#seriously this just proves my point that you sought me out just to say something you already said on Reddit

[eclipse-colony]

"down with fdc?" More like down with specifically YOU!!!

Considering this is basically the same thing a member of fdc said on the post featuring my blog I’m left to assume you looked for and found my blog specifically to say this to me directly. All that does is prove my point that fdc encourages harassment of the people posted and that the censorship rule does nothing to actually protect people’s privacy.

Fdc has no way of fact checking if the people they claim to be faking disorders are and most of its users are so karma happy that they end up looking for systems or people with other disorders and post their content without so much as a look into the person. We aren’t seen as people but instead targets of mockery and a source of validation for the posters.

I made my down with fdc post without having been posted there myself because I have seen the harm and paranoia it causes for people. Many of those that state online their mental health conditions and experiences do so because they are looking for community and support from others who actually have the disorder not those you haven’t lived with it or doctors, that form of emotional and professional support is valuable and needed but sometimes what we need is to talk to someone who has similar life experiences.

Users on fdc like the one that posted me are a prime example of what I see as way the sub is harmful. The person who posted me had stalked and made a whole “saga” posting one blog for several days in a row, their first post had incredibly poor censoring which led to another system searching their url and messaging them to let them know anyone that saw the post could find them easily, they responded which led the fdc op whom was stalking their page to post systems2 carrd which contained their system name and can also be easily found.

I then had my down with fdc post reblogged by system2 which led to the fdc op posting me as well.

My point is the fdc poster had been posting several days in a row on system1 blog and the blogs that interacted with it. How anyone sees this as anything but obsessive I don’t know.

Some fdc posters such as the one that posted me also actively seek out and invade safe spaces for systems so that they can post them to be made fun of.

Another issue with fdc is the fact that they do not take take down requests for posts even if a person was to prove their diagnosis I know this because others have asked on the fdc discord. Fdc mods have also banned and muted people for sharing US government articles stating the actual statistics of DID specifically claiming it to be misinformation.

Another reason I have such a strong dislike for fdc is due to the fact that most people that are posted do suffer from mental disorders. Even if they are right and the person posted is faking (which the posters have no way of proving.) purposefully faking a disorder is a disorder called Munchausen syndrome and those suffering from it still deserve kindness respect and treatment.

I understand this response is long and you probably won’t read or that you’ll just screenshot it and put it on fdc so you can get karma but I hope that you’ll actually process what I’ve said.

-V

[whatsonmedia]

The Path of Mindfulness in The Mind

There Are Moments When Even I Can Struggle to Find The Balance at Times On of the things that I have occasionally spoke quite openly about, and without any shame or remorse I might add simply because I didn't feel any when I first started talking about it. And I still don't know. I am in fact banging on about both our Minds and Mindfulness. The topic of Mental Health. Over the past year or so when I have sat down and watched TV, listened to conversations about work or anything else that's just happened to grab my interest. Even Roman Kemp's mentioned it many times and I think it's good that he's actually being so open and honest about it and not treating it as a taboo topic. In the interests of our minds, I just say, to hell with typical attitudes and get talking. The worst-case scenario is mental breakdown and/or death, and by that, I mean suicide. Other outcomes are a long and painful road of mental and psychological troubles  For me, this is something that I have rarely spoken about, from a personal perspective that is, though thankfully it didn't lead down a dark path. Though i did go through a merry-go-round of moments with anxiety. When I watched a TV programme, Countryfile to be exact, the subject of Mindfulness was frequently mentioned.  Well apart from having its own website the techniques of the process have been talked about. They involve The 5 Steps - - First Mindfulness Exercise: Mindful Breathing. - - Second Mindfulness Exercise: Concentration. - - Third Mindfulness Exercise: Awareness of Your Body. - - Fourth Mindfulness Exercise: Releasing Tension. - - Fifth Exercise: Walking Meditation. From looking at the list I have only ever used the 2nd one the most, the fifth I only ever used if I was out and about somewhere but I suppose you could argue that that also counts. The 1st and 3rd I barely used at all, not because I questioned about whether they'd help, but because I just couldn't be a***d.  The last time I used these was not that long ago this year but also over 5 years ago when I was between jobs and wondered if I'd ever get myself back into the working world. I even made a little post about it in my blog Adam's Journal when I was in a somber and something depressing place and genuinely wanted somewhere that I could just type my thoughts and leave them until I felt ready to revisit them again  Adam's Journal In the post I spoke openly about the Anxiety I coped with for two months whilst between jobs. The mental anxiety of suddenly being unemployed after over a decade of being in a job (but necessarily one I enjoyed or felt any kind of fulfillment in) to suddenly not having anything. The anxiety of having to sign on (not something that even I would recommend lightly just so you know) whilst looking for work and having to have weekly meetings at the Job Centre to prove that I was actively seeking work. To balance it out there was the upside with getting interviews but then there was the downside where I talk about the seemingly never-ending rejections. To cut it short there ending, for back then, was positive but the general gist of what I am trying to point out here was all the roller coaster-esque moments I was dealing with in my mind According to mental health charity, Mind, around 1 in 4 of us do suffer with mental health related issues but haven't been able to get support.  Though the support is out there I have never sought any, not because I felt too ashamed or considered it too much of a hassle, but because I didn't view my issues as that server. Don't get me wrong, I know that there are many people who'll have thought that their mental state wasn't that enough to warrant it, but for me I knew what my anxiety causing problems were. Just a case of dealing with the prime idiots who I considered to be my Grief Mongers. Basically, the eejits who were the cause of my problems. But having said all I do take my mental health quite seriously, and I think some of it comes from a variety of places; watching multitudes of people linger over the heads of friends and family and seeing how it affected them; my own life experiences and slowly realizing that unless I spoke our nothing was ever going to happen; and of course slowly arriving at the actual realization that the so-called infamous British Saying 'Boys don't cry', 'man up' and the term 'stiff upper lip' were basically just complete and utter garbage.  If history has indeed taught us anything it's that ignoring the problems that haunt us mentally does us way more harm than we realized. Also, sticking your head in the sand like the Ostrich isn't even remotely helpful either, the trouble is still there and doesn't shift because you've buried your head. In other words, we shouldn't be shoving our heads in the earth and we should just do away with the so-called British traditions of 'boys don't cry', 'man up' and 'stiff upper lip' Co's let's face it, they're complete and utter rubbish and belong in the bin. Sources Read the full article

[raggaraddy]

Sauna

Summary: Taehyung always makes you wait on him, but he is going to make sure you learn that he should never have to wait on you.

Trigger Warnings: Smut, Smut, Smut, abuse, Dom/sub-themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic, ambiguous torture.

Taehyung

Yandere!Taehyung

Dom!Taehyung

You've been waiting for Taehyung for hours now. Once again work claims his time and focus. Luckily his luxurious house has plenty to keep you entertained. Knowing Tae, it could be anywhere from 30 minutes to 8 hours that he's locked away. So while you patiently wait for him to be available you decide to make use of the sauna. You know you'll be able to quickly shower and be ready for him within a few minutes when he calls. And he won't mind wet hair or a lack of makeup. He isn't interested in anything like that. He just wants you in position ready for him.

Spending lots of 20 minutes, you cycle through small sessions in the heat and steam with rests in between. It gets to near 90 minutes and on your fourth time heading into the sauna you can feel you are just about at your limit, your head starting to become a bit light.

After only 5 minutes more you decide to cut it short. You remember you haven't really drunk enough water throughout the day and you don't want to risk overdoing it and becoming dazed with Taehyung.

Standing up, you bundle your towel wiping at the sweat dripping from your forehead. You jump as you bring it down, startled by Taehyung standing in the doorway suddenly, looking displeased.

"Ignoring my calls are you?" He opens the sauna door questioning sternly. Your smile changes into a frown of confusion. He called? He never called. Or at least your phone never rang.

"No," you shake your head feeling flustered at suddenly being put on the spot. Passing him diffidently he backs out of the doorway and allows you to exit into the cooldown room.

"Then why did I have to come searching for you?" he berates.

You know you checked the volume. You purposefully made it as loud as you could because you wanted to make sure you would hear it over the music in the sauna. You pick up your phone only to find it dead. You checked the volume but not the battery, and you didn't think to look at it in the past hour, not wanting to touch it while you were sweaty.

Putting the phone face down, sheepishly you turn around. Taehyung hates to be kept waiting. It's something he never tolerates. And you know what he'll say. That being careless is not a sufficient excuse.

"I'm sorry, Sir. It won't happen again." You apologize contritely, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

"That's not what I asked girl." He demands an answer to his question. The laid back manner with which he stands does not match the harshness of his tone or wording. Usually, he calls you with some variation of little girl or baby girl or good girl. But when it's just girl, you know you've upset him.

"I- my phone died." You pick it up to prove it to him. "I'm sorry" you mumble.

“So what your saying is your lack of attention has caused me to wait on you.”  He scolds, his stare hardening.

While you feel bad, you’re starting to get frustrated. He's being hypocritical. It’s not like you did it on purpose. It was an accident and he’s being too harsh. “Well, I had to wait for you too. Like, nearly 3 hours.” You argue back, instantly regretting your stupid lack of impulse control.

"Excuse me," He challenges with a tight jaw. You know it's rhetorical and not meant to be answered. The best thing is to stay silent and continue to look down at your fingers.

For a moment too long he is quiet and motionless. Your eyes flick up to see what kind of response he is having, only to see him standing stiffly, his features tight as he assesses you unblinkingly. You're feeling dumb, knowing you've just put yourself in a bad position at the start of your weekend session with Tae.

You audibly whimper from nerves, wanting to undo some of the damage. "I'm sor-"

“Come here Y/n”. He interrupts, holding his hand out for you. From his demeanour, you know you're in trouble, but your not sure how yet. However, slightly apprehensively, you accept his outreached hand.

He opens the sauna door, holding it wide and gesturing for you to enter. You pause hesitantly unsure of where he is going with this.

"After making you wait so long for me, I would hate to interrupt you. Go back in. I'll even join you." Now it's his eerily pleasant tone that doesn't match his observable frustration and the slowly tightening grip on your wrist.

Lightly you shake your head, not wanting to say any variation of the word no. "I-it's okay, Sir. I was done."

"Go in." And now to your dismay, the chill of his voice and his body language match. He orders you into the sauna pointedly, his expression daring you to debate it further.

Swallowing heavily, you can't help the way his domineering tone is filling your stomach with butterflies. Even when he gets scary- especially when he gets scary- you find him so attractive. But you know you need to take this moment seriously, or risk getting yourself further into strife.

You nod, going back into the sauna, the warm wet heat swarming around you again quickly making your breath feel smothered. Sitting on one of the wooden benches, you get lower trying to get out of the rising heat. Sweat right away returning to your brow and neck.

After a few minutes, Taehyung comes in, having removed his clothes. He puts down a towel and sits alongside you, resting back with his arms up on either side, his eyes closed as he enjoys the warmth. You try to do the same. But even after a little while more, you're becoming more and more uncomfortable. You try to bear it as long as you can, but as another 10 minutes pass your head begins to thump, your eyes becoming unfocused.

"Okay." You say standing up with a wobble. "This was really nice. But I'm getting a little dizzy. I think I should go out."

"Sit down." He says without opening his eyes. You're looking through the glass door to the cool of the outside longingly. It's starting to hurt being in here, but you're sure Tae knows that.

"Please, Sir. I don't feel well." You try again to plead your point. Despite your discomfort, you still don't want to act on your own. Outrightly disobeying him would disregard everything that your relationship is built on.

"Do you really want to test me right now, little girl?" He says, his head rested back with a smirk.

"You're being unfair." You pout, lightly stomping your foot.

He chuckles, rolling his head forward. "The answer's yes apparently." He stands and your gaze drops to eye height looking at his collar bone. He steps towards you and you step back. And again. Pushing you to the other side of the room. Your legs come into contact with the bench and as he steps at you again, with nowhere left to go, you fall down onto the seat, coming face height with his lower stomach and crotch.

An embarrassed glow fans over your cheeks as you realize what your first impulse is. You stifle a giggle, biting your lip.

"Little Y/n, who's in charge here?"

Those words said in that deep tone have you momentarily forgetting how dehydrated and sick you feel. His voice sending a wave of shivers down your spine and up your neck.

"You are." You purr back, having to push your thighs together with a new kind of heat rushing through your stomach.

"And when I tell you to do something, you do it. Isn't that right?" His salacious words are accompanied by his hand curling around your jaw, his thumb resting on your lips pressing for entrance into your mouth. Instinctually, you open for him and suck his thumb, looking up at him with wide eyes. There's a small lustful smile on his face and in his eyes. But it's the way he licks and bites his lip that has another bolt of heat shooting through your core.

You nod to his question, sucking firmer, taking it deeper and rubbing your tongue along it. Emboldened by the ravenous look in his eye.

Taehyung removes his hand, it shoving your shoulder, making you crash back into the wall. He grabs your legs and roughly throws them onto the double-tiered bench, having you lay along it. Climbing on top of it, he pushes himself between your legs making you spread them wider to accommodate him. Right away you nearly melt feeling his hardening member.

"When I tell you to sit, you don't argue. Do you?" He leans over the top of you, his hand rested next to your head.

"No, Sir." You whisper back breathlessly, shaking your head.

He presses his hips down, rubbing himself between your legs, slipping effortlessly with how wet you already are. You buck upwards trying to encourage him to go further, trying to meet him that last little bit to get what your craving.

"And when I tell you to wait for my call, you make sure to wait patiently and be a good girl for me, don't you?"

"Yes," you pant.

He smirks, approving of your answers. His lips come to yours, licking over your bottom lip before his tongue enters your mouth. Slowly he sinks deep inside you, making you moan and whine.

"You don't need to ask Y/n. Cum as much as you want. But you don't move till I'm done."

A small excited smile fills your face, and you nod back. As far as punishments go, this one seems great. He's not denying you, and he said you can cum as much as you want, so he's not going to overstimulate you. At the moment, you can't see the downside.

Gradually he starts to move, and you bring your hips up to his to match his rhythm, groaning and moaning the whole time. It isn't long until Taehyungs skilled strokes have you exploding around him, giving you the ecstasy you sought after.

But as your high starts to fade, you again gain clarity and realization of your surroundings. You're no longer desperately working towards release and you can again feel the hot air going down your throat. The excess heat of Taehyungs skin on yours. The way your bodies slip along one another due to sweat, or the sweat dripping from Tae's body all over you. You're wet and sore and the longer he continues, even as he brings you to another orgasm, it feels tainted with the suffocation of the sweltering heat.

Taehyung can see it. The look of excitement you had, turning swiftly into one of worry and distress as your distraction faded. And he is revelling once again in how transparent your emotions are to him. Enjoying being able to see how you're suffering but still obeying him.

As he makes you cum for a third time, your body throbs in pleasure but your head thumps in pain. Your chest hurting and your breath short. Your eyes getting glassy. A sick feeling nudging at the back of your throat.

He keeps going, unrelenting for far too long. Keeping himself slow and steady, breaking to kiss and paw at you every now and then to draw it out even longer.

With a stolen glance at the clock on the wall, you can only estimate that he has been fucking you for at least 30 minutes. It's too much. You're so past your limit you can barely keep your eyes open or move. You want to ask him to stop, but you know his order not to move including asking if you could. And you are aware it wasn't a suggestion.

By the time Taehyung finally cums, you're completely spent, nearly unconscious. So much so that after taking a second to catch his own breath, he has to carry you out of the sauna.

As he lays you on the bench in the cool-down room, your body is shivering with dehydration. Any second now, you fear you're going to throw up. Or completely pass out.

But Taehyung doesn't care. He hates to wait on you and he knows he certainly made his point. His only care is that he makes sure you're not confused as to why your suffering right now. "The next time I tell you to wait for me, Y/n," He clarifies with a stern tone, tapping your face lightly to make sure your eyes are open, "I expect you to be actively waiting, and to come running the second I call. Am I understood?"

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Spoiling Dinner

So... been a while since I shared a slice of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings and Always, hasn’t it? A whole month in fact. Yikes! Don’t worry, I’m still working on it, just, ya know, chronic illness. I’ve been getting less spoons to work with these past few weeks. Don’t be surprised if the next clip takes another month to appear.

Anyhoo, onto the clip itself. I figure why not show off some more drama from Step 2? It was referenced in the Adrift snippet that Jamie chose their thirteenth summer to be the time to reveal the big deal Cliff offered her to Cove, so I figured why not give a peek at that? So here’s another slice of Step 2′s moment, Dinner.

As always, thank you to everyone who enjoys reading my work and giving me such lovely feedback, especially the game’s lovely creators @gb-patch. I can’t thank you all enough for encouraging me to keep working on this self-indulgent little fan project.

...

Despite the fact that Cove and Elizabeth had never been friends, and it was rare they even really got along, it was always interesting to see and hear about how Jamie interacted with her big sister. The relationship Jamie and Elizabeth had was always something he could never quite get a grasp on.

“I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have a sibling,” he admitted after a moment.

Jamie took some time to give serious thought to that statement. It was a tricky thing to explain to someone without a point of reference. A sibling relationship wasn’t anything like a parental one, and it wasn’t really like making friends with a kid who just happened to live in the same house either.

It was also hard for Jamie to want to touch on a topic that would bring the mood down. Still, Cove did remind her recently that he wanted to listen to her problems…

“It’s complicated,” Jamie eventually concluded. She took her time to choose her words with care as she focused her gaze on the tank again, though she didn’t really watch the fish this time. “I love Elizabeth, and when we were really little, we were best friends. Then she started making friends at school like Shiloh and, well… It’s just over time, I guess we just grew apart. She’s still a lot of fun to be around, but only when she wants to be there.” Her voice quieted a little. “But now, she barely feels like hanging out with me.”

Cove couldn’t think of how to respond right away as he grew aware of the melancholy that had settled over his best friend. He knew Jamie and Elizabeth didn’t spend all that much time together, but he hadn’t realized it was something that bothered Jamie. He took his time to consider what to say, pursing his lips as he tried to figure out the best way to help Jamie with something he never had to deal with before.

“Maybe you should talk to her about how you feel about it sometime,” Cove suggested, though with an uncertain note to his voice. He couldn’t even imagine how that talk might go. “If it’s really bothering you, I’m pretty sure Elizabeth would wanna know.”

Jamie considered that before shaking her head a little. “It’s fine. It’s not really that big a deal. Besides, I don’t think that’d really work.” She favored Cove with a bent smile. “I mean, this is Elizabeth we’re talking about here.”

Cove had to admit Jamie had a point there. Although not intentionally malicious, Elizabeth did have a tendency to overlook other peoples’ feelings when it came to doing what she wanted. “I guess you’re right about that.”

Jamie turned to face Cove properly as she strengthened her smile, feeling compelled to soften the awkward atmosphere she had created. “Don’t worry about it. Having a sibling is still pretty great anyway.” She playfully nudged him with her elbow. “And besides, I already have the most amazing best friend in the entire world by my side.”

Cove felt warmth fill his cheeks at that, and he nudged Jamie back softly in return with a shy smile of his own. “I feel the same way.”

Jamie relaxed a bit now that the mood had returned to something more jovial. “And in case you were wondering what it’s like to have two moms, it’s absolutely the best.”

Cove nodded. Even if Elizabeth could be a challenge to get along with at times, he had always known Noelani and Pamela to be friendly and encouraging, if a bit strict with their rules. The Leimomi family were overall probably the best neighbors he ever had, especially Jamie. “That’s… interesting. I think your family is cool.”

Jamie flashed Cove a grin, glad he agreed. It was impossible not to feel like she hit the jackpot when it came to the family that she ended up with. She couldn’t consider having better parents, or even a better sibling.

Of course, talking about parents brought Jamie’s mind back to the dinner she was going to have with Cove and his. Things were weird between the three of them in ways she didn’t know how to touch on.

The little surprise Cliff pulled at the beginning of summer had just made things even more strained. Things felt tense in a way that reminded Jamie of when Cove first moved to Sunset Bird.

That line of thought brought Jamie back to the first time she met Cliff and the deal he had offered her.

Jamie glanced at Cove out of the corner of her eye, noticing that he had gone back to looking at his fish. He probably never learned that ever happened. She doubted that Cliff ever mentioned it, and as for her…

It bothered her. The incident hung over her head for the past five years, popping up in her mind at awkward moments that left her feeling guilty despite the fact that she never took the twenty dollars Cliff had offered her.

When Jamie was little, she held the secret back from Cove for fear that he might decide not to be her friend anymore. He resented being pressured into becoming friends with Lizzie and Shiloh, so he never did. Granted, that was more because he just didn’t click with either of them than due to parental meddling, but still… In her eight-year-old mind, she was convinced that if Cove ever learned that Cliff wanted to pay her to be his friend, he would be so upset that he would never want to see her again.

That fear had disappeared over time as their relationship grew stronger, but that didn’t make the subject trouble her any less.

Jamie was keeping a secret from Cove - a big one. Usually, they told each other everything from silly jokes to their darkest thoughts. The only other thing she kept from him was just how deep her feelings were for him, and she already had a plan in motion for how she was going to tell him about that.

Much like with her crush, Jamie had sought out Lee’s advice about the incident with the twenty dollars. Her cousin had encouraged her to just tell Cove about it, if only because it bothered her for so long and wouldn’t stop haunting her.

Besides, Cove deserved to know that his dad did something like that behind his back. This incident with Kyra proved that Cliff was still pulling stunts like this, and not just on him.

Jamie knew that if the positions were reversed, she would want to know the truth about something as big as this, and as soon as possible.

It had been five years. They weren’t eight anymore. Telling Cove wouldn’t destroy their friendship.

She had to tell him.

Jamie placed her hands on the mattress to steady herself, drawing one back into her lap when she accidentally brushed it against Cove’s thigh. The unintended touch drew his gaze back to her - she could feel it even through her closed eyes. She took in a deep, steadying breath as she prepared herself.

The quiet that had settled between them was comfortable, Cove thought, finding it a sharp contrast to the uneasy atmosphere that had overtaken his home since the beginning of summer. Jamie’s presence made things easier on him - it always did.

That was why Cove didn’t expect to see Jamie looking so tense all of a sudden. He could tell that she was building herself up for something, but he couldn’t imagine what. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, her expression was solemn and tainted with nervousness.

“Cove,” Jamie said before pausing to wet her lips. “There’s something… I-I have something important to tell you. Something… something you’re not gonna like.”

The undercurrent of unease to the way Jamie spoke troubled Cove almost as much as what she said. He turned to give her his full attention, his knees bumping against hers in the process. “What is it?”

For a moment, Jamie could only stare into her best friend’s ocean blue eyes. Cove waited patiently for her to find her voice again, but the longer it took her, the greater the tension grew. She could see it in the way his brow furrowed and his lips curled down into a frown.

Please don’t get mad about this, Jamie thought desperately, feeling as though her stomach was tying itself in knots. She was already regretting her decision, but she had already said too much; she couldn’t just drop the topic as if it never happened. She had to take another deep breath to steady her nerves as they started to fray on her.

“It’s… um… it’s about way back when you moved here,” Jamie finally said, practically forcing the words out. “Before we met, I actually met your dad first and…” She started to falter as what she wanted to say started to fall apart in her mind, and she scrambled to right herself. “It was… your dad he… um, well…”

Jamie had to pause to gulp down another lungful of air, feeling as though there suddenly wasn’t enough around her.

Cove started bracing himself for whatever Jamie was struggling to tell him. The more she spoke, the more nervous she grew, and it was making him anxious as well, impressing upon him the seriousness of what she wanted to tell him.

Whatever this was, it was big, and he needed to be ready to deal with it.

“Your dad offered me twenty dollars to be friends with you.”

The words came out of Jamie in a rush then hung so heavily in the air between them that the already thick atmosphere turned suffocating.

Cove locked up. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. What Jamie told him made everything else disappear.

His dad… bribed Jamie to be his friend?

Jamie held her breath as she waited for Cove to respond. He sat still, so utterly still. He was no longer looking at her, but through her, as if she ceased to exist. His face, always so easy for her to read, was uncharacteristically devoid of expression.

Then Cove was moving. He said nothing as he rose from the bed before bolting from the room.

For a moment, Jamie froze up as well. Shock kept her rooted to the bed even after Cove disappeared around the corner.

This was… oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no!

Jamie tore after Cove once she could move again, panic giving her feet wings. “Cove!”

Cove didn’t hear Jamie. He didn’t even hear his parents as they bantered while setting the table, oblivious to what was happening. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears as he reached the living room.

For a moment, Cove could only stand there and glare at his father. His entire body was a tense coil, ready to spring. His hands faintly shook from how tightly he clenched them into fists at his sides.

Although Jamie caught up to Cove, she froze again just short of him. She didn’t need to see his face to know exactly what he was feeling - he was furious.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kyra asked as she finished setting down the last glass on the table. “When did you start running in the house?”

Cliff flashed Cove a wink as he wagged the spoons he carried at his son. “Are you that famished?”

The friendly banter didn’t register with Cove at all. There was room for nothing else inside his mind but the betrayal he felt towards his father that sent his entire body quaking with rage.

It had only just begun to hit Cliff and Kyra that something was wrong when Cove took a step forward.

“You paid Jamie to be friends with me?!” Cove shouted as he glared daggers straight into his father’s widening eyes.

Cliff froze, the spoons dropping from his hands onto the table with a clatter. He looked like a helpless deer caught in the headlights of a speeding semi.

Kyra recovered from the shock first, and rounded on her ex-husband. “Clifford!” she shouted as outrage overtook her as well. “Are you serious?!”

Out of reflex, Cliff turned his wide eyes to Kyra, blinking at her rapidly. “It was only one time!”

The blurted admission left Kyra reeling back, aghast.

Cliff raised his hands up in a defensive gesture, his eyes darting between his ex-wife and his son as they both stared him down. “I-it seemed like a good idea when it happened.”

As the shock waned, Kyra brought a hand over her eyes. Her jaw was set, her patience frayed, as anger slowly gave way to disappointment.

Cliff bowed his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost shrinking in on himself before their eyes. The fact that Kyra accepted that he would do something like this so easily was the most crushing part.

For all his anger, Cove had nothing else he could say to his father after his initial outburst. He could only stand there, fuming silently during his parents’ short exchange. The tension in his body was so strong it was painful, his eyebrows furrowed hard and his eyes trembling as he continued to glare at his father.

That was all Cliff had to say for himself? That he ‘only’ did it once? That it ‘seemed like a good idea’? What part of this could be considered ‘good’ at all?!

Jamie could only watch helplessly from the sidelines at the disaster she had created. She had been afraid that Cove might be angry or hurt to hear about the deal his dad offered to her, but he took it far worse than she ever imagined. That wasn’t even going into how badly Kyra or Cliff were feeling about it all.

Jamie felt so bad for Cove. She wished for the power to rewind time to five minutes ago so that she could choose to just keep her big mouth shut. Having a stupid secret about something she didn’t even agree to hanging over her head was nothing compared to the pain that she had inflicted on her best friend and his family.

Everything was horrible, and it was all her fault.

[othermainblog]

A (Not So) Quiet Morning

A/N: This really is the first fanfic I’ve written in years huh. I was feeling inspired because I desperately want more fluffy content between Kaeya and Crepus so I guess I’m making my own food at this point. Featuring some of my personal headcanons, see the bottom for more if you’re interested. Enjoy!

On a clear and pleasantly cool midmorning, while working on his newest painting in the study, Crepus Ragnvindr finds himself struck by an impulse.

It is a peaceful morning. Diluc has decided to visit Jean across the city, bringing that tortoise of his with him to go and visit hers. The servants have busied themselves elsewhere to give him the quiet atmosphere he desires while painting. And Kaeya, in an unprecedented move, has sought his company over Diluc’s.

Crepus is not ignorant to the importance of this moment. He is hyperaware of Kaeya’s presence in the room with him, where the boy has chosen a couch with a very tempting sunbeam on which to curl up with a book. Admittedly, it is wreaking havoc on his ability to concentrate on the scene he intends to paint, but there is no bitterness to accompany that fact.

Because Kaeya rarely seeks out Crepus’ company on his own, more often tagging along with Diluc when his brother seeks his attention. Crepus has worried that this indicates a lack of trust in him, but he has been unsure on how to address the problem.

Today, that doesn’t seem to be an issue in the least.

Again, as it has done countless times this morning, Crepus finds his eyes sliding over to observe his newest son without his conscious desire. He finds himself wondering what is happening in Kaeya’s book; whatever the narrative turn, it must be one that Kaeya is enjoying, because when Crepus looks his way, he sees a subdued smile on his son’s face.

He can feel his own mouth curling in response — a reaction he is quite familiar with from his years spent raising Diluc. In this moment, despite his many regrets, Crepus Ragnvindr feels like the most fortunate man in Teyvat.

The sudden lack of sound must be more obvious than he realized, though. As Kaeya moves to turn to the next page, he glances up at Crepus. Something about his expression must startle Kaeya, because his eye goes wide, the smile becoming uncertain and small.

That won’t do at all, thinks Crepus.

Giving Kaeya as kind a smile as he can muster, Crepus heaves himself to his feet, taking a moment to wipe his hands on the damp cloth one of the servants has had the foresight to bring to the study before making themself scarce. Then he approaches the couch.

“May I sit with you, Kaeya?”

Kaeya looks a bit bemused at this point, but nods and lowers his book to his lap, marking his place with one thumb.

Crepus lowers himself carefully to sit next to Kaeya, rather on the other end like Kaeya undoubtedly expected him to. He keeps an eye on the other’s reaction — curious but not alarmed. Excellent.

Crepus settles, and then deliberately turns so that Kaeya has his full attention. He smiles. “That looks like a good book.”

Kaeya tilts his head a bit, then flips the book to show Crepus the cover. Clearly he has no concept of where this is going, but he seems willing to play along and find out. Crepus again is humbled by the trust in him that that shows.

“Ah, that is a good one. One of my favorites, when I was about your age. I remember how determined I was to finish it, the first time. More than that, I remember how tired I was the next day, after I stayed awake all night to finish it. I actually fell asleep during lessons! My tutors were not pleased. My hand still aches to this day, they made me write so many lines.” Crepus grins and playfully shakes his hand out for emphasis.

A shy little smile is his reward, hesitantly amused by this anecdote. It is, however, much too quick to fade away again.

It is as he is processing the disappointment of this that the impulse strikes. It is one he is not wholly unfamiliar with, being a father for a good many years now, but one that has until now only reared its mischievous head around Diluc.

Crepus has kept a certain small distance between himself and Kaeya in the time he has spent with him, not through his own desires, but out of fear of frightening the boy. Not to say that he has been able to to completely suppress the desire to tease Kaeya entirely; he considers it his divinely gifted right to do so as a parent. And so far, Kaeya has seemed surprised to be included, but not unhappily so. Crepus does not think it is wishful thinking to say that Kaeya has come to trust Crepus, not with today’s request to spend the morning with him instead of his best friend.

It is this last thought that decides it. Crepus allows that spirit of mischief to posses him fully.

“Come now. That won’t do, Kaeya.” Crepus injects some transparently false gravitas to his voice, to signal the game. He would never want his sons to seriously think he was disappointed in them for even a moment.

The ploy works. Kaeya sits up straighter, open curiosity on his face. He studies Crepus for a moment before coming to a decision and twisting his upper body to place the book on the side table. Then he turns back to look up at Crepus, hands relaxed on the knees of his crossed legs. Open body language, an acceptance of Crepus’ playful invitation.

Crepus feels his falsely somber expression melt at the edges. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he gives up the pretext.

“That wasn’t nearly enough. I think I need to see a bigger smile than that.”

Kaeya blinks as Crepus leans closer, lifting his hands with deliberate slowness, making it clear that he will stop if Kaeya wants him to. Kaeya does not stop him, and Crepus’ grin only widens.

“Fortunately, I have a good idea of what to do to fix this.” And Crepus proves the idea a good one indeed, as his fingers gently press into his son’s sides and wiggle.

The reaction is immediate: a jump, a surprised intake of breath, and two small hands placing themselves on his own. Crepus pauses, seeing if Kaeya will signal for him to stop, and feels warm as the signal doesn’t come. Kaeya’s hands do not push his away, and his nervous look is tinged with a playful excitement — an expression universally familiar to parents, he is sure. Crepus grins and attacks in earnest.

His hands move upwards, digging gently into ribs that are still a bit too prominent for Crepus’ tastes, and is rewarded with an exhale that shudders as it catches on a laugh. Kaeya squirms, curling away, mouth wavering into a smile, still not pushing Crepus’ hands away, and Crepus is so very fond of this boy.

It is the work of seconds to turn that exhale into a proper laugh, and Crepus is delighted to learn that his youngest son is, as it turns out, a giggler.

“Maha-! Ahaha! Master Crehehep-!” Kaeya wriggles into the arm of the couch, curling up and kicking his legs and not managing to get even one finger off of his ribs on his own.

Well, Crepus can certainly help him with that, at least.

Those fingers creep further up, worming their way under his arms to look for more giggles.

Kaeya squeaks, squeezing his arms to his sides as hard as he can and slipping against the arm of the couch until he is nearly on his back, legs coming up to again kick at nothing. It is a perfect opportunity to change targets, and one that Crepus has no problem taking advantage of. While one hand stays put, the other reaches to snag one little knee.

The reaction is a bit startling. Kaeya yelps and then bursts into the kind of laughter that can only be described as hysterical. For the first time, he manages to land a hit with the other foot, though without much force. Crepus pauses, startled, and when he looks at Kaeya he sees his son is just as surprised himself. Kaeya stares at him for a moment, eye wide, before giving a cutely nervous smile and shrinking down further into the couch.

After waiting for a signal that doesn’t come, Crepus smiles at the silent permission and slides his hand down to wrap around his calf. Holding his leg still, he brings the other hand, not back to the kneecap, as Kaeya undoubtedly expected, but behind the knee.

Evidently, this is spot is a winner as well, because Kaeya jerks and wheezes on his laughter, squirming and, after only a moment of this, letting out a snort.

Crepus can’t help but laugh at the way Kaeya freezes and slaps a hand over his mouth to contain any more, before another burst of laughter gets the better of him and he removes it to suck in more air.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, and Crepus would rather it end before it becomes unpleasant in truth. So he stops the gentle flutter under his son’s knee and releases his leg, watching in amusement as he immediately pulls it back to curl up in a little ball as he regains his breath.

Crepus allows him silence as he recovers, and eventually Kaeya gets enough breath back to uncurl and push himself upright again. He eyes his father from this new vantage point before asking.

“What was that for?”

“Ah, I’m afraid I had no other choice,” Crepus tells him solemnly. “It was vitally important that I hear you laugh today, and how else was I to do it? You never laugh at my jokes, after all.”

“Maybe you’re just not good at telling jokes,” Kaeya counters, and then freezes as he realizes his own daring.

Crepus only laughs again, reaching out to stroke displaced strands of blue out of his face. “In that case, it’s a good thing I have you around to practice on. I’ll be sure to improve my material with your valuable feedback.” His heart feels near to bursting at the way Kaeya relaxes and laughs softly again, leaning into the touch.

“I guess so.”

A/N: As with most people, I don’t think Kaeya as an adult and Kaeya as a child were exactly the same. Even putting aside the can of worms that is the whole Khaenri'ahn plant thing, getting adopted by a family in a totally foreign country is a lot for a kid to deal with. I imagine he was a little uncertain about his place at first. Of course, I also headcanon him as a bit of a little shit (but a cute one) so once he felt more settled I’m sure he could get a bit mouthy sometimes too haha.

I also headcanon Kaeya switched off between calling him “Master Crepus” and “Father” but this is set before he tried out “Father” for the first time, he’s working up to it.

[therealjordan23]

So, a recent question people have been asking me is whether Scrooge deserves to be called dad.

Fuck no.

Scrooge McDuck doesn't deserve an ounce of title "dad", especially when he's competing against characters like Drake, and more importantly, Donald. These 2 characters have proved to be more of a dad than Scrooge will ever be.

In the beginning of the series, we see Donald already taking on more responsibility as a parent than Della and Scrooge combined. Donald actively believed that their adventuring days have come to an end, as there is a brand new adventure waiting for them, which are Huey, Dewey, and Louie. When he caught wind of Della’s desire to go up into space, while 3 boys were on the way, he told her not to.

Scrooge clearly didn't understand how severe the situation was, he didn't have that parental instinct. He played the, 'fun uncle' role, and it never went beyond that, even though he was the guardian of Donald and Della from a young age, along with HDL. This is what tempted him to build the rocket in the first place.

You can be someone's "biological parent", but it doesn't necessarily mean that you're their "parent". Personally speaking, my dad wasn't around when I was a kid, and I never considered him to be my parent, until he stepped up and actively took on that role. And even in the show, that's Della’s whole arc! In Season 2, Louie doesn't consider her to be his "mom", until she stepped up to become a proper parent. More on this later, though.

Scrooge didn't actively do anything to earn the title, "dad", he truly didn't. And that's the difference between him and Della, she actually put in the effort.

This is why Beakley has earned the title of a parent.

This is why Donald has earned the title of a parent.

This is why Della herself, (even though I have made it clear multiple times that she's not my favourite, sorry Delly) has earned the title of a parent.

This is why Drake has earned the title of a parent.

Frank himself has made it clear several times that Donald is considered to be Huey, Dewey, and Louie's dad, even though he's not their biological father, but that's the point. It's through Donald's actions that we see that, "Okay, he's a dad, he's earned it."

Donald sacrificed so much to become a parent: he sacrificed a lavish life at a mansion so he could get away from the man who effectively took away their mother, he gave up what would've been his prime time to get his life going: if Donald and Della are canonically 36 in the series, and Della has been gone for 10 years by the time the pilot aired, it would mean Donald was at least 26 years old when he took the boys. Please note that it was confirmed that Donald's been living in the manor since he was at least 12-13 (I'm basing this off of seeing him in Last Christmas, I could be wrong).

So we have a fresh 26 year old, who has left his place of comfort and financial stability since he was 12 or 13. He has given up the lifestyle he was used to. And as if that doesn't sound bad on its own, he had 3 kids to raise, because he believes that their mother is dead.

26 shouldn't be when you scramble to find a home, find a job, and on top of that, raise 3 kids! 26 should be a time where you're just starting to figure things out, slowly easing into ideas like marriage, a full time job, and then maybe having kids. (These aren't my personal beliefs, I literally Googled what 26 year olds should be doing, and this came up)

**obviously I don't speak for everyone, there are certain factors that affect these 'common beliefs' at what you should be doing at a certain age**

Anyway. I have barely listed what Donald has done for these boys who haven't even been born yet. Donald has done so much more at the age of 26, than Scrooge has done in his 153 years. So, I can say with full confidence, he has earned the title Dad.

And then there's Scrooge.

It's truly insulting: when you see what truly makes a parent a parent, compared with the 30 seconds of Webby calling Scrooge dad? It completely brushes aside Donald's efforts of being a parent.

He didn't earn it. He never did anything to earn that title. @moonstoneflowers, @l-thefriendlyghost, and @dellyduck said it best: the overprotectiveness we see once it's revealed that he was Webby's 'father'? It's disgusting that he acted like that after he knew that Webby was his 'daughter'. He didn't care about Huey, Dewey, and Louie, or Della and Donald. He only did that because he felt obligated to be Webby's 'dad'.

"When you look at someone through rose-coloured glasses, all the red flags just look like flags."

—Wanda Pierce to BoJack Horseman

This quote totally applies to Scrooge. I mean, his name is literally Scrooge, he's designed to be a generally unlikable character and person. We see traits and toxic behavior that we brushed aside until now: when the show has ended, and we're forced to analyze it.

A great example of this is in Timephoon, where we can actively see where Scrooge and Della finally show their true colours. It's at the end, where the family is reunited, and Louie gives his half-ass apology.

Scrooge is completely okay with the fact that Louie almost destroyed space.

"I'm sure you've learned… something."

—Scrooge McDuck to Louie Duck in Timephoon!

You are the adult in the situation sir. I'm not even counting Launchpad as an adult here, he is a literal manchild. And even though Beakley is just as much to be blamed here, she spent the episode convincing Della to be a little stricter and discipline her kids better. She knew where to cross the line, and the only reason that Beakley agreed to forgive Louie was because she assumed Della wasn't taking it seriously.

"No… not this time."

—Della Duck to Louie Duck in Timephoon

I’ve had my problems with this, but even I can confidentally tell you that this marked the moment where Della Duck earned the title of a parent, while Scrooge was clearly about to forgive Louie for a literal crime he committed, and was really about to let Louie go off scot free.

And I personally find that alarming. If us adults didn't catch these red flags the second we watched the show itself, what about the kids? You know, the actual demographic it's aimed towards?

Another issue that I'm happy @moonstoneflowers brought up was the fact that Frank said Webby had to "earn" her place in the family?

i-

She is a child, sir. She shouldn't have that mindset at the age of 10-12. A person who should have to earn their place in the family is an adult like Della. She went out for a joyride in space, but she actively regretted that decision, and immediately sought out to fix things with her family and kids. She changed for the better.

Scrooge? He makes things so that they revolve around him, and makes it so that he doesn't have to change for anyone. He makes things work in his favour.

The sad part that @dellyduck brought up is that Donald, and let's be real, 99% of his problems exist because of Scrooge, is the one who has to deal with them! He isn't a fucking mop! He isn't here to clean up your shit! This man is the only functional parent, and Scrooge uses that to his advantage by shoving all of his problems onto Donald.

He didn't deserve his ending, goddammit. Scrooge McDuck will never be considered a father. He can be biologically related to Webby, sure, but please don't strip away what truly makes a parent a parent, and apply it to someone who has never made an effort to change to become a proper guardian.

[scriptaed]

his side, her side finale | 00:00

genre: angst/fluff/implied smut; 

pairing: reader x jungkook;

length: 4.6k;

synopsis: a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be.

No matter how infinite the pages could write itself, in the way that he catches her stealing glances from across the room or the scalding spark imprinted on her hand by the touch of his own, there really are only three versions to every story: his side, her side, and the truth’s side; and in your unsolicited albeit self-justified defense, the truth is, what was once seemingly perpetual is now merely trivial. The imagery that once had you kicking and screaming into your sheets at night, the fleeting moments that were shared by both but valued by one, and the inevitably incessant burden of jealousy brought upon by a fervent want that could never be had could only have been falsified by a break—spatially, temporally, and heartfully. The mind can only tug so much at one’s strings; and yet, to be bent, only time could prove possible.

...and that time is exactly what is needed by all.

her side;

“Are you joining us for dinner tonight, Y/N?” 

“Huh? What?” your ears perk at the sound of your friend’s call. 

“Oh, there she goes again,” your other friend interjects with the roll of her eyes. You almost collapse when she swings a hand over your shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to get your ears checked?”

“No, but I might have to get my eyes checked,” you joke, despite pulling in all the performance points you could win with a disdainful scan up and down her less than professional attire. Thankfully, your act is gleefully extended by her cheesy gawk of an expression. Putting up a merciful pair of hands in the air, you laugh, “hey, in all seriousness, it’s not my fault you guys keep drooling over boys.”

“Uhuh, so you’re trying to tell us that boy talk is what’s putting you to sleep?” your friend’s accomplice crosses her arms, raising an accusatory pair of brows. 

“Yeah,” you say much too seriously so you throw in an airy laugh, “I mean, there’s more to life than boys, y’know?”

“Right, like…?”

“Like…” your voice trails off because, for some reason, your mind goes blank as you attempt to recall your lifestyle from your previous hometown. “Like… hanging out with friends! With you guys!”

“Gah! You’re only able to say that because you have dozens of boys chasing you around the office. Us, on the other hand, time just… it just keeps ticking…” the two of them sigh in synchronization and you feel the heat of her arms retract as she shakes the hand of her one and only sympathizer. 

“Psh,” you can’t help but grin throughout the frown elicited by their vivacious performance, “you guys have plenty of time. Just enjoy life for now and I’m sure you’ll find someone along the way.” 

“Wait, but seriously,” her voice suddenly rises from her previously sullen state, as does her head on her friend’s shoulder. She looks you dead in the eye, and, honestly, you almost feel as though your privacy had just been invaded. “You really haven’t ever liked anyone before?” 

“Uh…” you scatter through the disarrayed files that were your buried memories, eyes squinting at the sun that peeks through the clearing sky after a day full of rainfall. “Elementary and middle school don’t really count… too busy studying in high school… college was full of fuck boys I couldn’t care less for… and at work…”

The more that you hear yourself ramble, the more the reality of your lonesome future settles into the already burdened shoulders of yours.

“At work? You mean here? Or do you mean your last job?”

“Well,” you frown, trying to recall every male colleague that had piqued even the tiniest of interest in you; and as the two of your friends lean in, you start to lean back, despite the charging light bulb that flickers from the unlocked recollection of two years ago. “There was a guy who liked me and told everyone at work that he liked me, which I thought was really weird… nice guy, kind of a nerd, but I didn’t like him that way. Who else? Uh, hm—”

—bzzz. 

The vibration against your back pocket pulls the plug from your train of thought. 

“Aw man,” you hear your friends curse in the background, “just when we were finally getting her to spill something.” 

The name on your screen has your heart skipping with delight.

 Yezi [5:20 PM] Hey, I know you’re gonna forget, so you before you do, we’re having dinner together tonight :) 

“It’s okay,” your friend pats the back of the other, “there’ll be some cute enough boys for her at tonight’s barbeque, I’m sure.”

“Ah shit,” you curse under your breath, hastily typing a response before peering up at your friends like a deer caught in the headlights, “actually, guys, turns out I already made plans with my friend from home. I’m sooo sorry.”

“Oh, really?” the two of them gasp. “Isn’t that a two hour train ride from here?” 

“Yeah, so I really got to go now,” your phone tumbles into your bag as you begin to widen your strides like a woman on a mission. 

They shake their heads in unison, “no, no, it’s okay!”

“I’m seriously so sorry guys,” you say as you pant, the distance between you and your friends widening by the second and forcing you to whirl around as you pace backwards. “I’ll make it up to you next time and do whatever you guys want, okay?”

“Really? Anything?”

“Yeah,” your hands draw a wide, inclusive circle into the air, “anything.” 

“Even a blind date?” 

“You know what? Why the hell not?” you chime, whirling back around with your back on them and a smile hidden away. Skipping off into the opposite direction toward the train station, you exclaim nonchalantly, “new year, new me!”

Lately, either through a stroke of luck or a reset of a life in a new town, there’s been something spectacularly whimsical about tonight’s air; and when a zephyr passes by, lifting you to the tip of your toes to an invincible high and relaying the confuzzled whispers of your friends—

“—wait, it’s not a new year, it’s already April—”

—you finally acquire a two year long-sought sensation: golden.

-

“I can’t believe you almost forgot about our plans!” 

“Hey, I had a reminder set on my phone just ten minutes after your reminder” you quip with pursed lips, “and I still made it on time, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Yezi prims with a stern look plastered across her face, gesturing, “with your hair and clothes damp in rain and your face smiling like a wagging, clueless beagle.”

“Well… beagles are cute, so I’ll take that as a compliment?” 

She frowns, ignoring your remark, “did you not check the weather forecast?”

“I did.”

“So why didn’t you bring an umbrella?”

“I forgot.”

“Ugh, you forget everything these days,” she plants a palm to her forehead before returning to her plate, “well, I’m glad that at least you’re so carefree nowadays. You’ve finally settled into your new workplace, huh? You look so happy now.”

“You talk—” it’s difficult to speak with food being stuffed into your mouth “—as if I lost a loved one.”

“Well,” she grits her teeth, as if biting her tongue, and proceeds to slice the slab of steak, “I wouldn’t say that’s too farfetched.” 

Frowning, your words come out muffled through puffed cheeks, “whaddya mean by dat?”

“You can’t tell me you forgot about what happened last time you were in town.”

“Uh…?” you furrow your brows, tracing into a forgotten yet familiar field you had long neglected for your own wellbeing. Last time you were in town, last time you were working here, last time you went out on a company party, last time you walked through this town’s treacherously embracing frosty breeze, last time you were dining here, last time you got wasted, not just here but anywhere, last time you shed tears… all the last times of this town shared only one similarity, a similarity you had subconsciously left behind at some point in your transition between the past and the now. 

“Do I really have to say it myself?” she leans in, concerned. “I don’t want you bawling your eyes out again…”

Did she possibly mean… him?

“Jeon Jungkook,” she blurts, “there! I said it!”

Her utensils clatter onto her plate as she tosses her hands in the air in mercy, almost as if bracing herself for the storm after the calm, observing you intently but warily; that supposed storm, however and ever so fortunately, never arrives. 

“Oh,” you utter, words slipping from your lips like sand through a palm, “I’m not crying.”

“You’re not crying,” she confirms, astonished. 

“It doesn’t… hurt anymore?” you almost ask yourself. 

“It doesn’t?”

“It doesn’t,” you utter, shaking your head. Just as she’s caught off guard, you lurch across the table to pinch her cheeks, “but that doesn’t mean I appreciate you bringing him up during a perfectly lovely night!” 

“Sho—” she furrows her brows in combination to her squished cheeks “—he doesh make you shad shtill?”

“Well, he doesn’t make me elated,” you finally release her from your wrath, returning to stare downward at your food, “but I guess it makes me reflect fondly on the past. It’s kind of like a scar. I know how much it once hurt but I can’t feel it to the same magnitude anymore. Actually, instead, the happy, jittery moments are more vivid to me than the tears that were shed. Is that… odd?”

“Like… like what? Examples?” 

Like when his arm bumped into yours for the first time on the walk after work, like when he discretely went out of his way to ensure your safety across the bridge home, like when he enamored over the ‘ripped abs’ of a fully nude female character design of an upcoming project whilst you stood awkwardly with a set of breasts in full display for the two of you, like when the two of you escaped to become the aloof, static noise of an unbefitting party, or like when he held you in his hands and kissed you at the stroke of midnight, the butterflies live on—even today—to shield you from the dampened blows struck by dull weapons of jealousy, insecurity, and remorse. 

With time, the silver lining finally showed itself like a sun shining through after a stormy night. You’ve finally accepted the truths behind every weapon. She was pretty. They were pretty. She never wronged you. They never wronged you. They deserved his love. His heart belonged to whomever he desired. 

He never badmouthed his peers and, as blunt of a man as he was, he never pointed out your flaws, even if that meant you would later return home only to find mascara flakes on your cheeks. He treated women like a gentleman, as contradictory as it may seem from his appetite demeanor; and while you fell for him for that, you also cursed him for that very reason. He didn’t owe you anything… up to a certain point until the lines were too blurred to decipher between the truth, the deserved, and the faulty. Be it Ji-eun or Jennie, you’ve come to terms with his relationships. 

As much as your relations with him seemed to run on a fragile thread of fate, your time had run out and the window of opportunity had been shut—but hey, at least you had fun.

“Are you… smiling?”

“Hm?” you look up to find her staring at you in concern. Blinking blankly, you quickly clear your throat and retract the smile you had subconsciously adorned. “I am?”

“I… don’t know if I should be worried or not,” Yezi downs another glass of iced water and you’re about to follow suit until she almost chokes on her water, “hey—isn’t that Jennie over there?” 

“Jennie?”

You almost curse at Yezi for teasing you over bygones that should’ve been left as just that, but she really wasn’t lying. You can’t believe your eyes when you whirl your head around to look through the darkened tint of the restaurant’s window panes. You might have never really spoken to Jennie, but that figure is undeniably Jennie. 

“What is she doing?” you squint, struggling to grasp a clear vision of her silhouette under the dim, orange street light beside her. You could only catch a hint of her side profile but those cheeks and unique sense of fashion definitely belonged to her; on the other hand, the constant stumbling and the hand to her head, almost as if she’s about to collapse at any second, did not resemble her. “Oh, oh, hold on, wait, whoa—we should help her!” 

You scramble to your feet and bolt out the door whilst Yezi takes care of your abrupt leave with the restaurant staff. A freezing blast of wind welcomes you as soon as you step into the sidewalk but you waste no time. Abandoning the cold behind you along with the past, your mind is set on aiding the collapsed woman on the streets. 

“Hey! Jennie, hey!” you call out to her as you sprint to her side, dropping to the floor without caring to notice the shards of glass that consequently cut your knees as you carefully roll her limp body onto its back and away from the sharp hazards. The pain has you wincing and seething under your breath, but the conditions of the person lying before you has you even more concerned. Her skin is even paler than usual. Her chest rises and falls rapidly in an evident struggle. Your taps against her shoulder gradually become frantic shakes until all you can hear is your voice and the whispering commotion of bystanders behind you. “Jennie! Can you hear me?!” 

“Y/N!” you turn around to find Yezi peering down at you from above. “What happened?”

“I don’t know but something’s definitely not right,” you say as calmly as you could, “call 911. I’ll call her family.”

“Got it,” Yezi nods, immediately dialing the numbers on her phone but pausing in the midst of the ring to face you, “wait, do you know anyone from her family?”

Gritting your teeth, you frown as you dig into your memories, “...no, I know she might have had a boyfriend back then, so he might know, but I don’t know if they’re still together and I don’t even know his number…”

“Do you know anyone who might know her boyfriend then?” 

“Well…” 

The ending trails of your voice are whisked away into the returning wind of that fateful night. Hands gripping at your phone and eyes staring at the stranger yet familiarity of a name that glares off the screen, it’s an inevitable force that has you stupefied yet marveled at the revival of a tugging string that ties you to him through the strangest, most meandering paths. 

-

his side;

It was almost like a fever dream. Her name plastered across his screen and his eyes squinting through the glaring light that illuminates his room. It had been two years since he had any contact nor mention of her; and now, out of the blue, in the midst of a nap after gym session, she calls him for help. He couldn’t believe his ears when he first heard her voice, believing it all to be another one of those numerous dreams that had him regretting his past or questioning his choices. He shot straight up in bed, phone grasped and glued to his ears that blocked out the computer fan that ran in the background. 

Even now, after throwing on a sweater and jacket and bolting out the door in a state of rescue, he can’t quite believe his eyes; because there she sits on the hospital bench, in the signature slumped boyish manner and the confused blank stare off into the distance that still has him quirking a smile in remembrance every once in a while. In her favorite white blouse and her only slack of black dress pants, it’s almost as if nothing had changed, almost as if she had never left. 

It’s almost like time had bent to his incessantly subconscious pleas and reversed its works; but the almost will always be an almost, for as long as those hallmark vivacious eyes and those rekindled mien of ambition lives. As far as Jungkook knew, she left with a dreary heart and returned with a fiery purpose. 

Despite all that, he can’t help but notice the way she fidgets in her seat, nearly sinking and avoiding all contact the second his presence had been noticed. Instead of the sheepish flickering stolen glances of the past, he finds himself at odds with the way she fights to return the locked gaze of his eyes. She fought so hard that she might have forgotten how to speak, rendering a soft chuckle from his lips because the girl he endlessly dreamt of might still live after all; and for the first time in a long while, Jungkook has to put forth the effort to fill in the silence. 

“Why did you call me?” he asks plainly as he stands before her.

“Well, I didn’t know any of her friends except you…” he watches as she fidgets with her hands, gaze falling to the floor before returning to him, “are you going to visit her? I think the doctor should be okay with it if you’re her close friend.”

“No, Kai will be here soon,” he explains, finally bending down and placing the bottle of rubbing alcohol beside her on the bench. “I have other shit to attend to.”

“Oh, right,” she mumbles. The evident surge in annoyance amuses him that he just can’t quite wipe the smirk off his face. Turning her head, she continues, “you must’ve had plans with Ji-eun tonight. Sorry for the trouble.”

This is it. This is the moment that replayed on repeat like a broken tape in his dreams. This is his chance to mend the wounds he had inflicted upon the confessing girl who cried her eyes out on the cab home that one, indelible night. 

An uncomfortable silence fills the air with the exception of the unscrewing of a plastic bottle and the gentle return of the bottle against the metallic bench, which is then followed by another staggering silence. 

“We’re not that close and I’m not dating Ji-eun now.” 

The girl turns with the quirk of a brow, especially when she spots him kneeling before her with a soaked cotton ball. “W-Wait what? Wait, shit, ow.”

“I don’t talk to Jennie as much as you think,” he states as a-matter-of-factly and continues to gently pat the cotton against the wounds on her knees. After hesitantly placing a band aid over the wound—something he had never done for anyone else nor for himself who just “sucked it up”—he finally lifts his gaze to interlock with hers, observing intently as if to soak the reality of it all in now before the inevitable tape begins to replay for the near future. “I broke up with Ji-eun before you left.” 

“And...” she utters slowly, “why are you telling me this?” 

Just like in the pool on that one night, her challenging eyes never budge and neither do his.

“I thought the past you would’ve liked to know,” he states. Head tilting to the side as if to get a better look, he remarks, “shit, you don’t look away anymore, huh?”

“Why would I?” she quips, snorting and finally breaking contact to stare off to the side. “It didn’t matter if I knew or not. It’s not like we were a thing.”

“Really?” Jungkook hums, gathering the scraps of cotton and paper before standing to his feet with a genuine soft sigh. It’s hard to brush off the two year old sinking sensation in his chest for something so nonchalant, but he manages to do it like he always does with that stoic look on his unreadable face. “Cause I thought we were.” 

“What?” she gapes and he only gazes firmly back at her. “Why? It’s not like I… liked you.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes flicker up at the ceiling for a brief second, lips pursing as he concludes the cards on the table: the unapologetic albeit risky truth or the defensive albeit purposeless self-deception. Unbeknownst to her, Jungkook had all the cards in his hands. 

“Yeah,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze and shrugging, “and it’s not like you liked me.” 

Peering down at her from above, the boy’s crooked grin gradually settles into the silence along with the usual unreadable mien that he wears on the daily. “How would you know?”

Finally turning to return his gaze, she raises a brow at him before uncrossing her arms and standing to her feet. One step, two steps until she stands before him as close as she could recall on that night, she utters the one mutual truth of the night. 

“Because you never told me.”

The brief silence filled with tension seems to last an eternity, yet neither of the two could take their eyes off the other. A rush of thrill intermixed with panic floods his blood. His fight or flight system screams at him to obey the very laws he had followed all these years but his mind warns him that change is a necessity for this euphoric heat that radiates from this very moment. He’s never quite felt like this before: throat knotting and heart leaping nearly out of his chest. 

“Let’s—”

“—I need to catch the last train home,” she blurts, quickly taking a step back to distance themselves. 

Like a magnetic force that she is to him, her retraction almost pulls the breath from his lungs along with it.

“What?” he frowns, trying to steady his breath. “It’s 10 right now. My last ride is at midnight.” 

“Yeah, well mine is at 11 and I still have to walk there,” she shrugs indifferently to the entire ordeal—something that Jungkook takes to the heart. 

“What?” he mutters, “the station is right next to this hospital.” 

“What can I say? I’m a slow walker,” she prims, bowing her head and waving her hand to bid farewell. “Thanks for the band aid and all the help today. It was nice catching up. See y—I mean, take care.” 

He stands there in silence, too stunned by the constant turn of events. Distracted by the crestfallen weight in his chest elicited by his shattered hopes, Jungkook raises a hand in response to her pressed, upcurved lips. He can only mumble a seemingly indifferent, “...see ya.”

There she goes—as gracefully as she had reentered his life and as fleeting as she had left for a second time. All this time he knew his side of the story: growingly regretful, discovering a yearning he never knew was within his capabilities, and helplessly pondering over a past he could not change and wondering if she did the same. At some point in time, those feelings became a fragment in time and that person he wished she knew became a version of his present self. He moved on, he forgot the magnitude of the pain, but he never quite came to terms with what it all could have been. 

And all at once, the very moment he stands before her, the past him whomst he had perceived to be temporary comes flooding back into reality—flesh, fervent, and feelings of an immensity he could never have been prepared for—and if he were to be honest, he thought it would have been the same for her. 

He never really knew her side, after all; but at the very least, he desires to hear it from her, herself. She never missed him, she never thought of him from time to time, she never woke up from a dream of him so vivid that it felt so real that she was left with a melancholic loneliness in the air—those words would close the gap in his chest. 

If there’s one thing Jungkook had absolute control over at this very moment, it’s the last chapter of their shared novel in time and this is not the conclusion he imagined. 

Before he knew it, Jungkook finds himself sprinting down the train station. Across the coldly lit hallways, up and down the stairs instead of the ‘shitty, slow escalators,’ and cutting through the nearing midnight breeze of the platforms until the breeze finally brought him to the last unvisited area, his daunting final destination. 

Checking his watch, Jungkook’s chest heaves as he holds his hands to his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. It’s well past 11 now, nearing midnight, and he’s standing at the platform in the opposite direction of her new hometown. To the mere bystander, this platform really didn’t make any sense; but to Jungkook and his inkling, perhaps by a disheveled and desperate state, every twist and turn of the wind brought him right where he believes he belongs. 

Puffs of his breath mark the airy night as he watches his last ride pass by the rails before him. Every cart, every seat, he scans them all. No one. His heart sinks with each check, each flicker of the eyes, and he begins to curse himself for his state of delusion until the last cart of the train flashes by to reveal his finale. 

And as if by some sort of invisible string, life had somehow led him to her once again.

Because there she sits, across the wide yet surely crossable gap of the railway, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap, as if she had been waiting for him all this time. 

Jungkook stands there, stupefied by the works of fate, “why are you—”

“—hey, Jungkook!” she calls out to him, voice echoing across the vast, empty station. “What were you going to tell me back at the hospital?” 

Taken aback by her question, Jungkook chuckles to himself in utter amusement; and as if by the magic sifting through the night, the nearby tower bells ring across the remaining distance between the two at the precise stroke of midnight.

“Let’s date!”

The boy’s zestful holler resembles more like that of a cheerful proclamation, for the way he holds his hands to his lips before throwing them freely into the air garners a giggle from his spectator. His voice projection accompanies the bells, perhaps too softly and thereby physically undetected, but she could hear him nonetheless. 

“I liked you and I still like you so damn much, you dumbass!” 

After witnessing the boy’s courageous display, the words she’s been waiting for but never knew she needed until their paths crossed once again for a limitless nth time slips from her like second nature, almost as if she’s practiced it in her dreams all this time. Her loud proclamation, however, slips beneath the bells like an accompaniment to a ceremonious work of fate. 

The two of them stand on opposite sides of the platform, their confessions are far and wide and perhaps inaudible, but the dorky smiles adorning their lips as they gaze across at their inevitable final chapters serve to prove an undeniable fact. 

Whether by sheer will or by this invisible string, whether by his side or her side, the truth is: their eternities will be forever tied, forever golden.

[disgruntledspacedad]

The Rules of Engagement (3/5)

The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do. 

words: 3.4k 

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.

a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg​, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.

You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.

It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.

For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week. 

You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.

It keeps your brain busy, too.

Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.

And then there’s Javi.

You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.

The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.

God, as if you could make it more awkward.

You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”

Asshole.

Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.

I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.

Yeah, right.

God, though, but you miss him.

You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.

So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.

Now, though, you’ve got no choice.

You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.

Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.

Until early this morning.

On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.

Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.

You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.

Bingo.

“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”

So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.

‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’

As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.

Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.

“Agent Peña.”

He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.

"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.

You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.

You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”

He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”

Oh, so that’s how it is, then?

“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”

He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”

Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”

Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”

He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.

God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent.  He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.

His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.

When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”

And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.

All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you.  Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.

Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.  

But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.

Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.

“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”

Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.

When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.

♠

Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.

“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.

You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.

Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.

You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.

The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.

It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.

This is legit.

You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.

“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”

Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.

You think it might be an apology.

“Let’s end this.”

♠

He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.

Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.

‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.

He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.

Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.

♠

You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.

One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.

From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.

Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.

By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.

Somebody will page you with news.

Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.

Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.

Everything will be okay.

You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.

“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”

You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.

A loud boom.

A whoosh of impossible heat.

A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.

Your body flying, flying through the air.

Bright blue sky, and then darkness.

♠

You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.

You blink hard.

It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.

It’s fucking ash.

The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.

Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.

You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.

Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.

Reality slams into you all at once.

Emilio!

You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.

Oh god.

A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.

You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.

“Emilio! Emilio!”

Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.

You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.

You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.

Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.

The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.

Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.

A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.

♠

You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.

Seconds?

Minutes?

The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.

Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.

Now what?

You take a shaking breath and think.

Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.

Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.

There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.

You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.

It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  7.2

Author’s Note:  This is the longest chapter so far!! *ehe*  Can’t wait for all the comments on this one....

Xiao eyed the three Fatui agents that were in charge of escorting the two of you to Dottore's arena the next day.  You found it rather odd that Childe and Dottore didn't accompany them this time, but didn't question it until they sought to bring only you with them.

Is this a chance for Xiao to escape?  Your gaze flit to the yaksha behind you as the agents bound your wrists with metal cuffs.  Xiao seemed as confused as you were.  "Where are we going?" You asked in hopes that they'll take you far enough away to avoid Xiao's powers.  They didn't answer you and pushed you out of the hallway.

They stopped just short of the throne room, taking a right instead of heading for those giant unwelcoming doors.  When they opened the next door, you halted.  It seemed like it was meant for some sort of conference room, but lighting was a bit over-the-top with candle lights and such.  A delicious aroma rose steadily into the air from the exquisite food that sat on the table.

"You're an idiot if you think this will woo me," you snorted as the agents removed your cuffs and left the room.  "Let's skip the crap, Tartaglia, and tell me what the hell you think you're doing."

"Why so skeptical, ojou-chan?  I just thought you'd like something to eat."  Childe held a smug smirk that complimented the devious glint in his eyes.

"Uh, yeah no.  I'll be going back to my cell now."  You spun on your heel and grabbed the doorknob.

"If you insist, I could fetch Dottore and resume your testing for the day."  When your hand froze on the knob, his smile widened.  "That's what I thought.  Sit."

You sat as far away from him as physically possible, and it drew a light chuckle from his lips.  "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to check in with you."  Childe grabbed a fork with ease and began to dig into the meal.  "This kind of treatment could continue day after day if you chose to cooperate."

"Are you trying to butter me up with food?  Do you seriously not know me well enough to know this trick won't work on me?"

"I seem to recall that it worked if it was chocolate," a boyish glint sparkled in his eyes.

Your fist slammed on the table and your eyes began to glow from the agitation.  "If you're trying to pull that 'shark week' stunt again, I swear I will--"

"--'Impale me?'  Were those the words you were looking for?"

"Okay, if there is no point to this conversation other than to infuriate me, I'm leaving."

"Have you thought of what I said, ojou-chan?"  When you raised an unamused brow, he continued.  "You can make a life for yourself here.  I'm sure with your...unique abilities, you'd be able to climb the ranks and might even rise to harbinger status."

"I have no interest in becoming a harbinger."

"The point being, you could choose whatever path you want if you joined us."

"The last time I checked, the Childe I knew enjoyed watching me suffer.  Why is he going out of his way to recruit me?"

"I think it'd be much easier on all of us if you joined our ranks.  Besides, at least with us, you could find something greater in life than..."

"Than chasing the love of a yaksha? Is that what you were going to say?"  Your glare was as cold as ice.  "I have no interest in this conversation."

"Listen to you; you're beginning to sound just like him," he retorted.  "Hold off on your retorts for a moment, ojou-chan." He placed his utensils down.  "Tell me, what would your plans be if you escaped with him?"

"Like I would tell you," you sneered.

"You've just proved my point.  I can see right through you; you don't have any."  Childe leaned forward and set his chin on his hand.  He held a smile that was somewhere between teasing and cruel.  You weren't intimidated and continued to hold his gaze.  "Ojou-chan, I'll be honest.  You'll die one way or another if you managed to escape, whether that be at the hands of the Fatui, or at the doing of the yaksha.  As a matter of fact, we wouldn't be the ones to kill you; you're the one killing yourself.  Death by a broken heart sounds more agonizing than what awaits you with us."

"You're not getting in my head."

"I'm not?  Then why, ojou-chan, does internal conflict arise on your face when you look at him?"

"Maybe because I'm having a conversation with him in my head."  

"You know what I think?  I think deep down, you know I'm right.  Part of you hates me for it, but the rest of you agrees with me.  With us, you could have anything you want if you can take it.  Be it fame, fear, glory, power, money.  Even love could grow within the ranks if you so desired it."

"Is this some sort of weird courting ritual?"  You bit back, but despite the hostility you portrayed to Childe, you were beginning to falter.  "I don't care for any of that stuff."

"But what you want most is love, no?  The yaksha can't give it to you; he's incapable of it.  You can't deny that much."  Childe refrained from grinning ear-to-ear as he watched the internal turmoil reach your expression.  You had hidden your hands under the table, haven't blinked in the past two minutes, and kept shifting in your seat.  Oh, how he's gotten under your skin.  He loved watching you squirm.  "Don't misunderstand me, ojou-chan. I'm not trying to insinuate love between us; that ship has sailed.  I'm simply looking out for your wellbeing."

You gripped the butter knife that was sitting next to your plate, flipping it over as you thought of the possibility of being able to one-shot him from here.  His lips curled upward slightly as if he knew what you were thinking.  Then, you placed the utensil back down and let out a long irritated sigh.  "Your words are falling on deaf ears, Tartaglia.  I'm going back to my cell now."

On the contrary, I think you've heard me loud and clear, ojou-chan.

............................................

The second you were shoved back into your cell, the tears began to fall.  Xiao watched you for a moment before gesturing for you to sit next to him, but you ignored him and sat in the far corner of the room.  You had glanced up at him once, noticing the tears that were also falling from his cheeks and thinking he was actually crying.  When you remembered it was just a side effect and that the tears manifested involuntarily, you reburied your face in your knees.

"Are you okay?"  Xiao sat so he was facing you, but didn't come any closer to the walls.  He hastily wiped your tears away from his face.  What a nuisance.  Can't emotions manifest themselves in a more convenient way?

"Just peachy," you sniffled without raising your head.  

As if I could ever join the Fatui! He's diluted for thinking something so stupid, for thinking I'm anything like him!  You wanted to scream and punch the wall from how frustrated you were.  How dare he try and twist me around like that!  The tears continued to spill and soak into your jeans as helplessness and hatred washed over you like the tide.  Xiao, why...?

The yaksha perked up when he heard you.  "What?"  

Why can't I be free of human emotions, just as you are?  Why must I be burdened with them?

...................................................

Two more days passed, but the two of you were never taken to the arena.  Apparently the Tsaritsa had other temporary plans that required the presence of the harbingers for the time being.  So, when the time finally came for you and Xiao to be escorted out of the cell once again, you were surprised to see what looked like rookie guards instead of the usual seasoned agents.

Their rookie-ness was primarily given away by the fumbling of the keys before the cell door unlocked.  Then it was painfully obvious that these three guards were idiots by the way they swung the door open enough that it effectively gave Xiao an opening out of the sealed box.  The two of you exchanged shocked glances before Xiao bolted through the door, his lance manifesting in time to pierce through the first guard and pin him to the opposing wall outside the hallway.  

It was an outright slaughter.

Before you even had the chance to get to your feet, the yaksha was already retracting his polearm from the third guard's torso that lay on the floor.  The heavy metallic stench of blood made your stomach riot and you averted your eyes to keep the nausea under control.

"A-Are we really doing this?  Are we really making our escape?"  Your hands were shaking from the adrenaline as well as an emotion you recognized to be fear.

Zhongli...was it really a coincidence that I heard you last night, and now the guard schedules are mixed up?  Xiao furrowed his brows as his eyes danced over the bloody corpses.  "Let's move."

"Okay..."  You carefully avoided slipping on the soaked floor and followed Xiao.  He was surprisingly familiar with the hallways considering he had been blindfolded whenever he was outside the cell.  "How do you know this place so well?"

"Sight is not the only thing we are gifted," he answered as he peeked down a corridor.  "This way."

Several Fatui agents and skirmishers turned the corner as if they had been intentionally sent.  There was no way they could have heard the ruckus from up here.  Xiao waved a hand over his face, and his mask manifested with ease.  A demonic aura emanated around him, visibly blackening the immediate area around his body.  The new sight sent a chill down your spine.  "Stay out of my way."

You followed his order and ran back the way you came, using the corner as cover.  He first burst into the cryo skirmisher, who was practically first in line for a quick death.  The polearm sliced across his torso, then Xiao shoved it through his heart.  The second the blade was ripped out of flesh, geo and pyro skirmishers surrounded him.

"LAMENT!"  Xiao leapt into the air and dove into the ground with his spear.  The shockwave of his anemo burst sent spears of air ricocheting into the skirmishers.  They struggled to their feet after the devastating blow, and more Fatui agents filtered into the hallway.  Xiao performed another series of plunging attacks until no one but him was moving.  He jerked his head to the side and his mask evaporated.  "Come."

You didn't have time to drool over how hot that was--"Ah, wait, Xiao.  That's the throne room up ahead--"

If my intuition is correct...The yaksha burst through the doors despite your warning.

"Xiao--! H-huh?"  You ran after him only to run into his back.  You peeked over his shoulder to see why he stopped in his tracks.  "What's going on?"

No one was in the throne room save for the most important players of this story.  The Tsaritsa, who was standing in front of her throne; Childe, her beloved war hammer; Signora and Scaramouche, who stood off to the side as mere observers; Zhongli, with his arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury; and Aether, who held a firm look of determination.  The atmosphere was tense, even as they all turned their heads to the sound of the doors crashing open.

"I've massacred every last one of your agents," Xiao seethed at the cryo archon as the two of you approached the group.  "Our suffering is no longer."

"Xiao," Zhongli nodded, relief washing over him when he confirmed the two of you were okay.

"Thank the archons," Aether ran over and hugged you.  "I'm sorry we took so long."  He hid his surprise at how thin you were.

"You were saying, Morax?"  The Tsaritsa refocused everyone's attention, and you and Xiao stood at Zhongli's side.  The room seemed to inhabit a colder atmosphere than the first time you visited.  She could've cared less that you and Xiao killed her men.

"You've broken our contract," the archon clenched his jaw, but remained as composed as ever.  "Thou shall not interfere with Liyue or the adepti."

The Tsaritsa's gaze flicked to the two of you.  "Oh, is that so?  I told you I'd do anything necessary to accomplish my goal."

"Those who break the contract will suffer the wrath of the rock.  We have every nation on our side; the people of Teyvat are more than willing to wage war against you for your trespasses if you refuse to return the two of them."

"You think that's going to intimidate me?" The Tsaritsa let out a frigid chuckle at the thought.  "Oh, Morax.  You really are more brawn than brains.  Alright, I will return the yaksha to you."  She nudged her head at Xiao.

"And her."  Zhongli pointed to you.

"Ha!"  Another full laugh arose from the archon's lips.  "Have you already forgotten the terms of your own contract?  Liyue and adepti alone are to be untouched.  She is neither."

"You can't do that!"  Aether shouted, grabbing the hilt of his sword.

"Then I'm afraid we'll have to wage war because of your refusal."  Zhongli hardened his gaze as he continued to stare at the Tsaritsa.  You peered up at him only to realize that he was completely serious.

He wants to wage a world war for my sake?  You sent a nervous glance to Xiao, and he didn't appear to have a problem with his superior's proposition.  Neither did Aether.  Your wavering eyes came to a rest on an amused Childe, who stood across from you.  But...this bloodshed...would be my fault...

"Relax, Morax.  Her test trials are already over; we have what we need."  Your eyes lifted to the Tsaritsa.  "She won't be put through such harsh treatment again."

"Then why do you want to keep her?  Just let her go!"  Aether continued to glare daggers.  To watch his friend be taken away by a god just as Lumine had...he never wanted to feel the same pain again.  The walls appeared to close in on him as he watched the same events repeat before his very eyes.

"She'll be an excellent addition to our ranks.  I seek to recruit her; she will aid us in commencing trials for the hosts of the adeptal enhancements."  Xiao shifted so that you were mostly hidden behind him.  "She will be treated with great care as long as she cooperates."

"She will be part of no such thing," Xiao and Zhongli jinxed one another.

You couldn't pull your gaze away from Childe; it was like the two of you came to some sort of weird understanding of one another in this moment.  You were right, your eyes widened at him.  This bloodshed for my sake...I can't let them go through with this.

"You can't fight without your gnosis, Morax.  Your threats do not concern me."

I told you, ojou-chan.  Out there, you cannot live, the harbinger seemed to say with his eyes.

We'll be on the run if we took off right now.  We'll be hiding every day for the rest of our lives.  If the war actually happens instead of an escape, all these people will die for one measly girl.  Their blood will be on my hands, on Xiao's hands--And then there's the matter of my unrequited feelings...I can't deal with any of this--The world seemed to spin around you, and you grimaced at the feeling.

"So be it," Zhongli materialized his polearm.  Aether drew his sword.

Xiao tensed when he felt your despair and dread flow through him.  He glanced over his shoulder to gage your wellbeing and was still just as confused as he tried to pinpoint your thoughts.  

I can't...You gaze rose to meet your protector.  For both our sakes...

Childe's grin widened when you stepped forward.  "Stop this!"  Your high-pitched cry interrupted the rising arguments between Aether, Zhongli, and the Tsaritsa.  "All of you, stop!"  When all eyes turned to you, you took a deep breath to stop the tears from forming.  "I'll do it."

"WHAT?!"

"If she's willing to stay, your war is pointless," a thin smile spread across the cryo archon's lips.  Then she addressed you directly.  "A wise choice, young lady.  You will be treated well now that you are choosing to participate."

You spun around when Xiao gripped your upper arm.  "What do you think you're doing?"  His voice was hushed, but there was something fierce both in his gaze and his grip on you.  "There's no need to--"

Your arm left his grip, and you addressed Zhongli and Aether.  "I can't let you guys wage war on my behalf whether it's a bluff or not.  Whatever the outcome would be, it would end in thousands of pointless deaths.  I can't let you guys do this."

"But they'll kill you!"  Aether shook your shoulders, desperate to prevent another incident like his sister's.  "Don't you understand what's happening?!  You'll--"

"I'll be just fine on my own," you gave him a half-smile.  "It's not like I'll be able to live peacefully if I escaped anyway.  They'd always be on our tail.  We'd never escape the danger of the Fatui."  Xiao glared at Childe when he heard the regurgitation of the harbinger's words.

"...Are you sure you want this?"  Zhongli observed you carefully.  "Once you join the Fatui, there will be no escape."

"If it's to protect everyone, if it's to protect the three of you, I'm sure."  You weren't aware of the tears that stained your face.  You then turned your attention to Xiao, who stood back.  "Listen, I-"

"I don't agree with this," he said plainly.  "I told you there was no need to sacrifice yourself for anyone's sake.  I told you to trust in us."

"Xiao."  You threw your arms around him, feeling him flinch under your sudden touch before hesitantly placing his hands at your sides.  I can't stand around and let innocents get hurt, just as you can't do the same.  His eyes widened as he quietly listened to your prayer.  You pulled away slightly and brushed his bangs out of his face, hand cupping his cheek.  A few of your tears were falling from his eyes as he looked into yours.  You brought your forehead to his, intent on holding him for as long as he'd let you.  You may never understand this, and that's okay, but I love you.

Xiao's breath caught in his throat and his grip around you tightened.  His eyes wavered immensely, releasing more tears as he replayed your prayer in his mind.  Only, a couple of those tears didn't belong to you; they were his own.  "What're you..."

"Heh, you have no idea how hard it was to say that," you forced a laugh as more tears dripped down your cheeks, and you tore away from him completely.

Aether watched the two of you with utter confusion, while Zhongli observed you intently.  It appears she has admitted her feelings.  Xiao, will you follow suite?  His gaze flicked expectantly  to the yaksha, who was more than distraught and traumatized by the entire situation.

You didn't wait nor expect a reply.  "I will aid you," you spun around and addressed the Tsaritsa, "but it will be under my terms.  These three are to stay out of whatever you're scheming.  Not a single hair on the tops of their heads is to be harmed."

"You have my word." The Tsaritsa thought it was adorable at how hard-headed you were.  It reminded her of Childe, and also that of an ant.  Such a small insignificant being that thought it held a significant place in this world.  Absolutely adorable.

"You guys should leave," you lowered your voice as you turned back to the trio of your apparently-not-needed rescuers.  "I'm sorry I've caused you all this trouble.  Please know traveling with you three meant the world to me."  The tears continued to fall even though you failed to acknowledge their presence.

"You're serious about this," Aether bit his lip to prevent himself from crying.  "But your Granny...the village...the Lantern Rite--"

"I'll come back one day.  That's a promise," your eyes met Xiao's.  I swear to Rex Lapis, I will return.

The Tsaritsa watched you return to her after seeing your friends off.  A disturbing smile spread across her lips as you forced yourself to kneel at her feet.  "I believe you've earned this back."  She held her hand out to reveal your vision, to which you slowly took it into your hands and stared at it with vacant eyes.

You felt nothing as you attached it to your belt loop.

[bbugyu]

daddy’s little monster + lee seokmin & yoon jeonghan

the story of your side hustle, that both pays well and had some very lovely benefits.

prelude | part one | part two | part three | epilogue

wc.5195 | SMUT, like DIRTY SMUT, threesome, sugar daddy!jeonghan and musician!seokmin, aka my worst nightmare, hard dom vs service sub vs service dom, aka my other worst nightmare, fem reader, daddy kink, marking, cream pie, please use condoms, lk cucking? happy halloween!

i was gonna say this is porn without plot but in reality idk how to not make smut way too personal. and i have not stopped thinking about my seokhan sandwicch fantasies and desperately needed to get it out, so take my shame and run with it. gif literally does not match this at all but DONT WORRY ABOUT IT

~

seokmin knew that jeonghan, the prolific and sought after architect whom he considered a close friend, had a less than conventional relationship with a young woman, but he had never met her. didn't know what the two did beyond appear at fancy industry dinner parties together, or the occasional sleepovers that had been offhandedly mentioned when seokmin and him get drinks and grilled meat. he believed she was real - he had been told she was real, by a mutual friend who had attended said parties - but had never seen a picture of her. never been introduced. he dropped architecture, afterall, deciding instead to get a teaching degree while jeonghan continued his artistic engineering. he had no reason to attend the parties that jeonghan paid her to accompany him to.

so when he was slightly drunk at a halloween party being held at the architect's beautiful home, he thought nothing about the pretty girl giving him attention, other than the fact that she looked incredible in her cheerleading outfit and that she was sitting far too close to him to not be flirting.

"how do you know jeonghan?" you asked, perched on the sofa next to seokmin, fingers mindlessly fiddling with the zipper on his red and blue bomber jacket.

his arm was over the back of the sofa, and you were comfortably sitting in the negative space, your feet tucked beneath your baby blue pleated skirt. "we went to college together," he said.

your eyebrow quirked. "are you also an architect? i've never seen you around."

he smiled and shook his head, wondering why a pretty girl like you was wasting your time getting to know a guy like him if you frequented industry parties. "no, i dropped the program. too much math. i'm a music teacher."

he watched your eyes light up. "what kind of music?"

"piano and guitar, mostly," he said, shifting beside you when your knees brushed over his thigh. "i do some vocal coaching, also."

you gazed at his profile as he looked anywhere but at you, eyes briefly focusing on the little black heart drawn under his eye. "you do have a lovely voice."

"thanks," he said, smiling when he turned to look at you, almost faltering when he realized you were leaning into him. "but you haven't heard me sing."

you paused, staring at his lips. "i'd like to," you breathed, and seokmin's hand dropped from the couch to find the small of your back, a shiver running up your spine when his fingers ran over the waistband of your skirt.

"y/n."

with great difficulty, you looked away from his lips to the source of your name being called, smiling lightly when you saw who had summoned you. you put a hand on seokmin's chest.

"i'll be right back, okay?" he kept watching your lips as you spoke. "promise me you won't go anywhere?"

seokmin gave you a lopsided smile, fingers brushing over your skin still. "promise."

you pulled yourself off the couch, purposefully giving him a bit of a view as you leaned over to slip your feet back into your sneakers, walking over to the man that had called your name. seokmin watched you swing your hips side to side, then cursed under his breath when jeonghan's hand snaked around your waist only a few meters in front of him, putting the pieces together in his mind.

"i see you like my friend," jeonghan muttered, handing you the drink you had asked him for. he was dressed as a man in black, which was wholly unoriginal considering he wore many suits regularly, but you figured your cheerleading costume wasn't leaving much more to the imagination than any of the dresses he usually picked out for you.

"you never told me you were friends with a musician," you teased. "afraid i wouldn't call you?"

he laughed, sneakily pulling up the hem of your skirt and watching over your shoulder as seokmin tried not to stare. "you'll always call me."

you bit at your lip, smiling. "yes, daddy."

"are you sure about him?"

you peeked over your shoulder, giggling when seokmin looked away from you and tugged at the knees of his black pleather pants. "isn't he perfect?"

"i like seokmin," jeonghan said, drawing your attention by taking off his sunglasses, hooking them in his lapel pocket. "he's one of my closest friends. i want you to be absolutely sure."

you paused, considering his tone and looking into his amber eyes. "i'm positive."

jeonghan smiled, pulling you into him for a quick kiss. "go tell him the good news, sweetheart."

you grinned, pulling away from him as he put his sunglasses back on and teasingly clicked his prop neuralizer at you. you giggled and sauntering back to the couch that seated the most adorable harley quinn you had ever seen.

"i'm back," you said, sipping at your drink as you settled back into seokmin's side. "sorry, you know how sugar daddies are. so demanding."

he choked out a laugh, still unsure despite your joking tone. "so, you and, uh, jeonghan-"

"yeah," you sighed, setting your drink down on the table beside the sofa and adjusting your posture, putting your knees on his thigh but keeping your shoes off the couch. "he likes my company, i like not paying for tuition."

"what are you studying?" seokmin asked, jumping at the opportunity to change the subject.

you smiled, tugging at his arm until he took the hint to put it back where it was before you were interrupted. "musical theory and recording arts."

he almost laughed. "you're unreal."

"i could say the same," you said, fingers fiddling with the opposite collar of his jacket. "can i ask you something? no pressure."

his eyebrows quirked upwards. "there's a little pressure."

you giggled, tugging at the collar lightly and smiling when he shifted to face you better. "genuinely, don't say yes just because i want you to, okay?" you only continued when he nodded, taking a deep breath. "so, jeonghan and i have been wanting to try something for a while, and he asked me to find someone tonight."

seokmin swallowed. "am i someone?"

you bit your lip. "yes."

his finger scratched at his cheek. "and he approves?"

your eyes flickered to where you and jeonghan had been standing, but the older was nowhere to be found. "yes."

"i-" he cleared his throat suddenly. "i just haven't- i don't know what i'm trying to say." he paused to collect himself. "i've never even considered doing anything like… that."

you giggled sweetly, and seokmin tried to not notice the way your hand ran over his chest. "i haven't done anything like this either," you assured him. "jeonghan's a little bossy, but he'll only be that way to me if you don't ask for it, i promise. and you don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with, seriously, we can stop whenever, i just-" you bit at your lip briefly. "i just really want to make you feel good."

despite you telling him to not just say yes just for your sake, he had a hard time saying no after hearing your dark tone. any idea of saying no slipped his mind completely when you kissed him, slow and deliberate, your tongue tasting like cola and whiskey against his. he even went as far as pulling you into his lap, forgetting the context of the party surrounding him, his only thoughts about the way your thighs split over his lap and how soft your skin felt when his hands ran under your skirt.

"is this a yes?" you asked breathlessly, trying not to grind down on his pleather covered thighs.

he nodded at you with blown out eyes. "i'll try anything with you."

you grinned, finger brushing over the purposefully smeared lipstick across his cheek. "you're so cute."

he smiled at you, a hand running up your side as you leaned into him again. "not all the time," he muttered, and you couldn't help but gasp lightly when he bounced his leg under you. "want me to prove it?"

you kissed him again, unable to form any words to say yes but desperately needing to. when a hand landed on the back of your neck, you moaned into his mouth and pulled away, trying to catch your breath.

seokmin's hand pulled you into him again, and you whimpered lightly against his lips. "we need to go."

his lips barely left yours when he asked "where to?" and your fingers intertwined with his as you stood, pulling him off the couch to follow you.

you spotted jeonghan in the next room, and despite not knowing for sure if he noticed you two, you spun around playfully and pulled seokmin into you again, letting him kiss you deeply with his hands exploring your bare waist before you pulled away again to continue leading him away, the lopsided grin on his face never leaving.

the noise of the party dissipated as you pulled him up a flight of stairs and down a hall, stopping a few times to kiss against banisters in areas of jeonghan's home he had never been in.

"is this-" seokmin stopped himself as you closed the bedroom door, looking around at the grand but minimally decorated room - the main focal point being the large canopy bed against the far wall.

"jeonghan's," you said, pulling seokmin into you and resuming your feverish kisses. "it's the only bedroom i'm allowed in."

he briefly wondered what other rules the two of you had, but all but forgot about them when you were pushing his jacket off his shoulders, hands running over his chest. you tried to catch your breath as seokmin's mouth worked its way down your neck, but you couldn't stop whining.

"fuck, do you work out?" you asked breathlessly as he backed you up against the door, your hands not so subtly gripping at a bicep.

he chuckled against your neck. "i tune pianos, sometimes."

you briefly thought about him moving an upright to access the strings, and how you had to recruit the help of three friends to move the one jeonghan had bought for you. "you should come to my place, i've been meaning to get mine tuned for a while."

"you can just say you want to see me again," he said, a teasing smile on his lips as he pulled you off the door.

"you're sure about this, right?" you asked between kisses. "he'll notice we're missing and come looking. i don't want you to be surprised."

seokmin considered the concept of jeonghan walking in on his friend between your thighs, laid out on his bed, and the way his length flinched in his pants assured you that it was the best idea he had heard in a while. "i'm sure, i promise."

you bit at your lip again as you grinned, letting him overtake you with kisses as the back of your legs hit the bed.

"this little skirt, i swear to god," seokmin groaned, large hands squeezing at your ass through the fabric.

you gasped, your open mouth making seokmin groan deeper as he pulled you against his tented crotch. "jeonghan picked it out."

"i can tell," he said, staring down at the supposed team name you were meant to be cheering for. "angel, huh? does he call you that?"

"sometimes," you breathed, lips nipping at his neck. "he calls me the name on your chest more, though."

seokmin chuckled, almost completely forgetting about his own costume that he had mostly only picked because the shirt was so easy to find. he brought your lips back to his, kissing you deeply before pushing you down onto the soft mattress. "i want you to get comfortable."

you nodded excitedly, kicking off your shoes and watching him unbuckle his belt as you backed yourself up against the pillows. he kneed his way onto the bed, pants unzipped and shirt discarded, but stopped his undressing to crawl towards you, hands running over your split thighs. you groaned, hips rolling towards him just at the sight of him between your legs, and he gazed up at you sweetly.

"you're soaking through your panties."

you took a heaving breath. "you're super hot."

his lips skated over your inner thigh, and you gripped at the duvet as you tried to stifle a moan. his hands went under your thighs, squeezing at your ass before hooking under your panties, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from whining as he slowly pulled them off you, your skirt falling over your waist when you lifted your hips for him.

"oh, baby, look at you," he cooed, tongue darting out between his lips as he took in the sight. "is that all for me?"

you moaned, rolling your hips off the mattress again, staring at his shoulders as he settled. "fuck, seokmin, please-"

your pleas were interrupted by your own garbled moan as he put his tongue against your inner thigh, biting down on the soft flesh. your hand found his scalp, gripping as he sucked a sweet red rose into your thigh, kissing it gently before moving to repeat the action a little closer to your core.

"oh, god, s-seokmin-" you whined, bucking your hips against him. he gently held your wily hips down as he continued until he was satisfied with the marks, hoping they would stay a while. remind you of him when he wasn't around. his breath hit your core and you keened, desperately asking for his lips, but he only barely teased his tongue over your clit before planting his lips on your other thigh, drawing a shaky moan from you as you gripped his hair.

"fuck, please," you begged, wishing you could move your hips more freely, but his strong grip on you held you in place.

when seokmin decided he was happy with the delicate roses between your legs, he looked up to you, observing the way your chest heaved and you panted, your eyes blown to all hell. your fingers tightened in his hair when he rolled out his tongue, slowly dragging it through your folds.

you moaned, your voice sounding choppy and desperate even to you as your neck stretched out in pleasure. "g-god!"

he hummed against you, his lips kissing at your clit and tongue running over you alternately. you shook as he lapped at you, and he pulled his hands out from under your ridden up skirt in order to push your thighs back, allowing him more comfortable access as you groaned, blue stained fingers leaving his hair to grip at the duvet.

"fuck, seokmin, i'm already so close-"

he hummed again, pulling away but putting two fingers over your core instead, spreading your arousal through your folds and over your clit as he licked his lips. "is my mouth that good to you?"

you arched your back as he continued running his fingers over you. "it's so good."

he lapped at you again, making you let out a high pitched whine as he slowly slipped his fingers into your sweet, tight hole. your eyes shut and you moaned, squeezing his fingers as your arousal seeped out from around them. "your pussy is so cute," he muttered, eyes darting up to your face as you panted. he slowly began to curl his lean, long, instrument trained fingers in your core, pulling more pleas from your lips. "i bet it's cuter when you cum."

"fuck, please," you begged. "please make me cum."

seokmin groaned lightly as he sucked at your clit, rolling his hips against the mattress to relieve some of the pressure he felt from your fingers digging against his scalp, your taste on his lips, your whining moans in his ears.

you noticed the sound of the door, almost processing the meaning before your pleasure interrupted your own thought. "fuck, baby, right there!"

he groaned, digging his fingers further into you to spur your squealing as he flicked his tongue against you, and you practically thrashed against him as you came undone, your thighs pushing into his shoulders as your back arched against the mattress.

you whined dully when he pulled his mouth away from you, your fingers loosening their grip in his spray dyed hair. he never pulled his fingers out of you, not even as he crawled slowly over you, continuing to gently curl into you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into your chest.

"you started without me," jeonghan said finally, and seokmin smiled into your neck as you watched your sugar daddy pull off his tie, still whining lightly at the fingers in your cunt. "that wasn't what we agreed on."

"i- ah-" you gasped, thigh pressing against seokmin's arm when his thumb pushed against your clit. "i couldn't wait," you said, hooded eyes watching jeonghan approach.

"found yourself a cute toy, huh?" he quirked his eyebrow at the younger, noticing the way his shoulders rippled under your desperate fingers as he stood at the end of the bed. "are you gonna treat him nice, sweetheart?"

you nodded quickly, fingers finding seokmin's scalp again as you kissed him, loving the way you tasted on his lips. you gasped when he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, his hand running up your waist to hold you stay as he rut his clothed bulge into you, the feeling of cool pleather against your hot core making you moan against him.

"what do you want to do, sweetheart?" jeonghan prompted you, gently leaning against a bedpost as he adjusted himself in his pants

"i wanna ride," you said, breath fanning over seokmin's face as he blushed slightly. his red ears just made you move your hips again desperately. "fuck, seokmin, i need to ride you."

his movements stopped for a second, mind whirling with the idea of you bouncing on him. his thoughts were only interrupted by a voice.

"you heard her, seokmin."

he snapped into action, kissing you again as he shoved his slightly too tight pants down his hips, and you pushed him until he allowed you to roll him into his back. you tugged his pants down his legs, gulping at the bulge in his underwear.

"jesus, seokmin, you never said you were packing," jeonghan chuckled, observing the way you faltered when you noticed his length.

seokmin sucked in a labored breath when you ran your hands over his hips, teasing a thumb over his erection. "you never asked."

you tugged his underwear down over his hips, taking care to pull him gently out to avoid harm. you rolled your tongue out to draw a wet line up the underside of his heavy cock, enjoying the way it flinched up against you. 

"he likes tits," jeonghan said, shrugging off his blazer and walking to the side of the bed to toss it onto a chair. "lose the top, angel."

you smirked up at seokmin, suddenly extremely happy that the only one that interested you at this party was someone jeonghan knew. you slinked up his body to straddle his lap, the hem of your skirt teasing the head of his cock as it peeked out from under it. you kissed him first, and his hands ran up your thighs as he bucked his hips up to meet your bare core, but you hovered just out of reach. you sat up again, pulling the cheer top over your head and tossing it to the side.

seokmin groaned, hands finding your waist and running up your sides to squeeze gently at your breasts with his thumbs. "fuck, you're gorgeous."

"and you're huge," you said, finally grinding down against his length, pulling a deep groan from his chest. you backed up to stand his cock on end, pulling it against your stomach and practically choking when you saw how tall it stood, the tip far past the waistband of your skirt.

jeonghan whistled. "how are you gonna stuff all that in your tight little pussy, sweetheart?"

saliva gathered in your mouth at the thought. "like a good girl."

seokmin groaned again, hips bucking up to fuck into your hands. "stop teasing and take it, baby."

you got on your knees, positioning yourself over the head of his thick cock, and he practically bucked up into you when he felt your wetness at his tip. you gasped, sinking slowly, eyes watering slightly at the stretch and seokmin moaned, hands on your waist in support. you looked at jeonghan briefly, and he smiled, cock in hand, watching you as you sank slowly.

"stop," seokmin said, grip tightening on your waist. he panted as he held you in place, and you had an idea as to why he stopped you as you felt him pressing against your cervix. "i don't wanna hurt you."

his gentleness was a welcomed juxtaposition from jeonghan's usual intensity. you nodded, hands on his chest, then leaned forward to kiss him, gently fucking yourself on as much of his length as you could manage, readying yourself. his grip on your waist tightened, and he let out a beautiful whine when you dipped a little further onto him.

"careful," he breathed, and you sat up. your hands ran down his chest and over his stomach, then up your own body to gently coerce his fingers out of the deathgrip on your waist. he took the hint, running his hands up your torso and running his thumbs over your hardened nipples.

you groaned, your hips inching closer to his every time you bounced on his lap. it took everything in him to not take control, your pussy squeezing and pulling him further into you, the only sound in his ears your musical moans as you started to get desperate.

"fuck, you're so big," you said dumbly, unable to think of anything else. 

"you're so tight," seokmin said back. he hooked a thumb under your skirt, tugging it up to reveal how tightly your cunt hugged him. "fuck, you look so good filled up like that."

your hands found his thighs, leaning back as you rolled your hips over his. you choked out a moan, the angle nearly making you fold an instant. "d-daddy, can i cum?"

seokmin groaned and almost responded before jeonghan did. "go right ahead, angel. let him feel how good you are."

you sank down, your hips meeting seokmin's and a whining moan leaving you lips as he choked slightly. you fell forward onto his chest, giving him desperate, open mouthed kisses as you rolled your hips, your sensitive nub rubbing against his pelvis. you gasped, clutching at his hair as he pushed his hips up into yours, the coil in you snapping in you all while he muttered how good of a girl you were against your lips. his grip around you tightened as your grip around him did the same, the feeling of your tight cunt pulsating around him almost enough to get him off despite him steadying his hips as you shuddered on his chest.

"beautiful," jeonghan commented. "she looks good when you fuck her."

seokmin tried not to groan, but the involuntary movement of his hips triggered an unhidable moan from you. "never thought i'd enjoy being watched."

"i always knew you were a freak," the older said, continuing to pump himself. "you okay if i take a little control?"

seokmin finally looked over to his friend, eyes dropping to his cock as he gulped. "y-yeah."

"alright. sweetheart, time to get up. i want that skirt off."

you whined, grinding down on seokmin. he choked, and you dug your face into his neck.

"three..."

you whined again, louder this time, gripping a bicep as you took in a breath. "please, he feels so good-"

"two..."

you curled your toes in protest, and seokmin had the least control when you rolled your hips on his again, both of you letting out shaky moans. you heard your name as a warning, and you practically started crying from how badly you didn't want to remove yourself from him.

"y/n. one."

you caved finally, not wanting jeonghan to punish you in front of a guest, sitting yourself up suddenly and gasping at the feeling, seokmin's hands gripping your hips. you looked over to jeonghan, who had a smile on his face as he bit his lip gently.

"off, angel. you can have him again in a second."

you slowly pulled yourself off of seokmin's hard cock, and he had one hand keeping your skirt out of view, the other kneading reassuring circles in your thighs as you did. you both groaned when you managed to lift yourself off of him completely, and jeonghan watched your arousal drip from you onto seokmin's flushed cock.

"c'mere, sweetheart," jeonghan said, gesturing for you to come to the side of the bed where he stood.

you unzipped your skirt and let it fall to the mattress as you weakly kneed yourself over to him, thighs shaking. seokmin tucked one hand behind his head and wrapped the other around his cock, watching you intently as you came up to the eldest. he gripped your chin first, opening your mouth before him, and you rubbed your thighs together as you vocalised.

"embarrassed?" jeonghan asked, chuckling darkly when you nodded lightly. he spat in your mouth anyways. "don't let me make it to one next time."

you heard a groan behind you as you swallowed, then gasped when jeonghan's free hand found your ass, pulling you against him. he kissed you, and you had almost forgotten how his lips felt against yours, how his nimble tongue brushed against the back of your teeth in a way that made your knees wobble on the edge of the bed.

"i want him to ruin you," he muttered against your lips, grip tight on your jaw. "i want to see you fucked out on his fat cock, choking on my cum."

you nodded fervently, and felt the bed shift as seokmin sat up behind you. jeonghan smiled as he let you go, and you quickly backed up against the younger, gasping when his cock slipped between your thighs and his fingers pinched at your nipples, kneading your breasts tightly.

"fuck, she's incredible," he said, against your neck, and you couldn't help the sustained whine you let out. "i can't believe you never told me, han."

he chuckled, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. "i knew she'd like you too much. but you'll always call me, right, sweetheart?"

you whined again, watching as jeonghan gently kneed onto the bed, just to brush his lips against yours.

"answer me."

you quivered, grinding down on seokmin's cock and feeling his lips on your neck, but still focusing on the face before you. "yes, daddy."

he smiled, placing a gentle kiss on your nose before backing up again. "hands and knees. give us a minute, okay, minnie?"

the younger nodded, but groaned when you dropped forward, watching the way his cock fit snugly between your thighs. "tell me when."

you stared up at jeonghan as he put a hand on his cock, another in your hair, and slowly guided himself towards your lips. you puckered your lips to meet him, then opened your mouth and rolled out your tongue, lapping at the tip of his cock, tongue gliding under it as you desperately tried to suck him into your waiting mouth.

"oh sweetheart," he said, watching you with hooded lids. "you really want this, don't you?"

you whined, pushing back against seokmin, making his breath hitch. jeonghan finally pushed his hips forward, fucking once into your wet mouth, and you moaned on his cock as it hit the back of your throat. seokmin couldn't help but buck into your thighs, slightly desperate for friction as he watched you drip all over him. he tested his voice once, then quietly asked if he could finger you.

you moaned again, and jeonghan smiled as he fucked your mouth. "sounds like she wants it."

you let out a muffled whine when seokmin slotted two fingers into your pussy, your mouth too full to properly vocalise how good it felt. when he added another finger, you almost collapsed, and likely would have if jeonghan hadn't been holding you up by your hair.

"fuck her," he commanded, holding you on his cock and watching the way you looked up at him as you realized what that meant.

seokmin pulled his fingers out of you and placed himself at your entrance in their stead, sinking into you slowly. your eyes rolled back, drool dripping from either side of jeonghan's cock as seokmin filled you out.

"fuck," he said, gripping your hips and trying to stop himself from pushing all the way in. "fuck, you're so wet."

you let out another muffled noise, pushing back onto him as he choked. jeonghan watched the tears well up in your eyes, mouth stretched around his cock.

"angel," he paused, pulling from you slightly. "are we still green?"

you nodded, rolling your tongue around him to prove it. he smiled at you, then quietly told seokmin to fuck you full.

and he did. you whined and babbled, every thrust of seokmin's hips pushing you onto jeonghan's cock until he hit your throat. you didn't know how long it continued. you heard a honey voice you were familiar with, but you couldn't tell if the teasing words were directed towards you or the man behind you. you couldn't even register fully what was happening when you felt fingers circling your clit, and you wailed as you came, thighs quaking and throat full.

"oh, fuck, i'm gonna cum," seokmin said quickly. he gasped. "fuck, can i cum?"

jeonghan grinned, one eye closing more than the other as he huffed, feeling close to his own release. "fill her up."

seokmin jerked into you three more times before he steadied his hips and let out a deep, melodic groan, buried deep in you as his cum leaked out around his thick cock. you were still moaning, unsure if you could ever stop making noises, but quickly pulled yourself together as jeonghan came down your throat.

you choked once, but swallowed around him, and he gripped his fingers against your scalp as you did. when he finally removed himself from your mouth, you panted and collapsed onto the bed, unable to catch your breath with seokmin still hilt deep in you.

"what a perfect girl," jeonghan muttered, brushing his damp hair off his forehead, gazing down at you. "smart, funny, and an angel in bed. and you-" he said, smirking at seokmin when he finally lifted his head from your spine, even if it was only for a moment. "you surprised me. if you're down, i'd like to do this again."

he tried to catch his breath, but couldn't help the way his hips involuntarily pushed into yours, fucking his cum deeper into you. he just nodded against your spine as you moaned, feeling his cum drip down your thighs.

jeonghan tsked. "you got your hair dye all over my white sheets."

[outivv]

Boy do I have an angsty request for you :D So The Boys confess their love to their crush, but she asks them if they take her for a fool, because she believes that they're using her as a substitute for someone they couldn't have. Like Zhongli with Guizhong and Dainsleif with Lumine, etc. She doesn't believe they love her because she's been in a toxic relationship like that before, and it left her heartbroken. Just sum angst with maybe sum comfort. Also congrats on 801 followers! ＼(≧▽≦)／♡

Synopsis: it’a happened a few too many times, being used as a replacement. So when (idk insert a character from the tall boys group) confessed to her, she doesn’t believe it.

Warnings: angst, and mentions of a toxic relationship, I also made y/n a bit... bitchy(?) in the beginning of kaeyas part. Flat out I made them kinda rude.

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Characters: zhongli, Diluc, childe, kaeya, and Dainsleif

Pronouns for reader: she/ her (I assume that’s what you wanted... if not then I apologize)

A/n: I am in love with this request oh my god. Zhongli and guizhongs relationship pains me so much, like all of the fanart and headcanons for them it just ahhh. Makes me so sad. But aside from that, thank you for congratulating me it means a lot ☺️. It’s a lot of fun seeing how far I’ve come, and with that I hope you enjoy and take care of yourself! Remember to eat something if you haven’t and drink water you amazing human!!! <3

— zhongli —

Zhongli built up the courage to confess to you while stargazing one night. Only to have his hopes and dreams crushed. You though he was lying? He was using you? Why would he ever do such a thing to someone he admired and loved?

“I know your past relationship with guizhong... I’m not an idiot zhongli. I know that you’re going to use me to get over her.” You said coldly with a deadpan expression.

He didn’t understand... how could you think that he’d hold on for that long. He loved her once, but then... then he didn’t. It was hard to explain his feelings, but he knew that it was different with you. He didn’t know how to express that though.

Zhongli pondered for a second before saying, “I wouldn’t do such a thing even if I still loved her. I’ve moved on, and I want to be with you now. My words are true and are straight from the heart.” You still were hesitant though.

You wanted to be with zhongli, but were too scared to be. Past relationships made you have trust issues when it came to giving someone access to your feelings. Because you’d let them in only for them to move on from you weeks later. You were the recovery girl, the practice dummy, only there to get their confidence back.

Zhongli wouldn’t treat you like that though... would he? He could see the gears in your head turning with worry, so he cupped your face in his hands and said, “I would never say something I didn’t mean. Especially something as serious as this.” And kissed your forehead.

Butterflies formed in your stomach at the closeness, and you could feel yourself getting emotional. You hugged him tightly, and nodded, a way of saying that you trust him. He wouldn’t take your trust for granted.

— childe —

Childe wouldn’t like to admit it but he’s had few partners in the past. Being more focused on fatui work, and not wanting to hurt anyone. You had him wrapped around your finger though. He’s never felt this connected, and emotionally attached to someone. It took him a while to sort out his feelings but here he is, confessing to you.

As soon as the words left his mouth he felt a weight lift off of his shoulder, only to be replaced with a nauseous feeling growing in his stomach. “Childe... I know what happened with your last partner. I’m not going to be a replacement.” Replacement? Is that how you thought he viewed you...

Before he could think he said, “no! It’s not like that you’re way more than just a replacement! I haven’t spoken to them in ages, I don’t even know where they are now... how can I still be in love with them.” He made a valid point. You still were cautious though.

Not wanting to get your heart broken again you took baby steps. Your heart was fragile, and surrounded by walls to protect it. It took a lot to break down those walls, but maybe, just maybe could childe do it.

“I haven’t felt this attached to someone, I know that sounds stupid, or cliche, but that is truly how I feel.” He said pouring his heart out. He took your hands into his and looked into your eyes, his own bright blue ones full of love and honesty.

“I’ve loved you since I first saw you. I tried to get your attention many times, and now I finally have it, do you really think I’d lie about anything that I’m saying?” He said, his voice hushed, and his face painted with a smile.

You muttered a no, looking away from his intense gaze. “Well there you have it!” He shouted, a contrast to his previous attitude. “Do you believe me now?” He gently grabbed your chin to make you look at him. He smiled goofily waiting for an answer. How could you saw no to him when he looked so excited?

— kaeya —

Kaeya has been with many lovers in the past, none of them were serious relationships, he never quite found the right person. Until you.

It took a long time for kaeya to confess to you, afraid to get rejected, and break an amazing friendship he built up. His fear was proved to be correct when he confessed to you though. “Kaeya I know about your past lover. They wouldn’t shut up about you...” you said your arms crossed “I know that I’m just the rebound, they still talk about you after months, clearly they still like you. Why go for me when you can go back to them hm? You’d probably do it in a week anyways.”

Wow... he didn’t know you thought so... horribly of him. For once kaeya was speechless, he was so hurt that he couldn’t think straight. “I wouldn’t go back to them even if I was forced to. Why would you think that of me...” Kaeya said speaking the truth. He hated his most previous lover, they were a god awful person, so he left them.

“That’s what everyone does. They get with me, and then leave when they’ve regained their confidence and go get the girl that they originally wanted, or go back to their ex.. as simple as that.” You said coldly. You were treated like a doll to be tossed around, and mistreated until the person got what they wanted from you. You weren’t about to get your heart torn to shreds by someone you came to love.

Kaeya was shocked even more by your words. Were you really treated that way? He felt angry, and hurt all at the same time. He looked at you apologetically, and pulled you into a hug. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Ever. I wouldn’t take this long to confess to someone if I didn’t really care about them.” He said putting his hand on your head. You could feel tears pricking your eyes at his sudden show of affection. You’ve come to trust kaeya with your life, so his words meant something to you.

“Seriously it took me ages to do this.” He said with a chuckle, an attempt to lighten the mood a bit. You let out a laugh yourself, pulling away from his hug and rubbing your eyes. He truly did know how to put a smile on your face.

— Diluc —

Diluc contemplated his feelings for you for months. He didn’t want to get his own heart broken, and he never had been in a serious relationship with someone. He’s never wanted to be in a serious relationship with someone. He was the most sought after bachelor in all of mondstadt, and he had no interest in anyone. Until you.

He wanted to make sure what he was feeling was love, and not a... strong yearning to be your friend. Oddly enough he’s never had that feeling either.

He confessed to you one night, showing you a beautiful sight of the ocean from stormbearer point. He oddly loved the ocean, so he thought it was a perfect place to confess to you. Sadly you rejected him. His heart sank and he felt embarrassed.

Though he held his composure, and asked, “I... I see. May I ask... why?” He wanted at least some sort of explanation. He thought he was owed that at least? “Diluc. You’re the most sought after man in all of mondstadt, you could, or better yet would, leave me in a week.” You said bluntly.

He.. didn’t understand. He had paid no mind to any of the people who wanted him, and finally he had some sort of attraction to someone and they say he’d leave her in a moments notice? Why would he ever do that? “I’ve... I haven’t felt this way about anyone. Why would I leave you for someone I don’t even like?” Diluc said confused.

You looked at him sadly and coldly, “because you can.” You said shortly “you can, and then you’d be just like everyone else.” Everyone else? What did you mean everyone else?

Diluc walked closer to you, and put his hand on the back of your head saying, “I don’t know what you mean by everyone else, but I can assure you I’m not like them. I’ve never felt anything close to this until I met you.” His words were from the heart, and you could tell.

Diluc was a man to speak what was on his mind, and to speak the truth. Even he knows not to play with someone’s feelings. He wouldn’t go out of his way to cause someone pain, he’s too familiar with the feeling himself. He would only treat you with the utmost care, and you could relax and let your guard down around him.

— Dainsleif —

Dainsleif is a man who has seen many people in his lifetime, only truly growing romantically attached to you. He loved once in the past but... they turned out to be... on the wrong side.

Traveling with him for about a year made him trust you, as you trusted him. It also made him love you, as you hopefully loved him. He confessed one rainout night as you took shelter in a ruin in liyue.

He could feel his jaw drop and his heart sink when you said, “dain... I can’t... I don’t want you to leave me... I... I care about you. A lot. And I don’t want to lose you.” Your voice was shaky and sad. His heart broke hearing it.

“Why would you lose me? I want to stay with you, that’s why I’m saying this.” He said starting to get worried. You looked at the ground in front of you, snuggling into the blanket you had wrapped around your shoulders before saying, “that always leave... so I left for once. I left my hometown and started traveling with you...” your voice started to crack as tears started to form in your eyes. “I don’t want to go back there. I want to stay with you, and travel and...” you cut yourself off with your own sob.

You truly cared about dain, and you’ve grown rather attached to him. But you had an inkling feeling that he’d leave you like your past lovers. His heart broke for a second time that night, and he scooted closer to you wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, and kissing the top of your head.

“I wouldn’t leave you. Especially not when I’ve come this attached to you.” He said kissing the crown of your head once more. You have felt more at home traveling teyvat with Dainsleif than you have in the very twin that you grew up in.

[heyheyloki]

No One Important

Summary: You’ve been by Shigaraki’s side since you both were little, you knew everything about him as he did you. When you get arrested, you’re questioned with how deep the relationship between the two of you go.

Shigaraki Tomura x M!Reader

Word Count: 2405

The room was cold, dimly lit. It was your worse nightmare come true. The one time you weren’t careful, the one single time, and now you end up here. In the custody of the police who caught you red handed. You knew you were going to be sent to jail, and while you kept a cool head about it on the outside, on the inside you were freaking. You were never fond of the idea of jail, hell, you don’t know if anyone really is. But jail wasn’t why you started to grip your hands harder together. The simple and short reason just came down to a person, and that person was Shigaraki Tomura. The leader of the League of Villains that have set a seed of fear within Japan itself. 

Your body sat in a metal chair, your wrists cuffed to the metal table in front of you. Seriously, in times like these, you really wish you had Shigaraki’s decay quick. Sadly, yours won’t help get you out of this mess.

For some reason, you thought it would be hours before someone actually comes in to interrogate you. Although, when that single door opened, you were proved wrong. Another man, much older, walked in. His appearance itself was plan and had nothing noticeable about him, but you do remember his face since he was the officer that gave you a look that made you pissed off to your very core when they brought you in.

When he sat down, he just stared at you. You, staring back, held a look that the cop thought could only be held by a killer. It was dark, cold, and distant. One that surged with unbelievable darkness and would swallow anyone whole into an empty abyss if they looked long enough. 

“I don’t think I need to tell you that no matter what, you will be heading off to jail.” He started out saying, even his voice average. “But, if you work with me, we can make you an offer.”

You scowled. “And here I thought the cops don’t work with people like me.”

“Well, if you have information we need, we’ll work with anyone.” He explained.

“Fucking hypocrites,” you uttered under your breath. It seriously took everything in your power not to start grinding your teeth since you knew he would take it as a sign of fear when it actuality, you were just pissed off beyond belief.

The cop took a minute of silence, collecting his thoughts before he opened up a tan colored folder, the contents stock piled with stuff about the League of Villains. It held a few theories in there, witness statements from UA students during the attack, and a statement from Izuku Midoryia. You knew him since Shigaraki couldn’t ever shut up about how much he hates the damned brat. You didn’t care much for kids. 

“Your leader, Shigaraki Tomura, how long have you known him?” He asked. 

Your lips remained closed as you eyed down the cop. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t start talking unless he had something over your head, and jail didn’t seem to be something effective enough. Though, in your mind, you were ready to screw up their investigation. It was the perfect opportunity in the more imperfect situation.

“A few years.” You lied, your words stern as you use one of your best skills. 

The cop took a second to write that down on a new page in his folder, a page just for you. After all, you were the second more dangerous threat to them. First being Shigaraki. 

“He recruited you? Or did you seek him out?” He questioned, his voice a bit more lighter than before.

“He sought me out.” You confessed. “I just so happened to have skills that weren’t being put to use and he was there.”

The cop nodded, writing it down. You thought he would just ask another simple question, but before he did he pulled out a picture from his folder. It was of Izuku Midoriya. 

“Do you know him?”

“No.”

“Did you know Shigaraki was targeting him?”

“Not at all.”

You sat there, watching as the cop’s sights narrowed on your face. It was clear to you he knew something was wrong, but you seemed to genuine in not knowing much about the boy. You could tell it was messing with the cop which only made you to continue this game even more. 

“Alright then, so it seems Shigaraki Tomura was a private person. Would you say that as well?” He questioned.

You couldn’t help but stare at the man for a moment, your brain kicking back to the first time Tomura truly opened up to you. During that time you felt like you were going to explode, in truth, it made you the happiest man in the world to know you could do something like that for him. Especially when you both started to drift apart as he got older, closing himself off from everyone, including you. Seriously, it took everything in you to not to cry when it happened.

“Yeah, he is.” You stated, the first truthful thing you’ve said this entire time. 

“Alright then,” the cop started out, “did you have any part in the attack at UA High School?”

“Nah,” you hummed. “The boss made me stay at the base. I was not allowed to leave.”

“So, he’s controlling?”

“I guess,” you uttered as your mind left you. You could remember the look in his eyes when he told you to say behind. Normally, they were bloodshot and soaked in fear and hate. In that moment though, all you could saw was desire. Desire to keep you safe from whatever may happen while he went to go attack a well-known school. While he went to go kill All Might. He never confirmed anything to you until later in time when he confessed that he just wanted to keep you out of harms way. That he was more afraid of you getting captured by those bastard heroes than if it was him.

“I was more of an assist if needed, nothing more than a tool to use on smaller missions.” You tried to divert, making sure he didn’t see you pause. 

“I see, so, basically his personal assassin?” He asked. Noticeably getting more comfortable around you since his hands were now down on his lap instead on perched up on the table in a dominate manner.

“Yeah, I suppose I was.” You verified.

“Than I guess you wouldn’t happen to know Shigaraki Tomura’s true name?” The cop questioned, eyeing you down.

You let a faint chuckle leave your lips. “He wouldn’t tell anyone.”

While that may be true now, you just happened to know since you both grew up together. You were with him through everything and anything, promising to stick by his side to the bitter end. And you supposed, this was going to be the end on your side. Jail wasn’t exactly the kindest towards people like you. Sure, you could defend yourself? But for how long until something truly horrid happens to your in a place like that. 

“I see,” he uttered before digging through his folder once more. Quick to place a picture of Shigaraki on the table top in front of you. When you looked down at it you tired your best not to let even the most faint smile creep up on you, knowing that if you did, the cop would figure it out. 

He pointed to Shigaraki’s real hands before saying, “Do you know what that’s from? What does it mean to him?”

Around Shigaraki’s wrist was a burn mark, the size of your hand. In truth, he had a lot of them planted along his body, some intentional, some not. That one just happened to be an unintentional one that happened when you both were young and you had no control over your quirk. He used to always bother you when it came to those, but other time he started to pester you less. You thought he had just accepted the burn, but in truth, he just happened to grow fond of it. 

“Well, I mean, it’s a burn.” You said in a deadpanned tone. You didn’t know why he was asking such a question when it was obvious what it was.

“I know, but the hand print,” the cop started out by saying, “who’s hand print is it? Who caused that burn?”

“No one that I know of. It was probably during a fight he had before I ended up joining.” You were lying right through your teeth, and you would do it over and over again if it meant he was safe. Even at the cost of your own head. 

“Ah, I guess I just wasted my time with that one.” The man stated to himself before putting the picture away. In your mind, you truly wished he didn’t. 

The cop sighed. “Now, we don’t have much on you. But, I’d like to ask you a question anyway.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“I want to see if you know anyone named, uh, let’s see here,” he hummed as he flipped through his notes. “An [Name]? Does it ring any bells? Has Shigaraki ever mentioned it before?”

Oh, yeah, he has. Many times in many different ways. He loved the way your named flowed out, hell, he adored it so much he couldn’t even call you by your codename at times. He would just spit it out at the base, when you were both alone. You knew he struggled a bit when you both were out on a mission or in public, but he did try because he didn’t want you to get captured. It was odd to you how they got a hold of your true name, but that wouldn’t be a mystery for long.

“The boy who was attacked by Shigaraki, Midoriya, when your leader approached him at the mall a while back he mentioned his name several times. Has he ever said it around the base before? Is it one of the other members?” He revealed.

You knew Shigaraki had that habit. Part of you wanted to be mad, angry even for not telling you that happened, but you couldn’t even if you tried. 

“He has, but it’s not anyone at base. None of us know that guy.” You simply put. In the back of your head, even if you did rat yourself out, you knew they would use you as a bargaining chip with Shigaraki. That reason alone made your belief that all these bastards were sick and corrupt even stronger.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since you did say he was a private person.” The cop stated, his little act good until he said, “Except what he said doesn’t aline with your statement.”

“That so?” You questioned. You couldn’t break under pressure, it’s exactly what they want. You swore you would die before you ever let someone like this have the upper-hand in things. “What did he say than?”

The cop eyed you down, looking for even the smallest bit of sweat to graze your skin. When he didn’t see any, he complied with your request and read quote for quote, “When it comes down to it, I hate basically everything. But the Hero Killer pisses me off the most right now, hell, he even hurt [Name]. I don’t know if he’s native or just so cocky that he thinks he can get away with that.”

The man gazed up at you, wondering if your neutral expression changed at all. It didn’t. In that moment, you were willing to do anything to just have him continue, even mask your happiness.

“When another UA student showed up, Shigaraki made up the ruse that he was a fan of Midoryia after seeing him on TV during the Sport’s Festival. Since he had his hood on, no one could tell it was the leader of the League. Just as he was about to leave though he said,” the cop stated as he cleared his throat, “Oh, you were here with a friend? I didn’t know, sorry about that. I should probably get going too. [Name] will get mad if I don’t show up on time, he’s very picky like that.”

The man sighed as he closed the folder, moving it to the side a bit. He leaned back into his chair before huffing out, “We originally thought that name was just someone close to him, or maybe even just to throw us off our investigative course. But based on several of your statements and the burn marks, I’m starting to believe it’s someone a little more than just a person he trusts.”

“Is that so?” You questioned.

“It is. You stated before he was private, so perhaps you had no idea. But at the same time you stated that it was no one at your base, even though the Hero Killer was a member of the League and supposedly hurt [Name] in some kind of fight or a falling out.” The cop explained. “Now, if Shigaraki is such a private person, it’s hard for me to believe that [Name] wouldn’t be someone who works very closely with him.”

You knew it was game over. You were close, but not perfect enough to pass this level in the game. When the cop placed his hand back on the table, you knew it was really game over. “So, mind telling me who Shigaraki is to [Name]?”

In your mind it raced over so many different points in your life that you shared with Shigaraki. The fights, the late nights, the mid-day talks, everything. Though, the most vivid one was the day he expressed such love to you in a way that words could never describe. You remembered the way his blue locks obeyed gravity, invading his sweaty and memorized face as he gazed down at you. You remember the feel of tears in the corners of your eyes, not daring to fall. His hand soon coming up to your face and wiping it away with his thumb, careful not to hurt you with his quirk. 

You sighed, your gaze hard on the cop as you felt the protective walls you had up start to fall. You needed to say it quickly or else he wouldn’t believe you. You couldn’t hurt Shigaraki more than you probably already have just by being caught. Perhaps he would come for you, but in the end you just needed to tell one more lie. One more lie before you reveal the truth to Shigaraki and only him alone. 

“No one important.”

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger || 03

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

A/N: They are back and realer than ever I AM ACTUALLY NOT OK RIGHT NOW PLEASE CRY WITH ME IN MY ASK BOX. OK LOVE YOUUUU!!!

@bulletproofbirdy​ my sweet and beautiful friend! I owe this all to you. Never doubt your brain because, its freaking genius. I love you.

“What did they say?” Yoongi asks, his lips resting on the back of his hand as he leans onto the wooden table.

Seokjin sighs, “They said that they have observed these groups using similar tactics. Rachel has noticed that they encircle the perimeter of the village first and slowly work their way in, Y/N agreed with her observation.”

“Usually raiders blitz their way into a territory, right? We’re obviously dealing with something else here...” Hoseok interjects, looking to his General for answers.

Yoongi’s features tense up, his hand moving to settle onto the table, “I don’t understand what invaders would want with this territory-” He seems to grow irritated, his eyes transfixed upon a map of their current region, “it’s several miles from any meaningful trade route, the port is at least 20 hours by horseback; it makes absolutely no sense.”

Before anyone else can intervene, Yoongi turns his attention to Namjoon, who sits at the other end of the table, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbles furiously in his journal.

“What do you think of this?” Yoongi murmurs.

Namjoon doesn’t look up, he just continues his current task as he responds, “I think it’s time I pay the Meddleways a visit...”

Immediately, tension spreads amongst the group.

Yoongi shakes his head, “I don’t think that’s necessary Namjoon, they-”

Namjoon looks up, pointing his gaze directly at Yoongi, “They are still a threat, hyung. Vengeance is a messy motive sure but, it’s extremely powerful. If they are influenced solely by their desire to harm you for what you did with their leader, they will stop at nothing until their objective is complete.”

The Meddleways were an extremist group that had a nasty habit of weaseling their way into vulnerable villages and, attempting to coax the inhabitants into joining what is essentially a cult. The Queens got wind of their practices and immediately tasked Yoongi’s fleet with understanding more of what they were capable of. Enter Namjoon, posing as a medicine man from the East port who sought after a spiritual awakening. Namjoon lived with the group for just under two weeks before he realized the true nature of the group. Their mission was simple: infiltrate the target village, strip the surrounding area of natural resources and, dismantle their leadership and, infiltrate their religious systems.

They were essentially, a very deadly gang of power-hungry miscreants whose true objective was to expand their influence and take over the Queens territory, which would inevitably lead to the fall of the royal family.

It’s no surprise that once Namjoon reported his findings, the Queens were understandably horrified and moved them all the way up Yoongi’s watchlist.

Due to the trust Namjoon had built with them, they didn’t think twice when he suggested that they accelerate their course to get to the village due to the oncoming storm. He led them right into the trap of the Tiger himself; well, the Tiger and his 22,000 men.  

Namjoon also made a carefully crafted choice to avoid revealing himself as a traitor, should any of the remaining members (those who weren’t slain or arrested) decide to regroup and continue their leader’s mission.  

“Do you really think their motive to settle the score is enough for them to endanger their own lives over? I told them that if they continued their work, they would meet the same fate as their brethren.” Yoongi’s voice is tired but he tries to remain alert for the sake of his fleet.

Namjoon nods, “I do. That is the way they operate. I don’t doubt that they reconvened after the fall of Xansa. They have likely moved on to someone else.”

Xansa.

At the sound of his name, Yoongi sighs uneasily and shakes his head as the scar along his eye ignites with the memory of its inception.

Xansa was the leader of the Meddleways: the brains, the heart and the soul.

Namjoon warned Yoongi of his cruelty after witnessing the way he treated his followers. His charisma was as deadly as his blade and his need for power dripped from his aura like coagulated blood.  

He was ruthless.

From what Namjoon could gather, he alone had hundreds of deaths upon his hands. His plan wasn’t just to expand his influence; he sought after total domination.

Yoongi fought him during their capture of the Meddleways and it’s one of the few times throughout Yoongi’s career that he genuinely thought he was going to die.  

He survived and killed Xansa in the middle of a thunderstorm, in front of all of his followers, just as the local stories have told.

Xansa left his mark on Yoongi however and ensured that he never forgot the time his life was almost ripped from him.  

“As of now, I don’t think we have enough evidence to prove this theory Namjoon but, I will consider your input and ask that you alert me of any other ideas you might have. For the time being, I don’t want anyone of you away from the fleet. If there truly is a new group of invaders on the horizon, they will look for any excuse to shed blood and prove their power. Understood?”

The six of them nod, lips tight with concentration as they listen intently to their General.

Yoongi values the opinions of his men very much and they know that they are free to speak as often as they see fit. At the end of the day however, Yoongi has the final say. He is their leader and his word is gold. They trust him enough to follow his orders without question, even if they don’t always understand his intentions.

Yoongi lets out another breath before nodding towards the exit of the tent, “Eat well tonight and turn in early. Training will get harder tomorrow as we will be teaching the recruits how to disarm their opponent. Jungkook-ah,” He turns to his younger brother, “I need you awake before dawn to assist me with the morning briefing.”

Jungkooks smiles, his head bobbing with an eager nod, “Yes hyung.”

Yoongi resists the fondness that blooms in his chest, patting a hand on back, “Very good. Namjoon- please continue exploring further theories and prepare for a possible journey to your connections when I deem it safe to do so. Hoseok, you can take the morning off but I will need you out here by midday to continue your classes. Jin hyung, I need you to enter the village and gather more information on their recent raids. The village leaders are located near the market plaza. Jimin and Taehyung, you will be with me most of the day as I will need to use you in my demonstrations.”

“Should I tell Y/N to halt her deliveries then? Since we will all be preoccupied?” Jin inquires hesitantly.

The bread supply is already depleted, and he is unhappy at the thought of going without it, particularly after a hard day’s work.

“I doubt Hyung would refuse a visit from her. Even on such a busy day...” Jimin smirks, wrapping an arm around Taehyung who chuckles warmly.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “It makes no difference to me whether or not she does her delivery.”

Jin throws an incredulous look his way, “Yoongi. You aren’t seriously going to pretend she hasn’t caught your attention are you?”

Namjoon is scribbling in his journal again but he doesn’t miss a beat as he murmurs his input, “Hyung is worried that getting involved with a civilian will be complicated so, he is concealing his emotions for her because it’s easier that way. However, he will probably leave during our meal tonight to go see her because, he is captivated. According to the shift in his body language, he also has strong sexual urges for her as well but, fears that getting involved with her in such a way would be irresponsible as he still has time left in the Queens Army.”

He doesn’t even look up from his journal as he psychoanalyzes his hyung. His tone is cool and almost detached but his lips twitch with a smile as soon as Jimin and Taehyung begin laughing.

Yoongi is unable to help the shock that colors his features, his cheeks reddening with the heat of embarrassment as he watches the rest of his fleet begin to laugh at his expense.

“Did I miss anything?” Namjoon looks up finally, smirking across the table.

They expect Yoongi to rush out of the tent in a fit of denial but, instead he slumps back in his chair, his own smirk decorating his features as he stares at Namjoon across the table, “Just one thing...”

Namjoon’s brows raise, “Oh? Enlighten me please...”

Yoongi chuckles, moving his finger in a come hither motion to prompt the rest of his fleet to lean in eagerly.

They aren’t used to their leader sharing his emotions so, they are besides themselves at the thought of hearing more.

“That I would feel an immense amount of displeasure when being psychoanalyzed by my own solider which would then result in the punishment of the entire fleet in the form of hmm-” Yoongi places a finger on his chin in thought, “running drills for 2 hours after training tomorrow? Does that sound about right to you Namjoon?”

The group groans, Jin’s eyes widening in horror, “Namjoon-ah! Look what you’ve done!”

Namjoon however doesn’t flinch though, he just chuckles as him and Yoongi exchange conversation through shared eye contact.

“Hyung, please...” Jimin whines, reaching for Yoongi’s hand, “Don't make us do that, I hate running- it's not even in my job description.”

Yoongi just quirks a brow, a smirk still on his lips, “If you’d like me to stay out of your plans for the day, I suggest you stay out of mine. Is that something you think you all could manage?”

“Oh yes, absolutely hyung- no problem.”

“Who’s y/n? Never heard of her...”

“Hyung you are always right; that’s why we trust you, you know? You are the world’s greatest general.”

“We won't say anything, we promise.”

Yoongi chuckles, his eyes glinting with a bit of fondness, “Namjoon?”

Namjoon nods, lifting his hands to concede despite the grin still on his mouth, “Your words are divine my General.”

A phrase very often said in the fleet’s initial training with Yoongi.

It was a psychological tactic he used to build trust between him and his trainees but now, so many years later, it’s looked upon with humor.

“Good.” He stands, a look of complete satisfaction on his face, “Eat your meal and then it’s straight to bed. I better not see any empty cots when I return...”

There is quite a bit of movement in the tent as Yoongi makes his way to the exit, with the rest of his fleet (sans Namjoon) quickly abiding by his orders.  

As Yoongi pushes aside the cloth door of the tent, the light from the full moon hanging over their camp causes him to turn around.

“Yah-” He nods to Namjoon, his finger pointing through the opening of the tent, “it’s a full moon.”

Namjoon perks up, shoving his journal aside hastily and practically tripping over his own feet as he stumbles eagerly towards Yoongi.

Before Namjoon brushes past him, he looks at Yoongi with a sheepish smile and bows his head,

“Thank you hyung...”

Yoongi smirks fondly, tipping his head in return, “Send her my best.”

Namjoon’s smile broadens, nodding eagerly before rushing out towards the moon.

As cold as Namjoon may seem, he too has a lover on his mind.

Danielle.

Childhood sweetheart who became his wife as soon they were 18.

Through various aspects of Namjoon’s personal faith, he believes that the fastest way to communicate with her is through the moon. The moon has the strongest gravitational pull when it’s at its fullest so Namjoon usually spends most of those nights, speaking with her until sunrise.

He sends letters too but, the moon brings him comfort.

Just as she does.  

Yoongi chuckles at his eagerness, watching him until he finds a place near the edge of their camp to sit and begin.

Speaking of lovers on the mind...

As much as Yoongi hates to be predictable, he would be lying if he said that Namjoon’s assumptions of him had been incorrect.  

He will be going to see you tonight.  

Even though he isn’t certain of where things might be headed between the two of you, he can’t help but wish to be near you again.  

Captivated was the word Namjoon had used and as Yoongi starts on the path towards the river, he grins to himself; captivated truly was the perfect word.  

You weren’t exactly sure if Yoongi would show up at the River tonight.

It’s not like the two of you had an agreement to meet.

In fact, the last time you saw him, he was doing his nightly walk and rather than stopping to say hello to you, he merely smiled and bowed his head in your direction.

The two of you had held hands the night before so, you figured that maybe something were to happen between you but, then again, maybe he was just looking for comfort.

Or attention.

You don’t imagine he experiences the physical touch of another person unless it’s during battle, which can’t be a very pleasurable experience.  

As you slip your shoes off near the entrance of the river, your heart flutters at the association of Yoongi and pleasure in the same sentence. You know you’re likely only causing your own suffering to think of him this way but, you can’t help it.

You want him.  

You really do and with everything you have, you hope he wants you too.

The stickiness on the back of your neck pulls you out of your thinking as it reminds you of the incredibly hot day you’ve just worked through.  

Towards the end of summer, the sun decides to give an encore of what has been an already sweltering and humid season. The week before it begins to cool down, the temperature comfortable and breezy before your region is hit with one final heat wave. Today, in the marketplace you quite literally salivated over the thought of cooling down in the river that evening.  

The river is often packed during days like today but once the sun sets, everyone heads back to their homes.  

That is when you choose to come by.  

It’s quite peaceful in the evening, the heat is still present but bearable and the slight breeze that whistles through the trees provides solace on your flushed skin.  

You don’t plan on fully submerging yourself because, you aren’t entirely fond of the idea of your feet being suspended in the deep and dark waters of the river.

Instead, you opt to wear a blue linen set that you often wearing during warmer months which will allow you to wade in the water without getting your clothes wet.

The river runs cold all year round, freezing over during the winter time but the cool sensation is welcome against the tips of your toes. You step further in, letting out a deep sigh and allow yourself to shut your eyes as you wade further into the water.

The water surrounds your ankles and just as it begins to slowly surround your calves, you hear the low melody of a voice you have waited for all day.

“Y/N?” Yoongi calls gently and it makes you grin because, you can sense he is actively trying not to scare you again.

Turning around, you are met with the sight of him; hair pulled back, white linen pants and a tighter fitting black shirt. It’s the first time you're seeing his arms and immediately, you’re able to recognize the symbols of both his strength and his experience. His skin looks beautiful in the moonlight, the sinewy dips of his muscles travelling alongside the colors of his veins, various scars littering the surface of his arms.  

He truly is something else entirely.

“Thank you for warning me this time instead of sneaking up on me.” You tease, the water sloshing as you turn your back to the river.

His lips twitch, “I’ve never snuck up on you before, you just aren’t as prepared as you should be, especially for someone who likes to wander out into the forest by themselves...”

“The forest is technically that way.” You quip, pointing through the trees.

Finally, his lips crack with a grin as he shakes his head at you, “Technically it is but, danger can lurk around every corner.”

You can’t but giggle, feeling rather giddy in his presence, “You make a good point- the fluffy squirrels and chirping birds are truly vicious creatures...”

He rolls his eyes then and shakes his head once more, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he steps towards you.

But as he’s opening his mouth to speak, you drop the bit of sarcasm in your tone.

“How was your day?”

Yoongi feels a bit of warmth in his chest as he genuinely can’t remember the last time someone asked him that question.

Immediately however, he is hit with a pang of anxiety, the conversation he had with his men coming back into his mind.

Looking upon your warm expression, he fully appreciates your beauty.

The curves of your face, the sincerity in your gaze, the small smile on your lips...

He knows you’re capable of holding your own but, after hearing of a possible threat, he is infected with the need to protect you.  

“It was fine. How was your day?” He attempts to reign in the worry in his tone, feeling very confident in his ability to conceal his true emotions.

He should know better...

“What’s wrong?” You ignore his inquiry regarding your day, stepping towards him once more, unsure of how close you should get.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing. Why do you think something is wrong?

“You look troubled-” Pointing a finger towards his face, you soften your tone, “Is something bothering you?”

Yoongi feels strangely emotional at your concern, still not fully understanding your interest in his feelings.  

He doesn’t want to lie to you but, he also doesn’t want to spend his time with you talking about potential danger.

Besides, he really would like to hear about your day.

“It’s nothing. Just had a meeting with my men earlier, things got a little tense that’s all.” He assures you before extending a hand your way, “I’m off-duty now though and I’d really like to hear about your day if that’s alright...”

The sight of his hand sends butterflies down your throat and into your stomach before you interlock your fingers with his a little too eagerly.

He chuckles warmly, noticing your excitement and gently pulls you closer to him.  

Being near Yoongi feels almost familiar.

It’s comforting and slightly intoxicating as the skin of his forearm brushes along the inside of yours.

The two of you begin following the length of the river, your plans and shoes suddenly forgotten.

“My day was ok...” You begin, tilting your head, “the heat was unbearable though. I thought I was going to faint in the middle of the plaza today. Ugh and then Jane kept going on about how I needed to find a husband and start a family, ‘ You aren’t getting any younger you know? Sooner or later you’re going to end up a spinster peddling night shade for a decent meal’ “ Your face scrunches up as you imitate the very unique tone of Jane’s voice and it causes Yoongi to chuckle warmly beside you, amusement coloring his features.

“Don’t laugh!” You whine, leaning into him but, your mouth is already pulling up into a smile, “She’s relentless!”

Yoongi continues laughing, using his finger to flick a tear from the corner of his eye, “She is quite abrasive. I actually like that about her but-” He points at you, “She shouldn’t be harassing you about your marital status. I assume that you’re unmarried by choice...”

There go the butterflies again.

“Why do you assume that?”

Yoongi glances at you before returning his gaze on the path you two are on. The corner of his mouth is pulled up into a smile as he lets out a breath, “I’m mainly assuming that there have been other suitors you’ve crossed paths with. You don’t seem like the type of person to settle or the type of person who makes decisions based on the opinions of others.”

As flattered as you are by his statement, there is one particular thing that captures your attention.

“Other suitors?” You raise your brows, stealing a glance his way in time to see him fully grin.

“Yes,” He nods, tightening his features with sincerity, “other.”

You feel your stomach doing back flips, the giddiness bubbling inside you threatening to explode but instead of jumping for joy like you want to, you merely squeeze his hand and offer him a grin in return.  

The moment is over as soon as it begins as Yoongi looks down at your feet before frowning and turning back towards where the two of you had first met tonight.

“Where are your shoes? Why did you take them off?”

You giggle, “I was about to wade into the river to cool off, I don’t normally keep my shoes on while I do that.”

His frown falters a bit when you giggle but, he halts your movements none the less, “You could step on something, it’s dark out here...”

“It’s not that dark.” You insist, turning your body so you are face to face with him, “I walk through this area all the time.”

Yoongi feels his breath hitch as the proximity between the two of you lessens. He isn’t prepared for the feelings swirling inside of him or the ease of access he now has to your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your lips...

He would love nothing more than to place his mouth on every feature.

On every inch.

He clears his throat, “Fine. We’ll walk slower then so, at least if you step on something- it won’t be so hard.”

His solution makes you laugh again but it also pleases you.

You like that he doesn’t try to force his opinion on you and that he trusts your judgement.

“Fair enough.” You concede, reluctantly turning so the walk can continue, “How was the bread today by the way? I added a bit more garlic this time...”

He nods immediately, patting his stomach, “It was delicious. This batch was completely mauled by my fleet- my little brother in particular shoved at least 10 pieces into his mouth.” He chuckles, shaking his head, “I’m convinced that boy is part animal or something, he certainly behaves like one.”

Giggling, you mimic him and shake your head as well, “Or he just really likes bread. I would probably behave like an animal if I were deprived of carbs of 6 months out of the year.”

“It’s more like 10 months out of the year.” He corrects, “We only return to the kingdom during blizzard season or if one of us is injured.”

Your eyes widen, “Really? I thought members of the Queen’s army rotate every six months. You only take a break for two months out of the year?”

Yoongi chuckles at your surprise, “Yes-” He nods, “We are considered uh- special forces. The Queens employ us full time. The fleet I oversee of the Royal Army- they rotate quite often but the seven of us operate March through December.”

Kissing your teeth, you can’t help the genuine look of concern on your face, “How long have you been doing this?”

His eyes narrow, “Hm- I think I’m going on ten years now...yeah. I joined when I was 18.” He nods in agreement with himself, “This is my last year of service.”

Your heart jumps to your throat, “Really?!” The volume of your voice climbs dangerously high and it causes Yoongi to laugh, his eyes widening.

“Does that excite you?”

“I mean-” You bite your lip, trying to figure out if his retirement is something you should celebrate, “is it something you’re looking forward to?”

He smirks, eyes glinting with amusement, “It is.”

“Then yes,” You decide, stopping the pace of your walk so you can turn towards him, “it does excite me.”

His smirk never falters, whilst his free hand moves to trace down the length of your arm, seeking the grasp of your fingers. His touch leaves a trail of fire on your flesh, your other hand eagerly intertwining with his.  

“Oh? Why does it excite you?”  

The tone of his voice lightens; it’s playful and almost a little taunting as he leans in towards your face.

“Um-” You clear your throat, stepping closer to him so that your toes are almost touching his, “Because maybe, I would get to see you more. If you were retired...”

Yoongi’s eyes soften, the back of his thumb brushing over your knuckles, “Hm. So, she’d like to see me more...”

“I really would.” You confirm, the look in his eye offering you some confidence in your next move.  

Swallowing back your nerves, you take the hand you’re currently holding and guide them to your hips.

Without a word, you place your freed hands on the ball of his shoulders, sliding them inwards towards the base of his neck. As the two of you make eye contact, you feel his grip on your hips tighten, his big hands feeling the flesh there for the first time. The movement of your fingers causes him swallow, the Adams apple bobbing in his throat whilst his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, only making them more inviting.  

The seam of your top would make it so easy for him to slip his fingers beneath it to feel your skin for real but, instead he merely flexes his fingers just enough for the tips of them to press into your body.  

In your own attempt to explore his skin, your fingertips brush the soft skin at the junction between the base of his throat and his shoulder, your palms lying flat on his collar bones.

He lets out a shaky breath, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he forces his eyes away from yours.

“You’re making this very difficult...” Yoongi murmurs.

You slow your motions on him, “I’m making what difficult?”

He’s still looking away, but his hands squeeze your hips, anchoring them in place to stop them from wandering as he wishes to.

“I’m trying to court you properly but, now you’ve gone and put my hands on you...” He smirks, his feline-like eyes darting back to yours, “you aren’t even giving me a chance here.”

His accusatory tone causes you to giggle, your fingers inching closer to brush against the hair at the nape of his neck, “Who’s to say what’s proper?”

“Societal decorum, your parents, my parents, our friends- “ He chuckles, glancing up towards the sky, “whatever god is in my head right now, shaming me for the thoughts I’m having.”

“Any god who shames you for your desires is no god of mine...and besides,” You breathe, leaning up towards his lips, “we’re the only ones who get to decide what’s proper for us.”

He sighs, his breath close enough to wisp across your mouth, the proximity intoxicating.

“I should have known the day I met you that you make your own rules...” He smirks, the need to press his lips against yours nearly unbearable. He nods to you then, raising his brows, “What do you think is proper for us in this moment? Since we’ve already disregarded decency.”  

Another giggle leaves your lips and without thinking you move the rest of the way so that your mouth lingers just in front of his own, “I think it’s proper for you to kiss me- for the first time, underneath the full moon.”

At your boldness his heavy gaze widens slightly as a sharp breath leaves his lips before pushes them onto you.

Immediately, lightening shoots through the center of your spine, exploding into your heart, your hands on his shoulders tightening significantly, his own grip on your hips following suit.

Your bodies press together as your lips tuck in and move against each other. The tip of your nose rubs unceremoniously on the bridge of his own, the kiss deepening with a mutual sigh between the two of you.  

Your chest is pushing against the linen of his shirt, your body coming to life as he begins walking you backwards towards the large willow tree standing proudly near the river. When your back presses against the rough bark, you take the opportunity to slide your nails up his neck and into his hair, careful not to ruin the state of his ponytail too much. Your touch elicits a very faint groan from him, his teeth nibbling against your bottom lip.

With the increase of your breathing, you press him closer to you, pushing your breasts into him, hoping that he will take the hint and continue touching you. His hands merely squeeze at your hips, holding you steady against his body whilst his tongue brushes your bottom lip.

He’s requesting entrance into your mouth, which you gladly grant, parting your lips and sliding your own tongue along his. The two of you play in each others mouths, it’s slow and almost messy and it causes your fingers to tighten in his hair, wishing desperately that you could run your fingers through it properly.

Yoongi’s heart feels as though it's going to give out from all the sensations he’s feeling, his resolve weakening by the second, all thoughts of decorum leaving his conscious.  

The bark of the tree is digging into your back, but you can barely feel it; your mind is too full of Yoongi. His hands begin inching up your torso, almost massaging his way up, his grasp tightening further as he resists the urge to move his hips.  

But he can already feel the blood pooling between his legs, and he knows that things are already going too far so when you slide your leg up to hitch it around his waist, he finally pulls away.  

Breathing heavily, the two of you rest your foreheads on one another, lust swirling in the air around you.

“Why did you stop?” You pout, pecking at his lips.

Yoongi chuckles into your lips, leaning away slightly to press a kiss to your nose and then your forehead and as his mouth lingers there, he responds, “I have to maintain some level of decency- I am a man of the royal family.”

Like a spoiled child, you slump back against the tree, your lips still pouted as your hands return to his shoulders, “The royal family is miles away...besides, we were just kissing.”

Yoongi’s raspy laugh makes you want to kiss him even more while the fondness in his gaze makes you want to grin like an idiot.

“Your little suggestion to kiss me was turning into something else entirely and you know that.” He accuses playfully, bringing a thumb over your cheek.

“Were you not enjoying it?” You point out, dancing your fingers over his chest and he rolls his eyes, catching your hand in his own.

“You know very well that I was enjoying it.” He smirks, glancing down between the two of you at his semi-hard length pushing against his linen pants, “I am a man of my word however and I meant what I said about courting you properly.”

The sight of his length removes all moisture from your mouth, most of it seeming to reallocate between your legs.

“But you’re-!” You almost whine, wanting nothing more than to resume your earlier encounter.

He chuckles once more, bringing your fingers to his lips, “I am.” He concedes, dragging his lips over the back of your knuckles, “your lips are lethal.”

Your focus hones in on the wet lips currently pressing kisses against your hand but, your stubborn nature wishes to press the issue further.

“Then why did you stop?”

Yoongi smirks, “Because it’s not proper to have each other now, even when I want you as bad as I do-” He kisses between the junction of your pointer and middle finger, brows raising at the sight of your pouted lips, “Why are you still pouting?”

“Because...” You sigh, licking your lips, “I already told you I didn’t care what others thought I-”

Yoongi chuckles again but this time, the sound is darker, “Y/N, when I tell you that we should wait, it isn’t because of the opinions of others it’s because...” He pauses, licking his tongue between your fingers, sending a shock wave between your thighs, “I couldn’t possibly pleasure you properly against this tree...”

You let out shaky breath, leaning into him once more, “I believe you could.”

He grins, kissing over the spot he just licked, returning your hand to his shoulder, “Oh do you now?”

“Mhm.” You hum, giggling as he pinches your hips, your fingers clasping behind his neck.

He leans over, kissing your lips gently before pulling back to secure your gaze, “Be patient my sweet girl...” His voice drops to a whisper, “...and let our fairytale develop a little longer.”

You can’t help but embrace him then, tucking your face into his neck, “I’m sorry if I’m so eager...I’ve just never felt this way before.”

He chuckles warmly, easing you away from the trees so he can rub your back, “Please don’t be sorry. This is new territory for me as well. We can navigate it together ok? My fleet has to move on in a few weeks but, it will only be a few months until I can make it back to you. After that- we'll have all the time in the world.”

Nodding, you press a kiss to his neck, tightening the embrace, not wanting to let go, “Why do you have to be such an accomplished solider General Min? Mediocrity could have really worked in your favor...”

He laughs again, the sound warming you from the inside out, “Terribly sorry mam. I had no anticipation of being captivated by a smart-mouthed apothecary during a refuel stop.”

“Oh so I’ve captivated you have I?” You tease, your fingers walking slowly across his back.

He smiles, turning his head to kiss the side of your head, “To put it very lightly yes- yes you have.”

Captivated was the word Namjoon had used and it truly was the perfect word.  

Absolutely perfect.

[queer-as-used-by-tolkien]

Storyline Study: Order Mentor

When you joined your Order at level thirty and met your mentor at level forty, each of the three was instantly revealed to be a different person altogether from the other two.

Tybalt Leftpaw, Lightbringer of the Order of Whispers, was on his first-ever field mission. He was very blatantly calling for you in a sort of undercover way, and simultaneously panicking when you tried to mention the full name of the Order. Your supposed mentor was as new to this as you, had a (sometimes very human-teenager) sense of humor, and had a rather sad backstory balanced by his good nature. You knew he liked apples.

Sieran, Magister of the Durmand Priory, was full of reckless abandon, disregard for authority, boundless curiosity and a heart for the little things. She was confident in her role and her ability, and unhesitatingly took you into dangerous places for the sake of exploration and adventure while brushing off rebuke like a tree sheds sap - even when it was heartily deserved. You learned to be rather frightened for her.

Forgal Kernsson, Warmaster of the Vigil, was an archetypal gruff, stern old mentor whose every drop of praise spoke volumes. But he also carried a sort of wildness to him, that rough edge from growing up a hunter in the Shiverpeaks, coupled with every willingness to say it like it was if it was true. He could be surprised, he could observe calmly when something was new, he could snark like the rest of them and even say things he didn't mean from time to time.

They all fought the dragons - they each more or less took it seriously. But Tybalt was a partner and friend, you were keeping Sieran in check, not the other way around, and Forgal trained you mercilessly.

You all grew together - they had each changed for the better by the time they died. Tybalt had learned that he was worth something, Sieran had learned friendship was worth everything, and Forgal had learned... well. He'd found a student to be proud of, a partner to fight with, a friend to trust... a child to carry on his legacy. But I'm not sure, exactly, what Forgal learned - what the point of his story was.

Sieran was more-or-less well suited to her role in the story; she symbolized innocence and cheer and optimism and the beauty of the world - so you could recognize what was being lost by the dragon's onslaught. Tybalt's story was one extremely well-suited to his character; he taught you that working together was vital to survival, even when neither of you knew exactly what you were doing - a valuable lesson as the story progressed. Both of their stories fit well enough into the three-mission story sequence concluding in their death.

But Forgal was different. He was the mentor who dies partway through. He was the one who trained you and taught you all he could, who died imparting one last gem of wisdom. Or, he should have.

I am not attacking Forgal. I am attacking ArenaNet. We had too little time with Forgal for the story Anet was trying to tell with him. He was like Obi-Wan but without showing up again as a ghost, without the prequels, without being able to send Luke to Yoda - without, most significantly, being able to explain why he'd said Luke's father was dead.

We don't know Forgal. We don't understand him. We only know his family died to Icebrood... but why is he with the Vigil, specifically? Why is he a good friend of Almorra's - allowed to butt in and insult a diplomatic ambassador with barely a reprimand? Forgal is the character that tells me the Vigil has been around decades, not a mere five years. Was he in another military? Forgal was over a hundred years old. You don't join a military at that age and, five years later, are a highly self-disciplined warrior such as he was. Maybe he was Lionguard? Hear this: Forgal is actually older than Lion's Arch. If he'd survived, he would have been old enough to bear witness to all three incarnations of that city. But, apart from being able to recognize the Orrian Scout on sight, this is only a trivial piece of lore.

After he judged us worthy, we should have had long training sessions with him - sparring matches wherein he would easily fend off our blows while simultaneously teaching us about the world, all the wisdom he'd gathered, expounding just a bit on the history of the Elder Dragons (perhaps customized for player's race!) - and then we go off and have a real Vigil mission. Perhaps remove the racial sympathy 'choice' and have all five! A sparring match before each one, with a different lesson (the racial sympathy missions were awfully short anyway). And if you want to keep the idea implied by the term 'racial sympathy,' you could change the tone of some of them, make the player more reluctant and Forgal more impatient, have a middle-of-mission lecture on why it's important to work with everyone - this way you joining an Order feels less 'oh you've always been sympathetic to other races' and more 'wait who are these people.' But you know the real kicker? These training sessions would have made us actually feel like we were a treasured part of his life, the kid he never had, that he takes the effort to train us and takes the time to correct us when we're wrong, that he shares his history with us.

And then, at Claw Island, he would place a hand on our shoulder and tell us - hey - don't worry. You did good. You tell my tale and you take my lessons and put them to good use, you hear me? Listen to Trahearne over there - I've told you a bit about him - he's a good kid, he's smart and he knows what he's doing. And - partner? Partner, I need you to put me down if that blasted dragon raises me.

And we're in tears and Trahearne standing there also puts up a fight and tells him not to go, but Forgal goes anyway, roaring his defiance at the dragon - and his famous line, "you may win the battle, dragon, but you will never defeat our spirit!" And maybe he adds - "you may defeat me, but I will be avenged!" like some cartoon villain only you know - you know that means you.

That is the storyline Forgal deserved. (I selfishly also fixed it just a bit with regards to Trahearne, but...) I don't care if we add an extra ten or twenty levels to the game to account for the four extra racial sympathy story chapters.

And see, now you'll argue that that's biased in favor of Forgal, to do all that with him but not the other two - and that's part of the idea.

Forgal isn't like the other two. He shouldn't be compared to the other two. The storyline we have is good for the other two. Extending their stories would feel... false. Yes, there are supposed to be parallels between the three Orders, but... in that case, ArenaNet should have done something entirely different with Forgal.

How about this: Almorra assigns us to someone else for a mentor, but we show such epic promise she switches us to Laranthir. His storyline? It's right in his idle dialogue at the Vigil Keep - he's always sought love. This puts his storyline on par with Sieran and Tybalt. What about Forgal? He's a Lionguard that all three Order mentors know well. We do racial sympathy with Forgal plus our Order mentor (doing those with only one ally is kind of absurd anyway). This can help set-up and foreshadow the tactical significance of Claw Island, too - and hey, maybe Forgal can even survive that! Or maybe he doesn't survive it but our Order mentor does! (Yeah, that fits better, since Laranthir is important in HoT.) And then, once the Pact is formed, their stories end more naturally without regard for the Order parallels, which would keep the story unique - where your choice of Order still matters even when it doesn't anymore. Tybalt didn't have to die - in fact, it's kind of absurd that he did since his story was about finding his own heroism, and then he dies. He can die later, perhaps, after he's thoroughly proved himself. (And hey, throw in an encounter with his old warband! Bonus lore points!) And Sieran 0 maybe Sieran could go through a heartbreaking transformation in Orr, the land of the dead - you see something far more heartbreaking than her death as she loses her spirit, and you and Trahearne both resolve that even if you're super-busy with the Pact, you can still cleanse Orr together to save Sieran. (This makes cleansing Orr a personal thing for you as well as Trahearne!) And Laranthir - well, I don't know what he was doing originally. Maybe he stayed back at the Vigil Keep to manage things, but you still see him now and then and he gives good advice and (since his storyline was about falling in love or something) you get to tease him about whatever's going on in his life, and then later he shows up again in HoT.

I'm going to stop - I already just presented a rough outline of a whole rewrite of core PS, I'm not going to step into HoT territory. (But since his storyline was about falling in love - ? Anything could happen really. Maybe his love died in the crash (we don't actually know of any characters who died in the actual crash. Awful shame) and that's why he takes the lead against Mordremoth. That would give him a cool motive.)

Anet I want this now.

I only wanted to say how unfair Forgal's story was to him, and then I came up with this whole thing - ? Some of it included a few helpful fixes for the Trahearne hate - this isn't something I can write out into a whole fic since I have a main fic and while this is a significant AU it's not quite enough for a whole fic but also far too much for just a headcanon - maybe I'll invent a new Commander.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Kuripa’s True Intentions.

[Forest near training field, 5pm]

...

*An hour before Kaede’s lesson, Maki goes to the place where she and Kuripa usually train.

This definitely looks like a good place...It’s rather spacious, but also not very stable or flat. Good for advancing terrain...

*Maki starts to examine the area.

(But the question is...why and how is Kurafto even able to use a sword...?)

(He’s clearly proficient enough...At least enough to warrant Kaede calling him a teacher. But what secrets is he hiding...?)

...

(I’ll find a tree or other place to hide in...Then in an hour’s time, I’ll watch their lesson and find out for myself...)

*crunchhh*

HAH!

*Maki is so caught up with her thoughts, she doesn’t notice herself walking into a drop. The gravel beneath her feet slides and she falls straight into a ditch!

*catch!*

...!

...Huh?

...!

*Before she can properly fall, Kuripa suddenly appears and grabs her by the waist, hoisting her back up.

You alright?

Y-Yeah...I’m ok.

Heh. You know, for an assassin, you’re not very quick on your feet.

Shut up! It was just unexpected, and I’m a little out of practice!

But...I’m surprised that you saved me like that...

Of course, why wouldn’t I?

I just...I’m just surprised is all...I wasn’t particularly nice to you the last few times we spoke.

What? You mean at the training area? Dude, you were just worried about your friend, I can’t spite you for that.

Well...Thanks...And thanks for catching me too.

You are most welcome...so...what are you doing here?

Oh uh...well...um...I...

...?

...

*sigh* I can’t think of any excuses, so I’ll just be honest. I came to spy on you.

Spy on me?

Yeah. I wanted to figure out how someone like you, who claims to be an animator, is so good at sword fighting, to the point where Kaede sought you out to teach her how to do it.

So do you want me to prove my skills as an animator, or just explain how I’m decent at using a blade? Because either way, why didn’t you just...Oh I dunno...ASK me?

Because you’re so secretive!

This doesn’t make an awful lot of sense, but you’re the kind of man who the more I get to know, the less I’m able to figure out about you. I feel like I’ve only seen the surface and know nothing about what’s underneath, even though I claim to.

How can I trust you to tell me the truth?

...You’re worried that Akama-...Kaede...shouldn’t be getting involved with me. I get that.

In which case, I’ll tell you. When I was first doing animation work, I worked as part of a project where the main character wielded a one handed sword. Sometimes, in those cases, animators will have practice swords hung above their desks, and they pick it up and wield it around to make sure they get the movements right when they draw them.

...

...

...

Wait...That’s it!?

Well, when you’ve been doing this for who knows how many years, you pick this shit up and it gets engraved in your memory. Most of my styles and movements are based on already existing anime sword movements I’ve either made or worked with.

At least the stuff that gets burned in my memories isn’t something like corpses, since I’m no assassin.

...Aren’t you?

...?

We both know that your body count is higher than you’re willing to admit. Your ability comes from practice and experience...but not in the way you say it.

...Then let me ask you a question, Maki Harukawa.

*Kuripa approaches Maki menacingly and leans over her.

If I’m so dangerous, and so unpredictable and mysterious...And if you think I’m a threat...

Why don’t you tell Akamatsu to stay away from me?

...!

As her friend, she’s obligated to listen to reason from you. So why haven’t you said anything?

Because she’s insane...and she won’t take me seriously. Besides, she’s not an idiot. I’m sure of your bloody history, but I think she at least already has an idea, but isn’t letting it stop her.

Trying to get in the way would be pointless.

...Is that so?

*Kuripa backs off.

Besides...

I never said that you were a threat.

Whaaat? But you said-

I said that I wouldn’t hesitate to take you out if you became dangerous to Kaede or anyone else...but I haven’t seen any evidence of that so far.

In fact, Himiko AND Tenko seem to have taken a liking to you, and they both seem to trust you, which to be honest, isn’t easy with those two.

Kaede obviously trusts you, as does Shuichi, and Kaito was telling me this morning how he’d struggled to sleep from a bad dream he had. He told me you helped him cope with it.

Gonta also said you were very nice to him as well. So the reason why I haven’t acted is because I’ve yet to see any evidence of wrongdoing. Rather, I’ve seen little more than the opposite.

So you’re saying I’m not sus, but you’re just being precautious.

I understand I’m being a bother, and I need to apologize for that. But before I do, I have one question for you. And I want you to answer me with genuine honesty.

...Go on?

...

*Maki takes a deep breath and stares Kuripa in the eyes

Why did you decide to look after us on this trip? Give me an honest answer, and then...

I’ll use that answer to determine whether or not your intentions are good.

...

Well...that's awkward, because I actually have three reasons.

First of all...I needed a break...Just as much as you kids needed one...

When...When Mukuro died in Shikoku, I didn’t know what to do...Whenever I watch someone die, especially if someone close to me dies, I...I lose a part of my soul...And I become something not quite so human...

I become irrational...violent...bloodthirsty...And when I lost her, I was all too ready to pounce on the next enemy and slice them to ribbons...

Which in this case...was Munakata...An innocent man who had simply been brainwashed by the same people who killed her...

You’re right Harukawa. I AM dangerous, and I hate myself for it, but I’ve been on this path for too long and I can’t go back...

But I do what I can to forget my tragedies and live normally, so I came out here to enjoy myself and do just that.

You understand, don’t you? You respected Mukuro greatly too, didn’t you?

...

My second reason is because the Future Foundation need a break from ME too.

From you?

Yeah...I...made quite the mess during my time as a fugitive, and ended up affecting a lot of people...

I attacked and injured the Acting Chairman, I brought innocent civilians into the conflict like Kokichi Ouma and his friends, I threatened the Chairman of the Kisaragi Foundation...And I made a whole heaping load of people worry for me.

I dedicate myself to be the best man for my Boss, but right now, I’m nothing more than a headache. So I took a few steps back, and let him handle things on his own for a bit...

And...what’s the third reason?

...

...Validation...I guess...

Validation? What for?

Validation to see whether or not I really am capable of being a mentor or voice of reason, or if I’m truly capable of protecting the people close to me...

I haven’t felt a strong desire to protect another person ever since...since...

my sister...died...

...!

*Maki is  briefly stunned by Kuripa’s solemn tone of voice in his words.

...How old was she...?

Not much younger than you. Or any of your friends for that matter.

Kotoko was the only family I had left in this world...I adored her...and then she was taken from me...It was hard getting by after she left, but...I did my best...

And when I joined the FF, I thought I’d found a new family...and then Mukuro died too...

Kurafto...

I can’t let it go any longer...Koime, the one who killed Mukuro, is one of OZ’s head honcho’s and now they’ve employed the man who killed my sister too...!

I swear to it...! I’m gonna find them, and when I get my hands on their group I’m GONNA CRUCIFY ALL OF THEM!

*Kuripa’s shout silences every other sound around them, including the birds and the bugs.

...

...

*The two of them stand in a deafening silence.

I’m so-

I am so sorry...

...!?

I didn’t realize you were under so much pressure...and I was unwillingly adding to it.

I understand your pain all too well...I loved Mukuro too, and...I once knew a girl who was like a sister to me before I was separated from her.

I’ve been such a pain in the ass...I’m sorry I put you through the added pressure.

I already told you. There is NOTHING wrong with looking out for your friend. The only reason you did this is because you wanted to protect Akamatsu from my dark side, right?

Well...I want the same...I’m more than willing to teach Akamatsu how to fight so that she can protect herself, but if she ever goes down the same road as me...

I want you to do everything you can to stop her.

...!

I’m more self-aware than you think. No one needs to tell me murder and violence is wrong because I already know that. But still, some things need to be done...and I refuse to allow anyone else to do it other than me.

That way...all blood is on my hands, and I take full responsibility for any tragedy...

So...was my answer satisfactory enough?

...Yeah. I understand now...And I’m sorry...

*Cautiously, and awkwardly, Maki wraps her arms around Kuripa and hugs him.

...

...

*Kuripa hugs her back...

[selfilluminatingkyu]

Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter III

Previous|Current|Next 

You don’t go searching for bones in a Lion’s Den. You just hope you don’t become a part of the pile. 

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters. 

Warnings: Swearing; mentions of conditioning of a child (reader); 

Word Count: 4.8K

After…whatever it was that had taken place with the members of the Troupe, Chrollo had placed you back into his study as he gave further instructions to the rest of the team, who you had been introduced to formally. You would have liked to say that the introduction had cooled your nerves a bit but that would have been a lie. If anything, it made you more anxious. The more you knew, the more susceptible you were to be considered a “loose end” and the likelihood of your impending death became that much more stark to you. Should you prove to be of no use to Chrollo or the rest of the Spiders, as you learned they were frequently called, your time would be clicking down on a timer. 

You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened and what you had done that had proven to be so amazing that had the lot in such a tizzy. You’d spent at least an hour playing a continuous game of “hide and seek” as Nobunaga had dubbed it. Although, you weren’t entirely sure who was exactly supposed to be hiding, seeing you felt their presences the entire time. The only time you had been a little unsure was towards the end. Hisoka’s presence had wavered momentarily, as if he’d suddenly disappeared, but you’d taken in a deep breath and focused yourself only for him to pop back up again, like an object on a radar. Chrollo’s had also been faint at one moment towards the end but his aura had never truly gone away, not that you thought it was possible anyway. Not with how dark and menacing his was. 

“I’m sorry for the delay, but it seems that there’s a new bounty on our heads and we didn’t collect all of the items for auction. There’s also some other matters to attend to.” You looked over your shoulder to Chrollo as he stepped back into the room. The information made you pause…you were certain that everything had been accounted for, for the first round. 

His hair was messy in comparison to the slicked back style it had been earlier, and you mused that it made him look even younger and it suited him more. Looking at him you wondered how many people he’d disarmed and made comfortable with his looks and charm. In another life, he had to have been the eldest son to a very, very wealthy and powerful man. 

Making a noise of agreement, you turned to look back outside. It was getting dark now. The brightest stars starting to pop up in the purple and pink hazed sky. It reminded you of all of the times you and your family went to the country side, away from the city and the light pollution, where you could look at the stars till your heart was content. More than once, you’d fallen asleep outside, wondering what other worlds were out there, what sort of people there were…if any of them ever felt like you did or were raised like you. In your head, there were other girls like you, who’d been raised the same and by some chance, you all ended up together, united and made sure it could never happen to another soul. 

You were people, not property. 

But that was a fantasy and this was reality and in this reality, you didn’t know when your time was up and so you’d decided that you would do whatever was necessary to be reunited with those you’d lost. You’d see your siblings again. You’d save them for your parents. You’d give them a better life, and all the unconditional love they deserved. No fear of being sold to the highest bidder in an effort for your parents to obtain something that was unlikely to act quench their thirst for more power, more money, just more. 

“I don’t believe I ever actually asked you name…or how exactly it was you came to be among the items set for auction.” You jumped, so lost in thought that you hadn’t even register Chrollo. It wasn’t his voice that startled you, but the proximity of his mouth to your ear. He stood behind you, towering over you and making you feel smaller than you already did in his shadow. 

“No, you didn’t. Not that anyone else did, to be frank. But it’s y/n. And I believe I briefly told you earlier how I came to be there. I’m the eldest of four and since a young age, my parents have always been complimented on how beautiful I was. I’m pretty sure from the moment I was born, they were told that they’d been blessed with a precious gem. They took it a little too seriously and decided that what other purpose was there for a gem than to buy them a bigger one? So…my parents figured to obtain more wealth, more power, more notoriety, they’d marry me off to the man or family that checked all of those boxes the most. So, they groomed me to be the perfect wife for a man of that caliber. I got all of the etiquette classes a lady of that birth ranking would get, along with ones that would place me outside of the pack. I had tutors for all of my studies and learned several languages. I was put under pressure and polished to perfection.

“At one point they were in discussions with a family, I was going to be married to their eldest son. I never met him, but I snuck into my father’s office one night and saw a photo of him and his family. While he seemed handsome enough, there was something peculiar about him that had me anxious before I’d even met him. But, while they had the money and power and notoriety…it wasn’t in the form my parents wanted. They wanted to be among those in high society, in the light where people on the street would whisper about them…not among the shadows like that family apparently was. So, my parents started again, except…no one was meeting their standards and the original family seemed to be the best offer they had…till there was someone else. I don’t know how the Don who bought me had heard of me, or how one of the others had, but he did and he was certain that he could tick all of the boxes my parents were trying to fill. So, they made a deal and suddenly I was being brought here to the auction.

“I was in a different room originally, by myself, in a suite. But the Don’s right hand man who’d been watching me prior to the auction came in flustered, talking about something going on and they moved me…which is where I was when…whatever sucked me and the rest of the items into a void happened and then I was backstage where the rest of the Troupe found me. And that’s it.” You turn to look at him and find that the look on his face has you turning around completely. 

The man looks a mixture of furious rage and melancholy heartbreak…and it has you absolutely stumped as to why a man who has killed for sheer joy and amusement—as you’d realized after hearing their names and remembering the scarlet eyes—would look so pained over the story of a young woman being sold as a wife. It didn’t align with the character chart you had started creating in your head for him. No, it was just as peculiar as Hisoka looking concerned when Chrollo had ushered you away from the rest of the group, away from him. 

Regardless, you stood and waited, waited for him to do or say anything so that you could gage how you were meant to react to him when suddenly he was looking at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands. 

“You do not have to worry about being sold to anyone. I’m not in the business of human trafficking.” The sincerity in his words should have calmed you, but it didn’t. You’d heard promises from other men before. Promises to run away with you; promises to marry you and give your parents what they so desired and to save you and your siblings. 

But promises were made to be broken and you weren’t going to hold your breath that this man, lawless as he was, was any different than the rest. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You said stepping out of his grasp and moving out of arms reach. The moment felt far too intimate for someone you had just met, for someone who was essentially holding you captive as he’d made no mention of letting you go. 

Chrollo dropped his arms and looked at you carefully, you could feel his eyes rove over you, and you wondered if he was appraising you as a woman or as a ward, either way it made your skin crawl and feel like a filly up for auction all over again. 

“I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I’m sure there were people in your past who promised you things and never saw them through. Left you feeling more vulnerable and alone than you had prior to. I understand that, I have been there and been in the same place. The only family, the only true family I had was one I created by bringing together a bunch of misfits who sought to burn the world to the ground for the atrocities that we shared. We are bound by a common goal of watching the world, and the people who prosper from the neglect and despair of others, burn. While I have not been in your exact position, I can still understand where you are coming from.” You turn to look at him, eying him carefully as he continues on with his little speech. “I’ll give you two options. You can leave, right here, right now. I’ll take you wherever it is you want to go and that’ll be the end of it. If we see each other, or if you see any of the other members, we’ll act as if we have no idea who you are. However, I think there are things you want to accomplish, people you want to keep with you and as you are now, you won’t be able to accomplish those things.” 

“So…what exactly are you suggesting?” 

“Stay with us. Let me and the other members train you, tap into the clear raw ability you have. Earlier, the members were using a technique called zestsu. When highly capable Nen users are using this technique, their presence is nearly untraceable. However, when myself or other members of the Troupe do it, along with other high skilled hunters, we should completely disappear.” He says and the way his eyes light up as he describes this has you both intrigued but also unnerved. “You, who has no nen abilities or true knowledge, should not have been able to detect Feitain, Machi, Phink, Shalnark, or Nobunaga when you walked into the room. However, there wasn’t a single presence hidden from you. That’s not something even elite nen users can do, let alone you. And yet…you did and with seemingly no effort at all.” 

You looked him over, knowing this offer was too good to be true, and what was it that he got in return out of this deal? The warning bells in your head were going off, telling you that while this deal seems to benefit you the most…you just knew that there was no way, shape, or form in which a man like him would allow any deal to benefit anyone other than himself. 

So, you did the only thing you could do, ask. 

“How do you benefit from this? It seems burdensome to take on a complete stranger who may have a disposition for high potential. But there’s no guarantee that my nen ability is anything other than this.” 

Clearly, the man wasn’t used to his authority being question—although it wasn’t in your intention to do as such, you could see how it could be construed that way—and seemed to regard you in a new way. He was obviously amused by your honesty and total lack of trust in him and his intention. You didn’t see how he could blame you though. No honor among thieves was a saying for a reason and you very much doubted that him and his ragtag group of thieves, professionals and highly regarded in the underworld be damned, were just going to pull a 180 and do something out of the kindness of their hearts. At the end of the day, a thief was a thief and their word usually meant little. That was something you father had taught you early on. You had been too trusting as a child, wanting to see the good in everything, regardless of the bad. 

“But papa, that doesn’t mean they’re all bad.” A much younger you had said innocently enough as you father had dragged you away from the group of older girls who had been trying to exploit your generosity. 

“No, it doesn’t but you also need to realize that the majority of people do not have good intentions.” Crouching down in front of you, he’d grabbed on your shoulders and made you look directly into his eyes. “And those who never do, never will. Do you understand? You need to understand that you are very valuable, and to the wrong people could be a great bartering chip to be used against others. Make sure you can’t be.” 

You honestly hadn’t understood exactly what he meant, but the message had stuck and several years later, you had known what he meant by it. People who proved themselves worthy of your trust could have it…but you always needed to keep it in your head that there were those who, despite proving themselves as friends, could be masked foes and you needed to have a plan in place should that occur. More often than not, you wondered if you were actually the wolf in sheep’s clothing simply masquerading as docile and inept, when really…you were probably the most calculating and tactile in the room. 

“And what’s to say that you won’t use what I teach you against me, against us?” He asks, and you know he means it rhetorically, but you can’t help your biting response. 

“You wouldn’t ever give me the opportunity.” Your response is lightening fast, coming out before he truly has even finished his question and you know you have truly piqued his interest now, again making you wonder how people truly viewed you. “I told you, I was raised for the sole purpose of being a formidable opponent to anyone who tried to harm by future husband…my mother was not lenient in her pursuits.” 

“Indeed…that certainly is becoming clearer now.” 

You’d come to an agreement with Chrollo. He, and the rest of the Troupe who wished to partake in your training, would do as such. He had already told you that his methods did not truly align with the “generally approved instruction” of other masters, but then again…when did anything he did? 

But as of now, he told you to relax. Take a shower, get some food, sleep, he or one of the other members would come and find you once they’d returned back from the mission he’d sent them on. As for him, he had other things to attend to. His offer still stood, he’d said before he’d walked out the door, that should you choose that you did not want his help or that of the Troupe, he would respect it, but advised you to be gone before anyone got back or the training began. Because after that point, leaving was going to require you going through the front door and would more than likely be a battle with whomever was blocking it. Whether that be him or a different member, he didn’t specify, and you didn’t ask. 

You were currently sitting in the tub; in the room he’d showed you as your own. It reminded you a lot of the room you had at the home your parents owned in the country. It overlooked a beautiful garden in the back and had windows that faced the east, so when the sun rose, you would too. There was an en-suite attached that was larger than you had ever seen before. Shower, tub, separate toil area, two sink vanity, and walk in closet to boot. You knew they had money, despite his comment that “money, power, and fame were not” what drove them to do what they did, it was clear that their endeavors were clearly not fruitless…no, not at all. 

The moment you realized you were alone, you’d crawled into the tub, clothing and all and cranked the water to as warm as it would go and just sat there as the water rose. While you had a thousand thoughts zipping through your head…you couldn’t seem to latch onto one in particular, just staring at the water blankly. 

You thought back to the comment he’d made when you’d walked back into the study after his little experiment. Apparently we didn’t get all of the auction items. While yes, that was true, they hadn’t gotten all of them as there were different rounds and the items showed up in waves so they wouldn’t be vulnerable to a heist—or so Yuuto had explained when you’d asked—the items for the first round had all be within the lot of goods the others had brought back. And you didn’t take Chrollo for wanting silly things like rare videos games…although it was a high ticket item. 

So, all you could deduce from that was that this was a trap. A poorly set one, and one you were certain he’d already figured out but still, the members he’d sent, unless aware were walking into a trap and the Ten Dons had an artillery of their own, with weapons you were led to believe could even take on the Phantom Troupe. 

Regardless of all of this information though…you couldn’t say you cared, nor did you care if you were questioned later as to whether or not there had been more items because while you didn’t think there were any, you couldn’t be certain, and it wouldn’t surprise you if there had been more. Someone didn’t become that powerful by being lax in their paranoia. 

Maybe you could learn and thing or two from that mentality.

You don’t know how long you sat in the tub for. At some point the water became cold and your clothes began to rub you the wrong way. Thus, you took them off, throwing them away from your body, drained the water and stared the process over again. 

Your skin was not only a pretty shade of pink and red, just about all over, but the pruning of it was beginning to feel uncomfortable not that it bothered you. It was a distraction, one you desperately needed. But it also made you think. 

Made you evaluate your circumstances and try to figure out what exactly your plan of attack was going to be; what you could anticipate being Chrollo’s and the rest of the troupes’ motives and actions from here on out…and how you could use all of those pieces to your advantage. You need to uncover their weaknesses and find a way to exploit them. Maybe there was someone who knew them and you could mutually benefit each other? 

“Think too hard and you might hurt yourself little dove.” Were you not as exhausted as you were, you might have jumped out of the tub when you heard Hisoka. No, instead you turned to look at him, leaning against the doorjamb leading into your room, idly shuffling through his deck of cards. 

He looked at you through his lashes, coy smirk growing on his lips as he sauntered forward and again, it struck you that had you not been so exhausted, mentally, emotionally…physically, you probably would’ve jumped up or screamed at him to leave. But you simply did not have any reserved energy left to consider your modesty a priority. 

You also doubted it would do you any good anyway. Hisoka didn’t strike you as the type to listen to a request like that anyway. He seemed to enjoy toying with people’s discomforts. 

“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing thinking.” You mutter, turning away from him and sinking further into the water, nearly causing it splash out of the sides. 

“Oh? Then what would you call it? Planning? Devising?” 

“I’d call it a jumbled ball of messy thoughts that benefit me in no way.” 

He hums at this, coming to sit on the floor beside the tub and you suddenly realize just how tall he is. The tub has to be at least two feet off the ground if not more, yet when he sits down, and slouches even, he’s still considerably taller than you. You would, under normal circumstances, have curled in on yourself in order to preserve your modesty. It was one thing for him to be standing in the doorway, your back to him and the hazy from the steam distorting your image in the mirror. 

However, with him right here, next to you, there is nothing distorting your nakedness from his peering eyes. A nakedness that no man, outside a physician for the Dons’, has seen. But for the fact that you are too exhausted to care, you do not move to cover yourself more than your arms already had. You hadn’t realized that at some point, you’d curled back in on yourself again…maybe your subconscious was more conscious than you realized. 

Despite all of this though, Hisoka turn himself so his back was towards you and in that moment you were struck by something. Most probably would’ve viewed this as trust, but you knew better. You hadn’t known this man for more than a moment. It wasn’t trust at all. 

It was a silent assertion of just how weak he viewed you. How weak they all probably viewed you. For some reason this pissed you off. Rage flared low in your stomach and raced through you veins and clawed at your throat, questing to lash out at the closest target. However, your mind was quick to act and quell those feelings almost as quickly as they appeared. He was right, you were weak and lashing out at someone that much more powerful than you was not only reckless, but just plain stupid. You’d accomplish nothing on your best day as it was, not even including the fact that you were currently exhausted. 

No, getting pissed off was misplaced in this situation…but it was a tangible force that could push you do work hard, to become a formidable opponent. 

One in which Hisoka would never turn his back on. 

As you both continued to sit there in silence, you couldn’t help but wonder if Chrollo had called him back to watch you. You thought it odd but not outlandish. You hadn’t taken Chrollo as a liar though and the offer to leave, while not something you were going to take him up on, seemed to vanish the moment Hisoka walked into the house or within a vicinity to spot you in your endeavors to vacate the premises before anyone got back. 

But then you thought about what Chrollo had said. Leaving before anyone got back and scoffed, shaking your head, wondering how you could be so thoughtless. 

“Something amusing little dove?” Hisoka poses, throwing another playing card towards the vanity. What he’s trying to hit, you’re not sure. 

“Just realizing how inept my critical thinking skills have been lately.” His hesitation in throwing the next card relays to you his peaked curiosity, although he says nothing. “Chrollo told me I could leave should I chose to, but I had to do as such before anyone got back or prove that I was worthy of walking through the front door. At the time I thought nothing of it, assuming when he suggested I shower and sleep, that I’d have time to do those things. When you walked in, I wondered if he’d been lying but thought that odd because…I didn’t sense him lying.” 

You pause and chuckle again. “No, he wasn’t lying…he just also wasn’t being entirely truthful either. He just left out the fact that you and whomever else returned with you wouldn’t be long after he left. Had I been paying attention, been thinking I would’ve caught that. I’m not entirely sure at what point I either reached such a level of exhaustion…or decided you lot were trustworthy enough to not care.” 

The revelation had you looking up from your hands and the man sitting beside you. It also had you wondering what his purpose was for coming into the bathroom. You knew, now, that Chrollo hadn’t ordered him back; hadn’t given him instruction to watch you. No, Hisoka had come here of his own volition and you the question as to why was picking at your brain…and paranoia. Why would he come here? There was a piece to this puzzle that you were missing, and you couldn’t decide if it was because you just didn’t have the information or if it was again to your own obtuseness. 

The thought niggled at the back of your head, running through scenario after scenario. Did he have a connection to someone you knew? Someone you had known? Was he a double agent working for the Dons and was keeping your close so that he could return you to them? No, that didn’t seem likely…but not the double agent part. You didn’t take him to follow orders from anyone; he didn’t seem like the type to play to play well with others for long. 

“I’m starting to wonder if the steam is coming from the hot water or from in between your eyes little dove.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“What is it you don’t understand?” He questioned, throwing another card and this time putting some force behind it as it cut into the vanity and stuck. 

You were certain it was an intimidation tactic to indicate to you to tread lightly. 

“Why you’re in here. I know Chrollo didn’t order you to be here, there’s no reason to place a guard on me. I’m sure he texted everyone telling them I wasn’t going anywhere, regardless of whether I’d come to that conclusion myself prior to or after he’d sent it. And I don’t take it anyone would just…wander in unwelcome. I’m sure there’s something, some presence around meant to keep those who don’t know better away…and those who do, a warning of fleeting life. And I’m not interesting enough to truly pique your interest. Maybe after I’ve spent some time learning nen and training. But as it stands, right not I’m of no consequence to you and so I don’t understand why you’re here.” 

Taking in a deep breath, you realize that he’s completely stopped throwing the cards, and not because he’s out. No, he’s caused four more cards to stick to the vanity. The King of Spades, the King of Aces, the King of Diamonds, and then the Queen of Hearts are all standing up and a feeling goes through you that you can’t place. It warms you, and yet makes your blood run cold all at the same time and leaves you feeling a little lightheaded and dizzy. Maybe you’ve been in the bath for too long. 

“You’re very perceptive little dove, more perceptive than anyone has realized…certainly far more intelligent than you’ve been given credit.” He stands and plucks the random card from the vanity, along with all those he scattered haphazardly on the floor but leaves the Kings and Queen. “I look forward to seeing how you ripen little dove. I’m certain that you will become…especially sweet when this is all said and done.” He chuckles lowly and in the back of his throat, the effect making you shudder, and not in a pleasant way, as he begins to leave before pausing and turning to look at you over his shoulder. 

“I do have a question for you little dove.” He says and you hum, indicating that you’re listening. “What do you know of Illumi Zoldyck?”