voice. You were instantly thrown back into your fantasies, the recollection of his hands on your skin - your hips, your waist, your neck, his lips against yours.

“¿Quién es?” You could hear the impatience in his tone, and you knew you had to speak up sooner or later, or he would hang up on you. He was an impatient man after all, and he was probably busy.

“Javi,” Your voice was shaky when you finally managed to mutter out his name. “It’s… me.” You breathe in, closing your eyes at the relaxing feeling of the air being let back into your lungs. You could feel your body missing him, the presence of him already. You shut your eyes tightly at the sound of him sucking in a breath on the other end.

You didn’t know what kind of breath it was. Was it an I miss you, I’m sorry I haven’t gotten properly in touch with you since you left Colombia? Or was it an in all just a Fuck, not you again, stop trying to get in touch with me, I’ve got other, more important things to do?

At this point you didn’t even know which of those two you wished for it to be at this point. It would be easier if he just ignored the fact that you even existed. Well, easier for him, that is. This wasn’t ever just going to be easy for you anymore. You were bound to him one way or another. You weren’t ever going to forget this point in your life.

“Hermosa.” And then everything disintegrated yet again. The wall you had been building along with the fake scenarios you had been making up in your head simply vanished in that moment, and the whole slate was wiped clean. You hated he had such power over you, with just one simple word. It was like you could feel his gaze on you. His breath fanning over your face and his hands hovering over your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.” You open your eyes at his voice telling you just what you needed to hear. “I’m sorry hermosa. For not getting in touch sooner.” You lift the hand not holding the phone to your heart, somehow trying to keep it from beating out of your chest. “We really need to talk.”

“It’s alright.” It’s barely a whisper, but you know he hears you nonetheless, from the way he starts going on about how much of an asshole he’s been, and how sorry he is, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. You don’t know how long he spends apologizing, if it’s just a few seconds or a minute, but you cut him off.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Your voice is shaky as you hear his flood of words come to a halt. The silence between the two of you in those short seconds is deafening. An awful number of thoughts manages to run through your head in the span of barely any time. You feel like he knows already, yet he isn’t telling you if he does.

“I really don’t wanna do it over the phone.” You lean back against your pillow, looking up into the ceiling as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “I really need to see you, Javi. It’s been almost two months.”

You hear papers being ruffled on the other end of the phone, and you bite your lip as you await his answer. What if he didn’t want to see you again? You really had no idea what you were going to do, no matter what the two of you ended up agreeing on.

“I need to see you. It might be possible for me to get some additional leave within the next week.” You hear him lighting a cigarette on the other end, and you close your eyes, imagining him as the cigarette hangs between his lips while he talks. “I’ll come see you.”

You hear him inhale, followed by a deep exhale, and you find yourself dreaming back to the few times he’d blow the smoke into your mouth ever so sinfully. You let out a silent whimper, your thoughts already taking you further and further away from reality. If you could just daydream for the rest of your life, everything would be so much easier.

“Hermosa?” his voice pulls you out of your trance, and you breathe out a sigh. “I got your postcard.” You smile softly. Your heart was pounding heavily behind your ribcage at the thought of him holding it, looking at it, thinking of you.

“Yeah?” You manage to breathe out, before you let your hand travel down to rest on your stomach. That meant he now knew where you lived. “I’m in Miami now. Back for the start of the semester.”

You hear Javi ruffle some papers again. “I’ll talk to the director today. Let her know what the plan is. Then I’ll call you back, alright? I promise.” You close your eyes as the feeling of tears welling up comes back for another moment. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You wanted to tell him that, but somehow you couldn’t allow yourself to say it.

“Okay Javi.” You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying. You have so many suppressed feelings coming to the surface right at that moment, and your whole body desperately wanting to give in and let out all of the emotions you’ve been containing, but you really didn’t want to flood Javi with it, giving he’s at work. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’ll see you soon, hermosa. I miss your beautiful face.” You can hear the smile playing on his lips, and you stifle a giggle. You hear his name being called on the other end, and you know you must let the moment pass for now. He’d already given you a lot of his time. “I love you. Talk soon.”

You barely manage to say the words back to him before he’s hung up the phone, and you once again throw your head back against your pillow. Now there was a possibility that you could see Javi the following week. God, you wish it would happen. You needed to see him. You didn’t know what part of you longed for him most – your heart, your mind, your lust, or your conscience.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

“Peña.” His voice sounded nothing like she had expected. It was definitely a mature voice - a voice that had been strained from many years of usage. She could also hear the roughness that had probably come from smoking countless cigarettes. No good sign, so far.

“I’m calling on behalf of my daughter.” She stated into the phone, and she heard the man hold his breath on the other end of the line. “I don’t know what you have told her or what the two of you have been doing, but I know one thing. You’re going to leave my daughter alone and pay for what you have caused.” There was no tremble in her voice as she spoke to him.

“Ma’am, I have no idea wha-“ Javi started, but was cut off by the pitched voice of the woman on the other end.

“You have no id- oh my lord. How can you be so selfish? Or was she just an easy target for you to sink your predatory fingers into?” She spat back, feeling the heat of her flash of anger spread from her cheeks and into the skin of her chest.

“My sweet girl has been defiled by a man who won’t even take responsibility for his actions. I don’t know how you sleep at night, knowing a young woman is now on a crash course because you decided you needed some young meat to settle your urges with! I am disgusted beyond words!” The words resonated within his mind, and Javi felt his mouth run dry.

“Ma’am…” his fingers rubbed over his forehead, trying to relieve the tension drawing in his eyebrows. “If this is about this summer with your daughter, I reassure you that every intention I had was good. I would never, and didn’t force anything upon your daughter.” He heard the woman huff on the other line and decided to speak up again before she could start.

“Those weeks I spent with your daughter were some of the best in my life, and believe me when I say I would let nothing bad happen to her. With all due respect ma’am, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Javi heard her sputtering again before retracting the phone from his ear - her voice still clear as day as she screamed into the phone. Javi felt his attention slowly dissolving into nothing.

“You son of a! She’s barely entered her twenties and you… oh my. Are you a complete imbecile?” Javi halfway agreed with her, barely listening. His eyes landed on what his pen was scribbling on, and he muttered out a ‘shit’, noticing what he had been doodling on. He held the phone between his head and shoulder, removing the important information he had just ruined… a little.

“She is pregnant! You do know what happens when two people take the Lord’s name in vain before marriage?! You are dishonoring our beliefs!” Javi sighed and, against his good will, barely continued listening with half an ear to your mother’s spew of profanities. “You have sinned! You have taken the innocence of an unsuspecting young woman!”

If Javi hadn’t been listening before, he certainly was trying to recall what your mother had just said. It couldn’t be. Your mother continued talking, and Javi could hear her voice going through many different emotions while she switched between weeping and screaming.

“Ma’am I’m gonna have to call you back…” Javi slowly ended the call before drawing out a cigarette and lighting it with no emotion. Steve looked up at Javi from his paperwork, having listened in on a bit of their conversation, calling out his name.

Javi’s eyes met Steve’s over the table between them, and it felt like a drum was being pounded upon inside his head. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. He hoped to God it wasn’t true. It sounded harsh, but it was definitely a situation he didn’t want to find himself in.

Javi didn’t know how to feel. Or rather, he didn’t want to. He reached into the cabinet below the desk and pulled out the bottle he’d been storing in the darkness of the confined space, silently wishing he magically would fit in there as well.

Steve was watching him from behind some paperwork, having gained a little insight into the phone call Javi had just received. Somehow, Steve already knew. You could call it a gut feeling, or just the fact that Steve truly knew his partner. He just hadn’t expected this situation to become a reality.

Steve felt sorry for the man on the opposite side of the desk as he watched him screw off the lid and gulp down some of the brown liquid. Then he followed the tan hand as it reached into the pocket of the jacket slung over the armrest of the chair Javi was seated in, and watched as a cigarette appeared between the long fingers.

He watched in silence as the tip of the cigarette disappeared under the curtain of the brown mustache, eyes flickering to where nimble fingers flipped open a zippo and lighting the bared, encapsulated leaves of the tobacco. Silently, Steve wished for Javi to open up to him. He was tired of the way his colleague always shut himself up like a clam when something happened.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The smoke left Javi’s lips along with the words, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. Javi’s eyes darted to Steve’s face, taking in the way the skin around his eyes drew up into crinkles, as he smiled at the older man.

“I have to go see her.” Javi breathed, cigarette smoke twisting its way around his words as he spoke. Steve nodded, understanding with the little context given. It was routine by now. He knew Steve knew him like the back of his hand, no matter how reluctant Javi was to admit it.

“You can stay with us. No rush. I’m sure Con would be delighted to have you staying.” Steve was transferring back to Miami, and the two colleagues were wrapping up some last minute ties in Medellín before Steve’s departure the following week.

Connie had moved back to Florida the year before, leaving with their adopted daughter to ensure their safety, and Steve had decided to stay. It had taken a lot of convincing on Connie’s end, but Steve had finally given in and was moving back to the states after two years in Colombia.

Javi, on the other hand, had no intentions on moving back to the states in the near future. Maybe because all he had was his father and some broken relationships to people from his past, or because, no matter where he was, he never felt like he properly fit in.

He never felt like he could do his job right, meet the right people or even spend his time right. That was, until he met you. In the short period of time you were in Colombia, you managed to give him a feeling of belonging - something very foreign to him.

He loved the few days when he got to go home to you. He loved the feeling of coming home to someone, and having someone who actually admired him, talked with him, laughed with him, and didn’t judge him for his line of work.

Javi had to admit it - dating, as a federal agent, was hard. There was the unforgiving hours of work, there were unforgiving people wanting to hurt him and the people around him, and then there was the way of getting information in the god-forsaken country of Colombia.

Sometimes, Javi wishes he could get lost. Lost, and having no responsibility. Maybe just disappear? It would definitely be easier that way. Especially right now. Javi secretly wished he would just melt into a puddle and be dried off the floor by the cleaning lady.

What the hell was he supposed to do with a baby? Was he supposed to bring you into this life? Was he supposed to bring a baby into this life? He never knew if he was safe, if the people around him were safe. He could already see you kidnapped, beaten up, what was worse. He couldn’t lose you that way.

He felt a hand land on his shoulder, and it pulled him out of the spiraling of his own thoughts. He looked up at Steve, who offered him a warm smile. “It’ll be alright, man.” Javi leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, letting out a deep sigh.

He needed to figure this situation out. And quickly.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

[bonebabbles]

So since my rose-colored Gray Wing glasses have been torn of my face and stomped into tiny pieces, I’m now wondering if my perception of Clear Sky’s arc is also skewed. I thought his redemption arc was well done (until Star Flower came back) because he was sincerely trying, wasn’t expecting forgiveness, and (unlike a lot of redemption arcs) was not forgiven by most of the characters right away because of how bad his actions were. Until he got with Star Flower, I thought his redemption arc was damn near perfect. Do I have on rose-colored glasses for his redemption arc?

Clear Sky's "redemption arc" is one of the most incompetent bits of writing that has ever blighted the entire series and I promise you I'm not doing hyperbole. It is so bad that it drags down everything it touches, including Gray Wing, Thunder, Acorn Fur, and the entire concept of StarClan.

And, unfortunately, both things you cited there absolutely did not happen, I am going to have to eat your glasses. I'm gonna munch. I'm gonna cRUNCH

"He was sincerely trying"

He wasn't. He just stopped actively shredding random people on his border and then whines that he's "Trying So Hard," using it as yet another guilt trip tactic because he's still an abuser.

The SECOND anyone gives him any criticism (FOR BRINGING A WIFEBEATER INTO HIS CLAN MIND YOU), he twists the fact they're supposed to "forgive him" against them, starts calling Gray Wing slurs for having asthma, and gets offended at a warning while huffing, "no one tells me what to do!"

Like a big fucking baby

And he only let Tom into his clan (even implying he's not a REAL cat because he's fat + an ex-kittypet) because he promised he could show him how to "fight dirty."

AND ALSO he is fully aware that this man kidnapped children in a previous book; but Blazing Star completely forgets major details of the previous three books in a way that is absolutely unacceptable. You are practically reading a new continuity.

"He was not forgiven by the other characters right away"

He was. He was literally, immediately forgiven in the very opening of Blazing Star. By Gray Wing and Thunder, because the narrative decided that Everyone Is Responsible.

Even back in First Battle, right after the fight ends we get a line that gives Bramblestar a run for his money. "WE let it get too far." The narrative even scrambles for some reason to make a woman responsible and grabs Tall Shadow for some fucking reason.

Acorn Fur doesn't even mention that CLEAR SKY WAS STARVING HER FATHER before she decides to move in with him, because she would miss her parents too much on the moor... those parents who just died. In the battle Clear Sky started.

Everyone immediately forgives him and kisses his butt because "The guilt will hurt him more than any actual consequences :((( He was just under so much pressure of leading guys.... which is why he should continue to lead............"

I've actually had a hard time continuing my reread because I've actually been fucking enraged at how Thunder is swooning over his daddy "finally looking at him" uwu

This is painted like a good thing. This is a sweet and nice thing that finally, the abusive ghoul who shoved his face into a festering wound and said he shouldn't have been born just before trying to kill him and all of his friends 'respects him.' Oh Joyous Day Yippee Hooray!

How this ruins the other characters

It destroys Gray Wing because it makes ALL this dogshit behavior that he displayed for the first three books correct. In spite of how GOD awful this "Redemption Arc" is, you are supposed to believe that there is good "deep down" within Clear Sky. That all of this abuse apologia was wisdom. Gray was, and IS, right to take every insult and understand it as humility, and the Clear Sky on the page is actually a Good Boi who Really Does Love His Clan.

It ruins Thunder because even after ALL of that physical and emotional abuse and neglect, he's still supposed to honor Clear Sky as "You'll always be my father." These destructive impulses to want his approval are good and natural in this narrative, not something to confront or fundamentally question.

Fuck, just look at the Tom Redemption. The writers LOVE abusive parents. Even if they beat the shit out of your mom, get her killed, kidnap you, and had no part in raising you, "they still love you and would die for you." Tom's Redemption and Clear Sky's Redemption are just different lines in the same song.

Acorn Fur moves in with the guy who held one of her parents hostage and ultimately got both of them killed

And STARCLAN forms to "tell clear sky what to do," because in the baffling Fear vs Greed Dichotomy this series thinks is some kind of thesis, Clear Sky was just "afraid," not "greedy," and that means his fucked up little head can be fixed by the comfort a religious force can bring. He wasn't abusive because he loves having power over people, the thing that is right there on the page, nope, he really was just worried about death or responsibility or something.

This isn't even getting to the person he is in later material. He's a MONSTER in Moth Flight's Vision, as if his growth never happened.

And this is taking him all at face value-- in a meta sense, the sheer amount of female characters that get brutalized just for his man pain is legitimately dizzying. 2 mates die, 2 innocent women slaughtered, a child beaten and another starved to death, and even pregnant Star Flower gets pinned to the ground and licked on the face as her assaulter talks about how much he wanted her as a mate

This is the worst arc in the entire Warrior Cats franchise and it is spinning on the crap-axis that is Clear Sky's 'redemption'.

The arc is bad BECAUSE it is working towards this idea, that the best villain the series ever wrote has to become the writer's Poor Little Meow Meow halfway through 6 books, so we can get to our regularly scheduled Born Evil Foreigner Villains Who Hate Love And Friendship.

Imagine TPB but Fireheart cries that self defense against Clanborn cats makes you Just As Bad, Tigerstar was just scared or something, and you get two Diet Scourges. That's DOTC.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Pedantic, chapter one - a Malevolent AU

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems.

Arthur is also going blind, with a rare genetic condition that can’t be fixed.

The looming depression is bad. He can’t imagine a life where he can’t create anymore. Arthur nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new.

Great, right? Now, if only this John Doe weren’t clearly hiding something so wild that not even PI Parker Yang can dig it out…

Chapter One: Time for a bet.

AO3

----------

Arthur couldn’t see his view.

He knew it was good. He could still see when picking out the penthouse three years ago. He also knew it was a complete waste for him to hang on to this view now when he couldn’t see it, but he didn’t give a fuck. It felt like revenge against whatever force saw fit to do this to him, by depriving some other bastard of a view like this.

I’m telling you, it isn’t compliant, the robotic voice in his head said, synthesizing that fucking American’s words in the least emotional manner possible.

Arthur had never heard John’s actual voice, but was certain it wasn’t emotionless. “It does. I checked it against CIC standards, and YTM, and even the elusive Carney and Dobbs scale. You’re wrong.”

No, you are, argued the distant engineer.

Arthur didn’t have time for this. “Listen, Mister Doe, it is two o’clock in the morning here. I know damn well what I sent you works. So the problem is on your end, and I expect you to figure it out. ”

Silence. A long moment of silence.

Arthur knew precisely two things about John Doe. One, he was some sort of security whiz, capable of sniffing out backdoors and potential risks before even the pro hackers did, and two, John Doe absolutely hated his guts.

It was personal. Had to be. He never agreed to anything, always dragged out every damned conversation. Damned pedantic son of a bitch.

Finally, an answer: I think you need to check your code.

Check his code! Arthur did not need to check his code. “Excuse me?”

Check your code.

“No. It is two o’clock in the morning here, Doe.”

It is noon here, Lester. I have four hours to get this implemented. If you don’t fix your fucking code, I will.

And there we go. Pointless threats. Inappropriate language.

The sucky thing was, while normally altering code like this without approval would be enough to get someone fired, John Doe could get away with it.

Doe had come out of nowhere; Arthur had never heard of him, and he’d made no waves, but boom, old Hastur had promoted him to chief of cybersecurity for the whole company, and evidently paid him enough to live comfortably in the Upper East Side, Manhattan.

And Arthur had to admit: Doe was some kind of golden boy. He knew his stuff. It may feel like he sprang fully-formed from Hastur’s head, but he knew cybersecurity. It was like he had a fucking pipeline to the bad guys, the way he was able to spot exploits before anyone else could grab hold.

What Doe didn’t know was art. Or beauty. Or utility. Or any of the things Arthur’s entire life had revolved around since he was twelve and used Python to design his first Linux GUI.

Arthur sighed. He turned away from his glass walls and wraparound balcony, from the view of Melbourne at night which he could not see, and made his way to his computer.

His monitor—enormous, because all the text had to be, as well—booted up, and he sighed as he entered the usual frustrating and painful balance of trying to focus, squinting, dealing with the pain of the monitor’s brightness (without which he couldn’t see the damn screen) and adjusting the size of the text until he could handle it and read through what he’d written.

Gods, this was a gorgeous design. Lullabye, he called it, because it was designed to help after a DDOS attack, to put all relevant and endangered systems right to sleep, cutting off access, stopping whatever invasion was going on right in its tracks.

It was flawless. It was efficient. It was beautiful. It was a hell of a major project to go out on.

He could not spot whatever put Doe in a tizzy. Fuck.

The easy solution would be to give Doe permission to patch it, requiring detailed notes of what changes he made.

The medium-hard solution would be to give him permission to patch it, but live, with Arthur sharing his screen, so Doe couldn’t do anything unmonitored (and maybe Arthur could finally understand how Doe thought).

The dangerous solution was to refuse him, foment more conflict for no pay out, and watch Doe have his way, anyway.

Damn it. But it’s perfect, he thought, unable to keep from whining a little.

Arthur sighed. Carcosa had been good to him. Hastur had rewarded his artistry over and over. The ungrateful thing would be not to trust Doe. “Fine,” Arthur muttered. “Cassilda, email John Doe.”

Emailing, she replied through the implants in his head, voice as musical as he designed her to be, damn near singing.

“Permission granted to make changes to the code as long as we do a screenshare and all changes are approved by me. Send.”

Silence for a moment.

About fucking time, Lester. Here’s my number. Text is fucking faster.

This guy knew his stuff, but he did not know how to be fucking appropriate in a fucking business setting. “Is he serious?” Arthur said. Maybe he did spring fully-formed from Hastur’s head, he snorted. Being a year old would explain it all. “Reply: If you’re trying to cover your ass legally, that won’t work with a company phone.” It was both sarcasm and a warning. Also, logic. Touché!

Arthur’s smugness lasted all of the 60 seconds it took for Doe to receive and reply: I have my own personal phone and so do you. Don’t be a dick. Let’s get this done.

How did… What? Why did Doe know that? “I’m not a dick,” Arthur muttered, trying to decide if this was a great big personal information violation, or…

Well, it was, but did it really matter? He could change the number. Block Doe. Whatever he wanted to do here. And it would be quicker. The Hyades global network was faster than any email because Arthur had helped design it. (Hastur had given him an incredible bonus that year.) “Cassilda, send Doe my phone number.” Okay, why had he done that? Why? “Because I’m not a dick,” he answered himself. “I’m an idiot.”

The reply took literally as long as Doe needed to save the contact to his phone. Nice to meet you.

“We haven’t met yet, Doe,” said Arthur, replying through Cassilda.

Call me John. Now let’s fix this code.

“Damn you, there’s nothing to fix!”

An exclamation mark! A swear word! Looks like I finally got some emotion out of you.

Arthur gaped at nothing. “I will have you know that you get plenty of emotion from me. Primarily, frustration.”

Glad to know you’re not frigid. Okay, I’m sending the screenshare request now.

“Frigid? What the fuck… Wait, wait, give me a moment. Got it, got it. You prick.”

Better believe I am. Now, pay attention. Line 1004. Doe—John—read the code to him via text, because Cassilda would read it next.

Arthur paled. It had a typo.

He couldn’t see the typo. The font showed the difference between a lower-case l and a numeral 1, but he couldn’t see it.

He leaned in, face nearly to the monitor, peering. The serifs might as well have all been erased.

See it? Good. Next we’ll jump down to line 8524.

Arthur didn’t reply. He swallowed.

It was another typo, but this one… he didn’t need to know this was the big one. The typo on 1004 just rendered that bit of code inoperable; nothing would happen. But this one…

This one. Instead of a semi colon, it was a colon, which meant…

This is the big one, said John unnecessarily. Arthur didn’t reply. This one means this process keeps running, and the particular ping it creates to find the invading bug also leaves it open to malicious injection.

“I was right,” Arthur whispered, because he had been. He’d thought, deep down, this would be his last major project.

About what?

Arthur hadn’t meant to send that. He leaned back in his chair, reducing the familiar, beloved language on the screen to blurry dots and squiggles, and was surprised to find he was crying. He wiped his face, furious. “Nothing.”

Tell me. It could be relevant.

Fuck him. “It’s not relevant.”

It might be. We’re getting this fixed so you can go to bed and I can go get drunk. Come on, Lester.

He sighed. “Arthur. Just Arthur.”

All right, Just Arthur. What were you right about?

Arthur checked. Cassilda confirmed that “just” had been capitalized. Like receiving a knighthood, or something.

He laughed weakly. “Didn’t know you were funny, Doe.” A pause. “John.”

Only when it’s worth my while.

So… well, this moment was certainly worth his while. They had three hours left to implement this thing. “Just that this was my last big hurrah. That’s all. I knew. I knew it. Just didn’t want to know it, if you get what I mean.”

Why the hell had he said that?

Arthur sighed. There was no undo send with Hyades and the Carcosa phone line (Dancer—it had long put Apple out of business). It was better, Arthur believed and had argued, to have a record of communication, even when things were sent by accident. Better to have that record, legal and powerful, then try to handle the fallout of removed knowledge and the potential for deceit.

It doesn’t have to be, fucking hell.

That made him laugh for some reason. “Right. Sure.”

It doesn’t. I’m guessing the coding doesn’t work so great with Cassilda for you?

No, it had not worked with Cassilda. Cassilda could read it all out (Line 147, from enum import Enum semicolon. Line 148, class Day(Enum) colon. Line 149, all capitalized letters, MONDAY space equal sign space the numeral 1).

Yeah, he couldn’t do that. It was like trying to listen to an audiobook one godsdamned letter at a time. “It doesn’t work for what I do.”

You just need someone who knows how you think who can put your stuff into code, then. You’re good at this, Arthur.

“I’m going blind, John.” Which of course he knew. Everyone knew. Fucking TIME magazine knew.

So?

“Excuse me?”

You a betting man?

“Oh, what the hell are you saying?” Arthur muttered. “Don’t send that!”

It’s already sent, Arthur. My apologies.

He sighed. “No, it’s fine. Continue to send automatically unless instructed not to. I guess we’re doing this.”

John was scrolling on his end, highlighting bits of code and fixing them. It wasn’t a lot. The whole thing was nearly 100 million lines of code, and Arthur had made a total of four mistakes. That wasn’t bad.

Except that when Arthur could see, he never made any.

The code scrolled. Too fast; he didn’t have time to focus on what John was doing (and doing quickly, with an ease that spoke of artistry the idiot himself did not understand). The next generation, folks, picking up the slack.

One wild, intrusive thought of throwing himself off his expensive balcony later, Arthur shook it off. “What bet?”

Let’s design something together.

Oh, this could go so badly. “What?”

Don’t know yet, but here’s the catch.

“Of course there’s a catch.”

Heh, heh, heh.

What a silly text to send. Arthur’s lips quirked. “Out with it, you dork.”

You share your vision with me, and I design it. Your specs. I won’t interfere with your idea of beauty or whatever you call it. You stick to the parts you love—making it pretty, and how the user accesses it. I’ll make sure it works.

Arthur swallowed. He’d never successfully designed with anybody. It always fell apart. “I don’t know.”

Let’s make it big. We won’t announce it. If it falls apart and I lose the bet, I’ll do whatever you want. Quit. Shave my head. Whatever.

Arthur laughed. “Shave your head?”

But if I win—

Arthur waited. He frowned. “Did you fall on your overlarge head and die?”

Shut up. If I win, you have to keep creating shit, and I get to be smug at you over coffee.

Eh? “That’s—” He didn’t know what to say. “What kind of a stupid bet is that?”

Beneficial to us both. You think my best work isn’t done on your coattails? It is. My star rises and falls with yours. I need you, and for once, you need me, too.

That was too much, and Arthur walked away from the desk. He had to pace.

This shouldn’t be personal, but it was. “How the hell was that both flattering and infuriating at the same… need… what in fuck’s name…”

Of course, Casdilda sent that.

By all means, keep going. This is funny as fuck.

“Fuck you.” Arthur sat back down. He was shaken. He felt like he was a million years old.

It’s cleaned up. Do you want to test it?

“No, it’s ready to go live. I… I trust you.” Because he had to, at least in this. But this bet… insane. Insulting. Ingratiating? What the hell? How was he supposed to take this? It was the weirdest thing he’d ever been offered.

And it’s implemented. Congratulations. Updates are going out now. Got any champagne?

“It’s three in the morning. What I have is bed. We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodnight, Doe.”

It’s John. Dick.

Arthur decided not to answer out of pure pettiness, and was still churning the entire conversation in his head when he fell asleep.

------

CHAPTER TWO

Notes:

This was posted on the road and written on my phone, so I beg your patience as I correct inevitable coding errors typos. Also, the tech stuff is made up. Just pretend it’s an alternative future. We’re all here for John and Arthur, anyway.