#i need to figure out names for the evil raccoons now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tomwambsmilk · 2 years

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Racoonstar Ratco... Im intrigued

@localgays2

@lastfridgemagnetleft

I am SO GLAD you all asked!! You WILL regret it :)

raccoonstar ratco is an AU that vi @togansweep and I developed on a Friday night in June 2022 over the course of 4 hours on Discord while getting increasingly drunk on white wine. It has EVERYTHING. evil tomgreg. were-creatures. President Connor. planes. tom and greg trying to kill each other. unethical medical experimentation. world war III. frogan AND togan. mpreg. the sewers of tuscany. Kendall going on a personal apology journey. the culinary arts. melodrama. Marie Kondo.

It all began with one concept - every month Tom reads a different productivity book with a different productivity system and then makes Greg completely overhaul their workflow setup for whatever the newest system is. That's how he ends up making Greg "Marie Kondo" his office, which does NOT work because when he asks Geg what 'sparks joy' the only things Greg did NOT say yes to were highly important files about revenue projections and ad contracts. Tom did not immediately realize that this was a fucking stupid thing to get rid of, and so Greg spent Friday night dumpster diving behind the Waystar building. After this Tom starts calling Greg his "little raccoon", at first as a joke and then suddenly unironically oops what happened there. One day he asks an admin assistant to get xyz numbers from “his little raccoon” before the afternoon meeting within earshot of Logan, who takes a week to process and then decides it’s a dominance thing and starts referring to his own minions as little raccoons.

Of course, the rumour that Greg was going through Tom’s trash spreads through LackeySlack like wildfire. Greg knows if Tom catches him fully denying it he’ll throw shit at him but he needs to save face, so he says that Tom had left something sensitive in there and asked him to retrieve it. This, unfortunately, just makes everything worse. The rumour reaches Logan, who won't accept the way tom is handling sensitive documents, leaving them in the trash and all; especially now he's in a higher position. So he calls him to his office, and after giving him some angry speech he calls tom "my little racoon" and they have hatesex (togan real!!). Afterwards they change the company name to Gaystar Boyco and double down on their economic conservatism in an attempt not to fully lose their base. They're campaigning for gay rights AND the obliteration of the social safety net. Anyways eventually somehow Frank gets involved and they have a three-way and Frank gets pregnant because surprise! This is an abo au but only when we want it to be. Frank is actually pregnant with twins, one from Tom and one from Logan.

Poor Greg is still out dumpster-diving behind Waystar, and Events Transpire and he gets turned into a were-raccoon and goes into hiding because he's afraid of how everyone will react. One day, Tom’s taking the Frank babies out for a stroll when a giant NYC rat with latent lycanthropy tries to launch itself into the baby carriage, as New York rats do. Tom bravely defends them but is bitten and becomes a wererat. When Tom first gets bitten he’s Ashamed of his transformation and hides in the sewers with the other wererats. Wereraccoon Greg hasn’t spoken to him since togan became a thing, but he hears about the rat attack on the news and then Tom’s apparent disappearance and gets concerned, so he hits up his were-network to figure out where he might be. He sneaks into the sewer system to talk to Tom, knowing that the were-rats and the were-raccoons are mortal enemies, and if he’s caught he’ll almost certainly be killed. Tom refuses to speak to him at first but Greg is persistent, and eventually they begin carrying on a secret romance. Greg finds out that ratfucker Sam and Tom had an affair before Greg was able to track Tom down, and in a fit of anguish he kills ratfucker Sam. As it turns out ratfucker Sam was a high-ranking werewolf, and so Greg is banished from the were-community of NYC. Greg flees the country, and Tom, devastated, goes after him.

Tom learns that Greg, post-banishment, has been living in a sewer in Paris and goes there to find him. Greg is delighted to see him but embarrassed by the abode, he serves Tom a home-cooked meal that he made from scavenged garbage can scraps which he keeps apologizing for. It’s the best meal Tom’s ever eaten, including ortolan. Which is when Tom sees the plan - they’ll start a world-class restaurant using Greg’s amazing culinary skills and Tom’s business acumen.

At this point we had a slight interruption from @eastgaysian:

Anyways. As mentioned above Greg writes a biography of their smashing success as were-creatures in the restaurant business and Tom edits it to focus on their torrid and passionate affair and this goes back and forth for a while.

(This conversation was in our pre-Tommy milk days, so after Tommy milk became a thing we retconned this part of the AU so that their success was because of the rich Tommy Milk they used in their dishes, which was at its best when Tom was drunk off white wine from a very particular region of France. They eventually built a small empire selling Tom's milk on the side, but the board got greedy and started keeping Tom drunk all the time and eventually Greg got fed up with them treating Tom like an actual cow and took Tom and fled back to NYC where Tom had the worst hangover of his life.)

What about the Roy siblings? What have they been up to? Well, for a little while they tried to write an op-ed to take down Logan, but they couldn't agree on what to say so they all wrote competing op-eds and sued each other over it. This particular storyline is so universally critically panned (bc yes this is all happening on Succession the show) that in Season 5 their private jet disappears over the Atlantic Ocean and they’re never heard from again - except for Connor, who becomes the President. He also learns of Tom and Greg’s plight and is motivated to introduce legislation to end discrimination against were-creatures, for which he wins the Nobel Peace Prize. Connor is such a well-loved president that they abolish term limits and he stays president for 20 years, until the Frank + Tom's baby is old enough to run for office office. The Tank baby runs against him and it’s a perfect 50-50 tie, AND a 50-50 tie in the senate or whatever the tiebreaker is (idk I’m not American), so in the end they decide to simply co-rule.

In the meantime, Tom and Greg have started their own company, called Racconstar Ratco, which becomes incredibly successful, allowing them to take over Waystar Royco/Gaystar Boyco. They become the richest and most powerful were-men in the world - so powerful, in fact, eventually through their political influence non-were-people become an oppressed class. In order to work at raccoonstar ratco you have to be turned into a wererat or wereraccoon; people who have been turned are known as "purebloods". Marriage between were and non-were people becomes culturally taboo, largely due to a massive campaign on the part of raccoonstar ratco. The children of were-people and non-were people are looked down upon by people on both sides of the political spectrum.

30 years into this the Roy siblings emerge into this strange new world - their plane was simply caught in a time warp! They must struggle to find their footing and advocate for themselves and their fellow non-werepeople. (Also they learn that Logan and Frank both died in a bizarre skidoo accident that was never fully explained.) They also discover that Connor has been turned into a were-raccoon by Greg. Were-raccoon Connor is a well-kept secret, though, bc Connor for the last 10 years has been running on a platform of non-were people rights in order to get elected, and then simply not following through bc raccoonstar ratco funds his campaigns. Even the Tank baby doesn’t know - in fact, the Tank baby was secretly turned into a were-rat by Tom. Greg knows that Connor is a were-raccoon and Tom knows that the Frank baby is a were-rat, but they each turned their respective guy in order to have a Personal Edge, so they’re hiding it from each other.

For the first time in their lives the Roy siblings experience what it's like to be truly repressed, and this causes some revelations. Kendall goes on an arduous personal journey to apologize to very single person he feels he discriminated against. Kendall also offers to accompany Shiv and Roman on their own personal apology journeys, but they are Not Interested. When he finally gets back, they decide they need to kill Tom and Greg. They decide to leak the truth about Connor and the Tank baby being were-creatures in the hope this will start a revolution, but it fails miserably, and they’re arrested by officers of raccoonstar ratco (who also fund law enforcement) for disturbing the peace and fomenting revolution. They can't even find a non-were lawyer, because everyone has been turned into a were-person at this point and the Roy siblings minus Connor are the only normal people left.

After the trial they don't have to go to prison, but instead they're put in some sort of zoo as an exhibit. Tom visits Shiv in her cell, secretly, with cameras off and no guards watching, to offer her a deal - let him turn her into a wererat and they can rule raccoonstar ratco together. Tom’s becoming increasingly convinced that the only true pure were-race is the were-rat, and he wants to suppress other were-races, including were-raccoons. (It’s a difficult decision for him because he does love Greg, but he simply cannot ignore the biological differences between them any longer.)

(Also they’ll change the name to ratstar ratco. Obviously.)

Shiv refuses, because of course. Tom is upset, but he will not let this stop him from starting the were-rat revolution. Because he does love Greg and can't just leave him behind he decides to do an experiment and bites Greg during sex to see if he can turn him from a were-raccoon into a were-rat. It ends up turning Greg into a bizarre were-rat-raccoon hybrid. Truly monstrous to look at - the overload of lycanthropy in his system means that he now physically resembles both a rat and a raccoon at all times. He loses the ability to speak human language. Tom is absolutely devastated, utterly heartbroken. He summons the best were-doctors to try and fix Greg, to no avail. Ultimately, he decides the most loving thing to do is put Greg out of his misery - but Greg overhears him discussing this plan with the were-doctor and flees into the Nevada desert. There he lives out his days in peace, and at some point he runs into, surprise surprise, the Contessa who has also turned into a rat raccoon hybrid. They make babies and start a new species.

Meanwhile, Tom is utterly depressed without Greg. He's lost all his will to live, and has no idea how to move on with his life. The Contessa still technically had a valid claim to the throne of Luxembourg, so once their children are of age they decide to move to Europe and attempt to assert the claim. It goes poorly, and in the end they end up taking the throne in a violent coup, implementing a reign of terror throughout Luxembourg. This shocks Tom, who assumed Greg was dead (and is also apparently immortal bc otherwise this timeline is well and truly fucked).

In the meantime, Tom had successfully taken were-rat power in the Americas, suppressing all other races. This means that the Americas are now a pure-blood wererat paradise, and Europe is a land where mixed-were creatures reign supreme. Tom is angry and betrayed that Greg ran off and married the contessa and had children with her. Greg is angry and betrayed that Tom tried to kill him (also he eventually learned to speak again with the contessa’s help). Using Frank + Tom’s co-president daughter as a go-between, they attempt to meet at a political summit on neutral ground. They end up declaring war on each other. (Tom is not technically the president but since his daughter is he can basically do that).

They’re neck and neck for a long time. Countless losses are suffered on both sides, giving rise to significant anti-war sentiments in both countries. Tom tries to murder the Contessa; Greg tries to destroy the ratstar ratco building. Eventually the anti-war sentiment rises to a fever pitch, and both of them are subject to violent revolution from their own people and are forced to flee. (The contessa is tragically killed in the revolution). Each of them individually decided to flee to Italy, the location of their last truly happy memories together. (Italy somehow avoided getting caught up in the war). They each, individually decide to visit the Tuscan sewers.

They see each other in the sewers for the first time in years. They are overwhelmed with emotion. Tom starts weeping. Greg also starts weeping. They lay their weapons down. They embrace. They kiss. They make love. (In the sewer). They forgive each other.

And finally, after having so many babies with other people, they have babies with each other. They live in the sewer with their children for many years, a peaceful, simple life, full of old joys they had long forgotten about. They start cooking together again, something they hadn't done since their time in Paris. Their children grow up and have their own children. Before long, they are the patriarchs of a thriving Tuscan sewer were-rat-raccoon colony with a deep devotion to the culinary arts. It has been many years since they’ve had contact with the outside world.

Then one day, one of their descendants has news. She has met someone… from outside the colony.

They are initially thrown into a panic. What if their carefully crafted ecosystem comes crashing down? What if this interloper drives a wedge between them? What if they HATE GARLIC? WHAT IF THEY HATE CHEESE?? But then they take some time to reflect on their own hard-earned life experiences, and they realize that no good will come from standing in the way of love. After all, look what happened to them. So, they agree to meet her beau.

What she did NOT tell them, though, is that her beau is not a were-person at all.

Something UTTERLY UNHEARD OF in this day and age.

How can this be???????

Well, as it turns out…..

Frank had a third child.

With KARL.

When he walks into the sewer, Tom IMMEDIATELY recognizes him… he’d know that nose anywhere. He doesn’t know who the other father is, but that’s 110% a Frank baby. He sighs at the thought of adding this to his family tree, which is already complicated enough.

(Genuinely his immediate worry is not even the genetic makeup but the very literal and EXTRAORDINARILY complex pepe silvia-esque family tree diagram he and Greg have carved into the sewer walls. And by "he and Greg" I really mean just Tom because Greg does not see the point. Their conversations about it always go along the lines of "uuuh yes, great Tom! it looks, like, really good!" "It does not look good Greg, it's utterly and completely wrong!!! have you been listening to a word I'm saying??")

Tom is shocked, but he puts that aside. They have dinner. (This new Frank baby objects to neither garlic nor cheese, which is a relief.) However, they’ve been in this sewer for so long, eventually he has to ask - what news of the outside world? The new Frank baby tells him that after the revolution that unseated him and Greg, the globe entered an unprecedented era of peace. All types of were-people lived together in harmony. And eventually, after much lobbying, even the Roy siblings were released from their captivity. However, several years ago Connor disappeared under mysterious circumstances, and Tom’s daughter with Frank has been slowly and steadily consolidating an alarming amount of power.

(Tom sighs as he realizes his genes have once again possibly fucked over the entire civilized world. "Tom don't worry, it happens to the best of us!" Greg says. “Of course you would say that, Greg, it’s your fucking family that got us in this mess in the first place”. Tom is very tempted to throw his plate of food at Greg's head, but they've been to couples therapy where he learned that whenever he has an urge like this he has to name 15 different types of cheese in his head to calm himself down.)

After much soul-searching, Tom decides that he must travel to America to confront his daughter. The thought is frightening. He has not left this sewer in many, many years. Greg offers to go with him, but Tom feels this is something he must do alone. He travels to America, hoping his daughter will remember him. She does, and he is granted an audience with her. He is led into the Oval Office, but no one else is in there. He sits on a couch and waits. Eventually, the door opens, and in walks his daughter. And then, following close behind…..

SHIV

Tom is in shock. How could this be!?!?!?!?!!?

Well. It turns out that while the Roy siblings were in there zoo, Shiv started devising a plan, should they ever be released, to overcome the were-people and return the world to its “natural order”. But first, she needed to find a non-were person she had no biological relation to to procreate with. When she was released, she studied the annals of what happened while they were stuck in the time warp, and learned of the two Frank babies. But she was sharp, and when she kept digging, she saw signs of a third. She tracked down the Krank baby and persuaded him to give her some of his sperm that she could pair with some of her eggs. (She did not fully explain her plan, she just offered him a fuckton of money, and he was super broke.) She then approached the Elon musk Frogan baby, and together they developed an artificial womb and then a cloning facility, where they’ve been essentially growing a secret army of non-were people.

But Shiv needed political leverage. So, she approached the president - Tom’s daughter, who felt abandoned by Tom after the whole World War III debacle. She persuaded her that the problem was Tom’s were-rat nature, and that were-people were evil. She convinced her to use her political leverage to kill Connor and give Shiv access to the White House while consolidating power, so they can try to suppress the were-people. She also worked with the Frogan baby to develop a cure to lycanthropy, so she herself won’t have to be a were-rat any longer.

(What happened to the other Roy siblings, you ask? Kendall has been trying and failing to become a famous rapper and Roman became a consort to Swedish were-king Matsson. They aren’t important.)

("Plottwist, didn't see that coming!" is what Greg says when tom tells him the story over the phone.)

Shiv openly tells him all of this, which surprises Tom. Why? Well, first off, he’s not allowed to leave. (Surprise!) They keep him prisoner in the White House, although it’s a rather luxurious imprisonment and he is allowed to talk to Greg on the phone. He also does not have to make his own toilet wine.

(“Well, that sounds like a plus!” Greg says when Tom mentions that last part. "Well, no, it isn't Greg. they only let me drink red wine! how do they expect me to survive without my whorewater??? This is their way to kill me, Greg, this is the end." To distract himself from the pain tom takes up knitting, and he knits himself a red scarf. He looks really cute in it actually.)

After a few weeks Tom goes increasingly stir-crazy. And then, Shiv’s other angle is revealed when she offers him her own version of the deal he offered her many years ago - let her cure him of his lycanthropy, and they can rule the world together. Tom’s torn. He knows that if he doesn’t take the deal, he’ll be imprisoned here forever, slowly going insane and knitting increasingly colourful scarves. But if he does… Well, he’s built his whole life around his were-family. He’ll lose everything that’s grown to be important to him. He’ll lose Greg.

("I need to... I need to consider my options, Shiv, you understand that right?" "Tom, you can't be serious. are you really considering not taking this deal just because you want to... I don't know what it is you did before coming here, knit scarves with my cousin?")

He’s in conflicted agony for weeks. He does not tell Greg what Shiv offered him, but Greg knows something is wrong, so Tom starts calling less and less so that he doesn’t give it away. He knits approximately ten more scarves.

(The last one has a complicated star pattern that was tricky and he’s actually kind of proud of. He plans on giving it to Greg, if he ever sees him again. He's stitched GJHW - for Gregory John Hirsch-Wambsgans - into the hem.)

After weeks of thinking and knitting and softly weeping at night, he comes to his decision. He decides to take Shiv’s deal. It’s a heart-rending decision. But she’s going to take over the world regardless - she has the power and the ambition - and he’s unlikely to ever see Greg and his many were-children ever again no matter what he does. But maybe, if he takes this deal, he can try and protect them from the horrors Shiv intends to unleash. He strokes the Greg scarf one last time while wiping away a tear, then he pulls himself together and goes to Shiv to break the news.

("I knew you'd come around, Wambsgans, you're a lot smarter than you look".)

The treatment for lycanthropy is simple - an injection that will kill any traces of it in his symptom. Shiv and the Frogan baby have been developing it for quite some time, and they’re very confident in it. Tom is, however, the first human subject.

("Shiv, are you absolutely sure this is going to work? that I will not, oh I don't know, DIE?" “Don’t be dramatic, Tom, only 38% of the rats we tested it on died.”)

It’s a truly awful experience, and he actually does feel like he might die. He feels like his veins are on fire. It goes on for hours and hours. Eventually, he passes out from pain and exhaustion. But when he comes to -

He knows that it worked. He feels... reborn. but at the same time, it feels like a fundamental part of him died. It's an odd sensation, and he's not sure he likes it.

He has to tell Greg. He doesn't want to, but it's necessary. He owes him that much. He doesn’t want to do it over the phone. It feels wrong. Cruel. So he goes to Shiv, and asks if he can return to his Tuscan sewer one last time. She agrees, but only if she goes with him. The last thing he wants is for Shiv to be there to witness him breaking Greg's heart, but he has no other choice.

When they arrive, Greg runs out to meet him - but when he sees Shiv he stops, confusion on his face. Then he looks at Tom again, and his eyes widen. He knows immediately what Tom did.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Greg. I hope you can forgive me, I had no other choice." Tom reaches out for him. It’s been so long, and this is the last time he’ll ever see Greg. He wants more than anything to touch him. But Greg recoils from him, shaking his head in horror.

"Don't touch me" "Greg, I did this for us! for our children! don't you understand? this was the only way to keep you safe, Greg, Sporus... I... I didn't want it to end like this. please look at me, Greg."

Tom hands over a small package.

"Open it."

Greg hesitates, but does it anyway.

It's a scarf, one of the most beautiful scarfs he's ever seen. then he notices the little initials.

"GJHW? did you make this?"

"I told you I picked up knitting, didn't I?"

Their eyes meet. There is so much grief there. Tom wills Greg to understand, to believe him when he says he did it for them. Greg swallows thickly and then nods a little, and Tom knows that he gets it. He reaches up, and in an echo of a gesture from many lifetimes ago, takes Greg’s face in his hands and kisses him tenderly on the forehead.

Then he has to go. He doesn’t want to, but he has to. He looks at Greg’s face for a long time, committing it to memory -

And then, with a heavy heart, he turns back to Shiv.

This is the way it has to be. This is real life, not "Pride and Prejudice." Not every relationship ends like Mr darcy and Elizabeth. In reality, sacrifices have to be made. Tom knows he's made the right choice, even though it feels like his heart is being stabbed from every direction. Sometimes, if you truly love someone, sometimes you have to do things that hurt you more than anything, but you have to do it. To protect them, to keep them safe. And this thought, though depressing at first glance, is what gives Tom a small, minuscule feeling of happiness. He realizes that he's privileged to have known Greg, to have experienced his love, and how after everything they've been through he still loves him more than he could ever put into words. They've been on opposite sides of a war for fucks sake, and still, he would give up the world for Greg. That's love, he thinks; true, selfless love. and it's what he keeps repeating to himself while glancing back to get one last look at Greg. But he's already gone.

Greg is devastated. Heartbroken. He goes back into their sewer- well, his sewer now. He’s swarmed by his were-children, asking what’s wrong, but he shakes them off and goes to what used to be his and Tom’s bedchambers, alone. He drapes the scarf Tom gave him across the headboard. He locks himself in there for days, not eating, not speaking to anyone. His were-children grow concerned. Eventually, the oldest and boldest of them threatens to break down the door, and so he lets her in and tells her what happened. She’s quiet for a long moment. Then, she says, softly:

“We’re gonna make those fuckers pay”

......................... And that's more or less the end? At this point it was 4am in Vi's part of the world so we called it quits for the night. Since then we'll periodically go "Hey, we should finish racconstar ratco", but the truth is that it's been unfinished for so long now that I'm kind of attached to it in this form.

(Also this whole thing was written in a very specific alcohol and exhaustion- fuelled headspace that I don't know either of us will ever be able to replicate, and I'm not sure we could do it justice otherwise.)

#if I was really evil I'd put this in the succession tag. but I'm not feeling evil this morning

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thestayathomedragon · 1 year

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This thing has like two different 'verses living in it now. The "Luis is back because of some unique plaga infection he got as a kid" 'verse and the "Luis is back because Leon made a stupid deal with a devil" 'verse. I really need to come up with better names for these. This one is part of the latter.

you put the ‘fun’ into dysfunction.

Leon hadn’t known Luis very long before the man was taken from his life just as quickly as he’d entered it.

In fact, they had only just met. The first hours of their budding relationship were spent fighting for their and each other’s lives in arguably the worst place on Earth at the time.

Because by the time Leon had shown up in search of “Baby Eagle”, the once idyllic, if not a little backwater, birthplace of Luis Serra Navarro had been turned into a nightmare hellscape. All due to a rather virulent parasitic infection and the death cult that worshipped said ‘rather virulent parasitic infection’.

Leon couldn’t help but feel little sorry for the guy even if he had become a bit of a pain in his ass.

During his journey through the village, Leon slowly accumulated bits and pieces of the place’s history. This of course included bits and pieces of Luis’s history. Though, never enough to get a full picture of the man but more than enough to learn that Luis probably wasn’t as carefree as he tried to portray. Opportunities to talk were few and far between. But that really didn’t stop Luis from trying. And somehow it didn’t stop Leon from getting attached. As much as he tried to fight it at first, the man grew on him. No matter how irritated Leon got with him, Luis just seemed to take it in stride. He seemed to enjoy needling Leon just get a rise out of him.

And Leon knew he could be a little hot headed when the mood struck him. And Luis struck him. Over and over again.

It probably didn’t help that he was also fighting off a quickly advancing plaga infection at the time.

In a fit of frustration, Leon had snatched the other man up by the collar and asked him what his problem with him was.

Luis had actually looked confused and maybe just a little hurt. And that’s when Leon realized it. Down in the caves, after having spent almost an entire day in this place, he realized that Luis had probably spent days, weeks, years in this place.

How long had it been since he’d had another normal functioning human being to talk to? Someone he could trust that wouldn’t try to use or kill him at the first opportunity?

Being the only person not currently being piloted by a giant arthropod (Yes, Luis taught him that word. And yes, shut up.) must have really sucked. Definitely not because of the ‘not being piloted by a giant arthropod’ part but more for the running and hiding for your life from locals that probably knew you back when you still wore diapers part.

Talk about traumatizing.

If Leon had been chased through Raccoon City by his old babysitter while wielding an axe at him, instead of a bunch of, though no less unfortunate, strangers, he would probably be a lot more fucked up than he already was.

Leon figured that Luis probably talked so much because he finally had someone to talk to.

From that point on, Leon went a bit easier on the guy. Which was a lot easier to do once he’d had the man’s suppressant in his system. And once he did, he found that the guy was actually pretty funny. And thoughtful. And a lot smarter than he initially let on. Maybe there was something to that ‘I’m the brains and you’re the brawn” comment. Luis was apparently some kind of genius after all. Formally, one of Umbrella’s finest according to Hunnigan’s files. And not that Leon wasn’t still wrestling with that revelation, but the guy was still surprisingly easy to like.

Not only that, but Luis was actually pretty competent in a fight. He’d saved Leon’s ass more times than the military trained special agent wanted to admit. Though, if he were the kind of man to keep count, and he was, he’s say he’d still saved the other man’s hide more. Nonetheless, Luis had more than earned his keep. The former cult scientist was always ready with extra ammo when Leon needed it. Where he kept all of it in that form fitting jacket of his, Leon had never figured out.

When their trek through the maze-like caverns of the mines ended up stretching out to over a day, they found themselves with a lot of down time surprisingly. He’s gotten a few more bits and pieces of Luis’s life practically handed to him. It was like the guy couldn’t stand the silence and Leon didn’t really have the heart to keep telling the guy to shut up anymore so he listened. Luis told him about the village before all of this. About his grandfather, the man in the picture he’d found at the cabin where they had first met, and the boy in the picture of course had been Luis.

“You were a blond?”

Luis chuckled, “When I was a kid, yes. It got a lot darker as I got older. My grandfather said my mother had been the same way.” He shrugged.

Leon could see it. The man’s hair still had a few strands here and there of dark golden hair.

He wasn’t sure why, but Leon started to share more of his own life in turn. It turned out that the two of them had more in common than they ever would have imagined. Too bad it was all the fucked-up shit.

Which included their own personal grievances with Umbrella. Though, they both danced around that shared trauma. It was a little too close to the surface still it seemed. But they had easily bonded over all the rest.

The other man’s company was a comfort in the too quiet hours they spent in those mines. As much as Leon tried to ignore it, he recognized that look that Luis got sometimes. He’d seen it in the mirror almost everyday for years now. It was so many things… too many things honestly, but the most prominent of those things was loneliness.

It was the first time Leon felt like someone could understand him. Luis had lost his entire family entirely too young as well and had been forced to fend for himself at a young age. Though Leon had experienced losing his own family as well, he had at least been lucky enough to be taken into the system. He never would have imagined he would have ever been grateful for his experiences in uncertainty of the foster care system until he realized Luis had not had that same option. Leon couldn’t imagine having to feed, clothe and house himself all his own as a preteen. The guy was actually a lot tougher than he looked as it turned out. And though Luis didn’t go into details at the time, he had hinted at having to do some things that he wasn’t exactly proud of to get by.

Leon didn’t push. A man had a right to his secrets. Leon certainly had plenty of his own he had no plans on sharing.

Instead of dwelling on his childhood, Luis chose to focus on his university years. Tucked away in some off shoot of the tunnels, hiding away from their pursuers before continuing their journey. Luis quietly detailed his experience as having to take jobs here and there to support himself while he attended school. Even with the stressors of having to do it all on his own, Luis had still been able to earn his Graduate degree and Doctorate by the time Leon was finishing up his police training. Luis had been hired on by Umbrella before the ink was even dry on his diploma.

“So, you really are some sort of super nerd then, huh?” Leon asked while smirking at the other man, feeling uncharacteristically playful toward his unexpected companion.

Luis had chuckled in response, his usual good nature still holding strong despite their current situation and the turns their conversation had taken. “I suppose so. Didn’t have time to waste. And you were some copper in a sleepy little American town.”

Leon’s smile waned a bit then but tried to keep up appearances. “I wouldn’t have exactly called it sleepy.” And left it at that, he was still trying to process, trying to make sense of what he’d read about Luis in Hunnigan’s report and what he’d learned of the man during their time together.

“I’m just trying to make myself feel better…”

Maybe one of those things was quite a bit of guilt too.

Leon could admit that he might have started to like the guy more than a little bit by then. He told himself that he was just impressed with Luis’s spirit. That they man hadn’t just given up despite his dire circumstances. Leon could admire a man that who was willing to put in the work. To keep getting up after being knocked down over and over again.

He could definitely relate.

But it wasn’t like they were best friends or anything like that just because they had shared a few stories here and there. They were just two people forced together under extraordinary circumstances. Leon was more than familiar with this scenario.

Trauma bonds.

After Raccoon City he’d been shuffled off to a therapist who had talked about it with him more than once. Claire, Sherry… Marvin… Ada. They had come up in session more than once though not by name. Still, they had become some of the most important people in Leon’s life. People who he had gained through some of the worse times of his life. People he loved so fiercely that it scared him to think about sometimes. He’d already come to terms with the fact that Ashley was sure to join those ranks soon enough but now it seemed that Luis would now also be added to that list.

“What are your plans after all this?” Leon had asked the former cult scientist turned cult defector.

Luis had given him a little smile then, dark gray eyes glinting in the low light, the purple glow of the Merchant’s light reflecting off his skin making him look soft and otherworldly.

He hadn’t thought that far ahead, Luis had said then. And for the first time Leon thought that maybe Luis didn’t think he would make it out of this place. Even after fighting all this time on his own well before Leon had shown up. Leon thought that maybe the other man thought that there wasn’t any point in making plans.

Luis had thrown his lot in with Leon and Ashley instead of leaving on his own. Even now that he was free of his own plaga infection, Luis still chose to stay and risk his life to help them and because of that Leon decided then and there that he’d make sure Luis made it out this too.

If only yet another member of Leon’s fucked up trauma family hadn’t felt differently.

The last leg of their journey saw the two of them go on a quite frankly insane journey through the remainder of the mines, traveling by a barely controlled minecart. Luis’s idea. Leon had thought the man had finally lost what was left of his sanity to suggest something so ridiculous. But without any other idea of how they could travel the impossible terrain on foot and the fact that they were running out of time, Leon had quickly given in.

It had been a truly unique experience. The two of them had exchanged wild glances more than once during it. Luis cheering the other man on when he made a particularly impressive shot while they raced along the track while being pursued by infected minors and chainsaw wielding maniacs. The grin on Luis’s face was infectious. He’d even crowed that it was ‘kinda fun.’

Leon might have agreed with the man a little at that point, but he’d kept it to himself. He had a feel that Luis might have figured it out anyway if the look on the other man’s face was any indication.

The last mad dash through the final bit of the mines on foot while fighting off a horde of man-sized bugs, had left both of them nearly mad with adrenaline. Neither of them able to believe that they made it through in one piece. Both of them grinning, high on their hard-won seemingly immortal status.

Leon was hesitant to admit it at the time but it felt… nice… not having to go through these horrors alone. To have someone there to watch his back. And well it helped that that someone wasn’t half bad to look at. He surprised himself with that thought and quickly pushed it aside. He really should know better by now.

Though all it took was that intrusive thought and one faulty elevator and things between them quickly skipped right on from ‘hesitant associates’, past the tentative bonds of a new friendship and careened just as wilding as their ‘trusty’ minecart into something else painfully familiar.

Leon wasn’t a stranger to ill-advised romantic entanglements. Ada may have been the first, but she certainly hadn’t been the last. Though, to be fair, romantic was probably a generous description for what took place in that elevator.

Leon wasn’t exactly that shy, rookie cop floored by a kiss from a beautiful FBI agent anymore.

If there was one thing his years of grueling military training and the deadly missions that followed had taught him, it was confidence in the body he had worked so hard on and well, that you didn’t turn down a hot Spanish scientists no matter what gender they happened to be. And you especially didn’t do it when you weren’t sure if either of you were going to make it out of this alive.

It could have been his last chance to get laid after all and Luis looked like he might have known a thing or two about getting laid.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed the way Luis looked at him sometimes. Especially since Leon had done his fair share of looking himself. It certainly hadn’t helped that Luis wasn’t exactly subtle about showing off the goods. Leon could blame it on the adrenaline rush. The heat of the moment. Any and all the excuses he needed to end up in Luis’s pants were welcome.

So, as these sorts of things often do, one thing led to another, then another, then another other. The culmination of those another others being Leon pinning the other man against the nearest flat surface and fucking his brains out.

Afterwards, Leon remembered that there was definitely a reason that he at least tried not to mix business with pleasure.

He had this annoying habit of getting attached.

Though, to be fair, Leon was probably well on his way to ‘attached’ long before Luis shoved his hand down the front of his pants and his tongue down his throat.

What really surprised him, however, was how normal it all seemed afterward. How normal Luis had been about it.

This had become a bit of a problem.

Leon had finally come to terms with the fact that Dr. Luis Serra Navarro was not Dr. William Birkin. He wasn’t some evil, sociopathic, mad scientist trying to turn him into his next fucked up bio-engineered nightmare.

He was just some guy. Some insanely smart guy who had tried to do something good, failed and instead got caught up in some really fucked up shit… twice now. And now was doing what he could to make up for it while he still could.

Luis was just some extremely unlucky guy.

And Leon liked him.

He liked him a lot.

Leon thought that he might even miss him when this was all over with, and they had to go their separate ways.

Turns out he’d been right.

#my fanfic #fic: .scar.crossed.lovers.#au: hold me like a grudge verse #ch: you put the ‘fun’ into dysfunction.#luis serra #luis serra navarro #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #re4 remake #re4r #serennedy #serennedy demon au

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mrbottomhat69 · 5 days

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Ideas from a scrapped Resident Evil fic series y'all can have

Context: About two years ago or so, I got dragged by my ankles into the RE fandom after I saw the 2002 movie and that made me determined to write plot out a multi-fic saga about a repurposed original character loosely experiencing the events of the numbered games (except 0, 1, and 7 for continuity reasons). By "loosely experienced" I mean either she was there and her presence only changed minor plot detailsd, she had her own side story during one of the games, or having her own story a decent amount of time before canon events. The other parts were from another OC's perspective and a bunch of filler stories to patch up timeline gaps and cover other canon material.

I wrote a couple excerpts here and there, but the outline never really got the chance to blossom into a full fic. That's why I'm giving it to you. Ideas are as followed:

The Umbrella Corporation has a vice-like grip on Raccoon City to the point their logo is everywhere. On buildings, in buildings, on any product that isn't name-brand, on the logo of the local news station, anywhere they can pay to put it there. Some people don't notice and some joke that the logo feels like it's following them around, watching them. For others, it feels more like a warning than a joke: Umbrella is always watching.

Main Character is a teenager growing up in Raccoon City pre-outbreak. They know the city like the back of their hand, but is aware the city holds a lot of unanswered questions under its idealic facade. Why does a place with such a low crime rate need a personal S.W.A.T. team that's constantly active? What's up with all the weird art in the police department building? Is the Spencer mansion a historical site and, if it is, why is nobody allowed to go there? Why is nobody else noticing these things? Bonus points if they put together a Pepe Sylvia-style conspiracy board.

Main character is thrust into the middle of the outbreak and has to try and fight their way out... but realizes that the infected seem to ignore them for some reason.

Main character is a prototype of Umbrella's newest bioweapon. They look human, but are very aware they aren't. They're aware of their powers and their purpose, but they don't want to hurt anything and only really desire to be seen as "one of the humans" despite it all. The only thing in the way of that goal is their creators.

Main character is part of a team doing a recon mission to get data from an Umbrella lab somewhere in the world. When the team gets there, though, the place looks abandoned. All the traps are still active and the electronics still run as usual, but it's empty like everyone there spontaneously vanished. And once they do find bodies that show signs of infection, they haven't shown signs that they'll suddenly get up again. In fact, their bodies look perfectly preserved by whatever infected them.

Main character needs to claim some kind of money from a parent via the legal system, but is unexpectedly denied. It isn't until they do some research that they find out they're owned by the same company that's responsible for all those zombie virus outbreaks. They're legally considered a product and now they have to figure out why.

You can use one, a couple, or all these ideas. You don't have to ask for my permission to use these or credit me in your fic, but if you wanna tell me what you're doing with these ideas, I'd love to hear it! I love hearing what people come up with.

#resident evil #re fanfic #fic ideas #fic prompt

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agonycrossbow · 7 months

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Leon Kennedy’s wiki page is filled with lies and bullshit

And whoever is running the wiki is so afraid of being told that they’re wrong that editing on it is currently disabled -- so I figured I’d just compile a list of errors on my own.

This isn’t fully comprehensive, because my eyes started to glaze over at a certain point, but. It is color coordinated and fully explained.

If you need to reference Leon’s wiki for any reason, please make sure that you have this post up also as well, so that you’re not pulling bad information. Most of the wiki is fine, but there are some things in here, man. People really do just be going on the internet and telling lies.

Notice how there's no citation for this. The source that's actually being pulled from is an offhanded comment the RE2 concept artist made in an art book that Capcom released called Capcom Design Works. It was only ever released in Japan.

Concept artists don't have access to the script and aren't involved with the actual creation of the character. Concept artists are given a general description of what a character should look like and what their general demeanor is. The devs told this artist specifically to make Leon look tanned, so the artist wondered if maybe Leon's heritage was from somewhere in southern Europe — maybe Italy?

It is important to know that Leon's character was conceived and had art drawn of him back when Resident Evil 2 had a completely different story. A different version of RE2 reached 80% completion before being scrapped and completely redone from the ground up. The story changed dramatically. Claire Redfield wasn't even in this original version of RE2; it was a different character entirely named Elza Walker. (source one, source two)

Ergo, even if the intention was to give Leon an Italian background originally, that story no longer exists and has nothing to do with the version of Resident Evil 2 that actually released.

This isn't a big deal, but "offered" is a really funny way of saying "threatened into."

Leon also was never in USSTRATCOM. That's a bullshit lie based on an old build of RE4 that never got released and was, in fact, turned into the game Haunting Ground instead.

None of this is ever stated in the games. This is pulled from a promotional marketing interview from 1997 — so, before RE2 was even finished or released. There's a decent chance that this interview was done right after 1.5 got thrown out and 2's final story wasn't even fully realized yet.

Capcom has actually given Leon several different backgrounds throughout the years, and none of them have ever made it into the games.

The official Resident Evil 2 novelization has Leon fresh out of college and moving to Raccoon City from New York.

Welcome to Raccoon City wrote that Leon's dad was a cop, and that's how he got into the force, too.

But there's no indication of any of them being true for Leon as he exists in the games. There's no reason to think of the crime background as any more or less canon than the other two, except maybe that someone just likes it better?

In fact, part of that crime backstory is outwardly and explicitly contradicted in Resident Evil 2 itself:

So take that for what you will.

The wiki cites "Official GuideBook" as the source for this. No book with that title exists.

What they're actually referring to is The Resident Evil Archives, which is a book that is filled to bursting with factually incorrect information about the games. Here's the full excerpt of the passage containing that backstory:

Is this really what we're taking as canon fact now? Claire and Sherry being Leon's "single focus" in RE2, with absolutely no mention of Ada at all? Leon being mad about Claire "making her own decisions"?

Here's something else fun from the RE Archives:

I don't see anything on this wiki page about how Leon willingly gave Sherry up to the US Army, nor anything about him reaching out to the federal government himself in order to willingly join their ranks. It's very interesting how only the "drunk at a motel" part made it in.

Citation needed???? The citation is the Resident Evil 2 Remake. This is something that's actually stated in a game — and the wiki is treating it as fanfiction, listing it as secondary to whatever bullshit the RE Archives book is spouting.

This is also the single only glimpse we have ever gotten into anything Leon was doing prior to the intro of RE2. The games do not go any further back in time to explain anything further about where he's from or what his life was like.

This is straight-up not true. It's just an out-and-out lie.

So, Leon and Benford only started working together ten years prior to Benford's death in June of 2013 — making the genesis of that partnership land in 2003. 2002 at the earliest. Neither of those years are 1998, which is the year that Leon was coerced into government custody.

It also makes no sense as to why Leon would like, trust, and respect Benford so much if he was the man responsible for threatening Sherry and ruining his life. It also makes no sense for Benford to be a child-threatening piece of garbage and then also be described as having integrity and being a man of his word.

The only thing that RE6 actually says about who Benford was prior to becoming President was that he was "in the military." 2002 makes sense for Leon and Benford to have met, then, since 2002 was the year of Operation Javier. Leon's status in the government isn't exactly clear during the events of Operation Javier — Leon isn't sent in as a federal LEO; he's sent in with military special forces.

The likeliest explanation is that Adam Benford was the lead commanding officer overseeing Operation Javier — who, upon suspecting he might be dealing with B.O.W.'s, went "Hey, get me the Raccoon City guy. I want him going on this one."

And the rest, as they say, is history.

This is all purely conjecture on my part and cannot be proven or disproven either way — but it, at the very least, makes more sense than just assuming that this one particular file in RE6 got the year of the Raccoon City incident wrong. It also makes more sense than assuming that Leon has some sort of weird Stockholm Syndrome concerning Adam Benford, when he (Leon) is so angry and cynical and jaded in literally every single title after RE4 about his career and about being shackled to the government.

Adam Benford being the guy behind Leon's kidnapping is so beyond the pale and absurd, and the only real basis for it is an advertisement for an airsoft gun, and I'm not joking. I don't know how anyone tries to argue that that ad is more canon than what's both stated and shown in the actual series, but here we are.

This is something that is only true in Resident Evil 4 Remake. Originally, Operation Javier was the first time that Leon and Krauser ever met, per Darkside Chronicles. It is very weird that this detail exists in the wiki, but then the wiki goes on to only describe the DSC version of Operation Javier, with no mention given to the complete overhaul that that story got in RE4make. You wouldn't be able to even asspull a "Krauser only started training Leon after Operation Javier" explanation, either, because in OG RE4, Leon is under the impression that Krauser actually died almost immediately after returning home.

There's no citation for this, but the source is the box art for the Wii version of RE4. However, no other version of RE4 ever makes mention of what school Ashley was going to. The only hint we have ever gotten in a game as to where Ashley was going to school is actually in RE4make, because the sorority stickers on her phone correspond with a sorority out of New York.

There's no citation for this, because the source is RE: Umbrella Corps, which has no provable basis in canon.

This isn't true. Here's the citation that the wiki uses:

There's no year given there, and there's no indication that this happened at some sort of TerraSave reunion. In fact, them meeting in 2010 makes no sense, because this file establishes that there were no open lines of communication between the US government and the BSAA prior to this moment — so how the fuck would Chris have gotten his hands on Leon's report outlining the events of RE4 back in 2009?

Considering the fact that Lost in Nightmares took place in 2006, and that explicitly involved remnants of Umbrella via Oswell Spencer, chances are that that's probably closer to the time that this meeting between Leon and Chris actually happened.

Or, if you wanted to be cheeky about it, you could say that this happened in 2008 so that Hunnigan's "hadn't seen each other in ten years" thing is actually at least a little bit true — since Leon and Chris actually first spoke back in either late 1998 or early 1999, per Code Veronica and Darkside Chronicles.

But there's really no canonical indication of it either way. You can't even use Benford as a benchmark, because Hunnigan could've been reporting to him as POTUS or as a military officer. There's really no way to know.

So, that’s that. I hope we all learned something today. For future reference, don’t look outside of the actual games or movies for information about the series, because it is constantly being contradicted by either other supplementary material or actual game canon. This is the formula you should be following:

numbered game entries are the most canon. numbered game entries will always have the final say. period.

spinoff games starring the recurring cast* (Revelations, Code Veronica, etc) are the second highest tier canon.

CGI movies starring the main cast are the third highest tier canon.

spinoff games not starring the main cast (Outbreak, Dead Aim, etc) are the fourth highest tier canon.

anything else should be ignored.

*spinoff games that have a story, that is. things like The Mercenaries 3D and RE:Verse clearly don’t count and are there for fun gameplay purposes only.

In an instance where things on the same tier contradict each other, the most recent installment wins out.

So, Sherry’s age in RE2 is 10 because RE6 said so – even though OG RE2’s manual had her age listed as 12. Her age of 10 years was then also reaffirmed in RE2make. So, she was 10.

And Gaiden’s not canon, despite it starring Leon and Barry, because RE4, RE6, and Revelations 2 do not acknowledge it as such.

It is very easy to follow this canon if you follow that recipe.

Please don’t let bad faith actors lead you astray, and stop leaning so hard on the wiki until it fixes its problems.

My inbox is always open for questions.

#RE canon reference #leon characterization #RE development history

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baku-bowl · 3 years

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broke 1,000 followers (the fuck? I don't even make content people), so decided to write up a list of some (but not all, I'll make other lists later) of my favorite Bakugou-centric fic recs. my tastes run towards hurt/comfort, as you'll probably figure from the list. if there are some Baku-centric fics that you've enjoyed that aren't on here, please add them - this is definitely not a complete list of the ones I've read and love, but I'm always up for some recs. <3

fair warning, most of these are wips.

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Social Media 101 by WindsChild8178

Part 1: Survival Guide to Fucking Up

[Solely Bakugou’s point of view]

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He’s aggressive in everything he does and does everything with 100% of his heart in it. After the Sport’s Festival, Katsuki starts to get harassed by strangers for his unheroic demeanor. It starts with letters but it doesn’t end there. The moment Katsuki realizes the harassment has entered dangerous territory and he needs to tell someone, it’s already too late.

Part 2: Post Traumatic Life Disorder

[Point of View opens up to Bakugou, teachers and classmates]

When the Dorms are finally built, everyone is settling in well, but things become tense as people begin to realize something isn’t right with the recently rescued Bakugou.

[Cannon compliant right up to after the License Exam]

hands down my favorite fic in the fandom right now. it’s the one that converted me into a Bakugou lover. if you have any fondness for Bakugou as a character then it’s likely you’ve read this one already, but if not, I can’t recommend it enough. incredibly depressing, but with the hope that comfort is coming soon in the next few chapters.

The Kids Will Be Alright, Eventually by NotWithThatAttitude

Bakugou is spiraling in the aftermath of Kamino and his friends are starting to notice. He's stubborn, aggressively independent, and less than willing to dig into his past, but after a breakdown that ends with a painful secret revealed, he starts to get help.

Whether he likes it or not.

Meanwhile, a new kind of villain threatens an uneasy peace following the loss of Allmight. Whispers build as a new narrative slowly takes shape:

Hero society needs to change.

Feat. Therapy, Dadzawa, best boy Kirishima, dysfunctional families, healing, growing up, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

guys.. the medical accuracy of this fic is just... *chef’s kiss*

I rarely see mental health genuinely handled well in fics, but this one goes above and beyond. kudos to the author for doing such excellent research into psychology, and making the application of it in here not-boring. also, while this one does have abusive!Mitsuki, it’s done in a way that feels realistic, and how I usually will see it occur in real life, rather than just for the hurt/comfort feels.

fair warning, the fic can be incredibly triggering (themes of severe depression, PTSD, panic attacks, rape survival, abuse survival, suicidal ideation/attempted suicide, among other things), so be safe and heed the tw’s if you decide to read. legitimately one of my Top Favorite fics in this fandom.

Lock and Key by autochorystalize

Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot.

- - -

A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega.

- - - - - - - - -

Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

remember when I said that I love a/b/o fics that are full of plot and world-building and gender-induced tension? that’s this one. the OC’s are fabulous and you love to hate ‘em. also, it’s the fic that made me fall head-over-heels for the TodoBaku dynamic, so it’s got a special place in my cold, dead heart.

be warned, there are rather explicit non-con scenes between an adult (OC) and a minor (Bakugou) in this one, but the author warns for them in advance, and you could likely skip those parts without missing too much if you need to.

Never and Always, Eventually by Wawa_Boonliang

"Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…that he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies.

However, what he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher. And then it was torn from him."

Katsuki is given a second chance. A chance to save everyone. A chance to change everything.

But should he?

y’all. I’m a slutty, slutty whore for time travel fics. a time travel fic with autistic!coded Bakugou? it was love at first read.

Lessons Learned by Sif (Rosae)

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack.

Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out.

classic Bakugou hurt/comfort. this fic opened me up to the potential that could be a genuinely good Best Jeanist & Katsuki mentor-mentee relationship, and I kind of dig it and search ravenously for it in other fics now. I’m also a huge fan of the behind-the-scences Pro Hero Chat group.

Slope by sunfleurmoon

“I’m not a hero. Or a good person,” Katsuki says, giving Aizawa a pointed look, “So leave me alone. I don’t care about the League or UA, or you—” The two years he’s been away have been fine, more than fine, fucking fantastic actually if you ignore the bi-monthly near-death experiences. He doesn’t need this place. He doesn’t miss this place.

And yet, longing, a childish desire to tear up, or maybe blow something to bits, they all twist in his chest like a band of traitors regardless. “—I just want to go home.”

Or: the one where Katsuki and Izuku fail the first term exam, Aizawa discovers their pasts, and Katsuki is booted from UA. Featuring questionable descriptions of villain organizations, a slightly illegal moving shop, and your favorite emotionally constipated badass in distress with a newly discovered penchant for collecting strays.

paaaaaaiiiiiiiin. the hurt is ALIVE in this one. lots of tortured, angsty exploding child goodness. the OC’s are excellently crafted, and the Bakugou & Eri relationship? beautiful. definitely deserves a read.

Ground Zero by WindsChild8178

In the wake of Kamino, Katsuki is tested more than anyone could imagine. Bound by a villain’s quirk to keep his silence or die, he lives each day knowing it might very well be his last. He continues to work towards becoming a hero, keeping his secret from his classmates and teachers, focusing on making it through each day and trying not to allow the panic or depression to get the best of him. When the villain finally corners him with demands in exchange for his life, there is really only one answer Katsuki Bakugou can give.

honestly don't know which I want updated more - social media 101 or ground zero. this author's fics are amazing, and I really wasn't expecting the twist in this one. can't wait for windschild to come back to this fic some day.

The Defect by LadyGreenFrisbee

"Why do you want to win the Sports Festival so badly?"

Because I want to see if the defect could usurp the masterpiece.

(In which Endeavor holds a terrible secret and Bakugo has to suffer since childhood for it.)

a great concept, and I adore the shouto and Katsuki sibling interaction here. hoping the author will come back to this one some day.

A Name That You'll Remember by Heronfem

Kirishima Eijirou is a Hero. Bakugou Katsuki... is not. Trapped in his toxic workplace and increasingly desperate to get out, Red Riot's days are only brightened by a new villain known as Caution, who's not exactly villainous and keeps accidentally doing good deeds. But when a real villain appears, a threat from the past that demands that Red Riot make the ultimate sacrifice to keep the public safe, Bakugou is forced into saving the day... and eventually, Red Riot himself.

sob story good guy villains are my weakness, this fic is a gem, and I'd kill for the sequel.

Our Hero by AnonymousTwit

He felt everything jerk to the side and throw his balance off before he saw anything, dust clouding his vision and irritating his lungs as the earth itself opened up to swallow them whole. For a single moment, in a millisecond's time, his wild eyes locked with Raccoon Eyes', hers alight with fear and adrenaline-fueled desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it was the first time she'd looked at him with something other than long-deserved hatred in days.

And then he was free falling.

After a particularly nasty encounter between childhood friends, the class learns about Bakugou and Midoriya's dark history and practically ostracizes Bakugou while trying to defend Midoriya. An earthquake during an outing has all sides regretting their decisions.

just fucking tear apart my self-sacrificing faves in every way imaginable while their loved ones watch on in terror. 💖🥰💖 this one is heavy on the Bakusquad and Class-1A feels, and VERY heavy on the Mina & Bakugou relationship (platonic).

Running back the tape, watching it replay by Faralyne

For someone ripped from their time, ripped from the few but strong relationships built by time and personal development, by self-reflection and swallowed pride, ripped from the one thing that made him feel worthwhile and needed and put-together, and forced to forge everything over again—Katsuki thinks he is handling it pretty fucking well.

A villain’s quirk sends a 29-year-old Bakugou back in time to his middle school days.

am I a sucker for time travel? yes. am I a sucker for vigilante!bakugou? also yes. am I a sucker for this fic? literally refreshing the page in wait for an update as we speak.

Liability by sandelf

After All-Might dies rescuing Bakugou from the League, Bakugou is determined to prove it wasn't for nothing.

But the world is against him, his grief is overwhelming, and his stability is splitting at the edges.

very self-indulgent bakugou angst. tw for harassment, severe depression, and suicidality.

Special Mentions:

How To Win The Sport Festival: A Step By Step Guide by mhwright

Short re-imagining of the Sports Festival Arc if Shinso had planned a little better and worked a little harder to win the Sports Festival and if the match-ups had been slightly different. Self-indulgent fic of watching him succeed.

this is completely Shinsou-centric, not Bakugou-centric, but I love and adore it and am dying for a sequel. Shinsou is Best Boy here and you'll be rooting for him the whole time.

#fic rec #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #seriously though if you have a rec for me please always assume i will be unbearably grateful for it #and hit me up with it in the comments or through messaging #thanks for the follows y'all!

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mybunnyparadenme · 3 years

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chaossanthebae replied to your post “Graphic design is NOT my passion and all I have is...”Listen to me listen to me, B1, we have some...

Sorry it took so long! OTZ I hope you like it, I made sure that Kenny’s 100% just a civilian here. Long live Chaos/Kenny supremacy :D

B1 - Professor Chaos/Kenny

Kenny's mind felt so hazy as he slowly made his way into consciousness.

He blinked, not recognizing his surroundings, and felt his eyebrows furrow together when he tried to move and found that his arms were bound behind his back. Seeing as he wasn't naked, he figured this wasn't the fun version of being all tied up, but he couldn't think of any other situation that would leave him in this position. The last thing he remembered was leaving the store after picking up a gallon of milk for breakfast the next morning. There had been... a loud noise, maybe an explosion? Then a flash of light, and then here he was in this high-tech room, feeling like he'd been hit by a bus. But he wasn't alone, he quickly realized as he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. A handsome guy in a ridiculous outfit was walking towards him, his blue eyes seeming to spark with electricity with every step he took.

"Ah, sleeping beauty's finally awake." He said, a grin slowly rising on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. Damn, he had nice biceps. "I didn't zap you too hard, did I?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Kenny asked, feeling his lips twist into a scowl. "And what did you do to my milk?"

"Oh, I put it in the fridge to keep it from spoiling." The guy said, his expression turning sheepish for a moment before his smug mask fell back into place. "And as for who I am, well... you'll know soon enough."

Kenny was ready to tell this guy off for being overly vague (and for abducting him of course), but before he could get the first word out, the large screen on the wall in front of them lit up. An overweight guy about their age took up most of the screen, the top half of his face hidden behind a black raccoon mask.

Great, now he had to deal with furries on top of everything.

"Chaos!" Raccoon Boy bellowed, his voice so gravelly Kenny wondered if he had a cold. "Show yourself!"

"Right on time." Chaos took a few steps into view and grinned up at him. "Why if it isn't The Coon! So nice of you to join us, did you need Call Girl's help to hack into my frequency, or were you able to follow the breadcrumbs this time?"

"Cut the banter Chaos, what have you done to the hostage?"

"He's fine." Chaos said, gesturing to Kenny behind him. "Though for how long, I can't really say. It's amazing how high you can turn up the voltage before the human body starts to lose control."

"You've sunk to a new low, haven't you?" The Coon growled, his eyes darkening as he stared at Chaos. "Electrocuting civilians is barbaric!"

"Oh, like clawing up my minions is any better?" Blue electricity crackled in the air around Chaos, making the hair on Kenny's arms stand on end. "You think you're so heroic, but really you're hardly any better than I am!"

"I am better than you!"

Things were starting to click in Kenny's head, and he tuned out the arguing to really think things through. Electricity, minions, Chaos... oh he remembered now! The guy in front of him was Professor Chaos, the new villain in town who was quickly building an empire of crime in South Park. Kenny felt a bit comforted by this realization, strange as that might be. He could handle being used as a pawn in some superhero political bullshit, no problem. There were worse things to be kidnapped over, like being used for organ harvesting or being part of a serial killer's sick fantasy. This was nothing.

He watched the two of them argue for a minute, frowning when he saw that neither one of them was really getting anywhere with this... negotiation? That was probably what this was supposed to be, but it was looking more and more like a petty squabble between childhood frenemies. He leaned forward in his seat as far as he could and whispered, "Hey, Chaos?"

Chaos jumped, looking like he'd forgotten that Kenny had been in the room at all. "Y-Yes, what is it?"

"If you really want to intimidate him, give him a deadline." Kenny said, nodding at The Coon, who seemed to be in the middle of a long monologue about the difference between good and evil. He also didn't look like he was paying any attention to him, the person he was supposed to be saving. God, the guy must really like the sound of his own voice. "Tell him he's got a day, that should shut him up for a bit."

Chaos gave him the most bewildered look, but composed himself enough to call out, "Coon, I'm tired of this! You have twenty-four hours to meet my demands or the hostage... the hostage dies, you hear?"

The look on The Coon's face was more than worth the indirect death threat. "What the fuck? You don't kill people, Chaos."

"Now end the call," Kenny whispered. "Make him sweat a little."

"Things have changed, hero." Chaos let out an evil laugh and gathered sparks in the palm of his hand. He sent the lightning straight into the screen, causing the whole thing to start short-circuiting. The Coon's angry face lingered for a moment, just long enough for Chaos to grin and give a snappy, "Time's tickin'!" before the screen finally died and went black.

The room was silent for a long moment, save for the crackle of lingering electricity in the air, but it was quickly broken by the sound of Chaos groaning loudly into his hands, all of his bravado disappearing. "Oh god, why'd I have to go and do that for? That's gonna cost a fortune to replace!"

"On the bright side, you looked really cool doing it." Kenny said, grinning when Chaos lifted his head up to look at him. "What? I'm a guy who can appreciate good theatrics."

"Yeah, I guessed that when you didn't freak out after I threatened your life." Chaos said, tilting his head like he was trying to see him in a different light. "Don't you... want to live?"

"Well obviously." Kenny said, shrugging his shoulders. "But this is clearly your first time taking a hostage, so we might as well do it right."

"How do you know this is my first time?" Chaos asked, his cheeks huffing out indignantly.

Kenny lifted a leg in the air, a loose piece of rope dangling from his shoe. "This right here. You secured my hands, but left my feet loose enough for me to wriggle them free. You didn't notice because you were too busy with Raccoon Boy."

Chaos flushed and crossed his arms defensively over his chest. "W-Well it's not like you would've gotten very far! My secret base is rigged with booby traps, you would've been a goner if you left this room."

"Is that right?"

"Of course!" He said, his cheeks turning pink as he puffed his chest out proudly. "I might've let you trick me into ruining my monitor--"

"Hey you did that all on your own!"

He pursed his lips but powered on. "--but that doesn't mean you have any power here. I'm a dangerous man, you know. You're stuck here until I say you can leave."

Kenny considered this, tapping his foot against the floor as he took in the villain in front of him. Chaos had some wickedly strong powers, and even with his legs free he really wouldn't be going anywhere without the use of his hands. The only real option he had was waiting for that tool, The Coon, to come rescue him, and that didn't sound appealing at all. He leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh. "Well since I'm not going anywhere, I should probably introduce myself to my host. Hi, I'm Kenny."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Bu-- um, I mean, I'm Professor Chaos!" He said, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink at his almost slip-up. He cleared his throat and tried to look serious as he continued. "And wherever I go, destruction's sure to follow. So you'd be smart to get on my good side, Kenny."

A shock went through his spine at the sound of his name, and Kenny was sure it had nothing to do with the villain's electrical powers. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, but he could already feel his lips curving up in anticipation. He'd always been a sucker for trouble, and it looked like Chaos was just the right combination of danger and adorable awkwardness that would make all of this worth his while.

No matter how this went down, he had a feeling this was only the first of many encounters between him and Professor Chaos.

#south park #sp bunny #Butters Stotch #kenny mccormick #bunny sp #my fics #south park fic #answered #god i hope the grammar's okay it's so hot today that i'm a little dizzy lol

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angelictaehyun · 4 years

Text

PAIRING: richboy!kang taehyun x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: He’s been a pain in your ass since you began working at the club. He’s arrogant and insanely wealthy, and you’re struggling to simply pay tuition. Needless to say, it’s not quite the match made in heaven… or so it seems.

WC. 11,200+

GENRE: rich kid au, country club au, e2l au, crack, fluff

WARNINGS: mild language, illegal activity, y/n’s an actual dumbass, and taehyun’s kind of a dick lol

You repeatedly tapped your pen against your sticky, worn checkbook, awaiting a response from the refined, old lady sitting comfortably under a patio umbrella. You, on the other hand, felt the scorching heat of the summer sun against your back, making you sweat uncontrollably—you could only hope you didn’t resemble a drenched pig. The woman eyed you, a bit too judgmentally for your liking, before pointing her perfectly manicured nail at the menu in her hand, “I want this pasta, but make it gluten-free. Throw in another iced tea, too… extra lemon, of course!”

You winced at her shrill voice.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, all of our pasta is made from flour,” you explained patiently. Her right eye twitched. You were an obstacle in her way of getting what she desired, she was angry. Lovely. However, above all, she was confused, “Just tell the chef to make it without flour, let him know it’s a special request. I don’t see the issue.”

“Ma’am, I’m telling you… there’s no way to make it without flour, we just don’t have the type of noodle you want in house.”

She drummed her hand on the table, absolutely fuming. She glanced at you like you kicked a puppy, it was absolutely infuriating. She grasped for nothing as her brain formulated any response, “This is outrageous! I want to speak with a manager. Now!”

You sighed, “Gladly.”

It was astounding, truly, the lack of self-awareness and consideration some people had... or, didn’t have. You wished, so badly, to tell them off, but you desperately needed the cash. After all, college wouldn’t pay for itself and the bills piling on your coffee table wouldn’t just magically disappear. You swiftly turned around and trudged away, scanning the vast garden for your manager, Yeonjun, but unsurprisingly, he was nowhere to be found. You’d known him long enough to assume he was hiding in the manager’s office, his poor attempt to flee from the overbearing, entitled crowd. How he scammed his way into a managerial position, a position of authority… that was beyond you.

You were halfway across the floor, pushing past another server when you felt an intense stare land on you. You halted in place, knowing exactly who the gaze belonged to. You glanced at the table stationed in the far corner of the garden, instantly meeting his piercing stare. He eyed you shamelessly, a signature habit of his, before throwing you a smug grin. You weren’t going to kid yourself, he wore the smirk well.

Too bad he was a pompous ass.

Kang Taehyun. You hated saying his name, it humanized him and he was anything but human. Rather, he was an evil, irritating demon spawn simply disguising himself as human. And the cherry on top? He was the absolute bane of your existence.

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint, but you didn’t necessarily want to. He opened his mouth to call you over, but much to your dismay, decided against it and instead rose from his seat to saunter over to you. You tried fleeing the scene the millisecond he stood up, but the elderly lady directly in front of you shuffled quite slowly, blocking your exit and trapping you in place. You tapped your foot impatiently as he approached you.

“You look… sweaty,” he observed, chuckling at your less-than-appealing state. Truth be told, though he didn’t like admitting it to himself, he thought you looked beautiful.

“Taehy—” he forcibly cut you off by landing his slender finger on your lips. You ignored the spark you felt from the small contact. He let his gaze travel to your Cupid’s bow momentarily, a part of him wanting to kiss your frown away.

“Ah, not Taehyun,” he reminded you smoothly. You considered biting his finger off, but you prided yourself on your outstanding professionalism. Granted, it significantly dwindled every time you spoke to him.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled monotonously. “Mr. Kang… if you don’t remove your hand from my mouth, I will shove a menu so far up your ass, you’ll choke,” you snapped, a pretty smile adorning your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Your customer service and approachable personality never fail to amaze me,” he stated, drawing his finger away from you. He continued despite the growing, fiery rage in your eyes, “I’d like another fork, mine’s a bit dirty.”

“That’s your problem. I’m not your waitress, I have my own customers to deal with, so if you don’t mind…”

He completely disregarded your subtle plea for him to leave. “For your information, I’d much rather prefer you as a server and not him,” he admitted, throwing a spare glance at his server—Hyunjin, if you were guessing from the blond hair.

“That’s too bad…” you trailed as you mustered up the fakest sympathetic pout you could. You continued, “Anyways, I really hate to cut this short, but I’d better get going. I’m sure you’ll survive with your fork. You probably won’t get tetanus, but fingers crossed.”

“Yeah, best of luck with Cinderella’s stepmom,” he mumbled, gesturing to your awaiting customer. He flashed you a confident wink before whirling around and returning to his seat. You scoffed, your lips tilting downward into an ugly grimace. The snapping sound from a couple of feet away brought you out of your disgusted daze. The lady you had spoken to was repeatedly snapping her fingers in an attempt to grab your attention. You were met with an expectant gaze when you directed your focus back on her. She was poised, her spine in perfect posture and hands folded properly across her lap; her body language exhibited no sign of emotion until you reached her watchful glare, clearly telling you to hurry along. You inhaled sharply before plastering on a fake smile. You resumed your hunt for Yeonjun, but once again, you felt the weight of a cocky stare land on your back.

He was challenging you, silently. You knew it. Unfortunately for him, you had no interest in playing his silly, childish game, so you clenched your jaw and walked away.

· ──────────────────── ·

As odd as it was, you and your best friend had a favorite bench. It sat a block from the country club and in the middle of a hidden, rugged park, but it was your safe space; it’d been your favorite place since you both found it in fourth grade. After every grueling shift, Kai would meet you on the bench with dinner. The food was almost always inedible, but you weren’t there for his cooking, rather his company. He was already perched on the bench, kicking at a pebble beneath his feet. He heard you approach but kept his focus on the fascinating rock.

“God, took you long enough, I’ve been here forever. I started to think you ditched me for one of those rich boys,” he complained. When you didn’t retort with a snarky comeback like you normally would’ve, he turned from his spot and glanced at your disheveled figure, immediately letting out an obnoxious laugh.

You looked like shit.

Your hair was a disaster, the wisps of hair framing your face no longer considered stylish, but rather unkempt and as Kai liked to put it, “homeless-like.” Not only did you look bad, you felt unclean. The sweat behind your knees was quickly becoming uncomfortably sticky and your mascara was rubbing off, making you look like a rabid raccoon.

Despite all that, you were happy to see Kai, his bubbly personality never failed to cheer you up—but you’d never let him be privy to that.

You shot him the nastiest glare you could muster, but that proved difficult considering the little energy you had left.

“Aw, Y/N…”

“I’m going to quit, I swear to God. If I have to hear one more soccer mom complain about her salmon being too fishy, I’m going to have to start perfecting my mugshot pose,” you grumbled through clenched teeth. He made a noise of disagreement, “Let’s not throw your ass in jail just yet. Orange makes you look like a traffic cone.”

You shot him an indignant glare, “Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Anyways, I made us some hamburgers and managed to grab some extra soda cans before leaving home. So bone app the teeth or whatever.”

You snorted. He always brightened your mood, just a simple sentence could lift your sad spirit. You had to give it to him, the burger looked pretty appetizing… but you’d learned that with his cooking, much like anything else, appearances can be quite deceiving. Despite this, you inhaled your burger, ignoring the fact that the meat was undercooked and the mayonnaise was likely expired. You paid no attention to the fact that your soda was lukewarm and flat—you sipped on it regardless. Your mind was elsewhere, easily drowning out whatever Kai was ranting about.

“... I know you probably had a bad day ‘cause of your boy,” he observed quietly.

You snapped your focus back, “My boy?”

“Yeah, your boy. The one you think is a self-righteous prick, but secretly think is really hot. Hm, what was it… Terry? Tyler? Taeyong?... Oh, I got it. Trash can.”

You scoffed, “Taehyun, most certainly, is not my boy. I can’t stand him. His head is so far up his flat ass, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”

Kai nodded in feigned understanding. He tilted an eyebrow quizzically before opening his mouth, but you beat him to it.

“And I don’t think he’s cute!”

“... And I’m Beyoncé.”

You didn’t respond, too tired to argue with him. Instead, you let out a small noise of disagreement before resting your head on his broad shoulder, contently sipping on your warm soda. He knew how tired you were; everyday he watched you wear yourself down to practically nothing, it hurt him. He leaned his head against your own, placing a hand atop your thigh and squeezing reassuringly. You allowed yourself to relax, breathing in the humid, summer air. You stayed like that until he let out a small laugh.

“Let’s rob him,” Kai suddenly suggested. He was joking, obviously, but you still perked at the idea. You turned to face him expectantly, straw loosely hanging from your mouth. He visibly retracted, “Jeez, Y/N, I was kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“… I’m not robbing someone.” He threw you a cautious glare before aggressively taking a large bite of his burger and chugging his flat soda. You were losing your mind, he was sure of it. You poked curiously, “So I’m assuming your stance on graffitiing is the same.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Obviously.”

You turned away, sulking, and he couldn’t help but snicker. You were his best friend and had been since second grade, but if he said he didn’t think you were a dumbass, he'd be lying.

“Come on, it’s time to get you home, you have an early shift tomorrow,” he reminded suddenly, mouth still full. You smacked his arm, disgusted by his lack of basic manners. He opened his mouth to showcase all his unchewed food.

You gagged.

“You’re disgusting!” you screeched, shuffling away from him. He chased after you, catching you almost immediately. His long legs made it easy. He effortlessly tossed you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirming, and carried you to his car, “Hush, I know you love me.”

“Gross. Never.”

He slapped the back of your calf and you squeaked, “Kai! Put me down! Now!”

“No, not until you say it. Make it believable, too.”

He wasn’t joking, you knew that. Eleven years of friendship and he was still as shameless as the day you met him. More so, if anything. Yes, his eight-year-old self was quite the charmer. You grumbled monotonously, “Kai, what can I say… you’re the light of my life, my hero, my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably die. I love you, I guess.”

“Too sarcastic, but it’ll do,” he conceded. He set you down and held in a laugh. Your hair looked even worse than before. He slung an arm around your shoulder, “Okay, get in the car. Hurry. I’d rather not listen to you complain about your lack of beauty sleep… again.”

· ──────────────────── ·

You mindlessly typed in a complicated order as Yeonjun watched your gaze drift over to the garden.

“You’ve pressed that button so much, the console’s probably broken. Cool it,” he reprimanded gently. Your attention snapped back to the screen which was littered with incorrect orders.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what has me so distracted today,” you mumbled sheepishly. He chuckled and gave you a comforting nudge on the shoulder, “I think I know exactly why.”

Your gaze followed his and instantly landed on Taehyun. As much as you hated to admit, he looked good. Great, even. It looked like he’d just walked out of a rager, especially with his tie undone and shirt untucked, which he pulled off beautifully. His hair was slightly disheveled and you suddenly had the strongest urge to run a hand through it.

Your eyes widened at the sudden thought and you aggressively shoved it to the back of your mind. “I don’t like him!”

“I never said you did.” he argued, suppressing a mirthful grin. Yeonjun reminded you of Kai, especially with his insistence on your attraction to Taehyun, or as you believed, lack thereof. He continued, “Just a reminder, though. The line between love and hate is so, so thin.”

Rather than responding and saying something that would surely get you fired, you huffed and turned your focus back on the order, unaware of your aggressive punching on the console’s screen. You were already having a rough day, but everyday spent at the country club was considered less-than-stellar. Yeonjun gave you a reassuring smile before sulking off to deal with another whiny, overbearing customer. You unconsciously let your gaze travel back over to Taehyun and was instantly met with a genuine smile, just not one directed to you. He laughed at a joke, oblivious to your longing and thank God, if he caught you staring, you’d never hear the end of it. His smile was just so pretty, you couldn’t help but feel giddy. Sure, you hated him—that’s what you told yourself—but you could appreciate a handsome face. As if on cue, Taehyun turned in your general direction and you quickly scrambled out of sight. As you turned, Hyunjin scrambled by you, the heavy tray resting on his shoulder nearly beheading you. His long, wavy blond hair, which was in a nice, neat half-ponytail at the beginning of his shift, was now splaying in every direction—he was beyond stressed. If the messy hair wasn’t enough, his hooded eyes were getting darker. You approached him as he grabbed a checkbook, “Hyun, you look like a mess.”

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I just have a lot of floor to cover, and they’re all extra demanding today,” he explained, short of breath. He groaned as he watched another set of people sit in his section and continued, “God, please cover me. I’ll owe you one. I’m already overwhelmed with my current table number.”

You laughed understandingly, “Of course.”

“You’re the best, it’s table thirty.” He squinted to get a good look, “Oh! I know that customer, he’s a great tipper. You should be just fine.”

You shifted your attention to the table in question, immediately deflating as you saw Taehyun sitting with a friend. You turned around to protest, but Hyunjin was already gone.

You internally screamed before trudging over to his table, gathering all of your dignity... kissing his arrogant ass wasn’t necessarily on your agenda for today. When Taehyun saw you approach his table, he did little to hide his pleased smirk. You undid your balled fist.

“Hi. My name is Y/N, I’ll be your server today,” you monotonously stated, an unenthusiastic but convincing smile plastering your face. To any other guest, it would’ve been believable, but Taehyun knew better; your server persona didn’t fool him.

“Y/N. What a pretty name,” his friend observed, a bit too flirtatiously for your liking. Taehyun noticed too, judging from the way he narrowed his eyes and tongued his cheek. And also the way he obviously kicked his friend’s leg under the table. You mustered a sweet smile, hoping to mask your disgust, “Thank you! That’s so… nice. Anyway, what would you like to drink? We got in a new Italian wine, just delivered today.”

“That’s alright, just water.”

“Water.”

Cheap. Especially for a pair of chaebol children.

“Alright! I’ll be back momentarily,” you informed, smile dropping the instant you turned away. As you trailed back to the kitchen, you heard Taehyun give his friend a hushed reprimanding making you smirk. You passed Yeonjun, noticing he looked as if he was about to lose his sanity. You gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder—for someone so young, he managed well. Of course, he used his handsome face and charm as often as possible; his attractiveness and charisma was dangerous. He managed to grasp the attention of everyone and it aided him greatly. You pressed quizzically, “Jun, you don’t seem good.”

“Says you. You’re lover boy’s server. What a shocking, juicy turn of events. I’m on my toes,” he teased impishly. You stared at him vacantly. Yeonjun continued to poke fun, enjoying the lack of response you gave as you procrastinated to avoid returning to Taehyun’s table, but sadly, there was only so long it could take to fill a glass with water. Yeonjun pouted sympathetically, “Good luck.”

You didn’t need luck. No. To spend a precious hour or more, waiting on a privileged, disgustingly wealthy teenage boy, specifically Kang Taehyun, you needed patience, self-control, and temper management. You reminded yourself of just that as you approached him, placing his water near his plate, “Gentlemen, are you ready to order?”

You jotted down his friend’s order, ignoring the growing complexity as he piled on request after request, no sign of stopping. “... And I need it lukewarm. Not room temperature, but lukewarm.”

You diligently suppressed the eye roll that nearly bubbled up. Honestly, you’d dealt with far worse, Taehyun’s friend didn’t even scratch the surface.

You had to wonder though, did people like this ever feel shame?

You faced the cocky redhead, “And for you… Mr. Kang?”

You cringed. He didn’t miss the nearly imperceptible flash of disgust that crossed your expression. He grinned, “Just the lasagna. While you’re at it, I’d like another glass of water.”

“You already have a full glass,” you seethed, glancing at the glass you had just set down. He enjoyed this: testing you, pushing you, slowly dwindling your sanity until you snapped. He wanted to get a reaction from you, anything other than the bored, disinterested expression you gave him every single day. He smiled innocently, “What can I say… I like staying hydrated.”

His amusement was irritating. Unsurprisingly, his torment was based on the stupid, outdated notion that a boy has to show interest by picking on his crush, but you weren’t privy to his inner thought process. You suppressed another eye roll as you turned to grab a pitcher from Hyunjin, the boy sprinting behind you with a full tray. You felt bad for him, at least, until you remembered he pawned Taehyun’s table onto you and your pity became short lived. You filled an empty glass, increasingly aware of Taehyun’s piercing stare. Your emotionless expression would’ve given him no indication as to how nervous you felt if it weren’t for the slight blush that painted your face.

He smirked victoriously. You hated it.

A breath of relief escaped you as his attention turned to his friend. He leaned back in his seat and lifted a hand to rest behind his head, accidentally smacking the pitcher, causing you to spill the cold water onto his lap. He flinched at the sudden icy contact.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you gasped, fishing a stray napkin from your apron. Normally, he would’ve brushed it off, considering it was his fault, but he felt pressured under the expectant gaze of his snobbish peer. Plus, he gained the reaction he wanted from you... something other than disgust. He feigned offense as he dramatically pushed his seat back and stood up, easily towering over you, “Next time, try not sucking at your job!”

He immediately regretted his outburst but he showed no sign of remorse, not when he had a reputation to uphold. God forbid, he could actually be a considerate person.

More importantly, though, he pushed too far this time and there wasn’t much turning back. You winced at his tone, withering back from his harsh statement, though you quickly replaced your hurt with unadulterated rage. Your blood boiled as your vision went red, steam practically fuming from your ears. Your pained expression broke his heart and he nearly dropped his act, but before he could do or process anything, his silk shirt was sticking uncomfortably to his body as ice water seeped through. His slacks were drenched and his designer loafers were completely ruined. He didn’t pay much attention to that, though... not when you were an inch from his face, holding an empty water pitcher over his head.

“I quit,” you lowly hissed. You firmly shoved the pitcher into his hand and scoffed as he stumbled back from the force. All eyes were on you as you stalked off, hastily tossing your apron into the nearest trash can. Yeonjun gave you a quick nod, his subtle way of telling you he was proud.

He’d get your resignation letter another day.

Taehyun helplessly called after you but it was useless. You were too far gone to care.

· ──────────────────── ·

You slammed your car door shut, absolutely fuming. You blankly stared at the frog keychain hanging from your rearview mirror. Normally, you would’ve smiled at the small figurine, but in the moment, you wanted to punt it into another timezone. It’s cheeriness pissed you off to no end. You quickly fished your phone out to dial Kai’s number, the line ringing thrice before he picked up, groaning, “I’m trying to sleep.”

His voice seemed muffled, likely from the thirty plushies he insisted on sleeping with.

“It’s dinner time.”

“It’s called a nap, genius.”

“Alright, well, I just quit my job… and I might have dumped a pitcher of water onto Taehyun’s stupid, privileged ass.”

The line fell silent. You wouldn’t have been surprised had he hung up on you—your tendency to act impulsively drove him up the wall and he was nearing his limit. You patiently awaited his response, likely a reprimanding scold.

“Y/N, what the fuck.”

“He had it coming, I swear,” you promised. In detail, you explained your biased side of the story, ignoring the obvious judgement emanating from the opposite line. The minute you finished, you spotted Taehyun’s panicked figure run into the full parking lot, frantically searching for you; you ducked behind your steering wheel, praying he didn’t see you. You squeaked, cutting off Kai’s tangent, “Oh my God! Oh my God! He followed me!”

He sighed. “If you dumped ice water on me, I’d be chasing after you too.”

You peeked curiously from your spot, seeing he had yet to find you. The cogs in your mind churned slowly, mixing in with your rage, “What if we graffitied his house?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m serious, I want to do it! He can’t just get away with humiliating me in front of the entire club, waitstaff, and my manager. And graffitiing isn’t illegal… ish.”

You could practically picture his narrowed gaze, “It’s definitely, most certainly, illegal. Sunshine, I understand your anger, hell, I’d be outraged, but revenge isn’t always the answer. And graffiti isn’t the most… sound idea.”

You crossed your arms defensively, “It’s a genius idea.”

“It really isn’t.”

“I’m going to do it, regardless of if it’s a good idea or not. You’re either in or out.”

Once more, the line fell quiet. His mind churned, concluding there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d follow through—you were simply too chicken. He laughed, “Fine. I’m in.”

“Great! Find his address, I’ll be over soon.”

You hung up and regained your composure. Taehyun spotted your car as you buckled in your seatbelt, making direct eye contact with your enraged figure. You were surprised, he didn’t seem angry, rather regretful. Almost apologetic.

But you didn’t care.

You sped off the lot without sparing him a final glance.

· ──────────────────── ·

“Have faith in me! Finding his address isn’t going to be hard. You know, I’m a tech whiz, it runs in the family.”

You snickered, “Beomgyu getting accepted into the computer science program at his university doesn’t mean you got the tech gene. You’re the worst with technology, you can’t even remember your laptop login half the time.”

He eyed you challengingly, before cracking his knuckles and typing furiously. Only a single minute had passed before he was yelling, “Jackpot! I found it!”

You were thrown for a loop. He was quite technologically inept, he couldn’t even open a browser without some trouble, let alone find an address. You stared at him quizzically, a smidge of doubt crossing your mind. He deflated, avoiding your hard gaze, “Okay… maybe, just maybe, I called Gyu before you arrived and had him help.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that tracks.”

You sighed and tossed yourself back on his plush bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered on his ceiling. You laughed quietly, you remembered putting them up there—it was really only a year ago. See, Kai had this whole star-sticker-related schtick or as he liked to put it, “Inability to have them as a child which subsequently caused emotional damage.”

You had just returned from a grueling shift and you were exhausted, weak, and insanely pissed—reason being Taehyun, of course.

It was always Taehyun.

In a frivolous attempt to cheer you up, Kai suggested pasting the stickers onto his ceiling. Honestly, it was more stressful than fun. He constantly wobbled around the bed, nearly dropping you several times as you sat perched on his broad shoulders and stuck them up. It kept you busy though, and thus, kept your mind off of Taehyun.

It was funny, honestly. For someone that swore they hated him, you sure thought about him a lot. He took residence in your mind and you felt like the landlord trying to evict him.

Even at that moment, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Of course, you were in denial. You told yourself it was natural to be thinking about him; after all, you were going to destroy his property. There was absolutely no other reason as to why he ran free in your mind… none at all.

Kai knew you were overthinking. It wasn’t hard to tell, especially since your forehead usually tended to crease in the ugliest manner when you did. He tried reeling you out of your daze, “So, we’re going to commit a crime.”

“Yep.”

“... There’s no turning back.”

“I know. I’m not going to chicken out.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, of course you’d chicken out. You always did. He didn’t see any harm in indulging you with your idiotic plan, so he found the address. No harm, no foul. Right?

· ──────────────────── ·

You anxiously picked at the leather seating beneath you, nearly tearing a hole in the worn fabric.

“Yo, cool it. Jihyo is already pretty fucked up,” Kai warned. Oh, Jihyo. You still couldn’t believe he named his old, rickety car—let alone after his ex. His car looked as if it had a mile left in it before it ultimately broke down, but you had to put some blind trust in Jihyo. After all, she was your getaway car if everything went south. You’d been sitting in Kai’s passenger seat for half an hour, coming up with nearly every excuse not to proceed with the crime.

“We really don’t have to do this. Not to mention, I don’t want to do this,” he grumbled.

“Then why are you here?”

Imagine his surprise when you showed up at his door, decked out in all-black, stealthy gear, hope and adrenaline coursing through your body. He truly believed you would’ve backed down by now, and a small part of him hoped you still would, but the odds weren’t looking in his favor.

“I’m not letting you go to jail! I can’t get through the school year without you, especially now that Jihyo—human Jihyo—is starting to spread her stupid, little personal agenda against me. Like, yeah, I broke up with you and that’s rough, but maybe next time, try not being manipulative… or a cheater,” he rambled. You flashed him a sympathetic smile; he said he was over it but you knew better. You patted his arm comfortingly and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, a flustered, shy smile replacing his pout.

“Guess what? I think I know exactly what’ll make you feel better,” you whispered sweetly.

His smile instantly turned down into an exasperated frown, “Mhm, let me guess… robbing the rich boy you have a crush on.”

“I don’t have a crush on him! Why would I like him? He yelled at me in front of the entire club! And we’re not robbing him, we’re simply… graffitiing his house. Tastefully.

“So you admit, you had a crush on him.”

“No! I’m just saying!”

He pointedly rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the castle-like house across the street, not wanting to have that conversation with you. He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like idiot but you let it slide, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand.

“Okay, so the gate code is probably something stupid like his birthday, his mom is probably sentimental like that,” you mumbled to yourself. You tapped your foot anxiously as you tried to formulate a coherent plan. You slowly continued, “The only problem is the crazy amount of security cameras around his house. Like, who needs that many cameras? People are dying.”

“God, I hate you,” Kai grumbled.

You ignored him, “There has to be a blind spot, somewhere a camera won’t cover. Hm…” you studied the perimeter, searching for that camera-free sweet spot. At that moment, you found a tiny patch of grass, hidden under a massive oak tree.

Bingo.

You shook Kai’s arm aggressively, “Look! Right there, that’s the spot. That tree has to cover the camera.”

He rested his head against the steering wheel, “Let’s get this over with.”

As you both climbed out of his car, you couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. The street was littered with fancy, expensive cars while Jihyo looked like she belonged in the dump, making you even angrier. Kai crept over to the sidewalk, insisting on creeping in the shadows like a vigilante. You, on the other hand, struggled to carry your duffel bag full of equipment, constantly getting slowed down by the exceptional weight. That was your fault though, you packed it full of necessary, outstandingly heavy equipment (necessary being a loose term). Alongside the many cans of paint sat a bag of Goldfish, three juice boxes (because Kai is a massive baby), a faulty navigation system, a not-at-all threatening ski mask, and a broken hammer.

You didn’t remember packing that hammer.

You settled in front of Taehyun’s gate, hoping your birthday theory was correct. Of course, simply because it was you and your luck was awful, it wasn’t. You began pressing random keys, hoping something would work but it was fruitless. Nothing worked, not even the basic combinations. You huffed, “I guess we’re going to have to climb our way in.”

You mentally prepared yourself as Kai sent a couple of prayers out for good measure. He eyed your duffel bag curiously before opening it, instantly met with a multitude of spray paint in all shades. He narrowed his eyes and scoffed, “Jesus, Y/N! Where the hell did you get all this shit?”

“... Craigslist.”

“Bullshit, you were kicked off Craigslist years ago.”

You winced, insulted by his easy remark—he knew how sensitive you were about that. You kicked a pebble sheepishly, mumbling softly, “Fine, I bought the paint from Soobin…”

His eyes widened comically as his heart practically ripped out of his chest, “Soobin?! Choi Soobin?! You can’t be serious. No, there’s no way you bought from the school drug dealer! He’s a criminal! He probably tried to toss in some of that devil’s lettuce with your purchase, huh? Or worse… crack!”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your head back, he was always so dramatic. “Kai, he’s not a criminal. He’ll occasionally sell an edible or two, but that’s it! He didn’t try to sell me anything. Actually, he gave me a pretty good deal on this stuff.”

“Lovely, a modern-day businessman,” he grumbled sarcastically.

“Whatever, just help me climb the wall,” you huffed, zipping up your bag before tossing it over the blockade. Hesitantly, he got on one knee, muttering something you couldn’t quite hear—not that you wanted to anyways. You delicately stood on his knee as he pushed on your thighs in an attempt to boost you over.

Honestly, you struggled. Your weak muscles did little to aid in your quest, but Kai’s strength helped.

“God, take your sweet time, it’s not like your flat, piece of plywood ass is dangling in front of my face or anything. I’m about to throw up,” he gagged.

You scoffed, “Yeah, yeah, complain all you want but this is the most action you’ll ever see.”

“... I won’t hesitate to drop you on your face.”

However, before he could follow on his threat, you managed to hoist yourself over the brick wall. You offered a hand to Kai but instead of accepting, he eyed it mockingly, knowing you weren’t strong enough to lift him. He stretched his legs before taking a step back, giving him a running start, and surprising you both when he successfully lifted himself.

You placed your hand over his mouth, “Shh.. whisper. We’re in enemy territory now.”

He licked your palm, nearly making you screech, “Gross!”

He childishly stuck his tongue out. You shook your head and began scrounging the duffel bag for the perfect paint color. Of course, you wanted to create a masterpiece worthy of Kang Taehyun... you even considered tagging it. Kai silently sat on the grass, aimlessly picking at the freshly-cut blades as he watched you happily paint.

You were pleased to say that in the half an hour you’d been painting, nothing had gone awry... yet.

“The fuck is that supposed to be?” he questioned curiously, leaning closer to inspect the vulgar work.

“Taehyun,” you said easily.

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like a dick.”

“It’s called symbolism, Kai.” You stepped back to admire your work as if it were hung in the Louvre whilst Kai scrunched his nose, clearly offended by the unpleasant art.

“You know, it’s funny how you have the biggest crush on this dic—” Before he could further elaborate, he was interrupted by an awfully familiar voice.

“What the hell are you doing on my front lawn?”

You cringed. You’d been caught red-handed.

Kai turned slowly, surrendering with his hands up. You, however, kept your back turned, considering just going to hell with it and continuing your tasteful artwork. He glanced at you anxiously, silently pleading for you to put down the paint can.

Only because Kai looked a second away from fainting, you huffed and turned around, mimicking his pose, the only difference being the bored expression plastered on your face.

Taehyun stood in front of you, his arms crossed and irritation painted all over his body language, but as much as he tried to hide it, there was a glint of amusement behind his eyes. You hated how his obnoxious, stop sign hair managed to look amazing under the glow of the moonlight—it was beyond irritating. Arguably, his entire being was irritating. You held his gaze, silently challenging his presence. Kai, on the other hand, was sweating profusely and dramatically hyperventilating. He clutched onto your shoulder, failing to catch an actual breath, “Oh my God! I feel like my heart is pumping out lukewarm sewer water.”

He placed his hands on his knees as he hunched over and continued, “Please, Taehyun. Please, don’t hit me with your Lamborghini. I’m begging you.”

Taehyung blankly stared at the younger, completely forgetting he was even there. You rubbed your temple and hissed, “Will you shut the fuck up? You’re making this worse.”

“I don’t want to go to jail! My face is too pretty for jail, they’d murder me on sight for being the most gorgeous boy they’ve ever seen. God, please don’t call the cops… I’ll do anything,” Kai shamelessly begged. You were so close to punting him into the Pacific Ocean. Taehyun’s annoyingly gorgeous lips twisted into a smug grin as he directed his attention back on you, “Hm, and what about you, Princess? I don’t see you begging.”

You scoffed, “I’d rather eat Kai’s shoe.”

He simply hummed, “That’s too bad. You know, I have a family friend who’s a cop… I’ll convince him to go easy on you in jail.”

“The wealthy wielding control over the justice system… how unexpected.”

“Oh my God! Y/N’s kidding, she’ll do anything,” Kai blurted quickly, shooting you a death glare. Taehyun’s eyebrow lifted curiously, a satisfied smirk settling comfortably, “Is that true?”

“What the hell do you want?” you questioned hesitantly.

“A date.”

You briefly considered his words before shoving Kai forward, “Yeah, go nuts. He’s all yours.”

“... With you.”

You threw your head back and let out an inappropriate, hearty laugh. Even Kai let out a small snicker before replacing it with a fake cough, but Taehyun didn’t seem amused. He watched you expectantly, awaiting an answer.

“So this is the only way Kang Taehyun can score a date… by blackmailing them. You know, that actually makes sense,” you theorized to no one in particular. You simmered in silence for a short moment before Kai cleared his throat, hinting at his obvious discomfort. Taehyun was enjoying this, you just knew it.

That broken hammer never looked better...

“Fine,” you conceded. You glared at him, biting your tongue to prevent you from going off on his pompous ass. Taehyun’s eyes lit up with hope.

Kai let out a breath of relief before mumbling an apology and dragging you off the lawn. His grip on you tightened as you turned around one last time to shoot daggers at Taehyun. He stood comfortably in the middle of his manicured lawn, the porch lights behind him highlighting his pleased smirk, yet all you saw was red.

· ──────────────────── ·

Kai splayed across your bed, mindlessly picking at a random throw pillow while you spritzed a hint of perfume on your forearm. His gaze trailed over your figure curiously, “You’re quite dressed up for someone who’d rather sleep in a dumpster than go on this date.”

“Well I’m not about to walk into high society wearing a stained sweatshirt and joggers.”

He snorted, “Right, that’s the only reason.” You smoothed your shirt and gave yourself a once over, feeling quite confident in your choice of clothing. Kai wasn’t blind, he thought you looked nice, but he’d let pigs fly before he told you that. He continued, “You don’t look… that ugly.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that was the closest you’d ever get to a compliment from him, “Thanks.”

“Do you know where he’s taking you?”

“Nope.”

If you were being honest, you didn’t care where he took you; you didn’t set any conscious expectations.

“Oh! Before I forget…” Kai smirked as he dug around his backpack. He tossed you a small, blue bottle of mouthwash. He winked cheekily, “You never know… mayhaps you’ll kiss him.”

You nearly threw up, “I most certainly will not be kissing anyone tonight, especially not his pretentious ass. Besides, you know about my rule.”

He groaned. He definitely knew about your rule, it was all you talked about after getting dumped by your last ex. After your last failed relationship (or four) you created a no-kiss policy for your first three dates. You wanted to make sure your kisses weren’t in vain, and honestly, it was fun just watching them work for it.

“The rule is dumb,” he reminded.

“... You’re dumb.”

You were busy dodging a pillow when your doorbell rang, signaling Taehyun’s arrival. You were shocked he didn’t just notify his presence by honking his horn—for a pompous ass such as himself, you wouldn’t have been surprised.

“It’s time,” you mumbled somberly.

“He isn’t the Grim Reaper. This is a date, it’s supposed to be a happy thing!” he tried encouraging sweetly as you stalked down the staircase, but to no avail, your mood didn’t lighten in the slightest.

You aggressively swung open your front door, nearly knocking Kai unconscious. Taehyun dressed simple but pleasant; his expensive, black sweater was expertly tucked into a nice set of slacks and the Cartier bracelet that adorned his wrist, perfectly accentuated his veins. His bright, red hair was styled messily and his cheeks were flushed, beautifully highlighting his angled nose and sharp jawline. Your mouth gaped, just slightly, as you drank him in—while he was always attractive, this specific look had you stunned. He held a single rose against his chest and it only made him look more ethereal, if that was even possible. When you looked up, you instantly noted the hint of panic in his eyes, which made you feel at ease.

“Taehyun,” you blankly addressed.

“Y/N! You look amazing, so beautiful…” he trailed as he handed you the rose. You grabbed it and immediately shoved it into Kai’s chest.

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumbled, pushing past him and harshly hitting his shoulder.

“... Right.”

“Hey, try not to murder him, I can’t afford bail. I make minimum wage,” Kai reminded, flashing Taehyun a sympathetic smile as the older trailed closely behind you. You were about to open his car door when he came rushing by, insisting on opening it for you. In return, you sent him a nasty glare, “I’m capable of opening my own door.”

“I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

“A gentleman doesn’t go off on someone in the middle of a public space,” you reminded.”

He sighed. A mere five minutes into the date and he already felt defeated. He wished he could form a proper apology, but it would be futile—you’d just shut him down. So he decided to express his apology in the form of something he knew you’d accept; needless to say, he had a trick or two up his Gucci sleeve.

You kept your gaze focused on anything but him. Your arms were folded across your chest, the evident frown on your face doing very little to hide your irritation. Despite that, he still thought you looked beautiful… granted, every single time he spoke to you, you wore a frown so this wasn’t new to him.

“You look so pretty,” he complimented as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“I know.”

Of course he deserved every ounce of your cold, unwelcoming demeanor, but it still hurt. He was flushed but you didn’t notice since you made an obvious effort to scoot as far away from him as possible, practically pressing yourself up against the car door. However, the painful silence quickly overwhelmed you, so you hesitantly threw him a bone, “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise but I know you’ll like it. It’s my way of apologizing.”

“This better be a hell of an apology.”

“I promise you it is.”

You noticed his sincerity. His usual cockiness was replaced with shyness and a twinge of guilt, and you found it endearing. You stayed quiet for the remainder of the car ride, only a small sound of confusion as he pulled into a half-empty parking lot of a local carnival. A young employee approached the car and gave Taehyun a permitting nod, making you suspicious. He drove past the entrance gate and straight into a private space, parking next to a dinky, old ice cream truck. The space was close to a nearby forest, a bit too secluded for your taste.

“So you’re going to kill me,” you observed, scanning the dark environment around you.

He rolled his eyes. “No.”

“That’s what a murderer would say,” you mumbled.

You were so stubborn, he knew that, yet he still let out an exasperated sigh. He frowned and climbed out of his car, shuffling to your side, only to find you were already halfway out. You didn’t say anything, choosing to send another hard glare his way instead.

He headed in the direction of the carnival—not the forest—and gestured you to follow him. You trailed behind, ignoring the damp mud that stuck to the bottom of your cheap shoes. You felt a bit overdressed, but when you glanced at Taehyun, you felt better. However, the more you thought about it, his outfit likely cost more than your college tuition, putting a slight dent in your ego. You focused your attention on the glowing moon instead of him, and when he turned to look at you, he was in awe. You seemed peaceful, or at least, not as pissed.

It was nice.

He led you down to the middle of the fair where you saw a crowd gathered around a massive dunk tank. He seemed antsy, constantly shifting his weight and picked at the hem of his costly shirt. He momentarily abandoned your side and walked to the dunk tank operator, speaking briefly before grabbing a bucket filled of unknown stuff.

When he walked back, you stared curiously at the bucket which was full of heavy baseballs. “This is my apology.”

Vague.

As if he read your mind, he gently placed his hand on your shoulder and turned you to face the tank, pointing directly at the chair above the pool. “I’m going to be sitting on that chair. Your job is to throw them,” he gestured over to the bullseye, “at the target, until I’m submerged.”

You couldn’t suppress your smile. He was right, this was an apology you’d accept, an apology in the form of embarrassment. Smart boy.

He didn’t necessarily look forward to ruining his cashmere sweater, but he would’ve done anything to make it up to you, and your bright smile told him he was on the right path. You let out a light laugh, picking up a baseball and tossing it carelessly.

He spared you a final glance before shuffling off to his fate. He seemed to garner a lot of attention, the crowd had grown significantly larger since you first arrived. You held the ball in your hand as he climbed onto the chair—you were arguably a little too excited to send him into the cold, cold water. He seemed shaky, but you didn’t care. You threw the ball with no hesitation.

Strike one. You missed by a long shot.

He suppressed a laugh. You shook your body, ridding yourself of any anxiousness before trying once more.

Strike two. You were closer. Barely.

You had an unlimited amount of attempts, but the longer you failed, the more embarrassed you felt. He now seemed comfortable... prideful, even. Your face was flushed red from humiliation, but you tried to keep it from affecting you as you threw once more, this time, significantly more aggressive.

Strike three. This was outright shameful.

“C’mon, you can do better than that…” he baited. He couldn’t help but tease, it didn’t matter that you were on a date. The crowd let out a collective laugh. You scoffed indignantly, cracking your neck and back, your stare darkening. You were about to hit the winning shot, he knew it. He loosened his grip on the chair and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

The longing, heartfelt expression in his eyes had you flustered. You nodded understandingly, reeling in his genuine apology, and flashing him a sympathetic, sincere smile before throwing the baseball straight at the bullseye, sending him (and his expensive outfit) straight into the tank.

You pumped a fist in the air as the crowd cheered. He emerged from the stale water, completely drenched. He shook hair away from his eyes before climbing from the tank and into a changing room, but not before finding your figure in the crowd. You wore a gentle, soft smile; for the first time, you looked at him with something other than hatred.

It gave him hope.

After changing, he appeared by your side as the crowd slowly dispersed, dressed a lot more comfortably. He changed into a pair of fitted (and designer, you just knew it) joggers and a clean, simple sweatshirt, pulled together with a silver chain hanging from his neck. He went from runway to streetwear yet he managed to look absolutely fantastic and it irked you. He seemed expectant yet nervous, constantly shifting his feet and biting his bottom lip. He needed reassurance and suddenly, you weren’t hesitant to provide it.

After a minute of painful silence, you conceded. “I forgive you.”

A deep sigh of relief escaped him. He’d practically been holding his breath since that day and all of a sudden, this weight had been lifted off his chest. A wave of solace washed over him, “Thank god. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if that didn’t work.”

You giggled softly. He short-circuited for a mere second; being the cause of your melodious laugh had him speechless. It was all new to him. Your laugh was so sweet, soft, and a drastic contrast from the person he was used to. He yearned to hear it again.

You peered up at him without saying a word.

He coughed awkwardly. “Right, uh, that didn’t take long at all. Let’s get you home, this was a waste of your time, I’m so sorry,” he rambled, turning in the direction of his car. You tilted your head questioningly. The night was still young and you had no interest in going back home. You were pleasantly surprised, all it took was a simple apology for your hidden, buried feelings to surface, though you knew how hard it was for him to apologize. Maybe that’s why you were so easy to forgive. You reached for his sleeve and gently tugged him back, “You asked me out on a date, so let’s do it.”

Going on an actual date was the last thing he expected. His plan for the night was to pick you up, try his best not to offend you more than he already had, and get dunked into some dirty, stale water. Of course he couldn’t refuse, seeing as his heart nearly soared from his chest. He nodded eagerly, “Y-yeah! Yeah! Okay, let’s have a date. Okay, uh, this is a carnival, right? I have to win you a plushie then, that’s just basic, carnival date knowledge. That’s the rule.”

You snorted. “Can’t break the rules then.”

He led you on over to the strength machine, eager to showcase his brawn—he hoped to impress you. His boyish mentality made you laugh, as endearing as it was, you couldn’t help but find it primitive and a bit childish. Nonetheless, you indulged him. He fished change from his wallet and you couldn’t help but notice the shiny, heavy, black card sitting comfortable in his wallet’s compartment; you suppressed an instinctual eye roll. He held the massive hammer in hand, attempting to hide the fact that it slightly weighed him down, despite his muscular build. He flashed you a confident wink before raining the hammer down on the target, sending the marker less than halfway up the pole. You coughed in an attempt to hide your laughter, you didn’t want to embarrass him, he’d already been dunked into a tank of mucky water.

He stood dumbfounded, “Okay, this is rigged.”

“Mhm, right.”

“Fine, hotshot. Give it a whirl then,” he challenged. You raised an eyebrow cockily, yanking the hammer from his hand. It was simple, all you had to do was send the marker higher than his. You smugly grinned before trying your luck, the marker barely rising an inch.

He slapped his knee and cackled. You were offended.

“This is rigged,” you mumbled.

“S’ok, love. There’s plenty of other stuff to do that isn’t rigged,” he encouraged, throwing a side eye at the gamer operator who simply shrugged in return. He slung an arm around your shoulder, choosing not to dwell on the way his heartbeat sped, “Let’s go get you a prize.”

· ──────────────────── ·

For him to win you a singular prize, it took a game of whack-a-mole, a shared slice of pizza, a tuft of cotton candy, a vigorous pep talk, and sprinkle of beginner’s luck. It was a cheap, funky-looking ring, but you wore it with the utmost pride.

You both talked excessively, really getting to know each other, and with each new detail, he fell harder. Your shy smile, adorable laugh, witty sense of humor… they were all just a bonus. Normally, you weren’t one to fall, if at all, but you found yourself going against your instinct and doing just that. In hindsight, though, it’d been a long time coming. He was hesitant to initiate any sort of skinship, considering you’d forgiven him an hour prior, but you proved opposite after you mindlessly reached for his hand the second you spotted your favorite ride.

“The spinning teacup! That’s a must!” You both felt the spark from the contact, it was unmistakable, but you both chose not to say anything. He let you drag him over, despite his aversion to the particular ride; he just couldn’t say no.

“Fine, but promise me you won’t spin fast.”

“Pinky promise.”

As the cup turned, albeit at snail pace, he admired the light wind that flowed delicately through your hair. You had a certain aura, he couldn’t help but notice. It was enchanting. The moonlight kissed your skin beautifully, it had him watching in infatuated awe.

“You’re staring.”

“Pssh, I’m not staring.” You eyed him and he crinkled his nose, “Fine, I was staring. I can’t help it, you’re beautiful.”

He didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from, perhaps it was just the motion sickness, but he didn’t regret it. You turned away from him, clearly flustered, and it made him smile. The ride ended quicker than he expected, but it was a welcomed relief, considering his well-being. The second he stepped from the cup, he fell to the floor.

“I barely spun the cup! It turned, like, a mile an hour!”

“I’m sensitive! I get sick easily.” He lifted himself off the ground, just slightly, continuing with a corny joke. “Look at me on the floor, I guess some might say… I fell for you.”

You snorted, not at the cheesy line, but the aggressive finger-gun that accompanied it. He tried to wink but failed, immediately hunching over from the queasy feeling in his stomach, “Oh my God, I’m going to die.”

He made an ugly, inhuman noise.

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m great. I just think it’s my time to go.”

He reminded you a lot of Kai—both of them had an affinity for being overly dramatic.

You rubbed his back soothingly. He felt so embarrassed, but the feeling was overshadowed by the sickly feeling. You continued caressing, making sure to glare at anyone that dared judge him. You crouched down until you were eye level and brushed his hair from his forehead, giving him a small smile. At that moment, he could’ve sworn you were an angel of some sort. He felt better instantly.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, waving his hand carelessly, telling you not to worry.

“Let’s just head home. I’ll have Kai pick us up, he’ll definitely do it.” You paused, crinkling your forehead in thought, “Scratch that, he just got his license and ran over a cone yesterday.”

He stood up slowly, waving his hand once more. “In the recipe for a perfect carnival date, the ferris wheel is a must.”

You didn’t like where he was going with that.

“You’re going to hurl if we go on that. For real, this time.”

He rested his hand atop his heart. “I won’t! I swear.”

“I don’t know...”

He laced his hand with your own and pulled you to the carnival’s main attraction. He fiddled with the ring on your finger, proudly glancing at it every once in a while.

Just your luck, a slightly younger couple was paired with you on the ferris wheel. The ride operator shoved the four of you into the cramped, tiny compartment, ignoring the silent plea Taehyun sent her way. The other couple sat hesitantly with a noticeable distance between them, awkwardly shifting every now and then. The young men—one blond, one with raven black hair—stayed quiet and you couldn’t help but think they were also on their first date. They often glanced at each other but didn’t talk and Taehyun had to hide his amusement. All four of you simmered in uncomfortable silence for a good portion of the ride.

Taehyun unconsciously threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close as you laid your head on his shoulder. It was a subtle display of affection that made you blush, but he didn’t notice. Out of the corner of his eyes, Taehyun watched the blond boy copy his movement, just significantly clumsier—the poor boy accidentally smacked his boyfriend square on the nose. It took a lot for Taehyun (and you) to suppress an amused laugh.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry,” whispered the blond. His boyfriend let out a small, nervous laugh, “It’s okay.”

The black-haired boy gently rubbed his nose before reaching for his boyfriend’s hand—a simple compromise. The blond avoided eye contact with you and Taehyun, choosing to shift his gaze to the carnival below. The black-haired boy spoke first, “We’re kind of… new to dating.”

The blond cringed, still looking at the fair, before nodding in agreement. You giggled at the obvious tension, quickly comforting, “It’s cute! You two seem like an adorable couple.”

The couple smiled fondly at each other. The blond squeezed his boyfriend’s hand reassuringly and it made you smile. They seemed so in love, you were swooning. The remainder of the ride was silent and the couple chose to get off the ride after the first go-around. The blond meekly nodded his head in Taehyun’s direction and your boy gently returned the gesture with a shy, caring smile.

As soon as they were out of earshot, you both broke into a fit of laughter, “Oh my God! He was totally copying you, that’s adorable!”

Taehyun gushed, “They both were so flustered! Too cute.”

You both spent the next go-around giggling, conversing about nothing, and sharing sweet, longing gazes. The carnival beneath you slowly began shutting down, each area turning their lighting off one by one. You kept your hand laced with his and while you glanced down the dying fair, he lovingly gazed at you.

“I guess that’s our cue to leave.” You gestured below. He trained his gaze to the lack of vivid lighting around the carnival and sighed, “Yeah, I guess so.”

He squeezed your hand tighter. You didn’t want to part from him so soon and he shared your exact sentiment.

· ──────────────────── ·

As Taehyun pulled into your driveway, you instantly spotted Kai’s silhouette lurking in your bedroom window.

“Jesus Christ,” you grumbled.

Kai had spent his night waiting for you to come home, eager to hear your nightmarish tale. He planned to head to his house and simply wait for your inevitable call, but when he left to grab takeout, he found himself straying back to your house. Your mother must’ve let him in, granted he was also gifted a key and he used it regularly. Your mind suddenly short-circuited by the feeling of Taehyun’s hand atop your own. If you noticed his tremble and clamminess, you didn’t mention it.

He cleared his throat, “Let me walk you to your door.”

You sheepishly nodded, anxious to speak. If yesterday, someone had told you you would be this shy at the end of the night, you would’ve laughed in their face. He rushed to open your door and you let him, much to his surprise, without any snarky remark. The short distance to your front door didn’t stop him from holding your hand, leaving you a giggly, flustered mess.

You could practically feel Kai’s smirk.

Taehyun stood awkwardly, frequently shifting his weight, while you nervously picked at your fingernail, both waiting for the other to break the silence. He took the first leap of faith, “I had a great time tonight, I hope you did too.”

You were too focused on his calloused thumb tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand, making you lose your train of thought, “Yeah! Yes! So fun!”

You winced at your overly enthusiastic response. The luminous light, hanging haphazardly above you did little to hide your anxiousness. He chuckled softly, glad he wasn’t the only nervous one, “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m sorry you nearly threw up.” You both cringed at the recent memory. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Don’t worry. Weirdly, that’s not the worst thing to happen to me on a date.”

You tilted your head curiously, you wished to hear his story. Frankly, you found yourself wishing to hear everything about him, but before anything, you needed to get some stuff off your own chest. “I’m also sorry about other stuff. I have more to apologize than you, even before the incident, I was always so abrasive and mean, and I want to apologize for that. And, I, uh, also kind of broke into your house… so obviously I’m sorry about that too. Not to mention, I thin—”

He placed his hand on your cheek and caressed softly, making you quiet. “It’s water under the bridge.”

You shyly smiled, looking away from his adoring gaze. He tried mustering up a cheesy line but he found himself losing focus, his eyes constantly straying to your lips; he couldn’t help it, he really wanted to kiss you. He sucked in a deep breath, gathering the courage to just do it, even though he knew you’d likely reject his advance. After all, it was just the first date and you only forgave him three hours ago.

Not to mention, Kai stole your phone to get Taehyun’s number just to inform him of your strict no-kiss policy.

He hesitantly brushed your hair behind your ear before leaning in slowly, his plush, attractive lips easily tempting you. Unfortunately for him, you kept to your rule. You splayed your hand across his chest before pushing him back gently, “Nice try, Romeo.”

He wasn’t surprised, it was a long shot anyways. He’d just regret it if he didn’t try. He nodded understandingly before leaning in once more, this time to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t hide the obvious blush that dusted your cheeks, making him grin. Maybe you weren’t as tough as you liked to seem.

He felt hopeful.

“So for our next date, I was thinking mini golf,” he said enthusiastically. His eyes sparkled with excitement; he seemed thrilled, you couldn’t help but giggle, “Easy there tiger, I don’t recall ever saying anything about a second date.”

He leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek, pulling away only slightly to whisper, “I think I’ll be getting another date.”

He was right. He was definitely getting another date… and maybe, just maybe, you’d break your no-kiss rule.

#will sell my soul for these tags to work ahaha tumblr ur so sexy #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun scenarios #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt scenarios #soobin #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #hueningkai #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #huening kai #txt x you

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multi-lefaiye · 2 years

Note

happy wednesbuilding worldday

can you share the Rewritten Biomutant Lore please and thank you

HI happy worldbu- wait. i see how you spelled it now. oh that's fun. i am calling it wednesbuilding worldday from now on and nothing else <3

meant to post this earlier, but alas. brain. (also i know by the time i am posting this that you have gone to bed and tomorrow you will be on you trip. so. whoops!)

okay so the Rewritten Biomutant Lore is a project i've been working on on and off with my partner @skitzo-kero for uhhhhh. A while. A few months. Time isn't real.

there's still aspects we haven't figured out, but that's okay, that's fine!

i meant to answer this earlier, but i got a little distracted whoops-

anyway thank you for the interest!! :D to keep things simple, i'm gonna give a rough overview of the lore, and then. well. if anyone's curious i'll elaborate, but for now <3 overview time.

under the cut b/c i anticipate this is going to get long

so we don't have a proper name from this project aside from Rewritten Biomutant Lore (or maybe Biomutant Rewritten), at least not right now, but uhhh don't worry about it! doesn't need a name yet.

the basic premise of this universe is that it takes place in a world where there was an apocalypse driven by climate change and pollution. the exact events of the apocalypse are intentionally a bit vague, because the creatures that live in the world after the humans disappeared don't fully understand it.

one thing that the creatures do know is that most of the humans perished in the apocalypse, but a significant chunk of them left the planet entirely in ships known as Arks, in search of new worlds to live on now that their old one was destroyed. there's no evidence that these Arks actually existed, however, aside from old records mentioning their creation.

the actual story of this world takes place in a massive valley called The Cradle, artificially created by humans centuries before. The Cradle is a place that is completely cut off from the outside world, relatively untouched by the pollution ravaging the rest of the globe. there IS life outside of The Cradle, but for the most part, the creatures living there know little about it.

within The Cradle, the main sentient beings are humanoid animals similar to raccoons in appearance. so yeah they're all furries. there are a few different breeds, but as centuries have passed, the distinctions between the breeds matter less and less and are less noticeable. i do have notes for the breeds, but they're based more directly on biomutant atm and aren't too important to a lore overview so i'll skip over that for now.

ANYWAY, there are six factions in The Cradle called colonies, and each faction follows a roughly similar belief system, though each one has different approaches to survival and the world around them. for context, morality in The Cradle is defined less as 'good' vs 'evil' and much more on the basis of what has to be done to survive.

i'm not gonna go into All of the different colonies right now, but in their beliefs, they range from "the best way to survive is to continue to evolve and fight on your own, and you must consistently strive to improve" to "the best way to survive is to work together and flourish through what we have" and everything in-between.

(insert obligatory hate-letter to the way morality is handled in Biomutant)

the colonies have an uneasy alliance with each other, but this alliance can be very easily broken and strained. however, in the face of greater threats against The Cradle, the colonies will always come together to defend it and each other. well, nearly always, at least.

in terms of spiritual beliefs, the colonies all follow roughly the same system, like i said, and believe the same base set of gods. i'll just roughly summarize the gods real quick-

the tree of life - located at the heart of The Cradle is a massive, sprawling tree that has roots extending throughout the valley. this tree is believed to be the center of all life and the source of all the magic in this area. the general belief is that as long as the tree stands, life in The Cradle will continue to flourish.

dusk & dawn - there are two spirits believed to represent dusk and dawn respectively. while they are not on the same level as the tree of life, dusk and dawn play important parts in the magic system as well as the beliefs of the colonies. essentially, dusk represents a need to persevere through darkness and evolve to survive the unknown, while dawn represents a need to work together and thrive in the light. essentially, they represent the two extreme ends of the spectrum of beliefs the colonies follow.

(the dawn and dusk spirits' part in the magic system will be explained a little later.)

the child - a bit of a nod to the protag of biomutant itself, but the child is a figure in the history of The Cradle who has been deified in history. details of their exact identity are unknown and different colonies will add different details to their story, but the general mythology around the child is that they saved the tree of life from destruction when it was still in its infancy. the child died in the process, but their legacy lives on.

sun & moon - sort of extensions of dusk and dawn but on a larger scale. haven't worked out a lot of the mythology here yet, but much of the idea is that the sun represents things to come, while the moon represents things that have passed. this also ties into the colonies' general attitudes towards the afterlife and reincarnation: when a creature dies, its soul joins the moon, and when it is ready to return to the world, it comes down from the sun.

life and death are a cycle that cannot be avoided and must instead be embraced, and that's what really lies at the heart of life in The Cradle.

destruction - okay this is a temporary name, but the destruction deity is a manifestation of the forces that ended the world originally. essentially, the creatures in The Cradle found records of the various companies and corporations that polluted the shit out of the world originally and caused the apocalypse, and in the eyes of these creatures, those groups are a god with the power to end everything they have created. some colonies view the destruction god as an inevitable part of life, and all of life as a great cycle, but others view the destruction deity as something that must be warded away.

okay uhhh it's late and i'm a little sleeby but i do want to talk a little about the magic system. this is more my partner's forte with the development, but the basic gist is that the magic in The Cradle depends heavily on the fact that these creatures are HEAVILY irradiated and mutated little shits. and these creatures' malleable DNA means that they can change themselves very easily. magic generally is referred to as psi-powers, rather than true magic.

some powers are innate, but others are a result of environmental factors. despite the time that has passed since the apocalypse, The Cradle still has tons of areas that are severely irradiated and dangerous and. well. things go wrong sometimes. these environmental powers are different for nearly everyone they manifest for, based on what environment prompts their formation.

(for example, there is a large zone in The Cradle known as the hypoxia zone, in which the land is almost completely dead and unusable, to the point where the air is very thin and there's barely any oxygen in the air. few creatures survive the hypoxia zone for long, but there are cases of creatures surviving the hypoxia zone and coming away with unusual psi-powers.)

environmental psi-powers are significantly more common than genetic/innate ones, but they are also significantly more unstable and difficult to master.

also as a note! i mentioned that dusk and dawn are important to the magic system! and that's because, in the mythology of the colonies, there are specific genetic psi-powers associated with dusk and certain ones associated with dawn. generally, psi-powers users lean one way or the other with little overlap.

and okay this is long. but have one of the first maps i made of The Cradle <3 i want to remake this at some point and rework it, but it's a good glance at what things look like. i have several more of these.

[Image Description: A mock-up of a map in my partner and I's project to rewrite Biomutant lore, showing the main setting The Cradle set against a black background. The Cradle is a large, slightly round valley, with light blue marking major bodies of water. Dark green marks the largest roots of the Tree of Life, located at the heart of the valley. End ID.]

#nciko #talk to the bunnykitty #god this took so long. anyway.#worldbuilding wednesday #or should i say. wednesbuilding worldday #biomutant rewritten #that's gonna be the new tag for this #even tho it's moving further and further away from biomutant the more we work on it #this game had a lot of potential that was underutilized. we decided to fix that #anyway if y'all are interested i would be very down to share more about this

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spencers-dria · 4 years

Note

Congratulations on almost 150 love! So I just recently watched Suburban Gothic and I fell in love. So I was linking maybe you do a Raymond X Reader? Raymond and reader get a case but Raymond doesn’t know Reader is pregnant ((they are married for about 2-3 years)). Raymond is confused as to way every ghost he encounters is over protecting his wife the reader, becuase I like to believe spirits can sense things like souls of babies and such. So when the evil spirit goes to harm Reader the spirits block and protect her. After they finish she finally admits she’s 1-2 months pregnant and wanted to surprise him. The baby will be born on Halloween and gets Raymond’s abilities. Maybe Reader and Raymond also get a black cat? If not Halloween then I was thinking maybe reader gives birth on Friday the 13th under a blue moon in October? Just a thought!

Little Pumpkin

🎉150 Follower Celebration Day 5!

Raymond x fem reader

Pure Freaking FLUFF

Warnings: mentions of spirits/hauntings, pregnancy and birth related topics

A/N: due to the timeline covered in the request I couldn’t fit it all in but would be willing to consider covering the rest in a part two if you’re interested and enjoy this one. I hope this is what you were looking for and that you enjoy it!

—————————————————————————

The first time it happened, Raymond thought nothing of it. It was a normal house call, and the family had been haunted for months. The house had a chill, but this was expected in February weather. Y/N had descended into the basement first, per their usual routine with Raymond following cautiously behind, peeking over her shoulder in a child-like fashion. That’s when it started. Lights flickered, their candles blew out by a mysterious draft, and just spooky business in general. They knew immediately there were dark spirits residing there. A dark tendrils of smoke emerged on the steps, creeping their way towards Y/N and wrapping around her legs. What they didn’t expect was the second presence that appeared. The smoky fingers quickly withdrew. They couldn’t see much, but they could hear the fight occurring around them. They waited on the basement steps until things calmed down, before a faint figure of a young woman appeared, shooting a quick wink to Y/N before disappearing back into the darkness of the basement. Raymond and Y/N shared a quick look of confusion before checking the basement and the rest of the home for stragglers and were surprised to find it now “ghost-free.

As they walked out hand in hand, Raymond commented “you know I can honestly say that was a first for me.”

“What? Having a ghost wink at you?”

“Oh no. I was quite the phantom’s man back in my single days. It was just my first time going into a dark, spooky basement without screaming like a little girl.”

The sincerity in his statement only made Y/N giggle harder. She loved her quirky, charming husband.

Raymond was lucky enough to have a family business, which meant he and Y/N always worked as a team. A few years into the marriage and they had really hit their stride. He would do a lot of the research on the location, past owners, local legends, etc. and whatever else he could find to figure out just what it was they’d be walking into. But Y/N, she was the “muscle” so to speak. She was much braver than he, and he loved her for it. They would take time to sit down with the owners together and do their best to determine just what was plaguing that home. Sure they’d find the occasional raccoon in the attic or something of the like, but surprisingly most of their calls were genuine. Together they ran a very successful and popular business.

——————————————————————————

The second time it happened was around the end of March. It was starting to warm up again, which mean Raymond was back in his rompers and boots, which Y/N loved. For some reason unbeknownst to him, she could not keep her hands to herself when he wore them. They had just begun to ascend the stairs of a very worn down home. Y/N kept teasing him, turning around to blow kisses or wiggle her hips a bit more than usual with each step. She got a little too distracted, tripping on a loose board and falling straight back. Before she could topple straight into him, she seemed to stop in midair, before slowly returning to an upright position.

“Was that- did they just catch you?”

She nodded, speechless.

They shared a look of surprise before continuing up to the attic. An hour or so later they had helped the spirit to find a lost heirloom it simply could not move on without.

That night in bed, Raymond simply couldn’t shut his mind off. Something was going on and it seemed to center around Y/N. He curled up tighter in his alien bed sheets, which he insisted on keeping despite a few eye rolls from the missus. Raymond turned on his side to find his wife also wide awake.

“Can’t sleep huh?” she asked, reaching out to stroke a thumb over his cheek.

He closed his eyes and hummed and the sweetness of her touch before opening his eyes again to meet her gaze.

“Yeah there’s just a lot on my mind lately. The ghosts have been- weird around us. Well, around you really. The kind ones never harm us but, they seem to be going out of their way to help you. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised though. You’re absolutely wonderful.”

He says the last statement so matter-of-factly there’s no doubt in her mind of his sincerity. She scoots closer until their noses are touching, as she continues to rub her hand across his face and through his hair.

“I was waiting for the right time to tell you” she whispers, a mysterious twinkle in her eye. She takes his hand and lays it gently over her belly, his long delicate fingers splayed over her skin.

“You’ve got a little one on the way.”

His brows knit in confusion. Surely she can’t mean…

“Raymond, you’re gonna be a daddy.”

His eyes grow big as his mouth opens, but no words come out. His face reads of pure adoration and joy, as he looks down, rubbing his fingers across what is soon to be her baby bump. When his eyes return to hers, they both share laughter of pure joy and disbelief.

“You’re sure? There’s really a baby in there?”

He stares at her belly with such awe. Y/N already knows he is so in love with their child. She couldn’t ask for a better father for her baby.

After much kissing and many giggles, Y/N rolls over as Raymond pulls her back against his chest, snuggling into her shoulder. He grabs her hand and places it back on her belly, before sliding his gently on top. They fall asleep together with sweet dreams of a future family.

———————————————————

Now that the secret is out things have gotten quite interesting. The spirits have been much more blunt with both of them. They were getting unsolicited but much appreciated advice from the most unexpected places.

An old woman haunting her granddaughter's house told them all the best foods and vitamins to help nourish the baby while still in the womb.

The spirit of a farmer’s wife told them all about the best birthing positions.

Spirit’s of two young ladies, sisters, helped teach them about the different options between breast feeding, pumps, and formula.

Several delightful young girls haunting a school have them lots of good ideas for names.

—————————————————————

They found out from the doctor that they’d be due in October, and the couple was absolutely ecstatic. A Halloween birthday for their first born. They couldn’t ask for a more perfect way to start their family.

Raymond began shopping accordingly as soon as he received the news. This included baby onesies which read: wicked cute, little pumpkin, and baby boo. Y/N just knew he’d go even more overboard with the newborn pictures.

“Look at this one though!”

“Raymond we have more baby clothes than they will ever be able to wear!”

He held up a little hat, knit look like a pumpkin, with a little green stem and leaves on top. As he held it up to his face, he gave his wife the saddest of puppy dog eyes.

“The hats pretty cute.” She leaned in and kissed his nose. “But you’re cuter. This is the last one though, Raymond. I mean it!”

It wasn’t.

—————————————————————-

Then one day it happened. They were helping with a haunting of a local business owner. Once again, the spirit was giving some input on what to expect, since they’re expecting.

“Oh and don’t worry, it shouldn’t take too long before you’re able to tell them apart.”

The wide eyed and confused glance shared between the couple told the haunt all it needed to know.

“Oh I’m sorry. I thought you knew… you’re having twins!”

After the initial shock and excitement wore off, Raymond turned to his wife with the biggest smirk.

“Looks like we’ll need more baby clothes after all.”

#suburban gothic #MGG #Raymond suburban gothic #fluff #pregnant reader #spooky #halloween fic

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residentevildash-moved · 3 years

Note

why dont you wanna play re2make?

short answer: it simply doesnt appeal to me

long answer: going under cut LOL

[warning its really long and i start to sound mean near the end i think]

re2make lands in a specific & unfortunate spot where i cant enjoy it at face value as a res evil game, and i cant enjoy it in a dismissive "woah look how crazy this is lol" way, either. it just irks me a lot. ill try to explain

my first res evil game was the re1 remake, which was very faithful to the orig re1, in terms of gameplay and style. i LOVED this. then i went to play the next game in the series, and went for the re2 remake, since i (naive, new to this cruel world) figured it was a remake like the re1 remake, in terms of style & stuff, and. um! well. it isnt! right? its different, since it was made in 2019, and REmake was in......2002? i want to say? hold on. . . yeah 2002. so of course they werent going for the same style of remake. they were making it to appeal to modern game audiences, so it was less of a 1:1 and more of a re-imagining. and it doesnt try to say otherwise, it knows that its a re-telling/re-imagining, i was just not expecting that (again, naive, unaware of the hell that is capcom games)

right, so, i played maybe 5 minutes of re2r, and was like "i dont like this, im just going to play the original re2" and did that. i loved re2 a lot. i mean. <3 <3 <3 . so, as someone who's now attached to the orig re2, i have my perceptions of each of the characters and everything all living in the delicate ecosystem of my brain; near and dear 2 me etc. re2make is a whole different animal, and if it interacts with said ecosystem, all the little bugs are going to explode and blood disaster forever. this brings us to the section of my answer where i explain my beef with re2 remake leon

[id: "My beef with re2make Leon" in all caps]

i just dont like him. i dont like what they did with his character, i dont like how he looks, and i hate how fans talk about him, which he is unfortunately getting blamed for since seeing him reminds me of the vile shit that ive seen (whoever made the naked sexy whatever leon mod(?) is going to hell and im smashing them with hammers). ok. taking a step back. what actually wrong with him?

the simple answer is "hes just not leon." leon, in re2, is kind of a bitch, a guy who got blackout drunk (bc he was upset abt a breakup) the night before driving into raccoon city to be like 8 hours late for the first day of his job. which turned out to be zombies. which he fought while hungover the entire time. while being ridiculous & stupid. re2make 'leon' (i need the ' ' for my own sanity) is just some regular guy who doesnt have any of that going on. he has a lukewarm, generic personality and could be named matthew and it wouldnt make a difference. design wise, re2make 'leon' was also made to look friendly(?), or whatever the fuck, and his haircut is more generic, while re2 leon looks kind of mean (on purpose) and has the iconic curtain bangs. theyre just different characters, so it irks me that the re2r guy is considered to be leon. i know its subjective, but this is all just my opinion anyways. i do appreciate his existence though, because hes fodder for horny people, dbd players, and annoying people who call anything that moves a twink. its like this

so thanks 2 him for that

i also dont like what they did to claire, sinc she looks like debbie ryan and her dialogue is less cool. shes just lamer and more .. i dont know. generic Girl. claire is a badass and re2r claire is kind of nothing, but not as nothing as 'leon.' i just feel bad for what capcom did to her

you may have seen my other response to an ask abt wtrc, where i said i was ok with it being different from the source, so i just wanted to add that its different with re2r because 1. it takes itself seriously, 2. its a videogame so thats many hours of psychological torment as opposed to 1-2 hours 3. avan jogia as leon

i hope this answers your question? i guess the true answer is that i cannot play it because it will make me mad. i think its a fine game for other people to like, like, its a generic whatever """resident evil""" experience, but i just really dislike its entire angle. heres my fav image ive made abt this

and some bonus re2 pics/concept art if you made it to the end thanks for reading

#also keep in mind i. mental illness #my posts #asks #anon #alt answer: i just cant stand modern triple A games

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prolestariwrites · 3 years

Text

Triple Play

➔Fandom: Resident Evil ➔Rating: Explicit ➔Characters: Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira

➔Summary: Chris and Jill have been partners for years, but he never actually considered her a woman before. When he finds out more about her dating life than he ever wanted to know, it starts to make him re-evaluate his own (lack of) love life. Beta read by @solynacea.

My first RE fic, and of course it’s a smut oneshot! Hope you all like it. It’s also on AO3, so visit me there!

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Chris remembers that Jill is a woman about two years after Raccoon City. They are finishing up a briefing and looking forward to a few days off when Capriotti makes a joke about Jill wearing lipstick. He hadn’t noticed himself, and turns his head to see that she is, indeed, wearing some color of pink on her lips. She’s also wearing eye makeup, subtle but there, and a shimmering top under her jacket. He guesses he didn’t pay close enough attention earlier, just acknowledging her when she arrived and launching into the gains they’d made until the meeting wrapped up.

Capriotti cracks a joke about a hot date, and Jill replies slyly, “Don’t you know it.”

Chris frowns as the others guys laugh. “Who is it?” Capriotti pushes.

“Yeah, I asked you out like five times,” Sami complains.

Jill makes a face. “How do you know it’s a guy?”

“It’s not?” Capriotti howls, half laughing and half in shock. “You’re not serious!”

“You afraid I’m getting more pussy than you?” she jokes.

The group continues to laugh but Chris tunes out. Jill is…? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but how didn’t he know? Should he have known? He wishes he didn’t know now.

He gives her a little signal as the group heads out and she walks over to where he stands at the head of the table. “What’s up?” she asks.

“Uh…” Chris clears his throat, looking up to check and make sure the rest are gone. “I was just wondering… I mean, I didn’t know you were a lesbian.”

Jill’s eyes go wide and then she bursts out laughing. “Are you kidding me? I was just messing with those guys.”

“Okay. Not that you couldn’t be. I was just surprised you hadn’t mentioned it.”

Chris’s face is hot but Jill just shrugs. “Not like we have time to date. Or talk about dating. I guess it never came up.” She laughs again and shakes her head. “But no, I’m not a lesbian. If I change my mind, though, you’ll be the first to know.”

She’s teasing him, he can tell that much, but he stammers a bit as he asks, “So, who are you seeing? Someone I know?”

“Yes, actually,” she replies, with a little grin. “Carlos Oliveira.”

“Oliveira?” Chris repeats, his brows drawing together. “The guy from Raccoon City? The Umbrella guy?”

“He’s not the Umbrella guy,” Jill corrects. “But yes, him. He’s with the UN now doing anti-terrorism work. And we actually both have time off together for once, so I’m spending it with him.”

Chris nods, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea. “Didn’t realize you had stayed in touch.”

She gives a shrug. “We see each other when we can. I like him. He’s not at all like most of the guys I meet. They either want to see Miss Badass become their sex slave or want me to step on their balls.”

He goes red again at the idea. “What?”

“You know what I mean. But Carlos just wants me. It’s refreshing.” She tilts her head for a second, considering him. “You should have some fun while we have a few days off. Go out on a date or something.”

“I date,” he argues. Jill gives him a look that shows she definitely doesn’t believe that at all, so he hurries to clarify, “Plus, like you said, we don’t have time for it.”

She pats him on the arm and turns for the door. “Anything else? I have reservations.”

“No, but does that mean we’re not meeting Tuesday?” he asks.

Jill shoots him a look over her shoulder. “No, we’re not meeting on Tuesday. I’m on vacation. As are you. So no check-in this week. Plus,” she adds with a grin, “if I’m lucky, I won’t be able to walk by then.”

He makes a face, and she laughs as she heads out the door. The room is blessedly silent, but that leaves Chris with his thoughts, which are now filled with Jill on a date and that is just too weird for him. So he picks up his stuff and heads out, hurrying back to his apartment.

Yet all the way up the elevator his brain can’t stop thinking. Jill, and that guy? His partner Jill, Jill who could shoot a zombie right between the eyes at twenty yards, Jill who was the only one on the team who didn’t throw up in the sewer when they were chasing a monster that had been mutated with three different virus strains? Jill. Dating Carlos.

Chris had met him, of course, after Raccoon City. The second he had gotten word of what went down, he caught the first flight back to the States to find the rest of S.T.A.R.S. Hearing that his sister had headed that way only made his panic worse, so when he arrived at the Red Cross encampment, he was only able to stay long enough to find out that almost everyone was dead before he was getting pulled to go work. Jill had seemed fine, shaken and exhausted but okay, and she had introduced him to Carlos, saying he had saved her. But Chris’ eyes went immediately to the red and white emblem on his shoulder, and barely heard another word as he promised to check in once he got a hold of Claire.

That guy? It’s so hard to picture. He’s not even Jill’s type. Jill’s type is…

Chris draws a blank. She’s mentioned dating before, right? He frowns as the elevator slows. Maybe, maybe not? But he knows for sure she’d never go for that type, the tall-dark-and-handsome or whatever. Too cliche.

Why do you care? his brain scoffs. Not like he’s interested, which he is not. Chris clears his throat, thinking that’s even weirder. Jill is… Jill. Not a sister really, not like Claire, because he doesn’t have the undeniable instinct to protect her at any cost. He doesn’t need to, because Jill can do fine on her own. Jill is his buddy. His partner. His pal. So why do you care?

“I don’t,” he says aloud, as the elevator doors open.

There are two agents on the other side who give him a funny look, and he sheepishly steps around them. He heads to his apartment in the officers’ building, relieved when he’s finally inside. Almost two weeks off, maybe a bit more if the world doesn’t end and they aren’t needed back immediately, and Chris decides he’s going to enjoy it. He’s going to relax and do some reading and… something. He’s got two weeks to figure it out.

Go out on a date or something.

He huffs at that as he moves around his kitchen, making some pasta. Date who? Nobody on the team, and everyone else is either under him or over him, so it’s all too awkward. There is the staff at the agency who keep the machine working, and he remembers Lisa from lab reception. “See? I date,” he says to the empty apartment. He had taken Lisa out to dinner after she had dropped some subtle hints at being interested, like “Do you want to get dinner sometime?” Chris grins smugly at himself as he stirs macaroni. The relationship didn’t really go anywhere after a few months; too hard to be away for days or weeks at a time, even though Lisa was good-natured about it. She was sweet in bed too, but not exactly his style. “I date,” he says again, as if to confirm.

The pasta and sauce are ready so he takes his bowl to the living room to find a game to watch. This is how you enjoy a vacation, he decides. Feet up, comfort food, America’s pastime on television. He sinks into the cushions as the third inning starts, feeling satisfied. Better this than getting all dolled up to go out, get sweaty, and meet someone for a night that goes nowhere.

Yet all that thinking about Jill and Carlos and Lisa has made him realize it has been a while. A real long while, and when he puts aside his empty bowl his mind starts to wander. His hand rubs against his crotch, soothing the erection growing underneath his sweats, and he thinks about Lisa. Lisa with the blond curls and the little dimple on her left ass cheek. She liked him on top, but he pictures her on his lap, dragging her fingers through his hair. It’s her hand that is fisting his cock, and Chris lets go a grunt as he lifts his hips to tug the waistband down enough to free it, giving in to the fantasy.

He sighs and tilts his head back, almost feeling her hair brushing his face as she strokes him boldly. But Lisa was never exactly bold in bed, so when he opens his mind’s eye it’s not her, but Jill on his lap. She’s wearing a t-shirt pulled too tight over her chest, and when his free hand reaches out to grab onto her hip, he realizes she’s wearing nothing else.

Jill says his name with her signature smirk before kissing him, and in his confusion he accepts. His hand moves faster, the end inevitable now, and he wonders how her lean body would feel against his, so much tighter and stronger than Lisa’s soft little self. His fingers dig into his thigh just as they would dig into her hip and he comes, pleasure sharp and intense and unexpected as it runs down his fingers.

Chris opens his eyes, breathing heavily as he shakes himself back to reality. “What the fuck?” he laughs, sitting up slowly to reach for the box of tissues. He might as well be in goddamn eighth grade, getting lost in a vivid daydream like that and not having the sense to prep for cleanup. What the hell is wrong with him?

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Four days later, Chris is bored. A guy like him who is used to action doesn’t do well without anything to keep him occupied. He works out and goes shopping and works out some more, but after going down to the bar around the corner for a drink and dinner, he realizes that vacation isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. And it’s too late now to call Claire and invite her somewhere, especially since she’s in California or something.

He needs to get out of this rut, so Chris makes a decision. He sends an email to the team and invites everyone over for poker the next night. He grins as one acceptance after another comes through, jokes ranging from Captain? You dying or something? to Get your money ready, making him chuckle. But then he is surprised when Jill emails him too: I’d love to come, alright if I bring Carlos?

It’s fine, he answers back, but what happened to not being able to walk?

It takes a full five minutes to get an answer back, and Chris smirks to himself at being able to surprise Jill Valentine. But eventually she does answer: I’m a girl of many talents. Damn her.

The next night is plenty fun. He splurges on the good beer and even an excellent bottle of bourbon, figuring if he can’t spend his salary on booze, what else is there? Peterson brings cigars and there are eight of them that wind up playing, including Carlos, who fits right in with the group well enough that Chris can pretty much ignore him and the way his hand sits on Jill’s thigh.

They play a few rounds but they end up talking more than looking at cards, so the game evolves into a proper party of drinking and stories. Chris orders pizza and when it arrives, the crowd gathers in his kitchen to eat and he realizes Jill is missing. He heads down the hallway to check the bathroom but finds it empty. So is his office, and curious, he pokes his head into the bedroom. That’s also empty, but he hears something in the master bath, and without even thinking he walks through the room and opens the door.

Chris finds them alright. Carlos is fucking her against his sink, their arms locked around one another, her shirt pushed up and her jeans dangling from one knee and his jeans in a puddle around his ankles. He comes to a stop as his eyes go wide, watching in a weird moment of frozen time, noticing how they’ve knocked over his little container of cotton swabs and that the mirror is steamed up from their breath. Then Jill gives a yelp that shakes him back to present, and he gets a quick glance of Carlos’ dick pulling out of her flushed folds before yelling, “Shit, sorry!” and promptly closing the door.

He is sure his face is red when he returns to the others, but they must assume it’s the alcohol because no one says anything. Jill and Carlos join them a few minutes later, and he feels distracted, not because of what they were doing, but because he is oddly curious if they finished or not.

The evening winds down and everyone helps clean up a bit before they say their goodbyes, and somehow he ends up alone with Jill and Carlos as the only ones left. “Let me help you with this stuff,” she says, and he notes the blush on her cheeks as she fills her arms with empty bottles and cups and walks to the kitchen.

Chris is about to go after her when Carlos pats him on the arm. “Hey, man,” he says. “Sorry about earlier.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s fine.”

“I’m so embarrassed.” Jill reappears, laughing and shaking her head. “That was not the right place or time.”

“Didn’t think anyone would catch us if we snuck off,” Carlos offers, laughing too. “You scared the hell out of us though.”

“Sorry.” Chris chuckles, thinking that this should be awkward and glad that it’s not. “Hey, at least the place saw some action. Not like there’s a lot going on in that department.”

He gives another laugh, but the other two don’t find the humor. “Don’t say that,” Carlos replies. “Guy like you is probably beating the girls off with a stick.”

“Not exactly,” Chris says. He pushes a chair under the table to cover his embarrassment. “But really, it’s fine.”

“I take full responsibility.” Carlos puts a hand up as if swearing an oath. “It was all my idea. I just can’t keep my hands off her.”

“Carlos!” Jill scolds, holding her forehead in her hand.

He points at her with a grin. “Hey, it’s not my fault. You’re fucking gorgeous. And your ass in those jeans? I mean what is a man supposed to do with that?” He turns to Chris with a smile. “I mean, you know what I mean, right man?”

“Chris doesn’t think like that,” Jill teases. “He is too respectful.”

“Well you’re disrespectful in those jeans.”

“Carlos.”

“I don’t,” Chris interjects. They both turn from their fun to look at him, and he hurries on, “I mean, think that way about Jill.”

Carlos makes a face. “What? Are you telling me you two never…?”

“Never!” laughs Jill.

“I’m surprised,” he says. “I wouldn’t be able to do a thing if I looked at her all day.”

Chris shrugs. “Sorry. I just never thought of her like that.” He glances over, surprised that she is frowning. “What? Are you mad or something?”

“No,” she protests. “But you didn’t have to be so adamant about it.”

He opens his mouth to argue before he remembers that he did, in fact, think of Jill that way, just the other day, not three feet from where they were all standing. “So you want me to then?” he laughs.

Jill rolls her eyes. “I don’t care if you do or not. All I’m saying is that if you did, you wouldn’t have to be ashamed of it.”

Chris clears his throat. “We’re partners. Not exactly appropriate.”

She sighs and walks towards him, her arms folded. “Chris, when are you gonna get over bullshit like what’s appropriate? We spend our whole lives fighting biological weapons, killing monsters, saving people. Every single day. We leave here on each mission not knowing if we’re coming back. Not knowing who is going to get infected or shot or bitten, if you’re going to have to pull the trigger or if I am.” Jill is standing in front of him now, barely an inch away, and he searches her face, wondering when this turned serious. “So when I’m not killing monsters and hunting people who want to see me dead or worse, I’m going to do what I want. I’m not spending the time I do have worrying about what’s appropriate. And if I want to have sex with someone, then I’m going to fucking have sex.”

He gives a huff, not quite a laugh, not sure what she’s trying to say. “I understand,” he replies.

“Do you?”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I did think about you like that. Jerked off to it too.”

The words are out before he can stuff them back in, and his eyes go wide the second they are released. Panic rises in his throat for the longest second of his life as Jill’s mouth opens in an O of surprise; but then she smiles and presses her palms to his chest. “Did you really?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he chokes out.

Jill then does the last thing he expects. She leans up and kisses him, pressing her mouth firmly on his, one of her hands moving to cup the back of his neck. She should be slapping him or something, calling their supervisor, maybe shooting him? But instead she tilts her head and gives his lower lip a little bite, and a split second later he puts his arms around her waist and pulls her against him.

Her mouth opens and his follows suit. Her tongue rolls into his mouth, sliding along his, sending a little thrill up his spine. Chris realizes he had been right; she feels nothing like anyone else, her body somehow both solid and light as he presses her firmly to him.

Jill breaks the kiss suddenly, and he stares at her in shock as she blinks up at him. “Is this okay?” she asks.

Chris is about to answer when she looks to the side, and he realizes she’s talking to Carlos. He gives a start, releasing his grip; how did he forget Carlos was standing there and watching? The guy will deck him for sure.

Carlos nods, a little smile on his face. “Yeah. It’s all good.”

A million and one questions instantly flood his mind but her mouth is on his again, and Chris can’t deny the absolutely undeniable pull she has. Jill has always been like this, hasn’t she? Like a rocket, or an anchor, or a little beacon that pulses and makes people shut up and listen.

Which is what he should be doing now instead of listing adjectives in his head. “Sit,” she says, and Chris realizes she’s pulled him to the couch. Her hands push his shirt up and he helps her remove it before he sits, and Jill steps between his legs, leaning down to slide her touch along his arms.

“You good?” she asks, and her concern is almost touching.

“Yeah,” he replies.

He watches with great interest as she unbuttons her jeans and shimmies out of them, pulling her underwear down with them. Chris’ heart beats faster to see her slim thighs that curve up into perfect hips, his favorite part of a woman. Her stomach is flat with the hint of muscle underneath, her waist tiny and trim and making him start to get hard before his eyes even fall to the place between her thighs. As if she knows, Jill presses her hand against her sex, rubbing herself as she climbs onto his lap.

Her knees straddle him and she reaches for her shirt, but Chris stops her. This is it, his fantasy that he had conjured, and he takes a minute to just enjoy Jill Valentine half naked on his lap and the tight anticipation of what her chest is going to look like bare and what she is going to feel like sliding onto his dick. His hands press against her thighs and he slides them up, tracing the path his eyes took over hips and stomach and waist until he grazes the underside of her bra.

Jill shifts on his lap and Chris catches sight of Carlos. He is leaning against the table where they played cards on the other side of the room, just watching, his hand rubbing himself on the outside of his jeans. And fuck is that hot, knowing he’s watching and enjoying as he gets ready to fuck his girlfriend—what the fuck is wrong with him? He’s not this kind of guy, he doesn’t do kinky shit like this, he doesn’t get off on having sex in front of people or fucking his partner or having sex without at least buying dinner first and the pizza didn’t count at all.

“Hey,” Jill murmurs, tilting his chin up. “You still with me?”

“We really doing this?” he asks stupidly.

She snorts. “Yeah. If you want to.”

Fuck-shit-damn yes he wants to, his cock is like steel now at the very idea. He wants to do this. He wants to give up control and hand it over, stop playing by rules that don’t work and write some of his own. He wants to stop being in charge for one night and let someone else make decisions, wants to follow instead of lead, wants to be anyone other than Chris Redfield, special agent. He wants to fuck the girl every man wants as her boyfriend watches, and that nearly short circuits his thinking.

So maybe it’s not such a surprise that he says the dumbest sentence ever uttered, one that later he’ll think about and want to kick his own ass. “But you’ve already had sex tonight.”

Carlos chuckles from where he stands and Jill laughs along, stroking his cheek. “I got a special dispensation from the president,” she says, before sealing her mouth on his in a kiss.

She is cool and light against him, and Carlos was right, her ass is perfect. He grips her backside and squeezes as she grinds on his lap. Jill groans into his mouth and Chris realizes it’s because she’s rubbing herself against his erection, pressing up in a hard tent at the front of his jeans. Her fingers stroke against his shoulders and down his chest, running through the hair there and tracing along his pecs until they move lower, outlining his abdominals. She rolls her hips again and again and he can feel her getting his jeans wet, or maybe that’s him? Either way, he lets go of her long enough to open them, needing the relief more than ever.

Jill moves up on her knees to let him slide his pants down his hips, and she uses the opportunity to pull her t-shirt off over her head. Now she is left in only her bra, a lacy red thing that is so opposite of everything he knows about her that he can only stop and stare. He reaches up to carefully pull one cup down to expose her pink nipple, rubbing his thumb against the hard bud.

There is moisture leaking from the tip of his cock, and Jill uses it to stroke him, her hand tight as she pumps his length with quick, firm movements. Chris leans forward to lick her nipple, then presses his lips to her body, sucking lightly. Someone like her, would she even like the normal stuff? But she sighs in response, her other hand pressing to the back of his head to keep him there, and Chris uses his teeth and tongue to tease her until she is rubbing her sex against his.

Jill gives a groan, and he looks up to see that Carlos has moved behind her. He cups her chin up and to the side, his curls falling a bit to cover their kiss. Chris freezes momentarily, but then Carlos pulls away with a playful bite to her lip. “Does he feel good?” he murmurs.

“I can’t wait anymore,” Jill pants.

Carlos reaches into his pocket and pulls out a condom, handing it to her between two fingers. Jill snatches it and smiles at Chris as she tears it open, and he leans back on the couch, pressing his hands to the cushion. He watches in a sort of daze as she rolls it down his length, anticipation tightening his stomach as she leans up and angles him against her body before finally sinking down around him.

Chris lets out a hiss of pleasure as he throws his head back. Jill’s mouth is hot on his neck as she works to take him in, but with her slick body and the lubricated condom he slips inside with little trouble. She squeezes tightly around him, nearly taking his ability to breathe, before she pulls back and braces her hands on his shoulders.

When she starts to move, he risks a peek, groaning as the sight of her sends a jolt of excitement straight through his cock. Carlos is kissing her shoulder, undoing her bra and pulling it down her arms to toss it away before he grabs her bare breasts. She reaches up one arm to wrap around his neck as the other digs hard into Chris’ shoulder, and he watches in rapt attention as she fucks him while Carlos fondles her chest, delivering open mouthed kisses along her neck. Chris reaches up and presses his hands to her waist, dragging them over her hips as his eyes go downwards and giving another groan when his gaze falls on where they are joined, his cock disappearing in between her lips.

Jill stops the roll of her hips momentarily, keeping him buried inside of her, and he can feel her nearly pulsing around him. “She’s close,” Carlos says roughly, and Chris’ eyes snap up to his when he realizes he’s talking to him.

“Already?” he pants. Carlos nods, and Chris huffs a laugh. “So am I.”

Jill grins, opening her eyes as she bites her lower lip. “Can’t let this end too fast.”

She pushes off of him to stand, and Chris swallows a protest, his cock bobbing when it is released. But Jill grabs his pants and pulls them down his legs, and once they are removed she kneels on the carpet, carefully pulling the condom away. “I bet you taste delicious,” she says, and his eyes nearly roll back into his head when she lowers her lips onto his length.

Jill sucks him hungrily, making his head spin. Chris jerks upwards into her mouth, but fists his hands into the couch to let her work. Behind her, Carlos has pulled out his own cock and is stroking it freely, watching with dark, hooded eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he groans before going down on his knees.

As Carlos pushes her thighs apart and pulls her hips upwards, her moan vibrates along his cock as she swallows him completely. Her eyes squeeze shut as she sucks for as long as she can before coming up for breath, panting against his wet length as Carlos starts to fuck her from behind. “Slow,” she pants, and Carlos instantly eases his pace. Her eyes meet Chris’ and stay there as she rolls her tongue around the head of his cock; then she is swallowing him again, the sensation nearly driving him mad with desire. It strikes him that he never understood before why someone would want it like this, least of all a woman, finding porn like this vulgar and strange: but now he realizes that it’s because she’s in control, with two men ready to worship her body, and Chris is willing to give her anything in this moment.

Soon he is close again, and he hisses her name. Jill pulls off and grips his cock, stroking him quickly as her mouth drops down to press her tongue against his sac. Carlos starts to move faster, drawing a whine from Jill’s throat, and when she shudders against him, Chris realizes she’s coming. It sends him right over the edge, his body tightening almost painfully before his seed spills out in a great spurt that she quickly moves her mouth to swallow. Carlos holds her firmly by the waist as she trembles, but Chris can only focus on her lips sliding along his cock in time with the pulsing that rocks deeply through him. He lifts his hips to push in further with the final waves of pleasure, and Jill swallows him with a sigh that she releases when he finally slides his cock from her mouth.

Carlos pulls her closer to him, and he muffles a groan against her shoulder as he jerks his hips. Jill looks up at Chris, their eyes locking as she licks her lips, and Chris swallows thickly, knowing Carlos is finishing inside of her. His erection is softening, but not nearly as fast as it usually does, and when she turns her face to kiss Carlos and he watches her tongue slide into his mouth, his cock jerks uncomfortably.

She laughs a bit when Carlos finally releases her. “Damn,” Carlos sighs, rubbing her arms. “So fucking hot. Told ya, man.”

He is grinning at Chris, who nods, rubbing the palm of his hand on his forehead. “Yeah,” he agrees lamely.

It feels so damn awkward now, but the other two don’t seem fazed, climbing to their feet as they chuckle together. Carlos yanks up his jeans before grabbing Jill, pulling her into a deep kiss as Chris looks up and watches. He remembers how he couldn’t believe they’d be together just days ago, and now he knows what an absolute idiot he is.

“Carlos and I are driving down the coast tomorrow,” Jill says, turning to look at him as Carlos kisses her neck. “Do you want to come? Spend a few days on the beach?”

“With you two?” he asks stupidly. Carlos lifts his head and Chris holds up a hand. “Yeah. Dumb question. Sorry.”

He stands awkwardly, wanting to put on some clothes, but Jill slides her hand over his hip. “Well? Do you want to come?”

The question makes his neck heat, and he nods. “Sure. Why not.”

“Good,” Carlos says.

They banter a bit as they get dressed, Chris just listening as he tries to figure out what to say. He spots the condom on the floor and quickly picks it up, and when he returns from throwing it away Carlos is at the door, grabbing his jacket. “Hey,” Jill says, stepping up to press her hand on his chest, just like she had before. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Chris answers. “I’m fine.”

“Be ready by ten.” Then she gives him a wink and they head out the door, Carlos slinging his arm around her shoulder as he gives a wave.

The door shuts behind them, leaving the apartment in silence and Chris standing with his pants half undone. “See? I have sex,” he says to the room.

#resident evil #chris redfield #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #re #fanfiction #re fanfic

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