#<- eva put that in my brain a while ago

[agentjepsen]

listen. listen. it shouldnt be superwholock. a crossover that would fuck severely would be supernatural torchwood and xfiles.

#xfiles and torchwood especially.. oh my god #<- eva put that in my brain a while ago #idk what the name would be. superwoodfiles? supertorchfiles? torchfilesnatural? #man idfk #/revelation

[ira-hydrangea]

Replaced Au? Not really.... Final Part

That night, Eva disappear. The only one that knows what happened to her is only a few students.

Mc cure has been healed and now they try to heal after that terrible illness while also learning about magic.

No one talks about Eva and Mc is too busy trying magic and getting fascinated by their power. The boys watched in the background with a fond smile.

"You know... I never see Eva again. Where did she go?" Mc, asks suddenly. The first-year group stay silent before they look at Mc in confusion.

"Eva? Who is that?"

"Eh? you know that another magicless student beside me? You guys are the ones that introduced her to me." Mc explains while looking equally confused.

Deuce smiled awkwardly, "Um... We never accepted any new student."

"Yep. Besides, who wants to transfer in the middle of the semester?" ask Epel.

Ace smirk at Mc, "perhaps that long sleep really messed with your memory, Mc~. Did you need to go back to sleep to retrieve the memory?"

Mc pout before huffing, "...maybe. Ah! Just forget it."

"I once heard that anyone tends to confuse reality and dreams after a long illness. Maybe we should get you checked with Malleus or Lilia just to make sure." said Jack.

Mc then agree and followed them to get checked with Malleus. After that, they try to ask others and the answer they got is the same as their first-year group. So they decide to drop it and just accept that they just dreaming about that Eva person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A mysterious girl starts to wander around aimlessly in some town. When she got evacuated and get questioned, she can't even remember anything. And the only thing, she mumbles is the loss of heart. The investigation team tried to discover anything about the girl but there not a single piece of data appeared. No one knows her identity and her case created so much conspiracy.

The close piece of information they can closely match is the lost girl file that come 100 years ago. While their characteristics match each other, there is no way the lost girl can survive that long without aging. And so, the case is deemed as Unsolved Case.

The girl then gets put in so kind of mental institution for further investigation and observation while the police try everything they could to figure out her identity and what happen to her.

The end.

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

Okay. This series has finally finished. It's short, I know. But I didn't want to make a long fiction about this one or I can easily lose interest 😅.

I like to say that the 'rest of the story can be imagined later.' You guys can send a brain rot about this chapter and I can answer them while enjoying my holiday trip. Just don't expect me to answer it every day.

I will continue the event later after the new year. Thank you so much for you that have requested it. Now I'm officially closing the event for 1.100 followers!

I see you guys in the next piece of writing. Byee~

Taglist:

@ladykitsunesworld @shutsuyuri @lilqi @fancyhawk45 @probablynoposts @justakiro @blue-yucca @love-thanatopsis @sxftiebee @salty-salty @zlatolait-writes @feiktn @redrosetrappola @littlewitchwonderland @ilikefanfics4 @deemayaz @unre-lated @deessenya @viostar2095 @sumiko0-0 @clovers-anxiety @fluffimemes @celestialbluebed @deadflycomputerlogs @percea @mouchie @nadjababygirl @migirizuki @h3apm3ch4n151m @rebloging-everything @crazyyanderefangirlfan @mikkies @iameliseposts @chay2 @ravenkake @r4mshackle @valeriele3 @maxx0inwonderland @kiznax

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #ira answer #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland replaced mc au #replaced mc au

[beliell]

Monster headcanon playlist - a summary - part I

Hi, everyone! A week ago I’ve decided to make a Monster (Naoki Urasawa’s work) playlist, available now on Spotify

This posts it has not only been created to share this sum of songs but to illustrate more about my decision of why to choose some of the musics as well. It contains my personal opinion about the masterpiece but canonical events as well.

75 songs were added into that playlist, but I’m going to give a raise on the 10 top songs (5 songs in this first part of post), dividing into english songs and german/russian songs. Yep, german/russian songs ‘cause I believe this representation it is very important to the drama and It’s something I didn’t see in other playlists (sorry not sorry)

Disclaimer: We all know that Monster focus on the German and Czech events, but the choice to add specific Russian songs instead of Czech were mostly personnal.

Let’s go!

1. ‘HOME’, by Heems

All I got is the sweater that you left, the letters that I kept, That spoke of how you liked when I kissed you on the neck, And I held you as you wept, Yeah, I held you as we slept, I held you as we crept, I've been a mess since I met you, I regret you, You could say I love what's regretful. You got me, I get you, If I could, I'd forget you, But I can't since I've left you, I let you, If I could, I'd forget you, I would be more forgetful. When it's cold outside, yeah, I miss you, But we had too many issues.

Err...I don't even have to explain this first one. The end of the relationship profoundly marks Eva, who develops depression and alchool issues as a way to deal with it, throught the drama. Tenma it is severe impacted as well, but more in a 'rush' away, as slowly losing all establish that he had one day as a men.

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

2. ‘Erschießen’, by IDEAL 

Komm, wir lassen uns erschießen, zwei Schüsse mitten ins Gehirn. Komm, wir lassen uns erschießen, ich hab nichts zu verlier'n. Komm, wir lassen uns erschießen, Sonntag morgens 5 vor 10. Ich kann den Sonntag nicht ertragen, und ich will keinen Montag sehn.

TRANSLATION: (🇩🇪)

Come on, let us be shot, two shots right into the brain. Come on, let us be shot, I don't have anything to lose. Come on, let us be shot, on sunday mornings 5 minutes before 10. I can't stand sundays, and I don't want to see mondays anymore.

Err...I won't even loose more than one paragraph about this one.

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

3. ‘Goodbye Horses’, by Q Lazzarus

He told me, I've seen it all before, I've been there, I've seen my hopes and dreams, A lying on the ground, I've seen the sky just begin to fall, He say, "All things pass into the night", And I say, "Oh no sir, I must say you're wrong, I must disagree, oh no sir, I must say you're wrong", Won't you listen to me.

This is a song that I've listening to since I've discovered that were on 'The Silence of the Lambs (1991)' OST.

This book it’s very special to me and it is totally referable to the Urasawa's works due to psychological link they both have. Also, this lyric seems to me like a intimate mono-dialogue between Tenma, who represents hopes and Liebert, the tragical twin, conducting the conversation.

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

4. ‘Roman Candle’, by Elliott Smith

'He played himself, Didn't need me to give him hell, He could be cool and cruel to you and me, Knew we'd put up with anything.

I want to hurt him, I want to give him pain, I'm a roman candle, My head is full of flames, I'm hallucinating, Hallucinating.'

It represents rage in a sum, right? The first parts reminded me of Bonaparta and the twin's relationship, so much abuse they've got into and how Liebert as kinda of develop to support a lot of problematic aspects of the worst in the human bein.

    The secound part tho..reminded of Tenma. He was writed to simbolize Light, but we all know that it wasn't something he always got right. His rage for all the crimes that Johan was commiting while transforming his life in a living hell...well, that wasn't something easy to perform throught it, we all know that.

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

5. ‘Was Hat Dich Bloß So Ruiniert’, by Die Sterne

Wo fing es an und wann? Was hat Dich irritiert? Was hat Dich bloss so ruiniert?

      TRANSLATION  (🇩🇪):

Where did it start and when? What irritated you? What was it that ruined you?

Mostly about child abuse and the consequences of it. The Grimmer arc gave me deep sad chills about those children experiments and how he manage to survive throught it.

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

The first part ends, I hope it was a good read. Remember, click here to listen to the playlist

#monster #anime #manga #kenzo tenma #johan liebert #anna liebert #nina fortner #eva heinemann #wolfgang grimmer #grimmer #naoki urasawa's monster #naoki urasawa #playlist #rock #instrumental

[meirimerens]

I do. I do I do love, because your discussion of The Big Man (Farkhad) reminded me of it. How architecture plays into the different characters in Pathologic and how each one is like, slightly to the left of the other. The twins, for example, each have very similar traits but very different ways of wearing them. Peter is Wet Rat. He's willow trees and flowing water and tall towering structures that make you feel insignificant but at home at the same time. Andrey is Dry Grass. He's a champagne bottle uncorking and raw red earthenware clay and the strange coziness of enclosed spaces deep within the ground. They're both home, they're just home.... Slightly To The Left. Y'know?

oh now we're fuckin talkin baby. warning not sure how coherent i'll be i got really heated/excited over eva like 30 minutes ago and now i have a massive headache from it. ok

we speaking of the twins let's speak of the twins. they are so similar physically, identical bar a few things (they're the same model!!) and yet there is an uncrossable ridge between them. that ridge, peter mentions it having been there since what seems to be farkhad's death. guilt, right? right. the ridge. the rift. whether it pokes upwards or downwards it sets itself between them. fence. door. locked. someone has the key(s). (someone(s)?)

peter, indeed, if of the wet variety. i wouldn't say a rat, i'd say a cat, or maybe a fish, a catfish with the long mustache and the pained expression. he is M.C. Escher drawings. you know Escher? everyone needs to check out escher. mind-bending, barely-prehensible spaces that, somehow, make sense. That, as you've said, feel like home. hey, i'll tell you: that's patho 1 to me. patho 1 is complex, verbose, obscure and kinda esoteric, and when game journos talk about p2 being ~sooo weird~ i chuckle. they haven't met her sister. and p1 is my fave. my home. she is bent and twisted in ways my brain deeply love. home. right?

both of the twins are the Vertical (as opposed to farkhad's horizontal/sprawling. right?). Peter is the above. the tall. Tower, Stairs. He speaks of his head having hit the belly of the sky (not in these words, but he does). the thorns of his crown can't pierce through the underbelly of the clouds. too thick of a beast. like a white whale... his while whale? Andrey is the below. The spear of the Tower. sword in the earth's flank like a matador putting a bull to death. the broken heart in the bowels of earth. (as above / so below... you know the phrase? they dabble in their own type of magic. they dabble in curses, but they bring some on them instead. spells can be made into rope by knots; maybe that's what andrey's p2 necklace is.)

they're deeply codependent, right. that's their situation. the broken heart is peter's home because that's where all the twyrine is from. twyrine, his closest relationship. but it's his home Slightly To The Left. it's underground whereas he lives above. It poisons him slowly. (softly, maybe).

fuck it. Stillwater's a home Slightly To The Left; weird, quirked, spiraled, inhabited, then haunted. the Lair's a home Slightly To The Left, stuffy, haunted too, but you can rest. Name me a place in ToG that's not haunted. Name me a person that's not haunted. everything... everyone has a room inside. or the space to have a room inside. who fits in? what fits in? some characters have the curtains drawn. shy. no peeking.

#you get my problem #ok stopping here bc i'm making less and less sense oopsie daisy!!!!!!! #i think one of the reasons patho and its spaces/homes hit real close to me is cos #my grandpa was an architect right. so i know. oooh the love and the grief. they're in a very same house. and they shape everything inside #like hands or bulldozers would... #ring ring (answers) #anonymous #ENOUGH. ok #andrey lore #peter lore

[thot-writes]

Hello! It is I!! A nickname, huh? How about.. 🐉? Or if that’s taken 🀄️ :D

And now for another request.

Louis is shy. We all know this. So how about we torture the poor boy a little with embarrassment and jack him off in a place you could get caught super easily. Perhaps at his desk surrounded by his piles and piles of books or maybe in the hot spring. Where ever your lovely mind decides to put them~

YESSSS THATS PERFECT 🐉 ANON!!! god u think MY mind is lovely?? jacking louis off in a hot spring while the others are there is such a fuckign S tier idea i’m absolutely losing it

also sorry it took me 10 years 😳 love u….

louis gets his dick squeezed in the hot springs and EVERYONE IS THERE (18+ NSFW);

he should’ve known that you were intending to tease him when you sat so close to him in the hot spring.

he stupidly figured he was safe because everyone else was in the spring— yakumo, mia, io, davis, rin, coco, even jack and eva were there. how could you want to do.. that kind of stuff when there were so many other people there?!

the spring was mostly quiet. occasionally a conversation would stir, but it’d quickly die down again and be replaced with a sweet, comforting solitude.

you and Louis sat off to the side, his head rested on your shoulder and your head rested on his, fingers interlocked beneath the water’s surface. it’s peaceful.

but your monkey brain is always running a mile a minute, especially with Louis so close to you. he’s so pretty you always want to touch him.

you unlock your fingers from his and trace them over his flaccid cock. the towel that was wrapped around his hips has been pushed to the side.

Louis’ eyes widen in surprise and he jerks upright. “What—what are you doing?” he asks you.

you shrug one shoulder and smirk. “Don’t react so much. You want everyone to know how hard you’re getting?”

he bites his tongue and looks away. he’s already at half-mast, damn his hormones! and damn you for teasing him so much.

his face burns bright red and you use your free hand to guide him to you. you tuck his head into your shoulder and he gratefully hides himself in the crook of your neck.

“You’re so cruel…” he whispers, pleasure tingeing his words. “The others are going to find out for sure.”

“We’re on the other side of the spring, don’t worry so much my sweet boy,” you coo in his ear. he wraps his arms around your waist and whimpers quietly.

he’s fully erect in your hand now, and you tighten your grip on his cock. he tenses against you as a moan slips out, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

“Does it feel good when I treat you like this, pet? Do you like it when I touch you here?” you ask him, your voice barely above a murmur.

he sighs against your skin and squeezes you tighter. “Y-yes… I like it, Mistress…”

“Dirty little slut,” you chuckle, and he winces. “You were against this just a minute ago, now you’re saying you like it?”

his hips twitch up into your hand. he doesn’t know why (and to be honest neither do you) he gets so turned on when you degrade him. it gives him a rush he’d never really felt before, and the meaner you are the hotter he gets.

“Oi, you two alright over there?” comes the voice of Yakumo. Louis subtly turns his head to see that everyone is looking at you, and his stomach drops.

you’re unfazed. “Yeah, he’s just got a headache that’s all. We’ll probably get out soon so he can get some rest,” you reply easily. beneath the water you’re stroking his engorged cock with more fervour, prodding at the slit in the head with your thumb.

Louis has to keep his eyes closed to stop anyone from seeing them rolling back. his whole body feels impossibly hot, and the urge to cry out is a strong one — but he manages to keep it in.

the others seemed content with that answer and you see them lose interest. “Sounds like a good idea,” Rin says with a nod. “Louis has been working hard these past few days, he needs a good night’s rest.”

you smirk as he squirms against you, his lips parting to release a whine that never comes. “That he does.”

“Please…” he begs, his voice a quivering mess. “I-I’m gonna cum soon… so—”

you hum in his ear. you continue to jerk his cute dick as you gather his towel with your other hand. it’s an awkward position, you feel much like an inconvenient tangle of limbs, but Louis’ mind is too overwhelmed to care.

you bundle the towel just above his tip as he bucks shamelessly into your hand. “Mmh, it’s coming out— I’m cumming, I’m c—”

his white hot seed spills out of him, and you manage to catch most of it in the towel. he tenses hard against you, biting down almost painfully on your shoulder to muffle his cries, and slowly the tension fades.

he pulls away from you and wipes the beads of water from his face. he’s still hopelessly blushing, and you’re struck dumb from how cute he is.

“Are you feeling better, Louis?” you ask innocently. “We should get you into bed. You’ve had a long night.”

he simply nods, eyes downturned, and answers. “Yes. You’re right. Thank you, [Name].”

you bid everyone goodnight then lead him out of the springs and back to his room, where Louis is in equal parts horrified and delighted to learn that his night has just begun.

#reader insert #my posts #reader input #dom reader #code vein x reader #code vein smut #louis amamiya x reader #code vein headcanons #code vein scenarios #code vein imagines #x reader #louis amamiya

[infernalrevenge]

The Lovers, The Dreamers, and Miranda

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Mother Miranda x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: T (for mentions of emotional manipulation)

Summary: Mother Miranda forged a psychic connection with you to test your loyalty. Now she has to deal with you pining over her.

Notes: A series of points basically on how I think this premise would go down, because the idea won't leave my head but I can't form a coherent plot out of it. Also hey, first time writing for Mother Miranda :P

----------

You've been a loyal servant to Mother Miranda for years now, maybe even decades. The both of you lost track after the first three.

She has always been grateful for your devotion and hard work, and wants to ensure that nothing ever happens to you as long as you are useful to her.

You were one of her first Cadou experiments, and though you were not compatible enough with the Megamycete to become Eva's host, the mutation you developed was very effective in ensuring her rise to power in the village.

Power was what she needed to succeed, after all. She needed it all to get her Eva back.

And your power of getting into people's thoughts was exactly what she needed to convince people that she was their savior -- as a prophet of the Black God, she would deliver them from death and disease. With her, they would no longer suffer.

But then how would she ascertain that you would never turn on her? Easy. Using the mold and your assimilated DNA, she forged a connection with you that allowed her to peek into your innermost thoughts.

If you were thinking of it? She would know. Sometimes, she would even know of things you don't even have a full picture of yet, lacking the coherency or energy to dwell on it at the time.

In this way too, she can peer into how you look into everyone else's thoughts -- you've become her middle man to a world once inaccessible to her.

Sometimes it can get overwhelming for the both of you, but while you were caught unaware of what she had done, you wouldn't have minded at all either way.

You saw her mission as noble, and you understood the cost of it. To think all she wanted in return was her daughter to be safe and sound in her arms once more.

You admired her determination and dedication to her cause, as well as the love she held for Eva -- that she would give up anything and everything for her.

You had become a confidante of sorts while in her service, being the only one to know and understand her goals, her dreams, and her desires.

Somewhere along the line, you realized that you would do anything and everything for her. You would sacrifice even yourself just to see her smile again.

You had fallen in love with her.

You've wanted to tell her for so long, and have come close to confessing a time or two, but something stopped you.

Every time you tried, she would say something about being so close to the prize that she had to keep going, that she couldn't stop now when Eva was practically in her grasp. She couldn't afford any distractions or obstacles. She had to keep pushing... just a little farther.

So you would wait.

You'll wait until she was ready to hear it from you, and wait until you fully had the courage to tell her how you feel. Eva came first.

You had become so good at burying those feelings that unearthing them had become a feat for Miranda, and curiosity got the better of her.

She was... confused.

When did all of this even start? Why were you feeling this way? Why her, of all people?

(If you could hear her own thoughts in return, you might reply with something like "Well have you looked at yourself?" to put it briefly.)

At first, she thought it was an unintended side effect of being around each other for so long and becoming so in-tune with your thoughts. Perhaps she was reading into this too much. This was mere infatuation, this would go away with time.

But every time you looked at her, there was this gleam in your eye, this joy that she couldn't comprehend. The feeling only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

Oh fuck.

Oh no.

How to deal with this???

Though she started wanting to avoid you to quell the awkwardness she felt in your presence (which she didn't know was entirely her fault), she realized it would be difficult to do so considering how closely you two always worked together.

(This was what she got for meddling with your privacy.)

Meanwhile, you were oblivious to the problem that she caused.

Sometimes you would smile at her and think about how grateful you were to have her here, to be a part of her life. How beautiful and wonderful she was, despite what the others may say. She was still human at the end of the day, and you saw that side of her quite often.

Then she starts overthinking about what you could possibly mean by that and if that meant you were this close to telling her the truth right then and there, about how you've had to keep your knees from buckling every time the two of you got close and how she took your breath away without even trying, and OH NO WERE YOU BLUSHING, STOP THAT-- (Why did she think it looked cute???)

She's seen some of your tamer daydreams and fantasies, a range from talking about your shared interests outside of work, taking trips far from the village, to holding her hand... pulling her into a warm embrace... cupping her cheeks and leaning in for a ki--

OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH FOR NOW (was it getting warm in here?)

Imagine how she reacted to the more risque thoughts, ehem ehem.

If you ever found out about this, you would find it hard to believe that you managed to fluster the Mother Miranda at the thought of sharing a kiss.

All the while she stares at you frantically, sweating under her cloak... and you have no idea what could be running through her mind.

You've picked and prodded at every brain in the village, even with Miranda's "false children", but not hers. Never hers.

She was the only one you respected here, and your allegiance to her had been right and true from the very first day.

Somehow knowing how sincere you were with her made things even worse.

Not that she feels guilty (okay maybe a little bit) but the fact that your love for her was so raw and pure? How you wanted to get to know even more of her underneath her grand facade? That you would do anything to see a genuine smile out of her?

She doesn't know how to handle that.

She herself hasn't felt that in a while. She thought her capacity to love had died with Eva a long time ago.

But looking at you now, as you talked with her and listened, knowing how much you meant it every time, that you wanted her to be happy.

She might actually start believing in it again.

#mother miranda x reader #mother miranda #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #cw emotional manipulation #is anyone gonna get why i titled it this way #psychic connection -> rainbow connection -> the lovers the dreamers and me -> the lovers the dreamers and miranda #that was my thought process tadaaaaa

[kaile-hultner]

Nihilism is so easy, which is why we need to kill it

(I initially published this here a couple weeks ago.)

So last night it dawned on me that, after over two years of being relatively symptom-free, my depression snuck back up on me and has taken over. It’s still pretty mild in comparison to other times I’ve been stuck in the hole, but after 24 months (and more) of mostly being good to go, I can tell that it’s here for a hot minute again.

How do I know? Well, it might be the fact that I spent more time sleeping during my recent vacation from work than I did just about anything else, and how it’s suddenly really hard for me to stay awake during work hours. I don’t really have an appetite, and in fact nausea hits me frequently. I don’t really have any emotional reactions to things outside of tears, even when tears aren’t super appropriate to the situation (like watching someone play Outer Wilds for the first time). And I’ve been consuming a lot of apocalyptic media, to which the only response, emotional or otherwise, I can really muster is “dude same.”

For a long time I was huge into absurdist philosophy, because it felt to my depressed brain like just the right balance between straight up denying that things are bad (and thus we should fix them, or at least try to do so) and full-blown nihilism. This gives absurdism a lot of credit; mostly it’s just a loose set of spicy existentialist ideas and shit that sounds good on a sticker, like “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

In the last couple years, while outside of my depressive state, I went back to Camus’ work and found a lot of almost full-on abusive shit in it. Not toward anyone specifically, but shit like “nobody and nothing will care if you’re gone, so live out of spite of them all” rubs me the wrong way in retrospect. The philosophy Camus puts out opens the door for living in a very self-destructive fashion; that in fact the good life is living without care for yourself or anyone/anything else. The way Camus describes and derides suicide especially is grim as fuck, and certainly I would never recommend The Myth of Sisyphus to anyone currently struggling with ideation. That “perfect balance” between denial and nihilism is really not that perfect at all, and in fact skews much more heavily towards the latter.

Neon Genesis Evangelion has been a big albatross around my neck in terms of the media products I’ve consumed in my life that I believe have influenced my depression hardcore. It sits in a similar conversational space to Camus’ work, in that it confronts nihilism and at once rejects and facilitates it. A lot of folks remark that Evangelion is pretty unique – or at least uncommon – in its accurate portrayal of depression, especially for mid-90s anime properties. The thing I notice always seems to be missing in these discussions is that along with that accurate portrayal comes a spot-on – to me, at least – depiction of what depression does to resist being treated. This is a disease that uses a person’s rational faculties to suggest that nobody else could possibly understand their pain, and therefore there’s no use in getting better or moving forward. Shinji Ikari is as self-centered as Hideaki Anno is as I am when it comes to confronting the truth: there are paths out of this hole, but nobody else can take that step out but us, and part of our illness is that refusal to do just that. Depression lies, it provides a cold comfort to the sufferer, that there is no existence other than the one where we are in pain and there is no way out, so pull the blanket up over our head and go back to sleep.

Watching Evangelion for the first time corresponded with the onset of one of the worst depressive spirals I’ve ever been in, and so, much like the time I got a stomach virus at the same time that I ate Arby’s curly fries, I kind of can’t associate Evangelion with anything else. No matter what else it might signify, no matter what other meaning there is to derive from it, for me Eva is the Bad Feeling Anime™. Which is why, naturally, I had to binge all four of the Evangelion theatrical releases upon the release of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon A Time last month.

If Neon Genesis Evangelion and End of Evangelion are works produced by someone with untreated depression just fucking rawdogging existence, then the Eva movies are works produced by someone who has gone to therapy even just one fucking time. Whether that therapy is working or not is to be determined, but they have taken that step out of the hole and are able to believe that there is a possibility of living a depression-free life. The first 40 minutes or so of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 are perfect cinema to me. The world is destroyed but there is a way to bring it back. Restoration and existence is possible even when the surface of the planet might as well be the surface of the Moon. The only thing about this is, everyone has to be on board to help. Even though WILLE fired one of its special de-corefication devices into the ground to give the residents of Village 3 a chance at survival, the maintenance of this pocket ecosystem is actively their responsibility. There is no room or time for people who won’t actively contribute, won’t actively participate in making a better world from the ashes of the old.

There are a lot of essentialist claims and assumptions made by the film in this first act about how the body interacts with the social – the concept of disability itself just doesn’t seem to have made it into the ring of safety provided by Misato and the Wunder, which seems frankly wild to me, and women are almost singularly portrayed in traditionalist support roles while men are the doers and the fixers and the makers. I think it’s worth raising a skeptical eyebrow at this trad conservative “back to old ways” expression of the post-apocalypse wherever it comes up, just as it’s important to acknowledge where the movie pushes back on these themes, like when Toji (or possibly Kensuke) is telling Shinji that, despite all the hard work everyone is doing like farming and building, the village is far from self-sufficient and will likely always rely on provisions from the Wunder.

As idyllic as the setting is, it’s not the ideal. As Shinji emerges from his catatonia, Kensuke takes him around the village perimeter. It’s quiet, rural Japan as far as the eye can see, but everywhere there are contingencies; rationing means Kensuke can only catch one fish a week, all the entry points where flowing water comes into the radius of the de-corefication devices have to be checked for blockages because the water supply will run out. There is a looming possibility that the de-corefication machines could break or shut down at some point, and nobody knows what will happen when that happens. On the perimeter, lumbering, pilot-less and headless Eva units shuffle around; it is unknown whether they’re horrors endlessly biding their time or simply ghosts looking to reconnect to the ember of humanity on the other side of the wall. Survival is always an open question, and mutual aid is the expectation. Still: the apocalypse happened, and we’re still here. The question Village 3 answers is “what now?” We move on, we adapt.

Evangelion is still a work that does its level best to defy easy interpretation, but the modern version of the franchise has largely abandoned the nihilism that was at its core in the 90s version. It’s not just that Shinji no longer denies the world until the last possible second – it’s that he frequently actively reaches out and is frustrated by other people’s denials. He wants to connect, he wants to be social, but he’s also burdened with the idea that he’s only good to others if he’s useful, and he’s only useful if he pilots the Eva unit. This last movie separates him and what he is worth to others (and himself) from his agency in being an Eva pilot, finally. In doing so, he’s able to reconcile with nearly everyone in his life who he has harmed or who has hurt him, and create a world in which there is no Evangelion. While this ending is much more wishful thinking than one more grounded in the reality of the franchise – one that, say, focuses on the existence and possible flourishing of Village 3 and other settlements like it while keeping one eye on the precarious balancing act they’re all playing – it feels better than the ending of End of Eva, and even than the last two episodes of the original series.

I’m glad the nihilism in Evangelion is gone, for the most part. I’m glad that I didn’t spend roughly eight hours watching the Evamovies only to be met yet again with a message of “everything is pointless, fuck off and die.” Because I’ve been absorbing that sentiment a lot lately, from a lot of different sources, and it really just fuckin sucks to hear over and over again.

It is a truth we can’t easily ignore that the confluence of pandemic, climate change, authoritarian surge and capitalist decay has made shit miserable recently. But the spike in lamentations over the intractability of this mix of shit – the inevitability of our destruction, to put it in simpler terms – really is pissing me off. No one person is going to fix the world, that much is absolutely true, but if everyone just goes limp and decides to “123 not it” the apocalypse then everyone crying about how the world is fucked on Twitter will simply be adding to the opening bars of a self-fulfilling prophesy.

We can’t get in a mech to save the world but then, neither realistically could Shinji Ikari. What we can do looks a lot more like what’s being done in Village 3: people helping each other with limited resources wherever they can.

Last week, Hurricane Ida slammed into the Gulf Coast and churned there for hours – decimating Bayou communities in Louisiana and disrupting the supply chain extensively – before powering down and moving inland. Last night the powerful remnants of that storm tore through the Northeast, causing intense flooding. Areas not typically affected by hurricanes suddenly found themselves in a similar boat – pun not intended – to folks for whom hurricanes are simply a fact of life. There’s a once-in-a-millennium drought and heatwave ripping through the West Coast and hey – who can forget back in February when Oklahoma and Texas experienced -20 degree temperatures for several days in a row? All of this against the backdrop of a deadly and terrifying pandemic and worsening political climate. It’s genuinely scary! But there are things we can do.

First, if you’re in a weather disaster-prone area, get to know your local mutual aid organizations. Some of these groups might be official non-profits; one such group in the Louisiana area, for example, is Common Ground Relief. Check their social media accounts for updates on what to do and who needs help. If you’re not sure if there’s one in your area, check out groups like Mutual Aid Disaster Relief for that same information. Even if you’re not in a place that expects to see the immediate effects of climate change, you should still consider linking up with organizing groups in your area. Tenant unions, homeless organizations, safe injection sites and needle exchanges, immigrant rights groups, environmental activist orgs, reproductive health groups – all could use some help right now, in whatever capacity you might be able to provide it.

In none of these scenarios are we going to be the heroes of the story, and we shouldn’t view this kind of work in that way. But neither should we give into the nihilistic impulse to insist upon doing nothing, insist that inaction is the best course of action, and get back under the blankets for our final sleep. Kill that impulse in your head, and fuck, if you have to, simply just fucking wish for that better world. Then get out of bed and help make it happen.

#Neon Genesis Evangelion #existentialism #philosophy #media criticism #cultural criticism #spoilers

[ritsushinbro]

My Critique of Rebuild of Evangelion's Characterization: I originally wrote this post on the Evageeks forum and decided to post it here. It discusses the relationship between Misato, WILLE and the pilots and whether it is realistic and in-character. Warning this post contains spoilers and is very long. Also has references to self-harm and suicide.

With each revelation that comes out regarding the measures WILLE take against Shinji and their own pilots, it becomes more and more unrealistic for me to the point where it's almost comical. Let's go through some of them here:

They wear the explosive DSS chokers 24/7 which will kill the pilots should they risk awakening an Eva.

They are kept in a single room rigged with explosives.

In Shinji's case, he is (intended to be) put in 24/7 solitary confinement with explosives fitted as well.

Shinji is escorted around the wunder whilst restrained on a stretcher. (NOTE: The only time he isn't, is when Sakura takes him to Ritsuko).

It is confirmed in another thread that Misato gave clear permission to the crew for them to shoot Shinji on sight if they suspect he is attempting to get into an Eva. 

Now let me attempt to deconstruct these measures one-by-one:

It is understandable that Asuka and Mari wear DSS chokers because after all they are pilots and there is a risk of awakening. However in Shinji's case, he is forbidden from piloting and so there is no risk of awakening (remember Ritsuko did not think NERV would come after him, so they had no reason to think he would escape). So why place the DSS choker on him? Well we have already established it is simply because they have a resentment against him; there is no special, pragmatic reason. Is this realistic? Well I would say no for reasons I will explain later but I can certainly understand why others may say it is.

I don't think I will understand why they would keep their two main "soldiers" if you will, in an explosively rigged room. I believe others have  stated that from a tactical point, it's an extremely dumb move on WILLE's part. After all, if Asuka and Mari didn't have plot armor, what's to stop Gendo from tricking WILLE into killing their own pilots with these explosives? How would WILLE stop Gendo then? Will they use Shinji? No, for reasons I will state later. And another thing, we know that their rooms were already fitted with explosives so why on Earth would they add extra after the events of Q (when they stopped 4th impact). What do they hope to achieve with more bombs? Make the pilots more "deader" than they already are? In my opinion, this doesn't even come across as paranoid but just plain childish. Is this measure realistic from a story standpoint? No not in my eyes.

We know they intended to put Shinji in a solitary cell as this is what they do in Shin. If it was solitary confinement on it's own, then I believe it would be a realistic measure that would happen in real life. However I believe the writers did not factor in the effects of solitary confinement (especially one that is rigged to explode) on fully grown men; never mind a 14 year old who's just come out of a 14 year coma. Many people think solitary confinement is a walk in the park so I made another post a while ago highlighting why that's not the case:

"I remember when before Shin came out people here theorized that if Shinji stayed on the Wunder, they would eventually softened to him and let him help in ways that wouldn't have involved piloting. However with these revelations it looks like they intended to keep him in an isolated room far from everyone else that is (presumably) rigged with explosives as well as keeping the choker on his neck. Not even allowed to freely leave his cell without WILLE's permission (it is unlikely they would let him out judging from these measures). 

Even though Asuka and Mari were treated like this as well, at least they had each other and were able to leave as they had responsibilities in piloting. But Shinji was forbidden from piloting and was to be kept by himself except maybe being checked up on by Sakura now and again. So judging from these leaks (we will have to wait to properly see the full context) WILLE intended to lock Shinji in solitary confinement.

I have copied and pasted some of the effects of Solitary Confinement from Wikipedia below:

“Psychiatric: Research indicates that the psychological effects of solitary confinement may encompass "anxiety, depression, anger, cognitive disturbances, perceptual distortions, obsessive thoughts, paranoia, and psychosis." The lack of human contact, and the sensory deprivation that often go with solitary confinement, can have a severe negative impact on a prisoner's mental state that may lead to certain mental illnesses such as depression, permanent or semi-permanent changes to brain physiology, an existential crisis, and death.

Self-harm: According to a March 2014 article in American Journal of Public Health, "Inmates in jails and prisons attempt to harm themselves in many ways, resulting in outcomes ranging from trivial to fatal." Self harm was seven times higher among the inmates where seven percent of the jail population was confined in isolation. Fifty-three percent of all acts of self harm took place in jail. "Self-harm" included, but was not limited to, cutting, banging heads, self-amputations of fingers or testicles. These inmates were in bare cells, and were prone to jumping off their beds head first into the floor or even biting through their veins in their wrists. A main issue within the prison system and solitary confinement is the high number of inmates who turn to self-harm. Many of the inmates look to self-harm as a way to "avoid the rigors of solitary confinement."

Physical: Solitary confinement has been reported to cause hypertension, headaches and migraines, profuse sweating, dizziness, and heart palpitations. Many inmates also experience extreme weight loss due to digestion complications and abdominal pain. Many of these symptoms are due to the intense anxiety and sensory deprivation. Inmates can also experience neck and back pain and muscle stiffness due to long periods of little to no physical activity. These symptoms often worsen with repeated visits to solitary confinement.

Social: The effects of isolation unfortunately do not stop once the inmate has been released. After release from segregated housing, psychological effects have the ability to sabotage a prisoner's potential to successfully return to the community and adjust back to ‘normal’ life. The inmates are often startled easily, and avoid crowds and public places. They seek out confined small spaces because the public areas overwhelm their sensory stimulation.”

And this is just for solitary confinement. There are so many other things going on with and happening (or could happen) to Shinji such as the things below:

Shinji being only 14 years old.

Shinji being abandoned and neglected by his father.

Shinji being coerced/emotionally blackmailed to pilot Unit 1.

Shinji seeing girls he cared for "die".

Shinji being in a coma for 14 years.

Shinji being told he has a bomb on his neck.

Being told it is because he is being punished.

Being told he cannot pilot the eva anymore (he is effectively "useless" now).

Have his former co-pilot and friend try and punch him after he thought she was dead.

[Potentially] being told he started NTI and devastated the world.

[Potentially] being told that the girl he tried to save is "gone" and that she was a clone of his mother.

Being imprisoned in a cell (presumably) surrounded by explosives and not being able to freely leave.

Be completely isolated from everyone except when being checked up by a girl who's father he got killed. (NOTE: Mari might want to see him so Shinji at least has her, maybe). 

Have his mother figure (the woman who made him pilot the eva the most) threaten to detonate the choker around his neck and blow his head off when he tries to leave.

With the above list, is it any wonder his head is so messed up? I understand the purpose of these films is all about growing up and taking responsibility but expecting Shinji to willingly allow himself to be subjected to the treatment WILLE had in store for him is pure, unadulterated masochism. Much of what was is written here can safely be considered cruel, inhumane and arguably, torture. 

There is a massive difference between taking responsibility for one's mistakes and just letting the whole world torture you because you did something bad. My main fear and problem with Q and Thrice is that their main theme, which is accepting responsibility, is equated with accepting unreasonably cruel treatment. And I just think that is an EXTREMELY unhealthy message to send to people especially if they are depressed or live in abusive relationships."

When you take all these into account, does it place into perspective how messed up Shinji would have been had he stayed on the wunder? This is assuming that they thought they would never have a need for him, but as we find out in Shin, they needed Shinji in the end to defeat Gendo. If Shinji never left with Mark 09 and Misato successfully kept him "protective" custody, then one of three things would have happened when WILLE actually needed him to save everyone:

A: He would not have been in the mental state to pilot Unit 1 and Gendo would have completely wrecked him due to shit synch ratios. 

B: He would have told Misato and co. to fuck off and die. We've seen this nihilism before from Shinji (after the 5th angel). His incarceration alongside the humiliation and guilt from wearing the choker will have ratcheted up by a million.

C: He wouldn't have piloted because he would have killed himself. There's only so much a 14 year old can take and when subjected to a fate that causes even hardened criminals to resort to self-harm, genital mutilation and suicide, then what chance does Shinji have? 

Now back to my original point, do I think this measure is realistic? I would like to say yes if it was the solitary on it's own, however when combined with the other things, then I think the chances of Shinji commiting suicide is extremely high to the point where it's not believable for him to continue as an anime protagonist. You have to make sure the protagonist goes through difficulty in order to experience growth and change, however if you make it too harsh (to the point of committing suicide) then it seems less believable that they live to continue the story. On a separate note, many people think that Shinji was immature for leaving with Mark 09 the first chance he got and that this is proof that he is, in Asuka's words, a "brat". But let's be realistic, if this story is about Shinji's growth and maturation, then how exactly would WILLE's treatment of him be conducive to that? The truth is WILLE's sheer hostility towards him would have completely stunted any emotional growth and maturation in Shinji and it would have destroyed the point of the film. Also no-one can argue that WILLE would have eventually "come round" or "softened-up" towards Shinji because even after 14 years they still don't trust their own pilots. So yeah, Shinji most likely would have been stuck in solitary with a bomb around his neck until he either killed himself or the war ended (but even this doesn't guarantee his freedom).

Regarding the stretcher business. I don't understand why you have to restrain Shinji on a stretcher when the kid has already surrendered himself and has come voluntarily. Maybe WILLE are just full of bondage fetishists; it would certainly explain the chokers as well. 

If the DSS chokers and the explosive rooms weren't enough, Misato actually gave orders to the crew to shoot Shinji if they thought he was trying to pilot again. At this point, I just think this is just overkill. I mean the kid has a bomb on his neck that prevents him from awakening an Eva, you intended to keep him locked up even though he can't really leave the wunder except with outside help and now you intend to shoot him if you think he'll get into an Eva. The problem with this, is that piloting an Eva requires all the bridge-bunnies to sortie the damn thing. Shinji cannot enter Unit 1 by himself, especially since the thing is being used as an engine so why do they assume that Shinji is capable of being Sam Fisher and sneaking into Unit 1? We see that Sakura and Midori are actually willing to shoot Shinji in 3.0+1.0 and do so when he merely suggests that he pilot Unit 1. But seriously what harm would Shinji have done in Unit 1 considering the fact that Gendo was already going to start another impact anyway? Why actively try and kill (or injure in Sakura's case) the only guy that can save your ass? One cannot argue that they were just being "desperate or panicking" because in Midori's case, she actually takes the time to confirm her orders from Misato. This shows that at least, she was still of lucid mind. This particular altercation just beggars belief in my mind and the fact that Misato actually gave those orders on top of all the other measures is absolutely extraordinary. So as you can imagine, I do not think this was realistically executed.

However, I can already hear some detractors say: "So what? Misato hesitated to detonate the DSS choker and also took a bullet for Shinji. She redeemed herself from putting the DSS choker on him and the kill-order for if they thought he would try and get into an Eva." 

And to those people I say….not really. There is an idiom attributed to Benjamin Franklin and it goes like this: "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." How does this apply to Misato and Shinji's relationship? Well Misato wouldn't have had to hesitate to pull the trigger if she didn't put it on him in the first place. Misato wouldn't have had to take a bullet for Shinji, if she didn't give permission for the crew to shoot him in the first place. Let's take this following dialogue for example:

916-929:

Kitakami: "It's a good thing we got Major Shikinami back. But why'd we have to take that disease along with her?"

Aoba: "Just leave it alone. Better than Nerv still being able to use him."

Tama: "If he tries to get into an Evangelion, all hands have permission to shoot on sight. There's nothing to worry about this time."

Kitakami: "Come on, that's all for show. The last time he broke out of here, the Captain couldn't put him down. I've got zero trust about this time either."

Nagara: "He was a kid. I can understand why she'd hesitate."

Kitakami: "That 'kid' caused Near Third Impact and murdered my entire family!"

Hyuga: "Near Third was a consequence of what he did, not his goal. The Captain's doing her best to atone for that too."

Takao: "That's right. She's who Kaji entrusted with Wille, and it's our job to trust the captain."

We learn a few things from this dialogue. Firstly, the older WILLE members are much more understanding to Shinji and Misato's situation: Aoba and Hyuga understand that it's better to keep an eye on Shinji and that he never meant to start NTI, Takao is one who always trusts Misato's judgement and Sumire understands that Misato would have found it difficult to kill a child, especially one that Misato was close with. 

Secondly, it appears that the younger WILLE members (Midori, Sakura and Tama) are the ones that are fearful/hateful towards Shinji (NOTE: Tama is a strange case, he strikes me as the sort of kid that just follows what everyone else is feeling. He might not feel anything towards Shinji beyond what you'd expect). 

Finally it appears that most of WILLE crew members are actually reasonable people and are not the extremely desperate and paranoid individuals some people on the forum believe. Remember this is AFTER Shinji started the 4th impact in Q. The fact that some of the WILLE crew members speak of Shinji in this way, show they are capable of understanding. Most actually trust Misato and respect her judgement except for Midori, who questions Misato's capabilities in following through on her threats. 

Which brings me to my next point. Misato has had no hesitation in pulling rank in the past. In 2.0, she even has an altercation with Ritsuko, her best friend, right before they fight the 8th angel. Misato is a woman that will tell even her best friend to STFU, when it comes to doing what she wants. Having said that, (timeskip shenanigans aside) there's no reason why she couldn't have done the same with the younger WILLE crew members. She could have nipped all of it in the bud by telling Sakura, Midori and the rest of them that Shinji was groomed to cause NTI and it was not his fault.

Instead, despite being the captain that everyone loves and fears, she kowtowed to the crew's paranoia and had the pilots fitted with explosive chokers, put in explosively rigged solitary confinement and gave the order to kill Shinji if they feared the worst. This is the sort of thing that drives fully grown men to suicide, never mind 14 year olds that have just come out of a coma. Imagine if Shinji did commit suicide in his cell. Who would Misato and WILLE have turned to in order to defeat Gendo in the end? What if Gendo tricked WILLE into killing their own pilots with the explosives? They would be properly screwed then. If Misato actually cared, as we are led to believe from her hesitation to kill Shinji, then she would have told the rest of the WILLE crew to fuck off, instead of alienating and putting Shinji and the pilots in that much risk. Are we really expected to believe that Misato placed such extreme countermeasures on Shinji just to appease Midori and Sakura? Not likely. This is why I believe that Misato would not have put the DSS choker on Shinji in the first place, and her doing so in Q was extremely unrealistic and out of character, even with anything that happened during the timeskip.

Some of you will say: "Who cares about realism? It's a show about aliens and growing up." While this is true, Anno has proven that he is able to pull the themes off much better when you look at the NGE series. Disregarding the self-contained narrative, it is obvious that the purpose of Q was to bring Shinji to the same point he was at after episode 24 of the series. If we look at how NGE/EOE handled Shinji's depression, we see that it is quite realistic:

The neglect and coercion by the adults in his life, almost dying to angels multiple times, the sexual tension with Asuka, almost killing Touji, finding out Rei is a clone of his mother, Misato putting the moves on him and having to kill Kaworu all culminate towards Shinji's mental state during EOE. Shinji is passively suicidal but it's due to the *situation* and his own introverted tendencies instead of people actively trying to hurt and isolate him. He finds the will to live again due to his mothers words despite knowing just how difficult living might be. If you remove all the Evas and the Angels from the story, the themes that are touched upon (isolation, neglect, misunderstanding) still apply and the audience can still resonate with them. 

The rebuilds however go about it completely differently. They bring Shinji to that same suicidal state by having all the characters/plot actively harm Shinji's mental health by:

Putting him in a coma for 14 years so he is completely clueless. Imagine how groggy you are when you wake up in the morning and then multiply that by a million. 

Have Misato psychologically castrate Shinji by telling him he won't do anything with a look of disdain on her face.

Have Ritsuko make Shinji feel dread by telling him he has a bomb on his neck and it's because he is being "punished".

Not tell him why he is being punished when he asks Misato.

Have Asuka try to punch Shinji after he thought she was dead.

Tell Shinji the girl he saved is "gone”.

Have his "mother figure" threaten to blow his head off for wanting to leave with the girl you just told him is gone.

Have Asuka and Mari attack Shinji in Lilith's chamber even though Shinji was seemingly willing to listen to them had Asuka not kept attacking. (Watch that scene again and you'll see when Asuka learns what Shinji is trying to do, she stops attacking but instead of explaining that he's being manipulated, she just calls him a brat instead).

Even Mari was willing to potentially kill or cripple Shinji with the Anti-AT rounds. (We don't know what the AA rounds are truly capable of because the only time they are used on screen, they don't work. The round cartridges state that they are armor and AT field piercing and have explicit restrictions on their use. The fact that Mari requires Asuka's explicit authorization to use them imply that they are most likely lethal and would have killed/crippled Shinji had he been in a normal Eva). 

Have Shinji's friend's head explode with the device Shinji's "mother figure" actually meant for him. Imagine seeing someone's head explode and then remember that your "mother figure" actually meant that to be for you. That would certainly mess anyone up.

Have Asuka then kick and manhandle him when he is catatonic.

Have Asuka force feed him to the point where he pukes whilst he is still grieving the death of his friend. 

Have Shinji only be escorted whilst tied to a stretcher despite him coming voluntarily.

Have Misato place Shinji in 24/7 solitary confinement in a cell rigged with explosives.

Have Misato tell the WILLE crew to shoot Shinji on sight if they think he's getting into an EVA.

Have people tell Shinji that he's being a brat the entire time for reacting badly to all this.

By having Misato, Asuka, WILLE reject and "punish" Shinji so harshly so it kicks off his isolation and desperation, it makes Shinji's "recovery" seem less believable. Anno himself didn't even know how to make Shinji recover psychologically in 3.0+1.0 and he actually had to ask the voice actors on how to make that happen. The story made the WILLE crew go full scorched-earth and in doing so made Shinji's "growth" and his reconciliation with Misato seem impossible. 

I have already stated that I believe Q represents "Condemnation" and Shin represents "Compassion" and I think both films pull that off brilliantly. But that doesn't mean I think the characters acted in a realistic manner. I do not believe that Misato would have placed such harsh sanctions on Shinji in the first place for the reasons I have stated above. And if she did, I do not believe that Shinji would have easily forgiven Misato (even IF she took a bullet for him) as we see he does in the film. I do not believe that WILLE were merely "scared and desperate" because as the dialogue above shows, they are surprisingly understanding (but still disapproving) of Shinji's situation despite him literally starting another impact. I do not believe that Misato would have bent over to Sakura and Midori's resentment and taken measures against Shinji, just to ease their minds. 

In summary, my main problem with the post-timeskip rebuilds is that I feel they gaslight the audience in thinking that Shinji was just being a "brat" the entire time by having Asuka and Mari say: "You have grown a little/You smell like an adult now." However, the truth is Shinji's been through so much mental suffering perpetrated by the people he cares about, that it's a miracle he's not killed himself. It would certainly break most of us on this forum. The movies seek to show Shinji "finally" taking responsibility when the truth is, the plot went so above and beyond putting him down in such an extreme manner in the first place.

#evangelion #nge #nte #rebuild of evangelion #evangelion 3.0 you can (not) redo #evangelion 3.33 #evangelion 3.0+1.0 #misato katsuragi #shinji ikari #asuka langley shikinami #mari makinami illustrious #ritsuko akagi #3+1 spoilers #spoilers

[searchingwardrobes]

It’s Been . . . a DAY 2/3

One month a few days, and finally I bring you chapter two! Sorry for the wait. Are you ready for Killian to have a bad day? And maybe a certain blonde makes it better?

Summary: Emma Swan bursts into Killian’s life in spectacular fashion - when her three year old pees on his office floor. Nevertheless, Killian is mesmerized by this tenacious woman. Perhaps fate will let them cross paths again …

Rated: G

Words: Just a bit over 2k in this chapter

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Chapter Two:

“That’ll be $2.50.”

It’s an innocuous statement, or it normally would be, but Killian has just escaped the office after a particularly nasty run-in with Zelena Green. Escaped her demands for the most ridiculous tax deductions (with no receipts, mind you) along with her shrill screeching and her terrifying claws - ahem, manicure - so swiftly that he apparently ran to the coffee shop empty handed. 

“Um . . .” Killian’s panic mounts as he pats his jeans pockets and then his leather jacket with no success. “I think,” he chuckles awkwardly and throws the barista a lopsided and charming (he hopes) smile, “I forgot my wallet.”

The barista simply arches a brow at him, communicating quite clearly that she is immune to his wiles. She braces her arms on the counter and leans towards him.

“It’s still $2.50.”

He clutches the to-go cup in his hand so tightly that it threatens to pop the lid. 

“I heard you, lass, and I plan on giving you the money. I just need to run back to the office -”

“You’re not going anywhere until you give me two dollars and fifty cents.”

For a moment, he wants to snap at her, but he learned long ago that he can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. He leans his hip against the counter casually, lowers his gaze a bit, and gives the barista his best smolder.

“You’re a good worker . . .” he finds her name tag, “Ashley. I admire that. I promise you can trust me. My office is only down the block. I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Or I’ll never see you again. Just give me the damn $2.50. I got my pay docked last week for the tinder being short, and I sure as hell won’t let it happen again.”

This is clearly not his day. 

“$2.50 you said?” a voice over his shoulder asks. 

Killian spins, recognizing that voice. His eyes widen with joy when he sees none other than Emma Swan standing there with a sparkle in her green eyes and a smirk on her lips. She leans around him to set her cup beside his. 

“Just put his on my bill,” she tells the barista.

“I can’t let you do that,” he starts to protest, but Emma lifts a hand to stop his words. 

“It’s the least I can do after . . . well, what happened to your floors.”

He chuckles lightly, and she blushes even as she shakes her head and lifts her gaze to the ceiling as if to say what’s a mother to do though, right?

“Fine by me,” Ashley says with a shrug, ringing up Emma’s purchase. “So that’ll be $6.15.”

Killian grimaces inwardly - this is a local place, and the prices are steep - but Emma doesn’t even flinch as she scans her card and then takes the receipt. She turns to Killian with a smile, holding out his to-go cup. 

“I am in your debt,” he tells her. 

Emma rolls her eyes and waves her hand. “Are you kidding? We’re even now.”

Killian racks his brain for a way to prolong this little encounter, but before his mind can connect to his vocal chords, Emma turns to the bar that holds the cream, sugar, and various shakers of spices. He hovers, his brain still refusing to cooperate, as she removes the lid of her cup and shakes some cinnamon on the swirls of whipped cream inside. He practically jumps when she ends up breaking the awkward silence first. 

“You see, I didn’t really mind adding your $2.50 to my order. That’s nothing in this place.” She snaps the lid back on her cup and turns to face him. “Let me guess, regular coffee, black?”

He nods, a smile curling his lips as he takes a sip of said coffee. “Aye. And yours is?”

“Hot chocolate, actually. Most expensive thing on the menu besides the pastries, which is just unfair, in my opinion.”

Their gazes connect over the rims of their cups, and Killian catalogues the new information. She prefers hot chocolate over coffee, with whipped cream and cinnamon. 

“That doesn’t happen to you often, does it?” she asks.

“Forgetting my wallet?”

“No, your charm not working.”

Killian tilts his head back and laughs. Then he saunters closer to her, bends his head, and lowers his voice. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She doesn’t seem to be visibly affected by his flirting in the least. Instead, she tosses him a casual smirk, one eyebrow arching. “Perhaps I would.”

His heart hammers in his chest as he searches her eyes. This woman is a bloody marvel. He had seen it even when she was falling apart in his office, and it’s even clearer now when she’s the one in control. His gaze falls to her lips, and he can’t help wetting his own. Abruptly, she clears her throat  and takes a step back. 

“I . . . uh, I really need to get back to my stuff.”

She hurries over to a table by the window and starts gathering up a laptop and some books and papers. A highlighter marker falls off and rolls across the floor. Killian picks it up and hands it to her. 

“Thanks,” she mutters, color staining her cheeks. 

“Work?”

“Uh, no,” she stammers, tucking hair behind both ears, “it’s school. My current job sucks, quite frankly, so I’m trying to get my degree.”

“That’s admirable,” Killan tells her sincerely. “In what?”

“Dental hygiene,” she wrinkles her nose adorably. “I know that’s stupid.”

Killian frowns. “Why in the world would you say that?”

Emma shrugs. “I mean, who likes teeth?”

He arches both brows as he bites down on his lower lip. “I can think of some reasons people would.”

She rolls her eyes again and smacks him in the arm. “You know what I mean!”

They both laugh then as he rubs at his arm exaggeratedly. “Okay, seriously, dentists like teeth. I mean, I assume they do.”

Emma shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, maybe some, but mostly I think they just know it will make them lots of money.”

“And that’s why you want to be a dental hygienist?”

Emma lifts her messenger bag and loops it over her shoulder. “I don’t need to be rich, but secure would be nice. I want to give Henry a good life, you know? And dental hygiene is steady work, steady pay, and good hours.”

Emma doesn’t seem to mind when Killian walks beside her as they leave the coffee shop. 

“You’re a good mother, Emma. I still fail to see where any of that is stupid.”

She hitches the bag further up her shoulder, then takes another sip of her hot chocolate. “I don’t know. Aren’t I supposed to be studying something I’m passionate about? Instead, I’m being completely pragmatic. All I need for this career is an associate’s degree, which will take way less time and money.”

“I think we put way too much pressure on people to find a career - a passion, as you say. At the end of the day, a job is pragmatic. We need money to live, and a job gives us that.”

“Is that why you became an accountant?” Emma tilts her head and studies him as she asks the question. “You don’t seem the type. No offense.”

He scratches behind his ear. “None taken. And yes, I make good money at it, so that’s part of it. Liam and I went our entire childhood barely surviving, so we both vowed to change that when we were old enough.”

“I get that,” Emma mutters into her cup of hot chocolate. Killian wonders at the comment, but doesn’t press her. 

“I do like numbers, though, so does Liam. We both excelled at that when we were in the Navy, and . . .” he shook his head. “It’s a dull story. We’ll just use the cliche the rest is history.”

Emma laughs, a free and easy thing in the early spring air, and Killian wants to hold onto it. For some reason, he gets the impression it’s a rare sound from her. 

“I suppose going to school for accounting is about as interesting as dental hygiene.”

“Well, then, here’s to making a living,” he tells her cheerfully, extending his coffee cup. 

She taps it with her cup of cocoa. “To making a living.”

They both sip, the air becoming charged again as their gazes linger. Then Emma glances over his shoulder, and her eyes light up. 

“Flowers!” 

She hurries over to the sidewalk display and picks up a bunch of snowdrops. “These are Mary Margaret’s favorite,” she said with a smile. 

“Really? Elsa loves them too,” Killian says, gently touching a delicate white blossom. “Who is Mary Margaret?”

“My sister,” Emma tells him, her smile fond, “foster sister, technically. Eva and Leopold adopted me when I was twelve and Mary Margaret was sixteen. I was a terror, let me tell you.”

“You had been through a lot of pain, I’m sure.”

Emma studies him for a moment, slight surprise lighting her eyes. “Yeah, I had . . . but the three of them loved me anyway. And now, well, Mary Margaret is both my sister and my best friend. She and Eva both watch Henry for me while I work and study.”

“What about Leopold?”

Emma buries her nose in the snowdrops, “He passed away when I was still in high school.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Emma gives her head a quick shake. “The point is, Mary Margaret and Eva are both the absolute best. I don’t know what I would do without them. David’s not bad either, I guess.” She chuckles fondly.

“David?” He assumes by her laughter that he isn’t a boyfriend. Please don’t let him be a boyfriend.

“Mary Margaret’s husband. They’re newlyweds and completely nauseating.”

Killian treasures each tiny nugget of Emma’s life and files it carefully away. He wants to know so much more. How did she come to have Henry? Why is she raising him alone? What pain was she forced to endure those first twelve years of her life? Though he can imagine that last one fairly well. He and Liam had spent nearly that long shuffled from home to home after their mother’s death, Brennan Jones never wanting to take responsibility for his sons. 

“I want to buy these for Jones & Jones,” Emma tells him, “as a thank you.”

“We’ve told you that it was no trouble. Besides, you bought my coffee, remember?”

Emma shakes her head. “I’ve been meaning to come by with flowers all week, but I was just too embarrassed. Please let me.”

Killian nods, albeit a bit reluctantly. He guesses that Emma is on a tight budget. She said her job sucks, and she’s caring for a toddler while also putting herself through school. He’s sure the small family she mentioned helps when they can, but still, she already spent over six dollars at the coffee shop, thanks to him. However, he can already see that she is a lass of great pride. He doesn’t want to insult her by refusing the gift. 

Emma purchases the flowers, and then she walks with him the rest of the way to Jones & Jones. Elsa exclaims over the flowers just as Killian expected her to, even enveloping Emma in a hug. Ariel hugs her too and asks about Henry. Even Liam is lured away from his desk, and he ends up showing off pictures of little Ian to Emma. He and Elsa swap funny stories about raising a three year old, and before long, an hour has passed. 

“Oh my God,” Emma suddenly gasps, “what time is it?”

“Almost five,” Elsa tells her. 

“Shit, I’ve gotta go. Mary Margaret is expecting me soon, and Henry gets cranky when dinner is late.”

Killian stands there like an idiot as Emma rushes out in a whirlwind, leaving her now cold hot chocolate on the edge of Killian’s desk. 

“Please tell me you asked her out this time,” Liam says once the door has shut behind her. 

Killian groans. He didn’t even get her number. 

“Maybe you’ll run into her again?” Ariel suggests, but there isn’t much faith in her voice.

Not that Killian blames her for her doubt. Fate gave him a second chance, and he doesn’t hold out much hope that it will give him a third. 

#cs #cs ff #modern au #first meeting #and second meeting? #mommy!emma #single mom emma #little henry #fluff #humor

[bondsmagii]

omg you read we need to talk about kevin? what did you think? i went through a whole range of emotions, most of them bitter & negative, bc i saw too much of my mum & brother in eva & kevin, something i’m still working through. i started off hating eva bc i projected my resentment towards my mum onto her, but i found myself sympathising with her a bit more towards the end. it’s helped me sympathise a bit with my mum too. this book has probably had the most lasting effect on me than any other!

man, I love that book. I first read it years ago and liked it then, but I recently reread it and I loved it even more. it's such a brilliant book -- profoundly uncomfortable and incredibly bleak, but I think it asks so many important questions that, face it, most people are too scared to even acknowledge. it simultaneously asks the huge taboo of a question -- what if you regret having your child? what if a child is just born bad? -- and also combines it with that other big question: why do kids shoot up their schools? the nature vs nurture debate has been absolutely raging for years regarding children who commit violence at school; as someone with an academic interest in this particular crime, it's one I've banged my head up against multiple times. people seem to always be firmly in one camp: the parents are to blame, or the kid is just evil. nobody seems to consider the interaction between these two things, and how it's always ultimately a choice.

the book is a pretty intense read for me, as I'm sure you can relate. the difference is that while you can see your mother and brother in Eva and Kevin, I actually see myself and my mother in Eva and Kevin. I was an unwanted and a resented child. my parents did not want to have me. I was what my parents referred to as "a surprise", said in the same tone as you would describe a sudden house fire as a surprise, or bad news at work as a surprise. the major difference between my parents and Eva and Franklin was that they had me very young (they would have been 19 and barely 20 when they found out, and 20 and barely 21 when I was born) and this most certainly added to the resentment. my father was always away for work, often getting to go to some pretty interesting destinations; my mother wanted to be the kind of woman who wanted to be a stay-at-home mother, but she hated it. like Eva and Kevin, my mother and I were very, very alike in personality and what we did and did not want out of life, and we were engaged in some level of warfare for my entire childhood. while I wasn't quite on the level of Kevin in terms of blinding my siblings and whatnot, I was quite the terror as a child. by the time I reached my teenage years I was uncontrollable and my parents had given up trying. I could not be punished. I did not care. any punishment they did hand out, I was maliciously compliant to the point of infuriation. I'm sure my parents could argue that I was born evil, and indeed that's what they told the extended family. I admit I was not an easy child. however -- I was a child.

I did not ask to be born, and when my parents made the choice to have me and then resent my existence, that was on them. a child knows. a child can tell when he's not wanted, when he's an inconvenience. I knew it very well, from an early age. my parents' resentment of me resulted in them abusing me right up until I left home. I was like an unwanted pet, except they couldn't dump me off at a shelter. no, they never laid a finger on me physically, so they can claim they didn't abuse me -- but emotionally and psychologically they were abusive, and especially in my teenage years, they neglected me severely. (think along the lines of being left at home alone for extended periods with no food, no money, and no way to get supplies as we lived in rural Ireland and the closest supermarket was 30 minutes away. this was not something they did out of malice, but rather something they did because they did not consider me at all. they forgot my existence, most of the time, or they deemed me so inconsequential that making provisions for me was a task that could be forever put off.) understandably this made me hate them in return, and I took great pleasure in being a little shit. it was all I had. nature vs nurture, which is it? my parents weren't exactly nurturing, and they taught me very bad behaviour -- but at the same time from the moment I was born I had my mother's personality, predisposing me to being a little shit. even now, grown up and after many years of working on myself, I still find myself fighting the urge to be as cruel and as judgemental as she could be; likewise I see those positive qualities she had, that she could have shown more of if she had put the work in like I had. we went from being furious carbon copies of one another to an example of the best and the worst case scenario.

basically what it comes down to is choice. Kevin and I had a similar situation going on, but Kevin chose to try and find what he was looking for in mass murder, and I chose to try and find it by getting out of my house and never returning. I mentioned earlier that I have an academic interest in the kind of crime that Kevin committed; since the age of 17 I have been researching these things, and now have expertise in several specific incidents. I bring this up to illustrate that this crime was on my radar when I was around Kevin's age, when I was suffering from the same problems as he was. thousands of kids find themselves in this position, yet so relatively few commit the act. why? it's choice. nature, nurture -- it doesn't matter. there comes a point where you have to make the choice, and honestly? it's chaos theory, baby.

as well as researching this kind of thing I'm also an amateur meteorologist. I love weather. I love trying to work out what makes it tick. and weather is a good example of what I'm trying to say here. weather cannot be predicted. we can get decent ideas, but at the same time we never really know for sure and also weather acts differently every time. there are too many variables. it's the entirety of the earth's atmosphere we're talking about here. identical weather conditions can arise time and time again, and each time the weather is different. a sunny afternoon one day is a washout the next. this is because -- and I broadly sum it up here -- there are so many tiny variables that we cannot possibly predict how they will change the weather. and I mean it's tiny variables. I'm sure you've heard of the butterfly effect -- this comes from the idea that a butterfly somewhere on the coast of Africa can flap its wings, and this tiny reverberation can spread through the atmosphere, creating a bigger and bigger ripple, until a hurricane smashes into the Gulf of Mexico. tiny atmospheric changes all interacting in ways we cannot imagine. this is why some kids shoot up schools. it's easy to look at psychology broadly, but no two people are ever the same. siblings growing up in the exact same house are not the same. identical twins, genetically identical to their very DNA, are not the same. tiny, tiny events, microdoses of chemicals in the brain, exposures -- they all change us in subtle ways. two people -- Kevin and I -- can grow up with almost identical familial issues and outlooks, but Kevin shoots up his school and I study my ass off and get myself to university to escape my parents. why? I don't know. I don't know what tiny little things might influence me one way and another kid in the other. personality, brain chemistry, waking up that morning and having enough or not -- I don't know. it's chaos theory. the variables are too small to say. nature vs nurture are only two variables out of millions. it's an oversimplification.

so to go back to the book -- who do I blame? neither of them. it was a perfect storm. we could say Eva didn't help, but I know of plenty of kids with decent parents who still committed such a crime. we could say that Kevin was just born bad, but there are plenty of people with his resentful outlook on life who don't commit mass murder, or any harm against anyone whatsoever. it's like how every tornado comes from a supercell, but not every supercell will spawn a tornado -- that final genesis point is unknown to us. we just can't predict it. there are no easy answers. there is no simple formula. we just don't know, and that's what makes Kevin's story -- and its real-life counterparts -- so terrifying.

#sorry for going off but this combines two (2) of my Major Academic Niches so you got the full 1hr lecture with slideshow i'm afraid #anon #asks

[sasa-gay-yo]

Just Us (Chapter Sixteen: Scars)

← Chapter Fifteen

At first, it was a little pain here and there. I would be handing someone their coffee and it would hit me, but not enough where I’d recoil. It was manageable and no one really noticed it besides me. This was usual too, nothing out of the ordinary. At night, I would get pains in my chest from thinking too hard, but of course, I thought it was just that. I would think over and over again about the green cape, it would give me a headache too. It was just my body overreacting. That was my explanation. 

Then, I dropped the coffee on my own hand, a small burn festering where the liquid had hit. The customer seemed concerned as I grabbed my chest and let out a groan. This time it was sharp, but it didn’t leave for a minute or two. I feigned that I was okay to the man, and went into the back holding onto the wall and taking deep breaths till it didn’t hurt anymore. I’d begun wrapping my hands again too. Without the rose balm, they started peeling again, and at this point, I didn’t have the time or effort to go to the capital and try to seek out the stuff. 

Jonas commented on it too. The way that I started rewrapping my hands. I told him that I was fine, but then he witnessed the chest pains too. That made him worried. 

“It’s almost summer, usually your hands are better this time of the year.” He lifted up the bags of wheat flour onto the backroom shelves as I had to rewrap my left hand after getting the bandages wet. 

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I was used to not working as much, but now since the café is back to normal my hands have to get used to it. Business is going to flatten out though, with the upcoming shortage.” With my right hand, I passed him the tag to put on the stock boxes and went to pick up a smaller box with my half-wrapped left. As soon as I got the box off the floor, a sharp pain hit my chest and I dropped the box on the floor, making the stitches open and spill sugar all over the floor. I was too busy holding my chest and coughing to even care about the lost money at this point. 

“Eva!” Jonas was next to me in seconds, trying to lift me up to standing. When he realized that wasn’t going to work as I was doubled over in pain, he pulled up a chair to let me sit. He kneeled in front of me after, trying to look at my face to see what was happening. That was when he saw me gripping at my chest.

“I-I’m o-kay,” I said through gasps as I was trying to mentally get rid of the elephant that was sitting on my chest, “w-w..water?” He nodded quickly, running back into the café to get me a glass. I heard the faucet running and Jonas say something to a customer before bursting back in. The back of the door hit the wall with urgency, and it echoed against the brick walls of the supply room. At this point, I had one hand gripping my leg, the fabric of my skirt bunched up in a fist, and the other hitting my chest to get some other stimulus going. Either way, I couldn’t drink the water. We just sat there in silence, my heavy breathing filling the room. I could tell with each passing minute, he was getting more and more concerned. My concern was growing too since this was the longest the chest pains had ever stayed. I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there when the pain got to a bearable point, but I knew it wasn’t like the previous thirty-second pains I’d get throughout the day. 

“What the hell was that?” Jonas finally said as I reached down to the full water cup. This was an indication to him that I was better, at least for the time being. 

“It usually,” I took another gulp of water to try and settle the dull pain, “It usually isn’t this bad.” His eyes widened and I knew I was going to get a lecture next. 

“You mean you’ve had these multiple times?! What is it?!” I shook my head, finishing the rest of the glass. The cold helps the pain go away. Another stimulus. I found out a few days ago that if I put an icepack on my head or my chest, it starts to help the pain. 

“I don’t know. I just get pain in my chest sometimes. I was planning to ask Hange about it when she comes back.” He seemed unhappy with my answer. 

“You get chest pains? When? Are you stressed? Did you eat? Are you sure it’s your chest?” I stood up, brushing my hands off. There was no time to answer his questions as I knew there were probably four or five people outside the stockroom door waiting to order. 

“I’m really fine, Jonas. When Hange comes back, I’ll take it up with her.” Again, he was unhappy with that. He was going to try to drag me to a doctor pretty soon if I kept brushing it off, but there was nothing else to do. I didn’t know why it was happening and it never happened before. As he said, it was probably stress… but about what, I had no clue. I just walked back out the door, cup in hand, and took the next person’s order while I expected Jonas to finish stocking the back room. Like I predicted, the next day, Ben was at my door with Jonas early in the morning. They knocked loud enough to wake me up and I greeted them at the door my eyes puffy and in my pajamas. The café wasn’t open, and they knew where the key was to open the door. They were just making a scene to make a point. 

“We’re taking you to a doctor.” I rubbed my eyes, making sure to not scratch them with the wrap I’d put around them to sleep. 

“I don’t need to go to a doctor.” Both of them shook their heads at the same time and Jonas pushed himself in, saying something about how they wouldn’t leave till I came with them.

“We set up an appointment for you in thirty minutes anyway. Get dressed.” Ben followed in and sat on the chair across from Jonas. It was like a mirror image, both of them with their arms crossed and frowns faced towards me. Even on the way there, their faces didn’t change. I tried to tell them over and over again that I was fine, and the chest pains were nothing to worry about, but they wouldn’t listen. 

“That’s what Dad said before he ended up in the hospital. You need to get it checked up, I’m not letting it happen to you too.” I rolled my eyes at Ben's care. 

“I’m not related to him, so I think I’m fine. I’m not going to develop heart failure at twenty-seven.” Again, they didn’t listen as they walked behind me, making sure I couldn’t stop or escape from them. I looked for an exit multiple times too, but at one point Ben had his arm around me almost strangling me to make sure I didn’t leave. 

Truth be told, I hated going to the doctor. 

Sitting in the tiny room, waiting for him to call us to his office was even more of a pain than my chest issue. I hated betting inoculated, I hated having people probe at my stomach, and I hated every time they would prescribe me some sort of salve for my hands and it wouldn’t help at all. The doctors in Trost were useless in my opinion. If anything, they were going to poke and prod and find nothing wrong with me. Then I’ll have a bill to pay and nothing to show for it. My legs were bouncing up and down just from waiting for so long. It was a rest day, why were we waiting this long for this old doctor to tell me nothing? I just wanted to go back and sleep more as I went to bed when the sun was rising last night.

“Flynn?” All three of us stood up, and I turned to glare at the men who pulled me here against my own will. 

“I’m going back on my own.” Before they could protest, and after I lightly kicked Jonas in the shin so he would sit down, I walked back into the office. It was always the same room. The doctor had his own desk and you would sit to the right of it where all his tools were. He would listen to your heart, have you breathe here and there, poke you, and then miraculously have a cure from all of that. I didn’t trust doctors. 

“Miss Flynn, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you here and as a patient. How is the café?” I put up a fake smile for Dr. Los. He was a nice man, but he was a doctor. All doctors are bad in my book. Besides, he would always prescribe me something for my hands that would burn and never worked. I bet that’s what he thought I was here for. 

“Well, it wasn’t on my own will to come back here, Dr. Los.” He seemed confused but got a tool out to do a routine check-up while he asked me what was wrong. I could already see him setting up the balm to mix. 

“Why were you forced here today? Deep breath in.” I took a breath as he put something on my chest to listen to my heart. Convenient. 

“I’ve been having chest pains recently.” He sat up and looked me up and down, his face finally showing his confusion. He reached over and listened to my heart once more for a longer period of time. The look didn’t drop from his face. 

“Well, your heart sounds fine and you don’t really have any visible symptoms. All I can see is that you’re tired. Perhaps it’s just stress on the heart from overworking?” He turned to his desk to write something down and I just shrugged. 

“I personally don’t think it’s that big of a deal, but Ben and Jonas both think it’s something. I was also going to consult with one of my friends who studies… body systems and functions, but they pulled me here first.” He rubbed his chin with one hand, looking down at his notes. 

“When you get chest pains, what are you usually doing? Strenuous activity?” I shook my head. 

“One time I was cooking, the other I was in bed and just woke up. The most recent time, yesterday, I was just talking to Jonas about something and it started. They’ll come for only a few seconds, a minute at the most, and then go away. It also helps if I apply something cold to my face or chest.” He nodded writing that down in some unreadable script before turning back to me. 

“How painful are they usually?” 

“Most of the time it’s just an initial shock and then dull enough where I can function well. This past time with Jonas it took a while for the pain to subside.” His hand went back to his chin. 

“And you said you were doing anything taxing or strenuous to the body or brain?” I looked up at the ceiling and thought about that one. I guess when I was talking to Jonas, I was thinking about Levi, but that didn’t seem to be a reason. While at night time, when I got the chest pains, I was thinking about Levi, but I think about him all the time in bed and they don’t always come. Then, I’d just get them randomly at the cafe and splash myself with hot coffee or flour. There was no correlation. 

“No, nothing, Dr. Los. Nothing that I don’t normally do.” He went and wrote down something again, before bringing his notes with him to look at the shelves of medicine behind his desk. Great, something else that won’t work.

“Have you been overly stressed recently?” 

“Not more than usual.” He looked over his shoulder at me as he reached for a jar of some powder.

“And how much stress is usual for you?” I had to give that to him, that was a good question. I had to think about how to quantify my stress level to answer him.

“Every day I try to wake up with the sun to go put pastries in the oven. I clean and stock the shop. People come in around seven in the morning and I serve them until morning rush stops at ten. I get deliveries, prep more pastries for lunch and early dinner. During that time, I serve people who come in and out until it gets heavy from eleven-thirty to one-thirty. After that, I clean for a second time, restock from back to the front, talk to people who come in and out, and then get the pre-orders ready for early dinner. Around four, people come in for early dinner orders and pick-ups, people order pick-ups for tomorrow, and then I close at five. The rest of the night, I’m cleaning and prepping bread or pastries for tomorrow morning. I find time at night to sit and read or talk to Jonas, then I go to bed and do it over again. I don’t know if I find stress in monotony, but when thinking it over, I’m not stressed much Doctor Los.” He sighed and started mixing something together on his little sterilized table and left me in silence to think about my routine and all the things I left out of it. I don’t sleep until an hour before the sun is supposed to rise. I stay up all night with restful thoughts. No medicine could fix that, so why worry him?

“Hearing your daily routine, I think your chest pains come from fatigue. Your skin color also isn’t too good, which shows how tired you are and maybe a disconnect from your liver. I’ll make you some pills here that will help you sleep, but if the chest pains persist, I encourage you to go to a doctor in Mitras who specializes in central issues. There’s little I can do here with the supply shortage. I’m sure you understand.” Even with millions of people going, Trost and the rest of the walls were slowly nearing famine again. All the tell-tale signs were there. Wheat and flour bags were getting smaller and more expensive, food was going away quicker, and soon everyone would have to limit themselves to one meal a day to survive. Even the café sales were going down and I was making smaller and smaller batches daily. People were naïve to think the only reason we had famine before was the refugees' fault when we’ve lost most of our land to the titans. There’s barely any land to farm in Wall Sina, so they have to rely on the farms around Wall Rose, just waiting for when the titans learn how to break through that wall too. It was a delicate situation. 

“Thank you, Doctor Los.” I took the glass bottle he handed me and walked out after saying goodbye. Jonas and Ben stood up right away and they seemed a bit relieved I came out with a bottle of something. 

“Lack of sleep and stress. He said to take these every night.” I held up the bottle and didn’t bother stopping as they followed me out. 

“That’s all he said? That doesn’t make sense. You were doubled over in pain yesterday.” I shrugged, waving to a café regular as we passed. Maybe I’d pick up Elias and June on the way home. 

“I’m not the doctor, Jonas. You can go back and ask him if you want.” My voice had taken on an annoyed tone. They took me to the doctor, the one I told them I didn’t need to see, and now they’re unhappy with the results. It’s almost as if I told them this would happen. 

“Did he say anything else about further treatment?” I looked over my shoulder at Ben, who was still concerned. His concern was more valid, however, since this is what happened to Mr. Flynn. One day, he was fine, the next he was keeled over having a minor heart attack in the middle of the café. I could see a hint of fear in his eyes. 

“He said if it didn’t get any better I should find someone in Mitras.”

“We can’t afford the doctors in Mitras.” 

“Well, we won’t need to go to one anyways.”

“Ev-”

“I’m fine, Ben.” He huffed as we reached the café and I was thinking about utilizing one of these pills to go back to sleep on my day off when I saw two familiar figures standing at the doorway, horses already tied up. A little pain hit my chest again, but this time it couldn’t have been because of whatever illness I had. 

“Commander Erwin, what brings you to our café today?” Ben was the first to greet him as we walked up, bowing to both Erwin and Hange. Erwin bowed back and looked over at me. The last time we had seen each other was on that expedition a few months ago. The weather was now warmer, indicated by only having on their cut-off jackets. Why had Hange brought him on an off day? She always comes on Thursdays. 

“We wanted to come to talk to Eva without being an intrusion to the business. I hope that is fine with you, Eva.” I smiled up at him as Hange came over to put an arm around my shoulder.

“Of course, Commander. You two can go back home now.” My eyes narrowed at the two men, hoping they would get the memo to finally leave me. I knew that if Erwin and Hange hadn’t shown up, they would have stayed to lecture me about my health. Jonas would have also morphed it into an excuse to lecture me about getting over past lovers and trauma. Jonas glared back at me but knew he couldn’t take precedence over Erwin or Hange. I kicked him out so Hange could stay over the other time.

“We’re having fish for dinner tonight if you want to come, Ev.” I nodded to Ben and he hauled Jonas over to turn back home. Jonas’s face told me that he’d press me to talk about this later, so I’d better come over for dinner.

“What’s in the bottle?” Hange grabbed it from my hand and inspected the contents. She could heal a titan bite, but she knew very little when it came to apothecaries. I told her the whole story as I unlocked the café and put down chairs for us to sit.

“Chest pains?” She asked again to clarify and I handed them both a cup of morning coffee, nodding. The glance she gave Erwin didn’t go past me. 

“Yeah, but it’s bearable. Maybe it’s the weather too. The doctor said everything seemed fine, but I just looked tired.” Erwin took a sip of his cup. 

“I will say, with due respect, every time I see you, whether a glance or a meeting like this, you do look more and more tired. Your color has changed too.” I said down, picking only a glass of water to drink. There might be a chance I still want to go to sleep after this, so I shouldn't indulge in coffee. 

“I guess I am more tired than usual. If business keeps going down though, it won’t be a horrible workload anymore. At the beginning of the summer, everyone wanted fruit. We’ll see if the sleeping pills work.” Hange learned forward. 

“So, you’re still not sleeping well?” She was more up-to-date on my ailments, and I could see Erwin’s eyes change when she said that. This was a recurring problem. I just held my water cup in two hands, trying to use the coldness to keep the dull sensation that was growing at bay.

“Yes,” I mumbled. She sat back and crossed her arms, seeming like she was assessing the situation at hand. 

“Because of the pain or because of…” It felt slightly uncomfortable that Erwin was here to hear everything. Besides Hange, he was the person who probably had the most contact with Levi. Were they telling these things to him? Or, rather, did he not care? I didn’t want to be stifling him when he still didn’t want to have anything to do with me.

“The second reason, yes.” It was even quieter than my first yes, and Erwin’s eyes sparkled in recognition. He could have guessed the second reason, regardless if he knew or not from Hange. He cleared his throat. 

“I’m sorry to bring up Captain Levi not knowing your remaining opinions on him, however at the least, he seems remorseful.” My heartbeat went a bit faster when he said that, giving me some sick form of hope. I gave up though. If he really was remorseful and regretted his actions, he would be back here sitting at his table. Even after he tried to give me his cape, he never showed up. 

“Well, if he’s so remorseful, Commander, then he can come himself. He’s had plenty of time.” They both shifted in their seats uncomfortably again. This was the second thing that made me feel uneasy and the pain in my chest act up again. I was trying my best to conceal it.

“Captain Levi has been dealing with certain things and is unable to come.” Erwin sounded terse and professional, which told me he was hiding something. It was insincere. 

“Has he been dealing with it for a year-and-a-half?”

“Have you been dealing with this for a year-and-a-half?” Hange gestured to my chest and I grabbed it instinctively. They didn’t answer my question. 

“No, it only started after the day we encountered you at the Trost gates. Back then, it was nothing, but now it’s…” Erwin sighed. 

“We should tell her now.” My panic shot up after that, seeing their somber faces. Hange was looking at Erwin to make sure she heard him correctly. It was an order, not a suggestion. My hand gripped my chest harder as she turned to look at me, pushing her glasses up. 

“Someone in the capital had given conflicting information about Levi. Conflicting criminal information. He’s been having to go back and forth, proving his innocence with each visit. Something happened recently, and he started getting migraine attacks as well. He sat out of our last expedition, but the capital sent MPs to come and take him back while we were gone. Apparently, there have been shocking developments on his case, enough to detain him. He’s yet to come back, but there have been reports given to us about his condition. While they verified that he isn’t hurt, he’s been stricken with migraines. That's what the report said. We haven’t been allowed to go and see him until a later date.” My blouse was balled up in my fist and I could feel another one coming. It was slowly creeping into my chest, the dull pain growing larger and larger with each hard beat of my heart. 

“What criminal information?” It was urgent, and she looked at Erwin again before telling me. He’d given her a nod of approval. I quickly drank water, holding the cup to my chest to try and alleviate the pain. This was more urgent. 

“Murder.” The cup dropped onto the floor, breaking into three pieces. I had to use both hands to grab at my chest. Hange was up first, coming to feel my temperature before putting her hand on my chest. 

“Irregularly fast, heart skipping beats, unable to breathe. Just like Levi, Erwin.” I tiled my head back and let out a groan of pain, not being able to breathe anymore. This was the worst it had been. It was harsh. Biting. My heart felt like someone had stuck their hand in my chest and was squeezing it as hard as they can. My body was going cold though. I couldn’t feel my legs or my hands, and grabbing at my chest did nothing. All I could do was look at the ceiling or Hange, trying to get confirmation of my condition. My hearing went next, only being able to see Hange yell something to Erwin as he dashed off behind me. What was happening to me? Another sharp pain came, and my body threw itself forward. I would have hit my head on the edge of the table if Hange didn’t stop my body’s descent. This time, she took me to the ground with her, trying to get an easier angle. She had her head on my chest, listening to my heartbeat and tapping it out with her finger. It scared me that I couldn’t feel the sensation of her tapping on my thigh. I could just see it happening. I could only see. I couldn't feel or hear. When Erwin put a rag on my head, probably wet with cold water, I still couldn’t feel it. 

I didn’t know why my body was reacting this way to hearing news about him. I hadn’t seen him in months, we haven’t exchanged words in length, and yet I was rolling on the floor in pain because of what Hange said. It had to have been my body reacting, not me. It couldn’t be me. My body must have just found a trigger point in Hange’s words, and released this pain for me to handle. It couldn’t be because of him. He didn’t care about me, so I didn’t care about him. Not this much. 

A hand went to my face, pulling it so I locked eyes with Hange. She must have realized that I couldn’t hear, so she mouthed her words slowly. 

‘You’re. Coming. With. Us.’ 

I didn’t have the ability to protest, and even if I could have, I wouldn’t have. Levi was gone, yes. He wouldn’t be at the HQ. I would be fine. I wouldn’t have to lock eyes with him again. I wouldn’t have to pretend like it didn’t hurt to think about him. To look at him and remember. He wasn’t there. I wouldn’t have to pretend. Not this much. Not like I normally do. Another wash of pain came over me, this time making me go into a fetal position, knocking the towel off my head onto the ground. At this point, I was having an out-of-body experience. Something was making me feel like I couldn’t control my body, and I was only to wither on the ground and watch from above. The only reason I knew I was still grounded was the fact that every thirty seconds, my heart would spasm again, causing me to let out a shout in pain. I heard my shouts loud and clear. Everything else was drowned out by them. Even when Erwin lifted me up in the air or put me in front of him on his horse, I was already so far gone in some primordial state that I didn’t notice. He had my face towards his chest, sitting with both of my legs over the side of the horse. This way he could probably control my shouts of pain when I couldn’t. 

At some point, my heart felt like the hand instantly crushed it. It was right outside of the gates of Trost when I lost consciousness. The hand around my heart squeezed as hard as it could, and it felt like it popped the organ as easily as a balloon. This was the most painful, and I hated that my body kept me awake to feel it. It felt like my heart was forcefully exiting through my throat encompassed in a shout I couldn’t hear. I lifted my face to the sky, feeling only the sky collapse with me. Rain hitting my face as I fell backward. My eyes forcefully closed, all the strength in my body had left along with the yell, and I felt like I was floating. The pain left immediately, or rather, I was finally numb enough where I wouldn’t have to deal with the spasms of my insides. With one more huff of air, I was out. Blackness. No sound. No sensations. Only darkness welcomed me into a light, pain-free embrace. 

His body was above, molding to mine. His lips were doing the same. Molding to my own, slipping a tongue in and out. I could feel my lungs call out for air, but I didn’t want to let him get away from me so soon.

He would be leaving tomorrow. 

Finally, he lost air, and broke apart from my lips, leaving only a centimeter of space, filling it with our breaths. In the time he had to breathe, he grabbed my leg, pulling it to wrap around his hip. His hand stayed there on the side of my thigh, not daring to slide closer to the rest of my body, no matter how much I wanted him to. I wanted him to do it. Do it all. After tonight, our domestic bliss would come crashing down, and I wanted this last night to solidify what we’d been doing these past few weeks. 

His lips were on mine again, his other hand weaving its way through my hair. My hands were wrapped around his neck, playing with the fresh undercut I’d given him in the bathroom moments prior. He moaned into the kiss when I pulled on the longer locks, and I tried my best to press my body back up into his. To feel every curve and ridge of his abdomen. It was my way of trying to let him know it was okay. I was willing. His lips detached from mine, leaving me breathless, as he continued his assault on my jaw, and then my neck, and then my collarbone. Going lower and lower. I moaned loudly when his mouth glanced over the one spot on my neck, his hot breath and tongue tickling my skin. He pulled my hair back, opening my neck up for an easier assault, and his hand reached down, playing with the buttons on my shirt. Well, on his shirt. He used his teeth to lightly scrape my collarbone, making me light on fire inside. 

“Levi,” I moaned loudly, trying to grab at his shirt, two buttons already done, to take it off completely, “Please! Let me feel you,”  I begged. All in one moment, his body froze on top of me and almost laid down on top of me, not hard, but enough so that I couldn’t reach to pull at his shirt again. With his body completely on mine, I could also feel the arousal tempting him pressed into my lower thigh. Yet, he was still, only his head in my neck. 

“I… Not like this.” He sat up on his knee between my legs, arousal still evident as he looked down at me, one hand tightly grabbing onto the back of the couch to gain self-restraint as he looked down at me. Even like this, he looked godly. Messy hair, shirt pulled out of his pants showing the top of his chest, face red, and eyes blown wide; I reached for his pants, but he grabbed my hand, tangling his fingers into mine again. I sat up too, back resting on the arm of the couch. 

“Levi, it’s fine. It’s your last night here. I can make you feel go-” He shook his head, cutting me off. 

“I don’t want my first time with you to only be because it could be my last.”

-

“Please be safe. Please.” I had his face in between both of my hands, trying not to shed a tear. The early morning wind was whipping around us as we stood outside my door. The sun was barely over the horizon, permitting Levi to be able to show such physical affection outside the four walls he’d found so much comfort in over the past few weeks. I could see it in his face, too. He wasn’t hiding anything. He didn’t want to leave. 

“I promise I’ll come back alive. There’s so much still left to do, Eva.” There were no jokes, no smiles, no laughs. Nothing was humorous about this situation. This was the first time I’d ever sent him off in person. The first time that could possibly be the last time. 

“You have to come back.” He put one hand over mine, nodding. 

“You have to write.” 

“I will.” He removed my hands from his face, holding them by my chest. He was relishing in a final touch, and I could he was contemplating something. He was conflicted about something, evident by the crease in his forehead. He wanted to say something. 

“Eva?” My eyes were always boring into his. Trying to see what he really wanted to say to me. We only had a few fleeting moments left. 

“Levi?” He took two more seconds before shaking his head, pulling me into a hug. I took in his scent one more time, wrapping my arms around his middle. 

“Please be safe. For me. I know it’s a normal expedition, but anything could happen. Especially since it’s a long one.” When I thought he would pull back, he didn’t. He held me there, swapping body heat. The only thing I could hear were our hearts, beating in sync as the seconds we had left passed. Time was passing too fast. Once he pulled back, I knew by his face that he was leaving. 

“I’ll see you after, Eva. Like always.” I nodded and he smiled. It was fake. Something to make me feel better about this situation. I had no idea how the wives and families of the Scouts were able to do this every time; letting your lover go off to imminent death every month like clockwork.

“Like always,” I repeated, and he leaned in, giving my forehead one soft kiss before turning down the stairs. The warmth still lingered, and I watched as he put his hood up, no turning back, and left down the street. When I raced to my window to be able to see him, he had turned once more, looking up at me through the glass. He nodded, like he always did, acknowledgment I was there, and then mouthed something to me that I was unable to read. Before I could give him a confused look, he turned back around, walking down the street and turning, making me lose sight of him. 

I awoke when my whole body jumped, landing down on hardwood. A horse neighed, and when I opened my eyes, all I saw was the blue sky. 

“Oh, you’re up!” I looked to my left jumping in fear, finally able to hear Hange again. The pain was gone. Relief. I lifted my hand up to rub my eyes and noticed the excess tears I had to wipe along with it. I was laying in the bed of a cart, Erwin and one other blonde man driving while Hange sat back with me. 

“H-Hange?! Where…?” The landscape was familiar as I looked around. In my haze, I was trying to remember where we were. I’d been here before. 

“Okay, now, before you get mad or freak out, I need you to promise me you won’t get mad or freak out. Remember what Erwin asked you before?” I narrowed my eyes at her, not knowing where this was going. She was most likely referring to our first meeting, Erwin and I, but that was almost two years ago. Still, I was curious and I sat up to promise. 

“I promise?” Again, her face went back to serious, pushing her glasses up and looking down at me. This made the dull ache of chest pain reappear and I instinctively grabbed at my chest, only to see I was dressed differently. Someone had changed me into more formal wear, a dress combined with a shawl hanging off my shoulders. 

“Today is Levi’s trial. In front of the Premiere. They got an anonymous tip that Levi had murdered someone important while in the Underground. Originally, we thought this would just be a ploy for defamation of character, but now it seems someone in the government wants to take it further.” I sat up completely, sitting on a bench across from Hange and getting a clear view of both men upfront. My heart was beating fast now, not in pain, but with anxiety. They wanted to kill him. He’d predicted this. 

“What do you want me to do?” It must have surprised all of them, my willingness to do something for Levi. While I was still angry and annoyed and confused, I wasn’t going to let him die on the government's chopping block. Even the new man, blonde hair and stubble, looked over at me, impressed in a way. There was also an ulterior motive. If I saved Levi, I might be able to talk to him. To yell at him. To finally do something. 

Hange reached into a bag next to her and pulled out a card that I hadn’t seen in years. 

“You need to testify in Levi’s favor. You’re the only one who can be confirmed as a member of the Underground at some point in your life. If they believe you as a primary source, they cannot press more charges on Levi. Frankly, we think the only reason this has come forward is that they don’t think we have someone like you on our side.” I looked at the card, rolling it over and over in my hand. A picture of my old self was looking up at me, young and bruised. The day I was issued this ID was the day after Mr. Flynn found me. A marker of my original status, and one that I’d forgotten after getting a regular, forged Trost Citizen ID. 

                                         Underground Citizen ID 

                                         Maria [No Last Name]

                                          St. Sina Orphanage 

“You want me to lie to the government about my time in the Underground?” Erwin spoke up next to me, clearing his throat before reminding me of my promise. 

“When we asked if you were willing to protect Levi or any of the Scouts, this is what we meant. Protect them against the government. If they can hinge Levi’s life on a false pretense, we can stretch the truth in our favor as well. You said before you would be willing.” It sounded like an order coming from his mouth. There would be no way to get out of here, even if I wanted to. They had already accepted the fact that I would be used to secure Levi’s freedom. 

“I agreed when we were in a relationship, Commander. Now, we’ve left each other on bad terms. Why are you so sure I’ll accept?” I could see him smile out of the corner of my eye. So did Hange. 

“Squad Leader Hange started regularly visiting your café because Captain Levi ordered her to.” My eyes widened, looking at Hange who just nodded. Her arms were crossed and she leaned back in a smug position like she’d successfully hidden this from me for a long time and she was proud. 

“And because you still slip packets of peppermint tea into my bag before I leave for the HQ. And because Levi keeps asking about your health. And because you still cr-” I held up my hand for her to stop, knowing what she was about to say next. Most of what she said didn’t surprise me, because secretly inside I was always trying to convince myself of his reasonings. I tried to convince myself that he still cared and still loved me. I had to hide my relief when Hange said those things, but still, I wanted Levi to say it to my face. I needed him to say it to me now. 

“I’ll save him.” The blonde man smiled slightly, then turned back to direct the horses on the curve of the gravel road. We were only a few minutes out of Wall Sina. Erwin was the first to speak after Hange’s shriek of delight. 

“You’ll be questioned in front of most of the MPs and Commanders of other branches. The Premiere is a very… He’s a very interesting man. He has his vices, and beautiful women are one of them. He’ll be more inclined to listen to you because of that. Yet, there are guidelines for what you are to say.” I turned to look at Erwin, who was now turned completely to talk to me, “You cannot mention you and Levi’s current position. You only know him from the Underground and left a few years before he was taken. The murder they are trying to pin on Captain Levi was when you were the age of seventeen. You have to convince them you were in the Underground then.” I thought about how I would do that. My ID card was issued a few days before I left, and Mr. Flynn was the one who snuck me out to the surface. There would be no official records of my leave. That could turn out to be a good or bad thing. 

“Second, you have to answer all the questions short and sweet. You cannot upset the Premiere or that will give him more of a resolve to hang Levi. While Zachary is on our side, he still is being pressured from the inside to handle Levi. No one likes people from the Underground, and they might treat you with disgust. You cannot let that get to you, under any circumstances.” 

“Does the government know of my existence? Right now. Do they know I’m coming?” He shook his head. 

“No, we think not. We only thought of this option yesterday, that’s why we came for you. Levi himself has no idea you’re coming to defend him, we just told him not to worry.” I put the blanket over my bare legs, realizing now why I’d been put into such a dress. Persuasion. 

“They’re going to ask me if I was a prostitute, aren’t they?” It was the common question women of the Underground were asked. It was only countered by the fact I was twelve when I left, but now I’d have to lie. How was a girl past the age of fourteen supposed to survive alone in the Underground? There was only one conclusion people drew. I could see Erwin sigh and his body tighten up.

“They’re going to ask you many things. That being one of them. However, you need to vouge for Levi’s character. You need to convince them that he wasn’t a murder and that you were with him when you were seventeen. If they believe your alibi of him being with you the whole time, their fake claims have no base.” My heart started beating fast as the walls came into view. 

“What happens if it goes wrong?” Erwin turned back around, ready to greet the guards with his travel permit. 

“Don’t let it.” I looked to Hange who gave me another reassuring smile before looking out in front of the cart. It was resting all on me. That’s what the smile said. 

When we entered, everyone was silent. It was only another twenty-minute ride into the capital past various inner towns. During this time, I was thinking about what I would say. Not only would I have hundreds of eyes on me, but I would also be seeing Levi there in a vulnerable state. I couldn’t imagine what his reaction to my presence would be, but it was anything but positive. I’d have to keep those emotions at bay while I was anxiously lying his way to freedom. I stepped up into a formal carriage as we got off the cart, ready to enter Mitras. As soon as the driver closed the door behind us, I was aware of how small these were. I was aware of how close we were to the central courthouse in Mitras and how close I was to standing in front of everyone. I gripped my stomach this time, feeling it twist and turn at the thought. One wrong move and everyone would be at fault. If they find out I’m lying under oath, I would die too. Erwin would be punished. Levi would die. I was the one who was holding them on my shoulders. When Erwin had requested this service of me, I never knew this was the extent of what he meant. Betray the government in person for us. Risk everyone’s life for us. Is this how they felt on a daily basis? Is this the trust they had in each other? In me?

“This is Miche Zacharius, by the way. He’s the second to Levi in skill and is one of the only people to hurt Levi. One time he shoved his face into the ground.” I looked up at him and nodded. He nodded back and sniffed once. 

“You smell nervous.” His voice was smooth, but I was more surprised at what he had just said to me. Hange only laughed, a reassuring hand around my shoulder. 

“He has a really good nose!” Her laughing didn’t reassure me. 

“I-I’m… I’ll be fine soon. Just let me process.” I whispered, almost feeling embarrassed that he’d called me out like that. All three of these people had faced and killed titans, watched their comrades die, and now here I was afraid. 

“You can’t show them that you’re nervous in the courtroom or they’ll use that against you.” I was aware now that all three pairs of eyes were on me. It felt like they were looking at me like some sort of child. I was acting like one yes, but they could have at least cut me some slack. I wasn’t used to doing any of this. 

“You’ll get used to this, Eva. Once you acquire a general disdain for the government, it’s easy to lie.” Erwin lifted up the curtain to see where we were on the way to the courthouse. 

“You’re saying I’ll have to do this again?” Both of my arms went around my stomach at the thought. If I was already about to puke the first time, why was he so confident there was going to be another time. And another. This just made all three of them laugh, again like I was a child, and I just stared down at Miche’s boots who sat across from me. 

“You’ll be fine. Just… Just think of another emotion to fuel you. You’re mad at Levi, right? Go in there mad at him, not nervous. Displace your emotions.” I opened one eye and looked at Hange out of the corner of it. She was really trying to help me, but I was psyching myself out too much for it to work. The carriage slowed, and soon the door opened. Standing outside to greet us seemed to be ten or twenty MPs and another bald man. He was older but smiled warmly as Erwin stepped out.

“Don’t act nervous,” Miche muttered before stepping out behind Erwin on the tiny stairs that were placed for us. 

“Let out a silent scream before we go. That always helps to pump me up!” Again, I looked at her out of the corner of my eye but paused for a few seconds before doing what she said. It didn’t help the feeling of need to throw up, but it did relieve some sort of knot in my stomach. Before I could say anything, Hange stepped out of the cart and I knew I was next. People were staring inside at my figure, trying to understand who else they could have brought. 

“Okay. Okay. Displace your anger. You’re angry. You hate the MPs. Think of Duran. He’s a dick. He’s an MP. Fuck them. Yeah, fuck the government. Let’s go save, Levi. Yeah. Yeah.” I stood up, and as soon as I took a step out of the carriage, all eyes were going to look at me, that positive attitude I had sunk inside of me. Why were there so many?! 

“And who is this?” The old man looked at me as I walked up next to Hange. 

“E-Evlynn Flynn… sir.” I bowed once and he just smiled again. It reminded me of Mr. Flynn, which calmed my nerves a tiny bit. He was on our side. I could tell that. 

“This is Commander Dot Pyxis of the Garrison Regiment.” Pyxis reached out to shake my hand and I took it tentatively. 

“Nervous,” I heard Miche behind me whisper, which made me straighten up. This was showtime now. I couldn’t be scared like I was in the carriage. No, I was scared, but I couldn’t show it. It was for Levi. Levi would be yelling at me now. Saying how weak I looked. I needed to straighten up and act like I knew why the fuck I was here. I was confident. I was going to win. 

“Evlynn Flynn... You broke one of my Trost Captain’s noses.” That made me freeze up, and I also let out a noise of fear. Fuck. How did he know that? Yet, he only laughed at my reaction. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright. He needed it, I believe. Come this way, the trial is about to begin.” He transferred his hand onto my shoulder, pushing me to walk next to him leaving Hange, Miche, and Erwin behind us. 

“Evlynn Flynn. An interesting name for an interesting person. Why did Commander Erwin bring you here today? He’d only alerted me about your visit, but not the reason for.” I couldn’t look back at Erwin to search for an answer now. Everyone was watching. MPs were lined up, knowing what was happening inside the military building, and looking directly at me. I was the key witness today and the one who was most out of place. Everyone was wearing a military uniform with their respected emblems, and I was in a sundress, a cream shawl wrapped around my arms. Even if I wasn’t here to testify, I would still be getting stares. 

“I’m here to defend Captain Levi, Commander.” His smile didn’t waiver and he just nodded, opening the door for me so I would walk into the building. Upon entry, there were even more people lined up against the walls, waiting for entrance into two wooden doors. Those had to be the courtroom.

“Well, I wish you good luck today, Evlynn Flynn.” Pyxis walked off, and I stood there, waiting for instructions from Erwin. I didn’t have the heart or courage to move from the position I was in. Everyone was looking. I was a surprise. I was unknown. Who was this girl that Commander Erwin was talking to? I was afraid, but I had to swallow it down so Miche didn’t remind me. 

“Pyxis is on our side as far as we know. You assaulted a Garrison official?” I knew Erwin was trying to lighten up the mood, finally seeing that he needed to as well. I was still staring at the doors, not knowing what was behind them. Duran had described the military court as brutal and never-ending. His words were now echoing over and over in my head. What a horrible voice to have in my head minutes before I was going to lie to his precious government. 

“I… yes. A punch. Just one. He was being very annoying.” Erwin and Miche both huffed once at this because the seriousness of the situation didn’t allow any laughs. Hange however, had positioned her arm around my shoulders again. It was for comfort. 

“Well, don’t try to assault any more today,” she whispered, tracing my line of view with her own, “Levi is in there right now. He’s chained to a pole in the center. When it’s your turn to talk, you won’t need to move unless they ask you to come to the floor. If they do, you go around to a small gate and they’ll let you on the platform, only in front of Levi. Don’t let him distract you. When you walk into the courtroom, don’t look at him, only when we’re standing. He knows better than to prolong it, but he might have lost a little self-control while contained. Can you do all of this?” The doors opened, one by one, and soldiers started flooding in. We would enter last as Levi’s defendants, right to the front row. I took another deep breath, letting it out like in the carriage. Still, I wanted to throw up. 

“Hange, I feel like I’m going to pass out.” She took her arm off of me, starting to walk in when Erwin prompted us. One more smile came to me before she turned back to her serious face. Erwin was the last one to the door and stopped to turn to me and nod. He would wait for me so I could walk in next to him, trying to block my body from everyone’s view. If I could hide behind him, even a little bit, I would be okay. I told him this in the carriage. So, I joined him a the door, walking in and seeing the exact scene Hange had described. Their eyes were on me again, but this time I felt the intensity of an extra pair. I couldn’t look like Hange said, but I felt them on me. All the way over to his right side, I felt them. 

“Erwin, is there an excuse for me to leave yet?” I could see him out of the corner of my eye as we turned to join Hange and Miche at the front of the small fence, blocking us from the platform. Even when Erwin’s body was in my peripheral, I could feel the stare. I could see his hands, shackled behind the post. 

“If you’re fast, you’ll get out in thirty minutes tops. I’ll buy you dinner and supplies you need for your café if you pull this off. Is that enough motivation?” My mouth dried up, turning to press my middle against the top of the wooden fence. He stared right at me, not hiding any emotion. He was angry. It was directed at me. His eyes were wide and furious that I’d walked in here today, knowing exactly what Erwin’s plan was. I tried to keep my eyes neutral, but they softened a bit, pleading with him. Let me do this. 

“I’ll give him a month off. Now, look ahead. You two are obviously staring at each other,” Erwin whispered, again almost like a command, and I gave Levi one more glance before turning to the empty chair of the Premier. Levi didn’t. He was still looking right at me, and I grabbed my heart as a small pain popped up. No, I can’t do this here. Not here. The chest pains can’t come now. I pulled my shawl around me, trying to get anything to block the intensity of his stare. My skin was heating up, regardless of how far away we were. He needed to stop. Stop looking at me. Please. 

The doors behind the stand opened, and three people walked out. One of them was Premier Zachary, and I could instantly tell who. He ascended the tall stand and went to sit in the middle chair, the biggest one, shrugging off the military jacket he had on. The only thing that indicated he was the Premier was the red sash across his chest. When we sat, he rolled up his sleeves and looked at the papers presented in front of him. Everyone went silent, and he looked down at Levi who had shifted his gaze. Thank you. Thank any one. I couldn’t deal with the intensity of his eyes like this. Not after so long. 

“Captain Levi. You are here because you’ve been charged with first-degree murder of a Garrison Captain who patrolled the Underground during the year of eight-hundred and twenty-seven. Because of your status as a Captain of the Scout Regiment, we have agreed to try you with military precedents. The sole decision of your death in my hands,” He pushed his glasses up, almost groaning at the last statement. My heart, again, started beating out of my chest, and no doubt those next to me could hear it. In my head over and over, I was giving mantras of encouragement. The man was so high above me, I was afraid. Afraid of his stare. Afraid of the moment he called out my name, “The Scout Regiment has also been given the privilege to transfer interrogation to a witness as to testify that Captain Levi is innocent of this murder charge. Those opposed to this have not spoken up, and therefore will now not be allowed to be recognized. I wish, also, to finish this case by lunch, so please don’t make this difficult. Commander Smith, you may present your witness.” That’s when all eyes went to me again, and this time, I grabbed at my bottom of my shawl to try and conceal how nervous I was. I just stared directly up at Zachary trying to concentrate on him. The only three people in the room were me, him, and Levi. No one else was there. Only us. I couldn’t be nervous. My voice couldn’t waiver. I needed to be strong. For him. For Levi. I need to do this for him. For the Scouts. I can’t kill titans, or save the world, but I could do this. 

“Our witness is Evlynn Flynn, who grew up with Captain Levi in the Underground. She was there with Captain Levi at the designated time of the murder and can bring Captain’s name and reputation to light.” Zachary linked his fingers together, finally locking eyes with me. I could see the small tint of enjoyment when he was finally given professional reasons to stare at me like the others in the military.

“Miss Flynn, thank you for joining us. I’m sure the operations of the military are unknown to you, so I will guide you through this questioning with ease if you comply. Do you have any proof that you were once a citizen of the Underground?” Hange held the ID up behind me, and Zachary motioned for someone to come and give it to him from far away. I still didn’t waver. My gaze was directed at him. Displace your feelings. Be angry. Like Levi. Be angry. Seem sharp. Seem unwavering. 

“Miss Flynn, I’m sure that this is not your real name, yes?” That’s when Levi’s eyes snapped over to me again, and I took a gulp. This was what he wanted to know. The information that previously was eating away at him because I wouldn’t tell him my real name out of fun. Now he was going to learn what it was so close to death. This wasn’t how he wanted to learn it, I know it wasn’t. This wasn’t how I wanted him to learn it either. Either way, I wanted to be the one to say it aloud. I wanted to be the one who learned it from still. 

“Maria, yes. Only Maria. I now go by Evlynn, so please refer to me with that name, Premier Zachary.” It was a light smile at my tone, and I even surprised myself. I didn’t stutter or waver as I had with Pyxis. I sounded confident only because I took initiative. I told Levi, not Zachary. I would have to feign the same confidence throughout this whole trial, even if my fist was throbbing with how tight I was holding my shawl. 

“Miss Flynn, I’ll call you that, yes? Miss Flynn, how do you know Captain Levi?” I cleared my head, running through the story we’d built in the carriage. I held up my hands, still wrapped in bandages. 

“When I was young, I was put in an orphanage, only to care for myself. I would wonder at night and suffer at the hand of those in the Underground. One night, when I was eight, Captain Levi saved me from being burned by one of those such people. My hands are the only token I have in remembrance of that night. From then on, Captain Levi and I became friends. Supporting each other.” I took my hands down, continuing to squeeze my shawl with one hand. This was the only place on my body that I would outwardly display my fear.

“Are there any reasons to believe that you and Captain Levi have gone beyond the bounds of mutual friendship, and therefore put an ulterior motive with your testimony?” I didn’t look at Levi when I said this, knowing some way it would hurt. It would hurt both of us, but it was payback. Payback for when he did it to me. 

“I have never had feelings for or sexual relations with Captain Levi. By the time I was of the age, I was taken from the Underground and cared for by a friend of my father's. This is where I received my new name, Premier.” 

“And at what time did you leave the Underground, Miss Flynn?” 

“The year eight-hundred and twenty-nine. Right before I turned nineteen.” That was the preliminary to the next question he asked. I didn’t even know why he would have needed to know such information from anyone, but to him and to others it seemed important. Apparently, what a person does with their body must display their ultimate moral character. 

“And what jobs did you take to survive in the Underground?” I felt the growing interest of the crowd of men surrounding me. So did Levi. That’s why his glare increased, looking around him. He finally spoke up. 

“I see no reason for that question to be asked, Premier Zachary.” For a second, Zachary’s glance switched to him before returning back to me. 

“By Captain Levi’s reaction, I may assume that the job you had taken in the Underground was… less than-” I cut him off, which in hindsight was a bad idea, but I didn’t care. I had my own image to protect now. 

“No, Premier, I worked alongside Captain Levi and our friends at the time. I was not a prostitute.” Something in my words made him smile again, just subtly, before looking down at the papers in front of him, my ID tossed to the side. I was growing bolder to him. I was growing more acceptable to be in the position I was in.

“Were you with Captain Levi on the day of the murder?” Erwin stated that this was a trick question before. I couldn’t say yes or no, as it would indict Levi. I had to work around it. 

“I was with Captain Levi for the entire year of eight-hundred and twenty-seven.” 

“And were you present when Captain Levi murdered the Garrison Captain in question?” This would also hurt me. If I didn’t work around this question, I would be thrown in jail as an accomplice. 

“As I stated, I was with Captain Levi for the entire year, and he never murdered anyone. The claims are false.” He withdrew one hand, flipping the pages of the report. He knew there was no evidence to support the other side, but there had to be some internal pressure to get rid of Levi. 

“Come up here, Miss Flynn. I want to look at your face closely as to access your claim.” Just like Hange told me, the crowd parted so I could go to the small gate, letting me onto the platform. Levi and I looked at each other once, the anger still in his eyes, and I turned around to look up at Premier Zachary. Still, I could feel his gaze on my back. I could feel everyone's’ gaze. I was finally in the middle on display for everyone to see. Zachary leaned down to look at me closely, that perverted undertone still there. I knew there was another reason he wanted me to come forward, and I pulled the shawl tighter around my shoulders to block his view. 

“You stated that Captain Levi never murdered anyone while in the Underground. Do you know what will happen to you if that claim turns out to be proven false?” I hardened my gaze up at him and found it much easier now to direct anger. He had me up there to intimidate me, but also to look me up and down for his enjoyment. There was no other reason. He could see my face clearly from behind the bars, but my body was blocked by Erwin just enough. It was a tactic so no one could see me shaking with anxiety. Now, that was gone and replaced with disgust at his lingering eyes. 

“I have no worry, Premier. Captain Levi did not murder the Captain you are referring to.” The sun came through the window, making his glasses reflect it. The glimmer in his eyes was also it's most prominent. 

“How can we be so sure to validate that you and Captain Levi were together in the Underground? It’s filled with all kinds of people. How did the coincidental meeting occur in such a large space? Give me definite evidence, Miss Flynn.” I paused. This wasn’t a question I was prepped for. How was I supposed to get him to believe this Levi and I were together in the Underground when we absolutely weren’t? My silence seemed to confirm for the opposition that the Scouts were lying. I had to think of something quick, or I would lose this. My heart started racing, my mind muddling with ideas and sounds.

“She’s being used by the Scouts!” 

“Are you sure that ID card is even real?!” 

“How can someone like her be from the Underground?” I closed my eyes, trying to drown out their words. Think. Think. Think. 

“Order!” Zachary called out, making me jump. This was the first time I’d shown any nervousness, and it was at the worst time possible. I need to have confidence. I needed to think of something.

“Hange!” I called out and turned to face her, “As the Scouts medical officer, you’ve seen Captain Levi’s bare skin multiple times. If we showed you, would you be able to identify the cause of each scar or damage to the skin?” She stepped a bit forward, not knowing what I was thinking. 

“I could be able to identify every one that he received while under my care in the Scouts. However, there are numerous others that he’s received in the Underground that I would have no idea their origin.” I turned around to Premier Zachary, ready to release my full plan. 

“I can confirm any scars that Captain Levi received in the Underground. Give me paper and a pencil, I can write it down, and then Captain Levi can confirm my writing with his words. This way you can see that I was in fact with Captain Levi in the Underground.” 

“How does this confirm anything?” He leaned forward again, interested in my plan.

“I was the one in the Underground who cared for his wounds. I should know every single scar on him. This confirms my presence as well as how long I stayed with him.” A Garrison member stepped forward. 

“Premier Zachary, how do we know that these two haven’t started a relationship outside of their time in the Underground? I’ve had reports from multiple Trost Garrison members, including the Captain, that they’ve seen Captain Levi and Miss Flynn regularly interacting in her café.” My eyes narrowed at the member who had spoken up, most likely prompted by the person who wanted to see Levi killed. 

“Captain Levi started coming to my café only three-and-a-half years ago and would come once every six months to visit if he was permitted to. I wouldn’t call this regular. What I would call regular was the fact that those same Garrison soldiers would abandon their posts daily to play cards inside of my café from morning to late afternoon, all while trying to coerce me into giving them free drinks for fulfilling their duty to the people. Perhaps you should tell those soldiers to concentrate on their jobs and not me, soldier.” When I turned back to Zachary, his smile had grown, and he looked quite happy at the situation at hand. No other member stepped forward to speak, and I think my surge of anger amused him enough to let this whole thing proceed. 

“Miss Flynn, I’m sorry for the incompetence of the Garrison soldiers in Trost. We will proceed with your plan. Squad Leader Hange, please proceed in marking the scars of Captain Levi’s torso that you know of.” He motioned to a guard to open the door for Hange as another unbuttoned Levi’s shirt and pulled it down to the shackles. There he was shirtless in front of everyone, now looking right at me. I knew we were both thinking of the same thing as Hange went around inspecting him. Thinking about the same moment we shared almost a year-and-a-half ago. 

He had been reaching up on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet when I observed a long and thin scar across the base of his stomach. I pointed it out to him, asking him what had occurred for him to get such a long scar. Then, even when he protested, I lifted his shirt up a little more to see almost every inch of his skin covered in white lines or even bigger marks. I wondered how I didn’t notice before, and because he was so annoyed at my hands, claiming I was tickling him, he took off his shirt and sat me down on top of the kitchen counter. 

“I’m only going to go through them once, so pay attention.”

“Premier Zachary, I’ve finished assessing Captain Levi’s torso.” When Hange cleared the way, he was still looking up at me expectantly. Each scar that Hange had recognized, she’d put down a piece of medical tape, leaving me with over a dozen more to remember. Good thing I was paying attention. Someone handed me a pad of paper and a pencil, and I walked near Levi, crouching down to meet his eyes, right in front of his face. That’s when the talking started. Everyone seemed that it would be fine to deliberate my success as I wrote everything down with diligence. 

“Why the hell are you here?” Levi hissed at me, low enough for me to hear as I studied his shirtless torso. If this were any other situation, I would have blushed like I always did. Looking at Levi’s figure had always been a treat since he never let me see it for long, but now there was only pressure; pressure to remember his words and get everything right. 

“To save you,” I whispered back, shoving his body to the right so I could get a good view of his ribs. That one touch made something stir inside of me, even if it was meant to be mean. His body was hot to the touch, and it had been so long since I’d been able to feel his skin. I could tell I had the same influence on him as he hid a groan. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye almost amused by his inability to hold himself back in front of the entire military regiment stationed in Mitras. However, I didn’t care about the others. Right now, there were still three people in the room. Levi, Zachary, and I. My closeness to Levi’s skin soon started to affect me as he was able to sit up, looking right at me as I inspected the scar on his lower stomach. 

“Knife fight when you were thirteen. You almost lost.” I mumble, touching two fingers to the scar like I had done before. This made him take in another harsh breath, and I removed my touch to write it down on the piece of paper, location and all. 

“Did you have to strip me in front of everyone?” He whispered again and this time I gave him a small smirk before standing up and turning back to Zachary. 

“Here is the list. All thirteen scars that Squad Leader Hange didn’t mark. All with locations and most with timestamps, Premier.” I handed the pad to his helper, and they ran it up to him. He ran one finger over the list and looked again at Levi, ready to quiz him with random locations. My heart picked up again with anxiety. If I had gotten one wrong, we would be done for.

“Captain Levi. The scar on your left shoulder, right below the collar bone?” 

“Fell through a roof at age twenty-one.” Zachary leaned back, the same sickening smile starting to form. I had gotten them right. 

“Small oval scar right below your left pectoral muscle?” Levi now shifted his glance to me, trying to remember what he told me. There was doubt in his face. Had I really put all of this to my memory? Was I that devoted to him to remember all the scars he had? 

“A bullet wound. Age of seventeen.” 

“Finally, the long scar just above your waistline?” The one I touched. The one I first made him mention to me. I saw it flicker in his eyes again. The emotion I had always assumed was pain. It wasn’t pain. This time I confirmed what it was. It was Levi registering just how much one person could care about him. It was disbelief. Disbelief that after all this time I still remembered. After all this time, I still came here and risked my life in front of the military for him. How could one person do all of that for him? 

“Knife fight when I was thirteen.” Premier Zachary let out a booming laugh, knowing that the fake claims had been bested by someone the military had no knowledge of. He was laughing because it was so amusing to him, my presence. My existence. One girl from the Underground had bested someone. They were going to be watching me now. I was added to the list of people they needed to destroy right then and there. Yet, pride welled in my chest. 

“As we can all see, based on the ages that Captain Levi had received the scars, and the knowledge that Miss Flynn here has of these things, she would also have known if Captain Levi had murdered any Garrison member. I have full trust in her words, as they were sworn under oath. Therefore, I declare Captain Levi not guilty of the claims presented against him. If anyone dare oppose my word, speak now.” The courtroom was silent, only filled with someone putting Levi’s shirt back on him before getting ready to release his hands. 

“Then, I declare the court dismissed.” He hit his gavel twice and the courtroom’s noise increased ten-fold. Everyone was talking about this girl from the Underground who had just saved a Scout Captain. Everyone was talking about whether or not they agreed with the verdict. I was just staring at Levi as they let him go, leading him through another door to perhaps give him back and confiscated items. 

“Eva!” Hange yelled, running over to me now that the platform was free for anyone, “You did great!” She grabbed both of my arms, pulling me into a hug, and as she did this, the reality of the situation hit me. All the emotion I was holding back came crashing through, and she had to hold me up for a minute. 

“Hange, I really feel like I'm going to pass out.” She laughed, hearing me say that again, and then when I was stable enough she let go. All of them were smiling at me, even Miche. I’d done what they needed me to do. 

“Miss Flynn?” A deep voice sounded behind me, and I turned, pulling the shawl tight around my body so he had no chance to look like he had on his stand. 

“Premier Zachary,” I bowed, “Thank you for your verdict.” He smiled, laughing once or twice before continuing. 

“I admire your ability to speak with confidence in front of an unknown crowd. Not even many soldiers could do what you did today.” I stayed bowed, hiding the amount of skin he could look at. 

“Thank you, Premier.” He handed me my ID card, and I looked down at it once more seeing the child looking back at me. If only she could see me now. 

“I was going to comment on the fact that you knew how long Captain Levi’s scars went below his pant waistline, but I decided it wasn’t important. Next time, be mindful.” I stuttered only then and there, feeling the smirks of the three behind me. They were going to get the wrong idea. 

“I-I… I am not anticipating a next time, P-Premier.” He smiled lightly before grabbing my hand and shaking it. 

“Whether it be here in the courtroom, or perhaps a military ball, I wish to see you again, Miss Flynn. You interest me. Well, I am off.” He let go of my hand, not letting me even react to what he had just said. All I know is that my stomach dropped and a feeling of dread came over me. That was him telling me he was going to be watching. 

“Well, um… Eva, I’m sure you would like to talk to Captain Levi after your exchange.” I tried to hide my blush from Erwin and the rest and nodded. I needed to talk to him after my revelation and after what I was told coming here. I wanted to know the real reason he decided that he needed to be separate from me for so long. 

“Eva, Eva, Eva,” Hange whispered in my ear as we walked to a wing I remembered as the offices, “Did you and Levi do what I think you did?!” Her voice went up at the end in excitement. My blush got deeper, and I was thankful Miche and Erwin were in front of us because of the information I was about to give Hange. 

“No, we haven’t. The only reason I knew about Levi’s scars was that I forced him to tell me once. Nothing like that, Hange.” She frowned, sad to not hear any juicy details she could poke Levi with later. We turned into a hallway that I was familiar with and Hange again took her arm off of me. 

“We have some other paperwork and things to do, so I’ve instructed them to bring Captain Levi to his room while he’s waiting to be cleared. We will leave tomorrow morning. Make sure no one… catches you two.” Erwin gestured to the door I remembered, Levi’s name plaque still right above the handle. Again, I hid my face with my hair, walking into the empty room. When Erwin closed the door behind me, I all but collapsed on the desk chair. I put my head in my hands too, recalling what just happened. 

“I lied to the government. They know who I am now. By the walls, I'm so done for.” I pulled my face back, looking down once more at my ID. This stupid thing I had no idea why I kept just saved both of us. This stupid little kid, not smiling, and a bruise under her right eye just saved me. 

“Imagine if I knew where I’d end up back then. I’d probably just stay in the Underground.” I put the card on the empty desk, sitting back again. The room smelled like him, just like it had before. He’d been staying here regularly from what Erwin said, and I could tell. Before, the scent was only on the bed and very faint. Now it was all over and giving me a headache. I’d tried too hard to not give in to the temptation of the shirts he had left me, but the number of times they ended up in my hands at night made them lose their smell quickly. This was the first time in a long time I’d been overwhelmed by it and I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate my thoughts. I was trying to summarize the events that happened, but it was of no use. All I could think about now was him. All I could think about were the extra injuries on his skin, red and fresh. The ones that everyone just pretended not to see. They had hurt him here. 

“Thank you, I know where my room is. You trapped me there for weeks.” The voice outside the door made my eyes snap open, and I turned so I was facing the window. It felt like an hour before the knob turned and the door opened, quickly closing behind him. Again, I felt his eyes on me, but this time I could feel it at its full intensity. There wasn’t any trial, any other man, or any outside force that I had to concentrate more on than him. The one-and-a-half-year-old needed conversation was going to happen now.

“Look at me.” I didn’t move, even though it wasn’t a suggestion. I just stared outside of the window, watching a white bird fly by. He sighed, and this time asked. 

“Eva, can you look at me?” I just turned over my shoulder, looking at him once then turning back. The emotion was there. The disbelief. It made me swallow hard and remember everything I had to go through the past year-and-a-half. I was the one still in disbelief of what Hange had told me. 

“D-did you really order Hange to come to the café every month because you couldn’t?” 

“Did you give her peppermint tea every month and tell her to say that she was the one who bought it?” I put my hand over my mouth, holding the whimper trying to come from it. This whole time. This whole time was a lie. All the emotional turmoil I went through was for what? 

The chair turned, and I was centimeters from his face. This was the closest we had been for so long, but I wasn’t able to look him in the eyes anymore. He put one hand under my chin, lifting my face up so I was looking right at him. This time, there wasn’t disbelief. There was a look that sent warmth throughout my whole body. It confirmed that, yes, this whole time we’d been lying to each other about the feelings we still felt. All those words he told me before leaving me were all lies. 

“I told you to look at me,” he whispered, his breath fanning over my lips. 

“I am.” It was all of two seconds before he leaned down and crushed his lips onto mine in a frenzy. A year-and-a-half. That’s how long it had been since we last held each other. Since we last talked. Since we last felt the person’s warmth on top of us. How had we stayed apart for so long? He forced me to stand up, away from the window, and pressed me to the nearest wall. One arm was above my head while the other was holding the back of my neck, trying so hard to have no space between us. I threw both of my arms around his neck, trying to do the same. There was no time to be apart now. It had been too long. 

“The way you acted back there. To see you stand up to all of them in the courtroom. When you talked back to the Garrison Sergeant. So confident and strong. To protect me like that. So powerful. You have no idea what that did to me.” Both of our breathing was ragged as he pulled back to give me that affirmation, “The whole time you were next to me. Touching me. I wanted to lean down and kiss you right there. In front of everyone so they would stop looking at you like a piece of meat. I was so tempted to let everyone know you were mine.” He brought his lips down on mine again, lost in some sort of power lust. I was drowning in it too. I didn’t care how he’d made me feel previous. I wanted to forget everything that happened before. Being in his arms made me forget. 

“Reward me,” I whispered out as he began his assault on my neck and my now easily accessible collarbone. He laughed in my ear, his breath sending goosebumps down my spine. 

“I’m not going to have my first time with you be in this musty ass barrack either, brat.” I groaned, and he pulled back completely, straightening out the hair that I had messed up. He looked me up and down, having time to now register what I was wearing. The shawl had fallen somewhere on the floor and I had nothing to cover myself from his wandering eyes. Even if he had just taken my breath away, I still felt exposed. 

“I’ll reward you by sleeping with you. Tonight. I haven’t slept in a long time, and I’d rather have you in my arms when I do.” A huge smile broke through on my face, knowing this wasn’t a reward, but one way for him to apologize. It made my heart skip a beat. He was finally going to do it. I just nodded quickly, having no words to say. When I did this, he smiled. A real smile. A smile that seemed to be brighter than the sun shining through the windows. He grabbed me, pulling me towards him and burying his face into my neck. The position we had always taken before. 

We would figure everything out later. Every nuance. Every secret we had kept from each other. Right now, all that mattered was holding the other person and making up for the time we missed. Making up for the number of times we could have kissed on the couch while the sounds of Trost faded in the distance. Right now, we only cared for the other person. The person we'd missed so much that it was turning into pain. The pain wasn't being together, the pain was always because we were apart.

“I missed you, Evlynn. So much.”

Chapter Seventeen →

Chapter Masterlist

#LEVI ACKERMAN #levi ackerman scenario #levi ackerman x oc #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #attack on titan levi #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi aot #snk levi #aot x reader #aot scenario #snk x reader #snk scenario #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x oc #captain #Captain Levi #levi heichou

[archangeldraws]

Reunion

Since some were so interested in the story of King Ghidorah and their human Eva, this is their story. Please, enjoy (also give me feedback as I don’t usually write stories ^^)

A King Ghidorah fanfiction 

Dorat AU

„Wake up. Come on Ni, wake up boy. Time for walkies!“ A soft voice rings through the air, tickling Ni's ear. The Dorat stirs, sleepily opening one eye and looking around the living room. “Come on Ni-Ni! Don't you want to go outside?” His gaze falls upon a young human girl, standing by the door, hastily putting on her shoes and leashes on two other Dorats like him. His brothers watch him, waiting for him to move. Ni yawns, stretching his golden wings and climbs off the comfortable couch he was sleeping on, trotting over to his master.

She smiles, putting a red collar and leash on the third Dorat, giving him a pet on his fluffy head. “Good boy. Lets go!”

It's a sunny day today, the air is crisp and fresh. It's spring! Eva, their little master, loves this season the most. And they love seeing her happy.

The walk is the same as always. Passing by the same houses, going down the same streets, towards the park.

The park is great. It's big, big enough to stretch their wings and fly around all they want and play.

San, the youngest Dorat loves visiting the park. He's always so eager, flapping up and down, back and forth, almost crashing into his brothers and trilling happily.

Unlike their older brother Ichi, who glides gracefully through the air, looking down on all the passerby.

At the park, Eva lets her Dorats fly free and unzips her backpack, pulling out their toys, a blanket and some drinks and snacks.

Everything is great. They play, enjoy the sunshine and food. Master brought those fish crackers they like.

Ni is chasing another Dorat, a brown one, around the park. That one dared to take a toy! That thief! That one will pay!

A shriek pierces the air, disrupting the chase. Perplexed, Ni looks back. Master?

He watches in horror as a dog, a filthy beast, is attacking Eva. That thing dares to harm HIS MASTER?!

In a rage Ni races towards that monster, flying as fast as he can, not stopping for a second. He doesn't even notice Ichi and San also trying to get in between the girl and the dog.

Ni crashes into the foul beast, bearing his teeth and snarling. The thing yelps, rolling on the ground after the collision. The Dorat, though a bit smaller than the wild dog, put himself between the animal and the girl.

San and Ichi stay with Eva, hissing and screeching angrily, not moving from her side as she weeps and cries in pain, a puddle of blood already forming around her leg on the ground.

Ni growls, daring the dog to move. Do it! Come on! I'll tear you limp from limp!

Not that the dog would have understood it anyway.

In a flash the animal was upon Ni, biting and snapping at him. But Ni isn't afraid. All he sees is red. He bites and claws at it, chomping down on the beasts neck and shaking violently. Ni himself gets thrown around, bitten and scratched. It doesn't matter. He doesn't even feel it. Ni snaps at the soft neck of his opponent, biting and shaking him over and over. The dog screams, letting go of the smaller Dorat and jumps back. In a defiant stance, Ni stays between it and the girl. He growls. And finally his enemy yields and runs.

“NI! OH MY GOD! NIII!! NO!”

Ni turns, Eva approaches him with a limp and she wraps her arms around him.

“Ni! You're hurt! Oh my god, your ear! Your eye!”

A few hours later, Ni wakes up again. Was it a dream? He is in his bed, but something is blocking his view. Why can't he open his left eye? What is that thing?

“Be still, brother. Don't move. You need to heal.” Who is that? Oh, right. It's Ichi. Ichi looks down from his spot at the wall. He likes sitting there. San comes rushing to Ni's side, gently grooming him in a comforting manner. “Are you ok? That fight was really bad! You were lucky you didn't lose your eye, Ni!”

Fight? Oh, yes. Right. That dog. But, what about Eva? Is she ok? Ni looks around the bedroom, trying to see past that weird, round thing around his head. There she is. On the bed. “Ni. You're awake? I'm so glad you're ok!” She smiles, walking towards him and petting him, carefully stroking his back fur.

“The vet said you were really lucky! That dog almost got your eye with it's teeth. But your ear wasn't as lucky, half of it is missing.... Oh Ni, you were so brave! Thank you! I was so scared!”

She quivers, wiping off the tears from her soft, round face.

“You're my hero!”

Ni, not wanting to see her cry leans into her small hand and purrs reassuringly.

“You were hurt.” “It's ok, my leg is better now. Don't worry, everything is ok now. See?” She grins, showing hims her bandaged leg. “Rest now. You'll get a big treat later, ok? You're a good boy, Ni. I love you”

I love you

I love you

I love you....

Ni groans, opening his eyes and stretching his long, powerful neck. Groggily he looks around, spotting his brothers by his side. They've curled up around each other, still sleeping.

As always. Ni, first one to wake up and last one to fall asleep. He hates sleeping. Not sure when it started, but it's been a long time. Sleep brings dreams, memories he'd rather not see.

And now he has to wait for Ichi and San to wake. He sighs, keeping look out. Ni isn't known for being the patient one, but he can be. Not that he has much of a choice. It's not like he could just, get up and walk around. Not anymore. He could wake Ichi. A good bunt in the head would do. But that would also mean getting bit in the snout and right now he wasn't in the mood for a fight. Usually, yeah. But not right now.

His mood was too sour for that.

“Good morning Ni!” San has risen from his slumber and yawns, stretching and rubbing his head against his big brother in a greeting. “Did you sleep well?” Ni sighs. “Same as usual. You?” “Uhm.... I guess so. Got enough sleep at least.”

Ni wasn't the only one plagued by bad memories. San's weren't just memories. They were nightmares. Nightmares that had happened.

Sometimes the youngest brother would wake up screaming and thrashing during the night, begging to be “let out” and biting if you came too close. Ichi and Ni would have to subdue him together, just until the left head would calm down again.

Poor guy had been through a lot. They all have been. But it seems fate has been more cruel to the younger one. He had lost his head, quite literally, many times. Each time he lost more and more of his happy go lucky attitude, if only slowly.

But since that fat lizard had ripped him off last.... They know the memories. They weren't there, but San shared what had happened to him with them, after they reformed that last time.

Last time.... Was the worst. Things are a bit confusing, since they regenerated from a dead head, from a brain that had been dead for some time. They knew their old version had fought on, but their memories stopped after San's death, only to resurface once the humans did something to his brain, feeding him with the energy needed to come back to life.

They know of the pain and fear San had endured, being nothing but a thought in his own mind. Again. Again humans tried to control them, their minds, making them their toys!

But San didn't share everything with them, that they knew... Or they would know of the things he dreamed about and woke from, screaming for help.

They also heard what had happened to their old self. That that one was completely destroyed by the “King” of the monsters, with the help of his Queen.

It is weird to know that you did something, without being there yourself... Never before have they been.... two Ghidorahs. Can they even call it that? Are they themselves even real? Or just a copy?

They know each time a head dies, it grows back with all it's memories. But there had never been a time where.... They had to regenerate their whole being. Until now....

Ichi wakes, shifting and yawning before looking at San and Ni.

“How long have you two been awake?” “Oh hey Ichi, good morning. Not long yet. How was your night?” San smiles at the middle head, greeting him like he greeted Ni with a head rub.

“Luckily, uneventful. Full night rests have become rare” “Yeah.... sorry about that.” “Don't be, San. It's not your fault... Well, now that we're up, let's get out of here. I need some fresh air.”

With that, Ghidorah rose to their feet and walked out of the cave they had carved themselves some time ago. After they had regenerated, they had traveled the world for a while, not knowing what to do with themselves. They were thinking of going after Godzilla again, but..... They were just tired. So they made themselves a small home, if you could call it that, on monster island. They had made an agreement with Godzilla. While they would never yield and submit to him, they promised to stay out of his way and leave the humans alone. As long as they didn't destroy anything, they could be at piece.

Or at least by left alone. And the other Titans did leave them alone.

Wherever they went, the other Kaiju would run and hide. No one dared to try and talk with them.

Except for Godzilla, who would sometimes pass by and check if they still hold their part of the deal.

Sometimes Rodan would come and try to talk with them. That firebird is a huge chatterbox.

Right now Ghidorah made their way down the mountain they had made their cave in, living high above the others, where they had a good view over the island.

“Brothers, look there. A boat” Ni and Ichi look towards the sea, where San was pointing at. “Ugh, humans.... Those pests. They better not think about stepping on this island!” “Calm down brother. What do we care what they do? As long as they leave us alone, I don't give a crap.” Ichi snorts, moving their body down and to the other side of the mountain.

They walk towards a lake and San has a little drink. They don't really NEED to drink and eat, but it's a nice treat and it gives them something to do. One of the few things they can still enjoy, since destroying and conquering is now off the table. At least for now.

Ni looks at his reflection. It's him. But it's also not.

Gone is the round face and the big eyes, gone is the little snout and ears. Gone is the fur on his head and back.

Instead there is a long, strong snout, filled with rows of sharp teeth. His eyes are beady and red and his head adorned with jagged horns, sharp and deadly. Everything on them is sharp and deadly.

But the scar is still there.

He remembers, like in his dream. The scar that made him unique, a hero in that little girl's eyes.

But she's gone now, long dead.

Why is the scar still there? They can heal. And it was gone. But he made it again. For some reason, even though he wants to forget.... He scars himself over and over again, each time it heals, he takes one of their spiked tails to his face and draws blood. He's done it many time, he knows exactly where to cut, how to cut it. Each time a perfect copy.

And his horn. The second horn on the left, he always breaks it off. Where half his ear used to be.

Ichi keeps a look out, watching the smaller kaiju hiding in the shadows of the trees, waiting for them to leave and have a drink.

As they should. Useless lot, they are beneath them. Look at them quivering, shaken to their very core by their fear, Ghidorah's presence almost crushing them like little worms.

Ichi has always enjoyed looking down on others. Since he was a cup, he'd find the highest places and sit there, watching the others. He's always been more cruel than his brothers, that's just who he is. Not that he doesn't know how to be compassionate. He loves his brothers.

Sure, he reprimands them often, especially Ni, as he likes to act up and square off with Ichi.

But he still cares. And he'd do anything to protect them.

Once he cared for someone else. A little someone, though bigger than them at the time, but so small and fragile.

Somehow she made him want to protect her. To love her. And he did. He loved and protected and cared and vowed to stay forever-.... Until forever was over.

Gone were the good days, the days filled with happiness and love and care. Replaced with fear and pain and numbness instead.

They were like her. But they were not like her. Not soft and sweet and loving and warm. No high voices carrying nothing but goodness to his ear but instead, cries and screams and yells of malice and horror and the stench of rotting flesh and dry blood.

Their new “masters” were nothing like her. They never gave them the feeling of being safe. Only fear. Only pain. Only rage!

And then.... Nothing. Sleep without dreams, dreams without sleeping. Moving but unmoving.

Pain but no feeling.

And then they woke up. They woke at a cold place, nothing but ice and piercing cold and blinding white. No humans in sight. No... Her..... Alone. They were alone. And they were one.

They knew they were, have been for long. But now that they were awake, it was strange. Having to learn how to move again.

And the urge.... The urge to.... kill... destroy.... It was ebbed into their mind so deep, into their very core.... All they could think about was “Find Godilla. Kill him. Destroy him. Kill. Destroy. Kill. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy destroy destroy destroydestroydestroyde-....”

The thought was still there, once jackhammering in their head, now a soft drumming... They had found Godzilla. But that one was not the same they knew now. That one fought long and hard, made them weak and trapped them in the ice, where they had awoken the first time. And they slept.

And now.... The same thing. They found Godzilla, a different one, fought and lost again. Were killed this time and somehow they came back.

You'd think knowing that you were able to cheat death like this would make you stronger, would make you want to try again.... And maybe they will, one day. But now they're just tired....

“Hello?.... Are you there?” They look up. “Yes? What is it?” San looks to Ichi. “I didn't call you.” They look at Ni. “Wasn't me” “Can you hear me?”

Confused they look around. Was it one of them? One of the small ones hiding in the shadows?

“What do you want?” Ichi growls at the trees and the little kaiju skitter away quickly.

“It's me. I'm here.”

“Who the fuck is calling us?! Who is it?” They stand and Ni snarls and snaps at nothing.

“Come to me. I'm here. Are you there?”

“What the fuck?” Ichi grows more and more irritated, looking around but seeing no one.

“Come find me. Were you waiting?”

“Ichi.... I think it's coming from there.” San points back at the ocean again. Is it a water Titan? Manda perhaps?

“I swear if that snake is out making a fool of us then we'll have it for breakfast!”

“Good idea Ichi, sound delicious!”

They follow the voice, down to the shore. They don't see Manda, but the human boat is still there.

“Ohoh, it's the humans! It must be them. Of course. Why am I not surprised?”

“Wouldn't be the first time, Ni.” “Should we kill them?” “We can't, Godzilla-” “I know San, I know! But he never said we can't defend ourselves. If they try to attack us, it's free game!”

“My sweets....” They freeze. What did they just call them? No one ever called them that but-... No. No, she's gone.

“Can't you hear me? Please answer me. Remember our promise? I promised I'd come find you”

No... No, no no no, no! It's not true! This is a trick! They are tricking us!

San leans closer, looking down at the boat and the humans on board.

“Ichi... Ni... San.... Do you remember me?”

They stare. They stare at the human woman with the dark hair and eyes. The eyes they know, the eyes they only see in their dreams.

“It's her!” Sam rears ups, shocked and confused. It's her. She's back! She's come!

“Ichi, Ni, it's her! It's her! Master!” “NO! Get a grip San, it isn't!” Ichi roars, staring down at San. “This is a trick, clearly!”

“But-”

Ichi doesn't believe, doesn't trust. Ni wants to believe, wants to trust. San believes, San trusts.

San bends down again, trying to reach the boat, he needs to see her, smell her, touch her. “Master!”

“NO!” Ichi snaps, he grabs San by the scruff of his neck and pulls him away. They stagger, their body, twitching. The heads fight.

Middle tries to dominate left, biting and power grooming him into submission. Usually San would yield, but not this time. He rises, roaring at his brother in fury.

“STOP IT ICHI! It is her, I know it!”

“IT CAN'T BE SAN, SHE IS DEAD!” They are torn apart, feeling an array of feelings.

Yes! No! Want! Don't! Believe! Fear! Trust! Rage! Can't be! It is!

“STOP!!”

They stop. Ichi and San look at Ni. He glares at them. Is this what happens when they see a glint of what had been? It tears them apart just like this? How weak have they become, how low have they fallen?

“Brothers.... Please.... Who else could talk with us like that?” San pleads at Ichi and Ni, lowering his head. His eyes displaying nothing but sadness.

“Our connection is still there... After all this time, all those years our link is still strong. Who else but her could speak with us? Who else knows the names she gave us?”

All three heads turn to look back at the boat. The humans, pointing their weak little weapons at them, stare, waiting for them to move.

Except the woman. She stands at the railing, tears in her eyes, her face contorted as if in pain.

“Please, don't fight... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I promised you, remember? That I would find you, no matter what. I said I would come. And I am here now, my sweets.... Please forgive me....”

She cries. No humans ever cried for them but....

“Eva...?”

Her head snaps back up so fast, you could almost hear it crack. Ghidorah leans down towards the boat, all three heads until their noses almost touch it.

They look at her. The face, the scar of the dog bite on her leg. The way she smiles. They smell her.

Like spring. She smells like spring. Like her favorite season. And fish crackers. She reaches out, placing her soft, small hand on Ichi's snout and smiles that smile that sings of love and happy memories.

“I'm sorry.... Did you wait long?”

#King Ghidorah #King Ghidorah fanfiction #Dorat #Dorat AU #King Ghidorat #King Ghidorah Dorat AU #Human OC #King Ghidorah and Eva #My headcanon #King Ghidorah backstory #King Ghidorah backstory Dorat AU #Fluff #Angst

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Mission

With a black umbrella held over his head, Lu Mingfei looked up at the Cassell Clinic on the top floor.  The rain fell in white drops from the dark cloud overhead, hitting his face and running down his cheeks like tears. Tigre was back in hospital after a huge blackout had rocked the campus. Lu Mingfei had been called to a meeting in the Library.

Four somber professors had faced him. Guderian, his mentor and recruiter all those years ago, Schneider, the leader of the Executive Department and the mentor of Chu Zihang, his Senior Brother, Manstein, mentor to Nono and leader of the Disciplinary committee,and Toyama, the school Psychologist and mentor to Tigre.

They stood in front of a holographic map that displayed the border of the United States and Mexico. A bright red circle was hovering somewhere near Texas.

Did they really have to explain? Whatever that angry red circle meant it had to be something big for all of them to be here and, given the recent events, he wouldn’t be surprised at a direct attack. 

Lu Mingfei was just tired.

And who wouldn’t be? The idea of fighting dragons never appealed to him. It was true that he’d rather be here than wasting away in his Chinese hometown. But did he always have to choose between two extremes? Either wasting his life on pointless pursuits, or risking it in grave danger. 

He’d managed to make a few friends, but they were all gone. He came to Cassell for Nono. Now Nono left to do Bridal Training after accepting Caesar’s proposal. Caesar was gone managing the Italy Branch in Rome. And Chu Zihang was wandering the world doing missions. Not even Fingel was here, reassigned to Cuba weeks ago. Technically, he was supposed to be running the Student Union, but Isabel was the one who followed him around and did everything for him most of the time. As for the rest of the Student Union, he had little in common with them. Those people were obsessed with their assets and dignitaries and properties and procedures, and none of these things interested him. His life was suddenly very dull. You would think that having this mission would excite him. He just groaned when the message came on his phone.

Now he was fighting dragons without even his friends for company.. He dreaded it. Not even the Little Devil was interested in his mission. Usually that irritating child would pop up if there was a lucrative opportunity for him to try to get him to sell his life away. 

Lu Mingfei sighed to himself and said nothing.

Guderian frowned a bit but then continued. “Now that we’re all here. Let’s get started. Norma? Please report.”

“Gladly.” The ethereal translucent blue girl floated down like an angel from the ceiling. “I scanned the records for similar EMP reports around the area where the student called “Tigre” was discovered and found three separate instances. In the Chihuahuan desert.”

The map zoomed in and three X marks appeared. “What is more, these EMPs correspond to a spike in deaths and disappearances from migrants crossing the border into the US from Mexico. It is said that hundreds disappear at this time never to be seen again. While some disappearances can be explained as natural, it’s possible that they are related to dragons. This particular route is called the “La Ruta de Muerte”. it's rumored that no one who passes through this route ever makes it to the other side.”

A long blood red trail was marked on the map. “It is about 10 miles long in total. However, we will only need to concern ourselves with the inmost trail. Because this matches the information given to us by Doctor Toyama.”

“The evidence is still shaky. It is difficult to confirm anything. The desert environment efficiently removes all traces of bodies. However, we have been able to receive confirmed sightings of aberrant creatures within the vicinity for quite some time. It wasn’t until Toyama’s vision that we believe we have enough evidence to put together a team.”

“Vision?” Mingfei turned to look at him. He didn’t know much about Toyama. There was not much reason for him to see a psychologist. 

Toyama stepped forward and handed him a black folder. “These are all my findings so far. We believe that some sort of dragon has come into contact with Tigre. That is why his dragon blood purity is so high without him turning into a Death Servitor. What the 3E detected wasn't him, but what was inside him.”

“Inside?” Lu Mingfei opened the folder.

“The EMP that shook the campus occured when we tried to run an MRI on Tigre. Whatever is implanted in his skull woke up and used an EMP as a defense mechanism.” 

“Wait… Tigre has a dragon… in his head?” Lu Mingfei stared at the picture of the eye shaped scar on Tigre's scalp. "A tattoo of an eye…"

"Chu Zihang reported an eye shaped mark on a man captured by the hybrid smuggling ring where Tigre came from." Schneider said. "He attempted to free that man but when he damaged that eye-shaped mark, the man died."

Lu Mingfei's eyes suddenly turned dull. "What do you want me to do?"

“Right now, Tigre is our only lead. He provided us with a vision of a great tree that is growing out of a dragon. We are not certain what that vision means but we believe that sending him with you is the only way to find the mystery at the center of all this..” Toyama said.

Lu Mingfei lifted his head from the folder. "What? Isn't he just a freshman? But he's your student?!"

Toyama sighed, but didn't reply. “There are no reports of any such large tree and this environment would not support a tree of this size. We believe that the tree is residing in a Nibelungen. It's possible you will not be able to reach it without him."

Lu Mingfei took the stairs to the fifth floor. Physical training had made him physically stronger, and his experience in Genji Heavy Industries turned him off elevators forever.

He entered the vault using his phone. Tigre was once again in bed, sleeping but now he was hooked up to a lot more monitoring equipment.  A dozen little paper disks adhered electrodes to his head. EVA was likely monitoring his brain waves.

When Tigre turned to look, he had no contacts in, but wore sunglasses.  His eyes were clear and innocent. "It's too early for dinner…" He said.

"I'm not here to bring you food. You've�� been assigned to me for a Dragonslaying mission." Mingfei had heard those words so many times. But this was the first time saying them. He felt sick. How could it be possible that words could taste so disgusting? Is it because he finally understood their meaning? 

Or was it because he finally was on the other side of it. As a freshman student, he was clueless of the danger. There was no way anyone could have been able to tell him what he was in for without scaring him off. But they knew.

That's what sickens him now. 

When Chu Zihang was recovering, Lu Mingfei tried to visit him as much as he could, but while he was at his bedside, Zihang confessed everything.  He'd wanted to save the man in the smuggling ring. Release his contact with the illegal organization.  He wanted to let the doctors go… but he'd failed all of that. 

"But Tigre is doing well." Chu Zihang turned and looked at him, covered in bandages, tubes and wires. "Please care for him. I can't be here to help."

"Are you alright?"

Lu Mingfei suddenly realizes he's been silent for several seconds.  He laughs, completely changing demeanor.  "Oh I'm fine! Fine! I daydream a lot. There have been times I've just completely zoned out and missed a flight or a train. Don't mind it."

Tigre smiles a little.  "What's the Dragonslaying mission about?"

Lu Mingfei's smile fades a bit. "Oh you won't have a big role. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of most of it. Just… treat it like a field trip."

#Dragon Raja

[morepeachyogurt]

As the year comes to a close I thought I’d join the trend and do some mutual appreciation!! I love every single one of you but here are the people I’ve actually interacted with 💞💞

@royalpenelope Grace!! You were one of my first friends on here and I treasure all of our interactions, also you’re one of the funniest fucking people on here,I absolutely hope you have a good year and hope we talk more! I love you so so much!! (Regardless of the je*d content and questionable taste)

@pretty-b0yy Simi! You were also one of my first friends and I love how kind and positive you are! Thank you for putting up with me and your unwavering confidence in me! I love you so much!!

@thestrawberrygirl you’re like one of the most talented people on earth I swear, I’m in awe of you!! I love talking to you so much and learning about your batshit crazy life is the highlight of my nights!! Much love to you darling, and I hope we talk soon!

@kermitsaysgayrights Sophia!!!!! I was so excited when you followed me a couple weeks ago and now I’d like to think we’re close friends ands that cool as hell!! We have the same brain!!Thank you for instigating the penemily mafia it’s a blast. Your writing us just lovely and I wish nothing but the best for you. (And for you to get a better sleep schedule and drink water but that’s beside the point 💞)

@ssaemxlyprentxss Viv! You were one of my very first followers and I didn’t quite now who fucking cool that was at the time! Your edits are fantastic and I love seeing your random posts. Thank you for letting me make a satire hate blog about you it was fun! Muah

@scandinavian-punk yashasree! You’re so cool!! I had tons of fun with Jeanne and I think your really neat! I hope you have a lovely 2021!

@lizziechase @elizabeth-chase (I forgot which one you’re using while making this) abbie!! I love your gifs and seeing other content! Your blog is so so cool! I hope wandavision is everything you could wish for and I look forward to seeing you talk about it!!

@jordantodds hey Erin! (You’re asleep but) you’re so cool and very chaotic I have a blast interacting with you! I hope we talk more in the future xx

@haleymalaffey my tumblr mom Haley!!! I love love your unwavering optimism and your daily showering of love it’s such a joy to see you on my dash! I love you and I wish you a very pleasant year!

@peanutbutterworm your art is so cool?!?! Like really!! I enjoy seeing you in my notifications and on my dash! Keep it up it’s nifty!!

@penemily rose, I’m still shocked you follow me to be honest?! You’re one of the funniest people on here and I love all of your content. Not to mention all of your writing is so beautiful and eloquent.

@prentizz hi Noel! You’re so funny and sweet!! I really really enjoy interacting with you and hope to continue to do so in the future. I wish you good luck with all your things! Muah

@gaymemeaesthetic pluto! You’re so funny and you seem like a blast! We don’t talk a bunch but we should! I hope this year goes well for you!!

@babey-jj layla!! I have a blast talking to you! Especially during my chaotic ask hours! You’re so fun and I love love seing you on my dash. Ily!!

@rosesblueviolets hi Eva! You’re so sweet and I really enjoy talking to you and you are an incredible writer! I hope we talk more!

@abitcriminalminds yas! We don’t talk but you’re really cool and sweet!! Not to mention hilarious, I know it’s already New Years where you are but I wish you a lovely 2021

@abbyprentiss Abby, you seem really fun! I haven’t spoken to you much but I’d love to in the future! You’re a joy to see on my dash

@derek-morgan-love-squad thank you for sending me the sweetest things! You seem so full of joy and love and I really admire that!

@emilyprntiss hi ana! Your gifs are really really good! I also enjoy seeing you on here and we should talk more. Xx

@fuckshitupm8-deactivated3728 Maggie! We don’t talk (and we should) but you seem very very sweet! And very talented, keep on keeping on (idk)

@hellskitchensmurdock ainsley! I love love seeing you on here! Thank you for always reading my fics that’s so cool of you, you’re like the best and you seem super sweet. Ily

@reidology hi Maeve! We don’t talk but I wanted to wish you a happy new year!

@shemar-moores-titties lilith! You’re really cool and I have fun interacting with you. Thank you for the insane energy you give I love it!

@agentshortstacc joey! We don’t talk but hi! And I hope you have a nice New Years!

@moreidism hi iqa! I love your content and I hope you have a fantastic year!

People I’m not moots with but enjoyed their content this year- @criminalmindsgonewrong @gothwyfe @ellesupremacy @appalachianapologies @ag-ib @themetaphorgirl

I hope I didn’t miss anyone!! I love you guys!

#Lucy gets sappy #these got repetitive and I’m sorry!!! #I’m not great with words #muah #so much love #mine!

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 01

↳ in a pornographic movie, refers to a series of sex scenes with no plot.

⇁ female reader x hoseok 

⇁ smut, porn star!au

⇁ sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification (not the sexy kind), role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, porn star level dirty talk, stuff that should never happen in a kitchen bc hygiene, daddy kink, impreg kink, rough sex, spanking, a lot of finger sucking, this fic is a poor attempt at social commentary

⇁ 22.5k

. . .

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳ or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | inspired by the piece ‘slut-shaming: pornstars are humans too’ & the life after porn documentaries on netflix. thank u to jordan, eva, amy, venus, addie and lu for being a part of this collab !! *inserts a million heart emojis and a big fat NUT emoticon*

re:warnings, the slut shaming is done by others and can also be considered as internalized oppression. it’s something the reader struggles with and eventually works to overcome. this first part isn’t as smutty as the second but regardless i hope u can bear with me lol. ty, as always, for giving my writing a chance. i hope u enjoy it or at least take something from it !

wall2wall can be read as a sequel to my fic money shot. same disclaimer applies: this story does claim to accurately portray the world of adult entertainment

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SCENE 01 - YOU’VE GOT MALE. TAKE 01. ROLL A.

.

Today is just one of those days you wish you had slept straight through. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t be dying from the sheer dullness of having nothing to do.

You huff out a sigh, bored out of your goddamn mind.

Head cradled in the crook of your left palm, you use your available hand to refresh your instagram feed. Much to your disappointment, nothing new shows up. The same video of a dog chasing its own tail plays on but you pay it no heed, the novelty having worn off after the first few times.

The next half hour passes by in a similar fashion, each result proving to be as unavailing as the last. You’d think that after a while you’d give up and find a new distraction to pass the time but whether out of habit or boredom-induced insanity, you persist with your fruitless attempts.

Today really fucking blows, you think glumly, the curve of your mouth thinning into a grimace. As the adorable corgie keeps the infernal cycle going, yapping and running around incessantly, you’re struck with a terrifying thought. Maybe this is how you will die - condemned to live your life stuck in the worst sort of monotony imaginable.

What you had expected to be a “quick and easy” shoot has turned into a tedious ordeal that you don’t see ending anytime soon. And whilst on-set complications and prolongations are frequent enough that they’re almost expected, today really takes the cake. Even during your rookie days, you can’t recall running into delays of this scale.

To top it off, the weather app announces a record-breaking heat - which in itself is bad enough. As luck would have it, it gets worse. The place rented out for today’s filming lacks proper air conditioning, equipped instead with electric fans that look like they’ve been around since the 1980s.

A quick glance into the vanity mirror confirms that you look as frazzled as you feel. Because of the humidity level that weighs down the air, your hair is in a right state. You fight a grimace off your face. The straggly hair coupled with the oily sheen on your face...it’s far from your best look, to say the least.

And to think thousands of people will get to see it up close in 1080p resolution... It’s a terrifying concept.

You’re already dreading the upcoming sex scenes that you’ve yet to film. It’s always a messy affair - fluids of all kind end up literally everywhere - but the sweltering heat undoubtedly makes it ten times worse. A shudder works its way down your spine.

Frankly speaking, the mere thought of having hot and wild sex in these less than ideal working conditions kills your libido. Under the glaring studio lights, surrounded by sweaty crewmen and pressed up an equally feverish body - it’s basically the porn equivalent of a fuckin’ barbecue party.

Yeah, no thanks. You’d rather be at home, with the air conditioner at full blast, nestled in the comfy cushions of your sofa as you marathon a series of your choice on netflix. Only the promised sum of money keeps you from bolting and calling it quits altogether.

“So when are you gonna drop the new boy toy?” a voice buzzes in your ear not unlike a pesky fly.

Tempting as it is to ignore it, you peel your eyes away from your reflection just in time to catch Seokjin shoot you the most unimpressed look in his repertoire, one perfectly groomed eyebrow arched in judgment.

In the background, an old ceiling fan whirs on but does nothing to cool you off. If anything, its constant rattling only exacerbates your growing headache.

“What are you talking about?" You flick a piece of imaginary lint off your dressing robe, your tone neutral.

Seokjin’s brown eyes see right through your feigned air of indifference. Months of working by your side have made him an expert at reading your body language, be it naked or clothed. A wolfish grin adorns his face as he swoops in for the kill.

“Oh come on. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Jongmin. He’s short - comes up to right about here.” Seokjin holds a hand up to his chest to illustrate his point, deliberately shaving off a few inches off your boyfriend’s height in order to antagonize you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, careful not to spit out the retort that’s perched on the tip of your tongue. It takes a great deal of effort to unclench the muscles in your jaw but you manage to school your features into an expression of polite confusion.

Seokjin frowns, dissatisfied with your lack of response. You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that he’s currently thinking of new ways to provoke you.

When the silence stretches on and he’s yet to riposte, you allow yourself  to relax again, believing that he’s given up on being an asshole.

To your chagrin, you’re sorely mistaken. The last of your self-restraint is finally put to the test as his next words do nothing to quell your irritation.

“Jongmin.” He repeats slowly, like you need it spelled out for you. “He follows you around everywhere like a lap dog. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so, you know, pathetic.”

“His name is Jimin,” you correct for the nth time.

Instantly, you reprimand yourself for playing into his games and granting him the attention he so craves. Fulfilling his twisted desire is the last thing you hope to achieve. Staying silent would be the sensible thing to do but your brain completely bypasses the memo. The moment your mouth opens it’s impossible to quash the urge to justify yourself.

Maybe it’s your pride coming into play. Maybe it’s Seokjin’s uncanny ability to get under anyone’s skin at will. Whatever the case may be, you stammer out, on the defensive, “And he’s not my 'boy toy'. We - it’s not - we’re dating.” But the word feels like a weight on your tongue. You swallow.

The statement earns you a scoff of incredulity. “Dating? Him?”

You finally set your phone down and aim a glare his way, abandoning all pretense at being indifferent because—Jesus. Is the idea of you dating that unfathomable? He’s never been this worked up over any of your other relationships. Granted, none of them have ever lasted this long but is it really any of his business who you choose to see in your free time?

“I don’t get what your problem is. What’s so wrong with me dating?”

“Have you seen who you’re dating?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

While this isn’t the first time your agent lets a judgmental comment slip from between his pearly white teeth, it’s usually not laced with spite. Seokjin is never outright hostile, preferring sweet words of manipulation and thinly-veiled insults to shows of aggression. The attempt to get a rise out of you does not go by unnoticed. His anger, this time, feels personal.

You wrack your brain, quickly sifting through your recent memories to try and figure out why he’s chosen to be such an ass today. You’re certain that you’ve filled out all the necessary paperwork required to proceed with today’s filming, and yes, after thinking it over, you know that you went to the obligatory medical checkup last week. So there really is no reason for him to bitch at you unless—

The proverbial light bulb flickers on and it all suddenly makes sense.

You’re willing to bet a hefty sum of money that the high-paying gig you turned down two weekends ago is to blame for his abnormal crotchety behavior.

Yes, that would explain it.

Due to Seokjin's well-known propensity to hold a grudge for longer than average, the odds that he’s still hung up over the lost deal are pretty high. And as much as his disappointment and frustration are understandable from a business standpoint, you don’t appreciate being used as a verbal punching bag for him to expel all those pent-up feelings.

Seokjin hums, a knowing smirk pulling the sides of his mouth upwards. Fleetingly, and not for the first time, you find it a shame that his cockiness tarnishes his otherwise handsome face. “I give it another couple of days until you get bored. How long has this gone on for? A month? How are you not yanking out your hair from the sheer boredom of dating...that."

A muscle in your jaw ticks.

“He’s not Voldemort, you coward. Would it honestly kill you to say his name?” Seokjin’s expression begs to differ. You cut him off before he can add fuel to the fire. “And I won’t get bored. Jimin’s - he’s a perfectly nice guy. We’ve been seeing each other just fine—not that it’s any of your concern.”

“Yes, he’s nice,” Seokjin concedes easily, brushing off any attempts at putting an end to the conversation. He grins, wide and smug, like he knows you can’t refute what he’ll say next. “Perfectly nice and boring. The kind of guy you’d bring back home if your parents were straight-laced folks that wanted to marry you off to a choir boy. Seriously, how the fuck did a guy like him end up in the porn industry? He belongs in a church or, I dunno, maybe some neighborhood book club - not behind a camera filming you getting flogged by a daddy dom.”

You sniff. “Just because he tucks his shirts in doesn’t—”

“It’s not just the shirts, honey.” He leans over to pat your hand in a gesture of consolation. Used to his antics, his attempt is easily blocked by a swat of your hand.

You muster the dirtiest look you’re capable of, the kind of look that sends men to early graves, but he simply smiles in response, completely unfazed.

Any person with the minimum amount of tact would know to politely change the subject. It’s unfortunate that your agent does not belong to that pool of individuals, choosing instead to be selectively blind to overt social cues.

He continues on, unperturbed, like he has a point to prove. “Believe it or not, I know you. Sometimes, for whatever reason, perhaps a lapse in judgement but who the fuck knows, you like to venture out of your comfort zone and experiment. Like with the chickenshit gingerbread spice concoctions they come out with at Starbucks to celebrate turkey season and Christmas or the cream cheese makis they make for the white crowd who want to eat sushi but don’t like anything other than white rice and seaweed. And, trust me, while I’m all for diversity and broadening your personal experiences, don’t you think there’s a reason why you always go back to your preferred choice of an iced latte with two sugars?”

“Did you just compare Jimin to a gingerbread latte?”

Okay, so admittedly you’ve made some questionable food and beverage choices in the past, but the comparison is a fucking reach. 

“You’re absolutely right." Seokjin gives a firm nod of his head, his expression serious. "Now that you mention it, he’s definitely a vanilla soy. Bland and boring. Targeted towards the middle-aged soccer moms that think veganism is a trend, not a lifestyle. Wants to be a people-pleaser but misses the mark.”

“I didn’t know it was Share Your Unwanted Opinion Time,” you grind out from behind a strained smile. “If I had, I would have said something about your receding hairline earlier.”

It’s a low blow but the way Seokjin’s plump lips curl in displeasure makes the dig worth it. One of his hands automatically shoot up to flatten the bangs that are usually slicked back with copious amounts of gel.

Offended, he spits, “It’s not receding! There’s a difference between premature balding and a bleach job gone wrong.”

"I'm not sure people care to differentiate. Looks like a receding hairline to me." You shrug while picking at your nails. “You’re nearing that age, too, so.”

“You just try looking this good at 30. Fucking try.” 

He waits for a reply but your interest has already waned. You scroll through your phone, bored once more.

Seokjin makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat at the clear dismissal. You swear you hear him grumble under his breath - something along the lines of never going blonde again - but can’t find it in you to care, not when he’s finally ceased his nagging.

"Filming in twenty!" someone shouts from outside the door.

"They’re running behind schedule," Seokjin notes after glancing down at his gold wristwatch. "How can they take more than an hour to fix the lighting? Tch. Bunch of fuckin’ amateurs."

He aims a glare in your direction as if their incompetence is somehow your fault. 

You have half a mind to glower back but miraculously withhold your sentiments. Admittedly, he isn’t wrong - the team you’re working with today keeps committing blunders even rookies wouldn’t dare perpetrate - but you’d rather get your driving license revoked forever than to acknowledge that Seokjin’s right and inflate his already unnaturally huge ego.

Something heavy plops into your lap. When you look down, the glossy surface of a magazine reflects the harsh lights suspended over the vanity table back at you.

“I didn’t want to resort to this but you leave me no choice,” he says in response to your look of confusion.

“What’s this?”

You hold up the magazine expecting the worst. It’s heavy in your hands, the pages thicker than the gossip rags you’d find in a dentist’s waiting room. 

“’s the newest issue. Came out this morning. I’d actually like it back once you’re done because I haven’t finished reading it and God knows how hard it was to get my—hey, you can stop flicking aimlessly, I saved you the trouble and bookmarked the page,” Seokjin explains a bit impatiently.

When you shoot him a glance, his attention is trained on your face, not the magazine. He barely blinks. Like a snake honing in on its prey. And that kind of intense focus - that can’t be good. After all, you’ve known Seokjin long enough to suspect that whatever trick he has up his sleeve will give him the advantage he needs to deliver the killing blow.

Gingerly, you flip through the pages like you’re afraid the magazine might self-destruct in your hands. Which would be a waste, in your opinion, since Exquis is a damn good magazine - perhaps less intellectual than Playboy, but definitely classier than Hustler. Its reputation speaks for itself. Known for hiring the best photographers and carefully combing through their models, it’s selective, only picking the cream of the cr—

Everything around you stills.

Your eyes narrow at the spread because there, on the page Seokjin’s taken great care to bookmark, a model poses provocatively on a lounge chaise near a crystal clear pool. It’s similar to a shoot you’ve done in the past but you can tell right away that the quality of this is above and beyond anything you’ve ever done. The lighting is better, heck even the barely-there-swimsuit looks like it costs ten times more than whatever you had been told to throw on at the time.

The vexation you feel only worsens once it finally registers who the model is. Her youthful and pretty face carries a permanent haughtiness that not even makeup or acting can entirely mask.

The pages crease in your hold as you flick through the rest of the spread dedicated to the up and coming talents. With every new page that has her plastered on its glossy surface you feel your stomach sink. 

2...3...4...

“Five pages,” you curse under your breath. For a magazine this renowned, it’s...a lot. Commendable, even. Your nose crinkles. “Well, fuck. me. sideways.”

Seokjin gloats, reveling in your outrage. “Hmph. I told you, didn’t I? Passing up the opportunity to work with Kim Namjoon would come and bite you in the ass.”

“Aha! So you have been a little bitch because I refused to shoot with Namjoon.” You whirl around in your chair and use the magazine to jab him in the chest. He easily steps aside, avoiding your attempt at wrinkling his trademark Armani button-down shirt.

“It was the chance of a lifetime and you knew it.” He turns his nose up and sniffs.

“That’s what you said about filming with Min Yoongi last month.” You roll your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously if you’re gonna say the same thing every time a new guy shows up.”

“Shooting with Agust D did help you gain some mainstream popularity. You’ve gotten love calls for catalog printings and your name is now automatically on the invite sheet for every C-list event in town. Namjoon would have given you another needed boost.” Seokjin folds his arms, lecturing mode switched on. You struggle with the instinctive urge to tune him out. “Sure, he’s got a niche audience, but he’s famous in his field and it would have helped expand your fa—“

“Not to kink shame or anything because we don’t do that, but Namjoon is a freak. And don’t deny it, I’ve seen his videos.”

“He’s specialized in particular—“

“You were the one telling me not to film all sorts of shit right off the bat,” you cut in, refusing to back down from your stance. There’s no way you’ll let him sweet-talk you out of this one, not after the multiple videos of Namjoon you’d binged one weekend. “Stick to one story.”

“Well, we’re not exactly ‘right off the bat’ anymore, are we? We’ve passed that stage. Right now is a crucial time in your career so you’ve got to make it count. Filming rehashed videos of the same pizza delivery guy scenario gets boring and fast. As pretty as you are, you’re not offering anything new to the table, are you?”

Fuck him. He’s right and you know it. Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman.

Still. “I refuse to work with a guy whose porn alias is Cock Monster.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Well I said no,” you insist stubbornly.

“Well if you had said yes, maybe it would be your ass cheeks getting their own two page spread in Exquis instead,” jabs Seokjin, hitting you where it hurts. 

Ugh. The reminder that Joy’s bested you yet again riles you up even more. That, coupled with the likelihood of your career ending imminently, makes you stop and think.

Your agent goes on to say, “Don’t you want the AVN for best newcomer? Where did that competitive edge go? At the rate this is going, Joy’s going to steal it from right under your nose.”

“Like fucking hell,” you hiss. The magazine bends under the strength of your grip. “That one’s mine.”

You absolutely refuse to lose out to her. Every fiber of your being rejects the idea of letting her one-up you again.

“Not if you don’t start branching out. The last time you did anything substantial or interesting was about a month ago. It’s already old news. People are going to forget you shot that sequence altogether if you don’t do anything that puts you back on the map.”

A pause. “…I really don’t want to film with someone who willingly named himself Cock Mons—”

“Fine.” Seokjin heaves a resigned sigh. “You don’t have to fuck the monster willy. Willy monster? Hm. Wouldn’t it make more sense to name himself Monster Cock and not Cock Monster? Wonder why he does th—”

You suppress a snort. “Please spare me while you can. It’s amazing, that talent for making everything sound a lot worse than it already it is.”

“Why, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“You trying to insult someone who’s willing to find you someone else to work with? I can always ask Monster Meatstick if he’s up for—”

“No! No, that’s - not necessary.” You force out a smile that wouldn’t fool anyone into thinking its genuine. “Why would I ever insult you? You’re the best agent one could ask for.”

“That’s what I thought.” He takes your compliment, forced or not. When he smiles, smugness rolls off of him in waves. “One day you’ll realize you’re taking my talent for granted. I’ll find you another onscreen partner even though you don’t know what you’re missing out.”

“Thank you.”

“But!” He interjects and this time you don’t bother swallowing down your groan, already dreading the stipulations he has in store for you. “You have to promise to hold up your end of the bargain and try your best.”

Indignation colors your face. Your mouth falls open, retort at the ready. “When do I ever slack off on the job?! I’ve never given a half-assed blowjob in my life - and trust me, the temptation was there. Do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when the guy can’t cum on command? I once had to get my jaw realigned.”

“I’m not saying you’re slacking off,” he backtracks, switching tactics. His expression is soon replaced by the business-like smile you’re used to seeing on the regular. Tone buttery and appeasing, he tries to convince you through flattery instead. “You work hard and do a good job… I wouldn’t have signed you on otherwise. The problem isn’t with the quality of your work but with - all the rest.”

“The rest?” you parrot back dumbly, trying and failing to comprehend.

Seokjin scowl returns, unable to keep his genuine emotions under wraps.

“D’you honestly think you’re at a point in your career where you can pick and choose your jobs like this? Ever since you started dating that - that thing - your workload has significantly decreased. And not because you lacked opportunities. You had them but you turned them all down.” Visibly getting worked up over the issue, his voice rises an octave, then two. “What should’ve been a good spring board, only brought you back to square one. I know I can’t force you to take jobs if you refuse to, but I can say that your potential is going to waste. I’ve never seen someone sabotage herself like this before and it’s driving me up the wall. While I get that you’re under the delusion that you’ve found true love or whatever Disney fantasy Jungmin has sold you, you can’t turn down projects over and over again without there being serious repercussions. You’re smart enough to know this. I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

Seokjin’s chest heaves as he takes in several big gulps of air, visibly out of breath after his monologue.

For him to explode like popcorn kennels in the microwave... You reckon he’d let his feelings pile up inside him for a while, silently stewing.

You’ve never seen your agent look so visibly distressed. He’s normally the picture-perfect image of composure so the sight that greets you is enough of a shock to render you speechless.

Deep down, Seokjin probably means well. There aren’t a lot of agents like him; you’re one of the lucky ones. Most girls are discarded by their agencies as quickly as used tissues once they get milked for all their worth. 

Thankfully it’s never been that way with Seokjin. He claims that he’s in it for the long run. According to him the quick buck isn’t worth seeing the light die out in girl after girl. Perhaps that’s why he takes the task of ensuring your safety so seriously. How many times has he warned you to steer clear of this or that seedy director or ban you from attending drug-heavy parties? While his behavior can come off as overbearing on the worst days, at least he cares.

Sadly, it’s more than you can say for most.

In a way, he’s the only one in this business rooting for your success—if only because his paycheck depends on how well you perform. You like to pretend there’s more to it than that.

“I’m not - what’s Jimin got to do with any of this?” you splutter, still digesting the long tirade you’ve just been subjected to. 

“Are you serious? That’s all you got from what I said?”

“Well, no, but I still fail to—”

“Do you think me a fool?” He crosses his arms tightly across his broad chest. “The only scenes you’re willing to shoot are when he’s on set. Are you a kid or something? Since when do you need supervision to shoot a sex scene?”

“N-no. It just worked out that way, okay?” In reply to his dubious expression, you force yourself to explain. “Okay, okay - I get it. Maybe I might’ve lessened my workload recently but it has nothing to do with Jimin, alright? My vagina needs rest from time to time. Just because it’s my job doesn’t mean I don’t need a break. I’m human too, not some blow-up doll.”

“You expect me to believe that he has nothing to do with it? You were perfectly fine before he entered the picture. And now that you’re all loved up you only pick—”

A knock, so timid you barely catch it, cuts off the rest of his sentence.

“Yeah? Come in, I’m decent!” you yell - not that you care whether someone sees you naked or not. The concept of modesty has long been lost on you. Some might call it shamelessness or vanity, but you take pride in how you look. And why wouldn’t you? Your body is your bread and butter. You spend hours in the gym every week so that your ass looks good no matter what camera angle.

“It’s me.”

The door opens a crack and the speaker tentatively sticks his mop of hair through the small opening. As soon as you recognize him, your heart leaps at the sight and you quickly tighten your robe together.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.

You resist the urge to throttle him and plaster on your brightest smile instead.

“I wanted to see how you were doing. Sorry I took so long... I would’ve come earlier but they needed my help.” Jimin scratches a spot behind his ear, sheepish. “Someone tripped over the cables and smashed a camera lens so we had to find a replacement. The director threw a fit and wanted to call it quits so we’ve been trying to calm him down this entire time. He did - eventually, anyway, after he called his dealer on set.”

A disapproving frown tugs at his mouth corners and mars his otherwise perfect appearance.

You take a moment to swoon internally. You’ll never get tired of admiring your boyfriend. Unlike the majority of the on-set personnel, he doesn’t reek of weed or booze or stale cigarette smoke. His ironed clothes and immaculate appearance always make it easy to spot him amidst the hungover crew.

“That’s fine! I kept myself busy.”

Jimin returns your smile, his eyes creasing into beautiful half-moon crescents. You don’t know what kind of love-struck expression covers your face but next to you Seokjin makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a gag and a cough.

“Oh! Here, I brought snacks. I didn’t know what you liked so I just grabbed everything I could get my hands on.” He holds up a paper plate stacked with treats no doubt stolen from the catering service. “I know I kind of went overboard but I wanted to make sure you kept your sugar level up.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you coo, reaching to take the plate from him. He’s piled on the sweets so high that it’s a miracle nothing has toppled over yet. You aren’t especially hungry but take a bite out of a chocolate candy to show how much you appreciate the effort. Its gooey consistency melts on your tongue, the taste so sweet it sticks to your teeth.

“How adorable,” chimes in Seokjin, his hand grabbing a licorice stick from the mountain of candy before you can swat him away. “Thanks Jongmin.”

“Jimin,” he corrects good-naturedly, his smile not budging an inch. You think, privately, that’s what you like the most about him. Not many have the ability to block out Seokjin’s bullshit so effectively.

“Mmh,” your manager says around a mouthful of candy. “Seokjin. Pleasure.”

You elbow him while gritting your teeth. “Can you...give us a moment?”

Seokjin swallows down the treat and opens his mouth in protest. He has the audacity to look betrayed. “You’re kicking me out of our room so the two of you can get it on? Really?” 

Jimin’s cheeks flush and you quickly cut in before your agent can make matters worse.

"I just want to talk without you breathing down my neck. Weren’t you going off earlier about how I didn’t need adult supervision anymore? Well?”

“Fine. Fine! But you owe me. Again.” He grabs his portable phone charger from the vanity table before making his exit. “And don’t forget what we talked about!”

What a fucking drama queen. You have no idea why he always insists on making a scene when you know for a fact that he would’ve left of his own volition in five minutes anyway. For reasons he has no trouble disclosing, he can’t stand Jimin’s presence.

“I won’t,” you grumble just so that you can get him out of your hair faster.

The door slams shut with more force than strictly necessary. Silence hangs in the air for a brief moment before Jimin turns his warm gaze towards you.

“What was that about?” 

“Uh, nothing. You know how he is...” You play with the ends of your braided hair. “He can’t go very long without throwing a tantrum.’

“He seems very protective of you,” remarks Jimin, a thoughtful expression painting his angelic face. “I think that’s why he’s not that fond of me.”

“Nonsense,” you rebut immediately as you take his hands in yours. “Who could ever not like you?”

Jimin allows his lips to quirk into a small, self-deprecating smile that you promptly erase with a kiss. His lips feel pillow-soft against yours, and you let yoruself indulge in the feeling before pulling back.

You sigh, remembering the scene you’ve yet to film. “If only my co-star was you.”

He laughs at that. “Seokjin would probably throw a fit, huh?”

.

.

Jimin treats you to dinner that night.

He chooses the restaurant. It’s a small, quaint place, tucked into a hidden corner just minutes away from the bustling main street of the shopping district. It’s not the kind of place people stumble across by accident but judging by the occupied tables, business is doing fine by reputation alone.

The owner comes out to greet Jimin by name. They exchange warm greetings, the woman asking him how his brother’s been doing and whether he’ll stop by anytime soon.

“Ah - I’m not sure... You know how he is... I’ll let him know you said hi.”

“Tell him I’ll give him an extra serving of ribs. That was his favorite, right?”

When her eyes trail over Jimin’s shoulder and spot you, she grins so wide you’d think she won the lottery or something. “Park Jimin! You’ve gone and found a girlfriend! And so pretty, too. Ah, really...time sure flies by. I remember when you first started coming here - and now!”

You smile back, greeting her with a polite handshake. The owner is quick to usher you into a small booth in the back. She hands you the menus while patting Jimin on his shoulder. “I’ll get you drinks. It’s on the house.”

“You don’t have to do that!” protests Jimin, shaking his head. “Really. It’s not—”

“Nonsense.” She waves a hand at him. “You’ll get two more if you keep that up, Park Jimin.”

Once she knows she’s earned Jimin’s compliance, she leaves with a satisfied smile. You can tell by their genuine interactions that she’s close to Jimin. Family, perhaps? Either way, this isn’t a place Jimin tracked down on yelp. He flips through the menu with ease, like he’s done it hundreds of times before. 

“Sorry about that,” he says once she’s out of earshot. “I used to come here all the time with my family when we all still lived here. They moved and live in a different town now so we haven’t had a meal together here in years, but. I still come here. The food is good, of course, but - I dunno. I have good memories here so I thought I’d share it with you. It sounds stupid now.”

He laughs quietly, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. 

“I love it.” You can’t help but smile, cheeks hurting from the force of it. Invisible liquor runs through your bloodstream, a ball of warmth unfurling in your belly. “Thank you.”

A pause ensues. It’s one of those moments in which you’re unsure if you’ve said too much or not enough. Being here with Jimin means a lot. You’re not the most verbose person but you hope that Jimin can feel your sincerity.

Maybe your stare comes off as too intense because Jimin breaks the eye contact and clears his throat.

He fiddles with his earring and says, “The food is really good!”

Pink dots his cheeks as he attempts to change the subject. “I don’t know how long the place has been around for but the food is exactly the same. Apparently it’s the sauce they use? Auntie still won’t share the recipes with me and I’ve known her since I was a kid.”

He chatters on, gaining confidence when he notices you’re not put off or bored by his numerous anecdotes. As time passes by, he’s visibly more relaxed. His laugh is more natural, less restrained, like he’s using all the muscles in his face and not just the ones near his mouth.

It’s a stark difference from the first date, you think. Back then he had come off as quite shy, preferring to let you lead the conversation, only offering up tidbits from time to time. Now the conversation flows easily. Nothing feels forced or awkward and - it’s nice. The normalcy of it. Like a hot cup of tea before bed or the scent of the fabric softener your mother uses. It’s something you find comfort in, that you can see yourself coming back to and not growing tired of.

Seokjin can say what he wants - that Jimin’s too uninteresting, that you’re too mismatched of a couple - whatever. 

Jimin likes you for you.

When you’re out on dates or when the two of you talk on the phone late into the evening, he rarely brings up your job. Instead, he asks you questions about your favorite TV shows, your dipping sauce preferences, the first album you purchased. These small details might seem inconsequential to others but to you, they’re a welcome breath of fresh air.

For all the talks of Jimin being too average and too normal, men like him are in reality surprisingly hard to come by.

Because what you haven’t failed to notice since you began your career as a porn star is that people love the idea of you. People who avidly watch you from their laptop screen in the comfort of their own home think that you’re some type of sex goddess - that you’re basically up for anything. In their minds, you’re a fun girl who loves sex, all kinds of sex, any kind of sex, and who doesn’t have any qualities or attributes other than making people cum until their limbs go numb.

Your feelings? Not really important. Feelings would make you human and being human would ruin their favorite fantasy.

That’s what takes you a while to learn - you don’t get paid to have sex, you get paid to sell dreams.

It doesn’t bother you at first. In a way, you think, it’s like acting. The porn star people jerk off to daily is a character you play, a mask you can take off at your leisure once the camera director yells ‘cut!’.

Very quickly, you learn people don’t share the same sentiment. To them, the line that distinguishes you from your job persona isn’t blurry - it simply doesn’t exist.

In the beginning, you’d stayed optimistic. Once people get to know you past the image they’ve built up in their heads, surely they’ll realize you’re not a sex-craved addict who only has dick on the brain, right? But with every new date you accept to go on, the reality of your situation only leaves room for disappointment and barely reigned in revulsion.

Even in non-romantic situations, people let you down. Old classmates, neighbors... It pisses you off that they assume you have no self-worth just because you’re a sex worker. Stevie from 308 down the hall once tried throwing crumpled bills at you, expecting you to crawl over to him for a fifty. The memory is enough to set your blood boiling. You can’t wait until you earn big enough bucks to move out of your shitty apartment into a nice high-rise penthouse, away and above all the scum of the Earth.

“You okay?” asks Jimin, noticing the crease that burrows your brow. “The food alright?”

You blink several times, belatedly realizing you had zoned out. Guilt and embarrassment well up within you.

“M’yeah,” you swallow down the spoonful of stew stuffed in your mouth. “Sorry.”

Jimin chews his bottom lip. Finally, he settles with, “Tell me if I’m boring you.”

“No, no! You’re not.” His evident doubt does nothing to alleviate the sudden nausea swarming your lower belly. “I’m serious, Jimin. I’m - Sorry if I gave off that impression. I just - I have a lot on my mind but you’re lovely. I’d tell you if you were - you know. Promise.”

“Would you? Sometimes I think you’re too nice.” It’s not delivered as an insult, but it doesn’t exactly sound like praise, either. 

You force out a snort. “Heh. Wish you’d tell Seokjin that.”

“He’s not too cross with me, is he?” Jimin’s expression looks awkward, like he’s forcing his facial muscles to stay relaxed and mien nonchalant.

“Wh- oh, you mean because of earlier? He isn’t. That’s not him being angry. It’s not even you. It’s me. We just have - a slight difference in opinions, I suppose. If you can even call it that.”

“He doesn’t want you to date me,” concludes Jimin.

The frustrations you’d repressed earlier in the day come back. Why does Seokjin’s opinion matter? You huff, putting your spoon down.

“He’s not my dad. And even if he was, I’m grown. I can make my own decisions.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it... It’s not like it’s any of his business in the first place.”

“Still...” Jimin says, unsure. “He’s your agent. I wouldn’t want the relation between you to sour because of me.”

“Honestly, I’m convinced it’s not even you he has a problem with. We talked about it today and I think he’s getting antsy because, um, you know, I haven’t accepted any big offers lately. Like, I’m staying too much in my comfort zone or something. He says that in the long run that can be detrimental to my career.”

It’s a bit strange, discussing your work with Jimin. You both work in the same industry, Jimin as a second camera assistant and you as an adult entertainer, but outside of filming sets, you rarely acknowledge what the other person does for a living.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He wants me to branch out and try new things.”

“What, you mean anal? Gangbangs?”

“Um, yeah. All that, probably...” You have to blink several times because of the shock of hearing Jimin say that so casually. “...Is that okay?”

“Huh?” Jimin in turn blinks at you, like your question doesn’t properly register. “Oh, yeah, sure. I’m fine with it. You said it’ll be good for your career?”

“Apparently.”

“Then, yeah.” He shrugs like he isn’t bothered by the news at all. “Of course that’s okay.”

A part of you wants to push the issue, ask him why he’d be fine with his girlfriend filming intense sex scenes with random men, but that inner voice is snuffed out before the poisonous thought has time to take root.

Isn’t this what you always wanted? A boyfriend who is accepting and understanding of your profession?

You wash down your worries with a gulp or two of soju, determined not to let your own insecurities ruin the rest of your night.

.

.

Less than 24 hours after you’ve agreed to work on a worthwhile project of Seokjin’s choosing, a slew of texts blow up your phone. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s your agent. A quick scroll through your phone reveals that your agent has left you with no less than 15 messages, 1 voicemail, and 3 e-mails.

It’s...a lot. You’ve grown to expect that kind of fanfare with him. Like any man who deals with legally binding contracts on a daily basis, Seokjin ensures that you keep your word. He can be extremely persuasive when he sets his mind to it. You’ve seen men and women alike succumb to the force of his magnetism. Back when your filmography had solely consisted of amateur sex tapes shot in bad lighting with low-grade filming equipment, Seokjin's charms alone had been sufficient to win over lukewarm casting directors and book you jobs.

SEOKJIN : hey!!!!!!!!

SEOKJIN : ???

SEOKJIN : wow. you’re leaving me on read.........the audacity. 

SEOKJIN : i raised you on my back and this is how you repay me?

SEOKJIN : do you not respect your elders in your household?

SEOKJIN : i swear if you’re blowing me off for jimmy instead of answering your calls .........

SEOKJIN : or blowing jimmy. either one.

SEOKJIN : ok it’s been 10 min. i’m chill but not that chill.

SEOKJIN : can you please stop sucking dick and read your emails. it’s important.

YOU : ever heard of multitasking? god gave us two hands for a reason

SEOKJIN : oh. nasty.

SEOKJIN : way to ruin my lunch.

SEOKJIN : well. suck down that nut sauce asap

SEOKJIN : cos what i sent you needs your undivided attention

YOU : i’m nasty?? me????

YOU : you don’t hear me saying nUT SAUCE you freak

SEOKJIN : nutté sauce

SEOKJIN : there. fixed it.

YOU : ...that’s not even a thing

SEOKJIN : well it should be!

SEOKJIN : adding accents makes it instantly classier, don’t you think? nutté sauce. has a nice ring to it.

SEOKJIN : honestly. sounds like some fancy four star french starter now.

YOU : ???? it absolutely doesn’t but ok

SEOKJIN : imagine. during a scene you just yell out

SEOKJIN : “i’d like a serving of your nutté sauce to go”

YOU : dicks would shrivel up on the spot

SEOKJIN : what? i think it’s brilliant!

SEOKJIN : my talent is wasted as an agent. should’ve been a scriptwriter instead.

YOU : yes i’m sure the oscars are weeping over the missed opportunity

He takes your sarcasm at face value, feeding you more ridiculous variants of faux french cum lingo—that which you very wisely choose not to reply to. Instead of humoring him, you open the .pdf file he’s sent your way, ignoring the near-constant buzzing of your phone as he’s no doubt pestering you for an immediate answer.

Had it not been necessary for business, you’d have blocked his number ages ago. In fact, after that nut sauce comment you’re seriously reconsidering, business obligations be damned. 

To his credit, the film project he suggests you work on doesn't sound half-bad despite its questionable title. Why anyone would choose to name it THE SPERMINATOR is beyond you.

As you read through the proposition, you’re surprised to find it’s tamer than the initial imaginary scenario you’d played out in your head. Expecting to read through a long list of unnameable kinks and dicks, the scene description is rather domestic all things considered.

Your shoulders sag in relief. You enjoy sex as much as the next person, but even you have limits you’re not willing or eager to cross. You’re a human being, first and foremost, and, contrary to popular belief, not competing in the sex olympics.

From what you’ve read so far, nothing in Seokjin’s offer seems too strenuous or perverse. The scene in question is centered around a young, newly married couple trying to conceive for the first time and the sex acts are described as “romantic insemination” - whatever the fuck that means. The only complication you can think of is that you’ve never played the part of a married couple before. None of your previous films specifically target couples or women. Is romance something you can sell accordingly?

You’re quick to shake the concern off once you remember that no one cares if your acting is shit or not. All you probably have to do is yell out ‘Daddy’ a few times mid-thrust and call it a day.

Honestly, you’re a bit disappointed in Seokjin for choosing such a safe, no-risk project - especially since he constantly advocates the risk-return trade off as the way to live by. But you’re not about to start complaining. You’d rather shoot this type of innocuous scenario than ridiculous, hentai-like scenes involving freakish get-ups and toys of monster proportions not realistically made to fit in a vagina.

The deal is perfect. Almost too perfect.

Subconsciously, you must realize something is wrong. Maybe Seokjin’s many lessons have finally rubbed off on you because there’s a persistent voice in your ear warning you that the film proposition is a trap, one that you’ve unfortunately walked straight into.

Your wariness increases when he refuses to send you the script upon request. Alarm bells ring off but by then it’s too late.

“The thing is... Director Ryu wants to try a new type of project," Seokjin says over the phone once you call him up for answers. "He thinks he’s going to pioneer a new genre of porn and revolutionize the industry - his words, not mine.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“How do I explain this without you getting the wrong idea..."

“Is this meant to reassure me?!” Dread drips from your tone. You should’ve suspected something was off from the very moment Seokjin suggested to shoot vanilla porn as your next big project. What a joke.

“Calm down, it's not as bad as - whatever you're thinking.” Too bad that his attempts to calm you down have the opposite effect. “He’s been wanting to try out a new improvisation format for his porn movies.”

“Come again?”

A beat of uncomfortable quiet passes. Reluctantly, Seokjin explains, “Which means - there isn’t an actual script to go off of. That’s why I couldn’t send it to you - because there is none. He wants it to be as realistic and natural as possible so he’s looking for actors who can go with their gut and create their own scenario instead of ones who need to be directed.”

Your resounding silence speaks for itself.

Sure, sometimes they provide scripts to act as guidelines, roughly giving the actor an idea of how the scene will unfold, but no one is expected to follow it word for word. Most porn films rely on improvisation rather than scripts because of how notoriously bad porn stars are at acting and memorizing more than a few lines at a time, and the introduction scene never lasts very long anyway for it to make a noticeable difference. Besides, after filming a handful of movies, you’ve noticed the dialogue is more or less all the same.

What bothers you is that this director wants you to carry out a movie that relies heavily on improvised dialogue. Convincingly.

“C’mon,” Seokjin tries when you refuse to deign him with an answer. “It’ll be fun. You like acting, right?”

“Seokjin...” You pinch the bridge of your nose and try to keep your composure in check. “How do I break this down for you? I think you’re forgetting the most crucial detail here - I can’t act! The closest I've ever gotten to acting is faking an orgasm and I’m pretty certain that doesn’t count."

“And you do that very well!" says Seokjin encouragingly. "You'll be fine. Don’t stress over it. Your scenes with Min Yoongi last time were perfectly acceptable!”

“That’s the thing.” Stress makes your voice raise a half-step. “He did, like, 90% of the acting! Back then, all I had to do was moan and act like a slut! Which hardly counts - I was being myself. Whatever this - thing - you’re attempting to rope me into - I’m not qualified for it.”

“Sweetheart, we’re not aiming for the fucking Oscars here.” When he laughs, it’s practiced enough to sound sincere. “At the end of the day, it’s still porn. Nobody’s expecting you to be the next Meryl. And besides,” he presses on, clearly refusing to change his mind. “This is exactly what you need right now. Something fresh, something new. If you pull this off, you’ll gain exposure.”

“If I pull it off. Big if."

“I know it sounds like a gamble. I get it, I do. But remember what I always say? High risk—”

“Yes, yes. High reward. I get it.” Your frown deepens. “There’s no way to know this will work, though.”

“A good co-star already guarantees you half of the success. And luckily for you, the guy they signed on seems like the real deal. He’s hot, you’re hot. People will pay money to see you two fuck regardless of how good or bad the acting is.”

“Well. That’s reassuring,” you say, voice as flat as a board. “Although I suppose watching porn on mute is always an option if it comes to that.”

“It was a joke!” What worries you is that it doesn’t sound like it is. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen some of your co-star’s tapes. He’s got a mouth on him, if you know what I mean. Just let him lead and it’ll go swimmingly.”

“It’s one thing to follow someone’s lead during sex but you want me to - to improvise for God knows how long! That’s just asking for a disaster to happen.”

“You said you were up for a challenge!” Seokjin throws your words back at you, his tone accusing.

“And you said this would be beneficial for my career! How is making a fool out of myself going to help me any? I don’t want to be remembered as the girl who can’t act to save her life.” You want to cry in frustration. If you had wanted to act you would’ve chosen that as your major in college. “I don’t - I can’t do this. I’m not - this isn’t what I signed up for! How do you expect me to convince viewers what they’re watching is real...”

“Just—” Exasperated, he takes a deep breath. Exhales. “Trust me. When have I ever been wrong about film projects.”

Is putting your career at risk really worth it? You’re not sure anymore.

On the bright side, it’ll finally get Seokjin off your back, you reason, trying to remain positive. That in itself is worth celebrating, right?

Fine. You’ll agree to it out of pettiness. Once Seokjin realizes what a terrible idea this entire ordeal is, you won’t hesitate to rub it back in his face. He’ll never hear the end of it.

"Who am I working with, anyway?”

"Ah, hm, well." Hesitation creeps up his voice for the first time, putting you instantly on edge. "...You won't know him. He's new to the scene - got started a month or two ago, I forget."

"Great. Not only am I being used as a lab rat for this director to experiment on but you're also pairing me with a fucking rookie. Jesus.”

"He’s not half bad! He’s not bad at all, actually. I wouldn't be insisting if I didn't trust him not to blow his load early."

"Aren’t I lucky,” you deadpan. “So I don't have to worry about him busting a nut before the director gives the signal?"

“All you’ll have to do is act like a married couple with baby fever,” he talks over you, ignoring your overflowing sarcasm. “And how hard can that be? You’ve been loved up with Jumin for a month now - that’s plenty enough practice if you ask me. I know you’ll be able to sell that romantic shit to the public without too much trouble.”

“It’s Jimin,” you correct from force of habit.

You’re promptly ignored — not that you expected anything less from him.

"Just give it a thought? And get back to me when you make up your mind. The sooner the better. The offer won't stay on the table forever." Even over the line, you can picture Seokjin raising his eyebrows at you, expectant. “If you’re serious about this job, you know what you have to do.”

You both know that you’ll accept the offer. Seokjin’s got you all figured out. As much as you don’t like being pushed around, the need to prove yourself is your main driving factor. The acquaintances who sneer at you, the family members who’ve shun you, the peers who expect you to burn out after the five month mark—you’d rather roll over and die than prove their misconceptions right.

It’s a matter of pride when you sniff and reply, “I’ll think about it.”

But the decision is already made before the call ends.

.

.

SCENE 02 - THE SPERMINATOR. TAKE 02. ROLL B. 

.

Eight days later you find yourself squeezed into a brazenly short dress that zips in the front, more fit for a night out in a club than a dinner at home. It’s so ridiculously tight, you feel like a prey being swallowed down by a snake. There’s no room to breathe. You can’t wait for the scene to start, if only so you can dispose of the piece of fabric and never wear it again.

Unfortunately, your outfit gets worse because thrown over the clubbing attire is a frilly apron with small hearts embroidered along the hem. The mismatch is jarring. You’re not sure what look the stylist is going for but the end result is very...peculiar.

You comfort yourself with the knowledge that it could always be worse.

A quick glance at the digital clock on your phone confirms that you’re running on time. Good. After your last gig, the last thing you want is to spend hours waiting for the personnel to set up the cameras and sound equipment correctly.

Thankfully, today’s team works like a well-oiled machine. All that’s left are the last-minute preparations before the shoot begins.

Your false eyelashes are still drying when Seokjin elbows you sharply in the ribs. You crack open an eye to glare at him. “Ouch - ah, seriously? What is it now?”

“That’s him, that’s him!” Seokjin whispers under his breath, his gaze glued to a point somewhere beyond your shoulder. “Wooow. Aren’t you a lucky bitch? I’d gargle his nutté sauce for breakfast, if you get what I mean. He looks way better in person, damn.”

“Firstly - please never say that out loud again.” You fake a gag. “How do I buy myself a new set of ears?”

Seokjin ignores your dramatics. He shoots you a look. “You let that last guy draw a starfish on your face with his crème de la nut but did you hear me go sick?”

“That’s not the same and you know it!” Your jaw drops in indignation. “And can you stop trying to make nut cream a thing for the love of—”

“What’s this about nut cream?”

You whip your head around, mortification already etched onto your features. Your mouth opens, defense at the ready, only for your throat to clamp up.

“Oh.” You blink up in surprise because - well, Seokjin’s earlier assessment isn’t embellished. The guy is fit as fuck.

You’d seen photos in passing, had even googled his name out of curiosity, but the two-dimensional version of him pales to his real life physique. There’s a sharpness to his features that the camera fails to pick up on, a vibrancy that gets lost in the medium. 

“Hey. I’m Hoseok.” His grip is firm, assertive, and your eyes naturally wander over his form. The loose muscle tee he’s thrown on puts his toned arms on display and makes it easier to admire the seemingly endless expanse of sun-kissed skin. He’s neither too thick nor too spindly, his muscles lean and firm instead of bulging. Strong but not intimidating. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” You swallow, mouth dry.

You expect him to leave it at that like most of your past co-stars usually do. Or worse - for him to abandon all pretenses and cross lines that aren’t meant to be crossed. As someone who has experienced it all - from standoffish to creepy and vile - nothing surprises you anymore.

But unlike your, admittedly low, expectations, his gaze is warm and friendly. He speaks smoothly, leaving no time for an awkward silence to instill itself.

“Yeah, I know who you are! I saw a video or two of yours before - you were featured on the agency’s main page last month, right? Fuckin’ genius, by the way. Best stuff I’ve seen in a long ass time.” An easy grin sits on his face, nothing about it fake or contrived. “I hope we get along today. I haven’t done much work myself - yet anyway - but I hope this can be a good experience for the both of us.”

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seokjin assures, patting your shoulder like a proud parent. “_____ here is the best talent I’ve signed on.”

“That I can believe,” Hoseok chimes, his smile never waning. “I’ve heard good stuff about you. I won’t lie - it reassured me a fuck ton when I heard I’d be working with you. The stuff we’re doing is, well, it’s a bit of a gamble at this point, but I’m sure it’ll go well because I’ll be working with you.”

For a brief, embarrassing moment, you’re robbed of words, unable to respond to his flattery. From experience, you know to be wary of guys like him. Whenever someone lays it on thick they always have an ulterior motive. But what could possibly be his?

“Seokjin’s saying that because I’m the only one who can stand his nagging,” you finally say, your shoulders stiff. Maybe it’s because you’ve just met, but it’s hard to figure him out and it doesn’t help that you’re naturally wary of strangers.

“Oh hush. You love me.” Sensing how guarded you’ve become, Seokjin mercifully offers you an out. “It was nice meeting you, Hoseok. Wish we could stay and chat but she has to get ready to film the pre-interview portion.”

“Oh yeah, that’s cool. Catch you later.”

You offer a quick smile he returns tenfold, its brightness momentarily dazzling you.

Slightly dazed from the intensity of it, you stagger behind Seokjin, sun spots dotting your vision. Your surroundings blur together as your mind tries to recover from the interaction.

“Sooooooooo?” Seokjin sing-songs once you’ve walked far enough to be out of earshot. His brows are raised knowingly, an infuriating type of smugness clinging to his features. “What did I tell you! He’s hot enough to single-highhandedly melt a glacier, huh?”

You scoff, not willing to admit anything. “He’s okay.”

“Oh c’mon. He’s baby daddy material for sure. Which works out well for you since he’s gonna pump one into you later.”

For once the grimace that crosses your face isn’t exaggerated. “Please. Stop. Talking. I’m this close to heaving out my lunch.”

You’re not even joking with that one. Attractive as Hoseok may be, any talk of baby-making is enough to dissipate any smidgens of lust.

The reminder of what the upcoming scene entails and the expectations people carry crash down on you like a pile of bricks. Although you’ve done your best to ignore the fact you’ll be acting today, the meeting with Hoseok yanks you harshly back to reality.

You’re going to act. As a married couple. Trying to conceive a baby.

Three things that have never, ever been on your bucket list are now about to be crossed out in the span of the same afternoon. To that you can only say - what the fuck is my life.

Like a mounting wave before the inevitable crash, panic crests within you. You feel it gradually build and build, flooding your lungs and every crevice of your body with overwhelming anxiety.

Seokjin sighs. “How are you going to make it through today? The whole point of the sex scene is to get you pregnant. Or fake pregnant. You know what I mean.”

“Um...” You try to laugh but it comes out shaky. Seokjin shoots you a concerned look. “I’ll be fine! Really! I can do it. It’s just acting like you said, right? It’s not like he’s actually gonna knock me up in real life. So. Totally fine. It’s fine. Perfect.”

Seokjin’s concern grows. His eyebrows pinch together and his expression turns serious. He asks with no trace of mockery, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay!” you reply. It’s too rushed of an answer to convince him. Your palms feel clammy and you wipe them off your damned apron. “Just. Nervous. Y’know.”

His steps slow to a halt and he places a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder. The weight, familiar and comforting, grounds you to reality. “Hey. What’s there to be nervous about? You got this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll trick yourself into believing it. “I’ve got this.”

“Look. Let me be honest for a second. I’ve been an agent for eight years now and I’ve seen a lot of talents come and go. No pun intended.” You smile back at him weakly. “You’ve got something...extra a lot of them lacked. I knew the moment I saw you on film you’d go far. The energy you bring onscreen is insane. I know today might seem new and strange - but so was your first ever professionally shot film, right? And you got through that fine. You’ll do great. I know it. And, not to toot my own horn, but I’m always right.”

That earns him a laugh. The nerves are still there but thanks to his pep talk it’s easier to breathe.

Despite being a big pain in the ass, Seokjin is exemplary at his job. Without him, you’re acutely aware you wouldn’t have gotten half as far as you have. Having him by your side is a reassurance in itself.

Someone calls your name, pulling you from your thoughts. When you turn around, you’re face to face with the round, bespectacled face of Director Ryu. You reckon he’s in his early forties but he acts younger than his age. It’s your first time working with him but so far he’s been nice enough, if a little full of himself. Not that you’re unaccustomed with working alongside conceited colleagues.

“Oh good, you’re back. You can get seated for the interview bit.” He points over to a chair placed in front of a pale yellow wall. From close up, you can see a paint job is in order, the old coat chipping off in several places. “Alright, this won’t last long - just need you to answer some questions on tape and we’ll be good to go.”

“Sure thing.” You nod and follow his directions, sitting still while the hair and make-up artist steps up to give your lips a final touch-up.

Strictly speaking, the before and after interviews aren’t a necessity. In your experience, directors mostly film the short question-and-answer sequence when you’re set to film hardcore sex scenes as a way to show viewers everything is consensual and that you thoroughly enjoyed the experience despite whatever might have transpired on screen.

You reckon the director wants to film you today to document the process behind his “groundbreaking film project”. Cue roll of eyes.

Somebody needs to tell him he isn’t inventing anything, you think while watching him fiddle with the camera until he’s completely satisfied with the angle. All he’s done so far is add unnecessary pressure on you. You hope Hoseok is faring better because the amount of performance anxiety you’re experiencing is an instant boner killer.

“You nervous?” the director asks once he’s done adjusting the camera lens.

While by some standards you’re still considered a newbie in the industry, you’ve done this enough times to fall into a routine. Wake-up, breakfast, get ready, arrive before call time, fill out all the paperwork and get ready to shoot your solo stills. It’s familiar enough that you’ve long stopped getting pre-performance jitters.

Today’s rush of anxiety is as surprising as it is unwelcome. They don’t want to hear that particular truth though, so you keep your reply sweet and bubbly.

“Nah,” you grin, wide and easy. “I’m super excited to film today!”

“Oh yeah? Is it perhaps because of your co-star?”

Your smile freezes for a second. Somewhere over the director’s shoulder you can see Seokjin nodding enthusiastically while giving you the double thumbs up. “Hoseok? He’s hot, sure.”

“Ooh. Already on a first name basis?”

“Hm?” you let out a noise of polite confusion, only belatedly realizing that his viewers know him better as his porn alias, J-Hope. But there’s no way in hell you’re going to yell that out loud while he’s fucking an orgasm out of you. Not only does it sound ridiculous but it’ll shatter whatever carefully crafted illusion you manage to build. “Um, yes. We’re getting to know each other. He’s very friendly.”

“I’m sure he is.” And there’s an implication there that doesn’t sit too well with you but thankfully Director Ryu chooses to move on and put that particular subject to rest.

“You ever shoot an insemination scene before?”

“Not yet.” You make sure to keep the smile on your face even if your cheeks are beginning to hurt. “I can’t wait to get to it. It’s a fantasy I’ve always had but never tried out for myself. I’m excited to film a first on camera!”

The director has yet to call you out for your bullshit so you slowly start to relax. Acting is a bit like lying, isn’t it? Maybe you can get through today after all.

You breeze through the rest of the questions, forcing out practiced laughs here and there all whilst keeping your voice syrupy sweet. It’s quick work, especially when you know what to expect. Before you know it, it’s already time to film the pièce de résistance. Everyone that’s allowed on set during filming filters into the kitchen, conversations between crew members dying down as they use their last recreational moments to check their phones.

The director’s filming style exempts you from shooting the customary pre-shoot sex stills which are essentially promotional pictures of you and and your partner in every sex position that you’ll be filming for real later on. You’re thankful for that, at least. Even with all of your on-camera experience, staying perfectly silent and still with someone’s dick inside you is no easy feat. It’s worse when you have to keep eye contact with your co-star and fake sexual gratification because the shot calls for it.

Hoseok waves at you from the other side of the room, the hair and makeup artist dusting some powder across the slope of his nose.

How can he look so relaxed?! You’re barely holding your lunch down. Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re able to now tat the butterflies are back in full force, making a mess of your stomach.

You feel queasy but try not to make it too obvious even as Seokjin comes around to check up on you. The last thing you want to do is make a scene, especially when your onscreen counterpart's demeanor is making you look amateurish in comparison.

Maybe Hoseok is a better actor than you’re able to give most porn stars credit for because try as you might, you fail to detect any nervous undercurrent in his tone. For someone who is supposedly starring in his first major project, he doesn’t seem all too bothered about how it might play out.

How does he do it?! In all honesty, if Seokjin hadn’t informed you of his rookie status, you would be none the wiser.

There’s an ease with which he carries himself, a fluidity in his movements that belies no anxiety or awkwardness. Even from this distance you can tell that there’s never a hint of hesitation in his movements or speech; he doesn’t seem self-conscious in the least. He talks and moves with the assurance of someone who has been in the industry for months, not weeks.

In that moment you envy him. You’re so nervous about the upcoming scene that it’s hard to feign an air of professional detachment.

His boisterous laugh is loud enough to carry across the room and interrupt your line of thought. When you look over at him again, you find him folded in half, hands clutching his sides, and wearing a grin so bright it eclipses the entirety of his face.

“He seems nice.”

You jump, startled by Jimin’s sudden appearance. You hadn’t even heard him draw near. With a sheepish expression, you turn to look up at him only to find him already staring off into the distance. There’s a strange look painting his face, and a small crease in his brow that usually isn’t present. When you follow his line of sight, you’re met with the image of Hoseok talking animatedly to the the small crowd that’s flocked around him.

“Yeah.” You aren’t sure what else to say. Although there’s no sarcasm attached to his words, you can’t help but find Jimin unnaturally tense.

Which makes sense, you concede guiltily. A mere stranger is minutes away from dicking down his girlfriend. You’re not sure how you’d feel if you were to stand in his shoes.

You breathe in deep, silently willing away the knot of distress in your belly. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. It’s just a job. A profession that Jimin has always been fully aware of, even before you’d begun dating.

Even as you remind yourself of the facts, it does little to dispel the lingering feelings of doubt and guilt.

“Hey.” Jimin frowns at you in concern. “You alright?”

“Yep!” you say then immediately sigh, knowing that lying to your boyfriend is pointless. “I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Nervous?” Jimin’s worry grows, the crease in his brow deepening. “What about?”

“Just—” You gesture around with your hands. “All of this.”

“Oh.” He looks genuinely surprised. “But you don’t usually get nervous... Is it the impregnation thing you’ll have to do? I know you’ve said you’re not a big fan of that. Or... Is it something else?”

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. It’s a bit of everything yet at the same time nothing you can clearly pinpoint and put a finger on. In all logic, you know that you’re feeling disproportionately stressed out but you can’t stop yourself from feeling how you feel. “It’s not that I don’t want to film. I just - I’m worried I won’t do well.”

Jimin takes your hand between his, running a thumb in soothing circles across the surface of your skin. He repeats the motion several times until your heartbeat is completely synced to his touch.

“You’ll do great. You always do.” The lines of his mouth bend into a smile. “I’ll be on the sidelines cheering you on.”

“My very own cheerleader.” You allow yourself to relax and and smile back fondly.

As much as you worry about Jimin being upset with you filming sex scenes with other actors, he’s never been anything less than the supporting boyfriend you’ve always dreamed of. Seokjin calls Jimin’s constant presence on set maddening, but you’re thankful that your boyfriend sticks by your side while others might flee or shame you.

Suddenly, you’re overcome with emotion. Maybe it’s the stress, or maybe today you’re more hormonal than usual, but your eyes threaten to well up as you grip his palm tightly in your own. “Jimin, I—”

“Okay, lovebirds!” Seokjin claps his hands once, effectively ruining your moment. “Hand-holding time is over. We’re moving onto the more R-rated stuff.”

“Seokjin!” you hiss, upset over his horrible timing.

“It’s fine.” Jimin shakes his head. “He’s right, shoot’s about to start anytime soon. I need to get ready, too.”

“Right.”

Reluctantly, you let go of Jimin’s hand.

“Don’t pout.” He laughs and presses a quick, chaste kiss to your mouth. “I’ll wait for you after filming and we can go grab dinner. Italian sound fine?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You bob your head eagerly. “I’m literally dying for carbs. Italian sounds more than perfect.”

“Good.” 

You can’t resist sneaking in one last peck before Jimin retreats behind the cameras and you’re pulled to stand in front of a granite kitchen tabletop. Director Ryu is waiting for you, Hoseok already by his side.

From close-up, your co-star looks even more striking. The make-up artist’s work highlights his features without going overboard. The lines of his face are sharp, like every single one has been meticulously drawn. What usually would give someone a hostile and unapproachable impression is balanced out by the liveliness that lights up his eyes and his wide smile that looks almost too big for his face.

“It’ll start in the kitchen and then we’ll work out way to the bedroom.” Director Ryu points down the hallway. “I was thinking of keeping it all in the bedroom but nothing screams domesticity more than kitchen scenes, right?”

“Uh-huh.” You give a polite nod. Next to you, Hoseok coughs into his fist.

“Depending on how this goes we might have to take several takes - just keep that in mind.”

That’s nothing out of the ordinary. Sex scenes are never filmed in one take. There’s always one thing or another - a smoke break, a flaccid dick, a lighting fixture that needs to be changed. A 45 minute porn movie is the result of the editing team that painstakingly goes through, cuts and assembles hours of footage.

“Remember,” Director Ryu instructs, one hand cocked on his hips. “You’re still stuck in that honeymoon phase. All the two of you want to do is fuck like horny bunnies but your husband’s been away all day. Both of you have been waiting for this reunion for hours and hours. I want to feel that level of tension, got it?”

Hoseok nods like a dutiful student, his expression comically serious. You’d laugh if it wasn’t so inappropriate.

“Yep. Ok. Got it.”

You just want the director to stop talking so that you can get this over with quickly. The monologue is just delaying the inevitable.

Director Ryu spends extra minutes setting up the scene, emphasizing how in love and passionate the two of you should behave, describing how long you’ve been wanting to try for a baby, going into explicit detail about what the sex scenes should convey to the viewers. He just goes on and on and on with no end it sight.

At this point even Hoseok is growing restless. His feet refuse to stay still and his eyes dart around the room as if his attention is drawn elsewhere. It’s Hoseok’s constant fidgeting that draws Director Ryu out of his monologue. He finally senses that there’s a unanimous decision to start filming and retires behind the camera to settle himself in his appointed chair.

Hoseok shares a long look with you. “Is he always like that?”

“God, I hope not.” You lower your voice to whisper, “Seokjin - my agent - he says apparently Director Ryu wanted to make a career off of documentaries once he graduated from film school but quickly switched genres once he saw how little filming the mating habits of koalas was earning him.”

“Ah,” Hoseok nods conspiratorially before his features shift into something more serious. “Hey. Before we start, is there anything you’re not comfortable with? I know this scene is supposed to lean towards vanilla but you never know... I’d rather make sure. Just in case.”

You blink, taken aback. Hard limits aren’t really discussed outside of hardcore scenes. Sure, everyone is given a safeword before shoots begin but even screaming out “STOP!” or “Can we take a break from filming?” is enough to put the filmed scene on hold.

“Ah... No. I’m okay. But thanks for asking.” A moment passes and you add, “Is there - are there any words or kinks that bother you?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “Not for this one. Just - if there’s anything you’d rather me not say or do, don’t hesitate.”

You nod in reply, not sure of what else to say. Unfortunately your past experiences with men have made you suspicious of any form of flattery or kindness.

Soon, though, you relax. What reason is there for Hoseok to deceive you? Maybe he still has that rookie mindset. You can relate to the eagerness and the desire to do well you’d had in your early days of filming.

“Alright. Good luck, Hoseok.”

His smile is so bright that it erases your previous doubts. Surely someone with ill-intentions wouldn’t be able to smile like that, right? You return a tentative smile of your own. Something akin to understanding seems to pass between you. Although you don’t know Hoseok and he doesn’t know you, you trust him enough for this scene.

The moment is broken when Director Ryu directs Hoseok to wait outside the camera’s line of vision and you’re left alone in front of the kitchen stove.

Any moment now, you think. A telltale silence falls over the staff members as they all anticipate the director’s signal for the scene to start.

The first few seconds are always tricky. You’re no actress. There’s no switch inside of you that flips on and off as soon as the director commands “ACTION!” and “CUT!”. The world around you doesn’t fade out, your ‘porn star persona’ doesn’t claw its way out from within you and lunge for the nearest available dick. Sometimes, if you’re not attracted to your onscreen partner, you find your mind drifting off, making an inventory of your fridge and wondering what you’ll be able to cook up for dinner with two eggs and leftover rice.

When Director Ryu shouts “ACTION!” and slams down the plate, you freeze up. Usually you have an idea of what to say or do, but the words and actions won’t come to you this time.

Someone behind the cameras lets out a light cough. Oh right, you blink down at the simmering pot of water in front of you. The cameras are recording you making an utter fool out of yourself.

The spike of humiliation forces you into action. You’re more professional than this, damn it. You give the water a tentative stir, movements wooden and stiff. It’s hard to concentrate. All you can do is watch as the water simmers to a boil, the sound of bubbling water like a roaring current in your ears.

A door creaks open, signalling your onscreen husband’s return home.

To your horror, you find that you’re unable to move, as if your limbs had forgotten their primary function.

Before the scene had started, you had envisioned yourself throwing yourself into the arms of your loving husband and welcoming him home with a shower of kisses and words of affection. You had internally rehearsed it, had even thought of what you could say to him between pecks, but the reality is far removed from what you had practiced.

“Darling?” Hoseok’s voice is soft but loud enough for you to hear him over the angry sounds of boiling water. The vowels he uses are rounded, different from the bright pep in his tone from earlier. 

You want to respond but your tongue feels like lead, too heavy in your mouth to articulate and form the proper reply. What are you supposed to call him, anyway? Honey? Hoseok? A nickname derived from his name? What do newlywed spouses call each other? Why couldn’t you give this more thought before the cameras began rolling?

Panic balloons inside you, threatening to burst. For a terrifying and mortifying second, you think that you’ve gone and ruined everything. The muscles in your shoulders bunch up and you half-expect the director to shout ‘CUT!’, give you a public scolding for missing your cue and berate you for your overall ineptitude.

Hoseok’s arms wrap around your middle before you have time to agonize any further. Just as you suspected, his arms are strong, the lean muscles flexing as he readjusts his hold around your waist. What you don’t expect, however, is the unadulterated warmth he radiates. His body burns hot; even through the layers of clothing separating the two of you, his warmth seeps through. But it’s strangely comfortable, not unlike basking in the afternoon sun during the last days of summer. You let yourself melt into his embrace.

“You’re not even going to say hi?”

With your back turned to him, you can’t be sure, but you imagine the pout playing at his lips. He tucks his chin in the crook of your shoulder. If he feels any awkwardness, he doesn’t let it show.

Miraculously, your mouth seems to be in working order again. It takes you a few seconds too long to find the appropriate answer, but it finally comes before the director can cut in to make any remarks.

“If I turn around right now, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you,” you explain. “And - I don’t want to ruin our dinner.”

Just to keep up the pretense, you add a handful of spaghetti into the pot of water.

Hoseok lets out a hum from behind you. He’s standing close enough for you to feel the vibrations low in his throat.

“I hate it,” he says after a stretch of silence.

You pout. “What? My cooking? What’s wrong with it?”

“No, silly. I hate -” he sighs, buries his face in your neck before looking back up so the camera can capture his expression. “I hate not being with you. I missed this.”

He hugs you from behind before kissing your neck. It starts off innocuous - his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the column of your throat. Quickly, however, his mouth lingers on your skin.

“Ah - don’t. I’m cooking!” you shriek when his teeth scrape over a sensitive spot under your jaw. Your protests are half-hearted and go by unacknowledged. The pot of pasta could overflow right now and no one would care, least of all you.

Hoseok noses your neck while he tightening his grip around your waist, the movement bringing his hips flush against your lower back. You give the pot in front of you a very unenthusiastic stir, attention focused instead on the way his lips tenderly skim the surface of your skin, testing and teasing. The sensation feels nice - and keeps your mind off of the several cameras directed your way.

“But I went all day missing my princess,” he sighs, open mouthed against your neck. “Spent all day thinking about you.”

“Y-you did?”

“Mhm.” He gives your exposed shoulder a peck. Then another. “Thought about your cute little laugh.”

His line catches you off guard. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Porn is often crude and to the point. You’re used to men complimenting your body parts or praising your skills in bed. You’d never minded, either. But Hoseok’s choice of words make you eager in a different way.

“What else?”

“Well, your cooking, for sure. Without you I’d be eating out of ramyeon packets for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

You let out a snort.

“That’s true. Your cooking is so horrible it’s offensive.”

“Hey now. Don’t be mean.” He pokes your cheek before pinching your chin to turn your head towards him. “I can cook a decent omelet.”

Hoseok’s a good few inches taller than you so you have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes. The slight discomfort barely registers. You’re too transfixed by the way he stares at you. It’s hard to place the expression because you’ve never seen it on a fellow actor before. Normally, the men you work with stare you down with hungry and lustful intent, but there’s none of that in Hoseok’s gaze.

The expression on his face cannot be described as innocent, either. He licks his lips, drawing your attention to the pretty lines of his mouth delicately curved into a smile.

“I missed the way you feel in my arms.” His voice sounds deeper, this time. “I missed holding you close to me. Kissing you. Reminding you how much I love you. I missed the look in your eyes when - “

“When?”

He smirks. “You sure you want to hear it? What if you can’t keep your hands off of me after? I don’t want to be held responsible for soggy pasta.”

“Hoseok,” you whine, one of your hands reaching down to slap at the hold around your stomach. 

He tightens his hold around you and your breath hitches, suddenly all too aware of how firm his body feels behind you. The smirk on his face widens as he leans forward to confess his next words.

“I was thinking about how I miss the look on your face whenever I make your pussy sloppy with my cum.”

“Hoseok!”

One moment he’s crooning sweet words of affection, the next he’s spitting out filth. The quick back-and-forth gives you whiplash but you can’t say you dislike it. Unlike the tired and overused clichéd porn scenarios you’ve filmed in the past, Hoseok’s unpredictable behavior has the advantage of keeping you on your toes.

“You missed it too, hm?” He kisses your neck, lips soft and warm. “Kept thinking about how pretty you sound. So, so pretty. Especially when I give you what you want.”

“How would you know what I want?” You turn your head forwards so you can pretend to check up on the cooking pasta. “You were away all day.”

Hoseok’s eyes flash dangerously.

“How would I know?” he parrots back, his tone sweet and mocking. Something about it sends tingles down your spine and has you standing up straighter. “I always know what my pretty wife wants. I know because your body can’t lie to me.”

His hands wander, one of them inching up the material of your frilly apron to reach between your breasts. The movement is slow enough for a camera to zoom in and follow its trail. Hoseok rests his hand on your left breast and gives it a squeeze.

“See?” He repeats the action. “Your heart’s racing like crazy.”

You swallow audibly, finding it hard to come up with a witty riposte.

He continues with a chuckle, “You can’t deny it, can you? Your body’s too honest for your own good. It’s okay. You don’t have to say you missed me. I know.”

His self-assured way of talking makes it easier for you to react. This - the cockiness, the playfulness - you’re familiar with.

You roll your eyes and continue to give the pot in front of you a few additional stirs only for your breath to hitch when he starts to grind his hips against your lower back in time with your stirs.

Fuck is your only coherent thought. He rolls his hips so well it’s impossible not to imagine them doing something else. Your bottom lip grows numb from how hard you bite it.

“Of course I missed you.” You keep your tone as light as possible, determined not to show that his words and actions affect you.

Hoseok’s eyes narrow. He removes his hands from around you but keeps his front pressed against your back. He smiles again, dimples poking through.

“You don’t sound convinced... That’s fine.” It sounds like the beginning of a challenge and you soon learn why.

His nimble fingers play with the knot of your apron and you tense, expecting him to make quick work of your clothes and dive straight into dessert, so to speak. Once again, he surprises you by leaving the apron alone, hands falling to his sides.

His knees hit the floor, the noise startling you. Before you have the chance to truly react, he’s quick to pull your hips backwards until your back is arched. The sudden change in position forces you to adjust your stance so as to keep your balance.

“Hoseok?” you start to question but he cuts you off with a tut and light smack to your ass.

“You just keep your eye on dinner like you were doing before.” His fingers play with the hem of your short dress, stretching the fabric until it bunches up around your hips and leaves your lacy thong on display. “You can do that, right?”

Flustered by the position he’s maneuvered you into, with your hips thrust back obscenely, legs splayed wide and pussy on show, you grip the wooden spoon in your hand with more force than necessary. “It’s just pasta. I can manage.”

Maybe you sound less indifferent than intended because Hoseok seems more amused than offended by your feinted nonchalance. He barks out a laugh, his hands spreading the meat of your cheeks aside to get a better view of your lace-covered bits.

Privately, you wish you could witness his reaction. If there’s anything that turns you on, it’s knowing how much someone else wants you. If feels good to know that you’re wanted and desired. Even if fucking is part of your job description, the act needs to be mutually enjoyable for you to be completely satisfied.

“Sure.” The lilt in his voice is so sweet that it borders on condescending. “While you do that, I think I’ll have my appetizer.”

It’s corny, overused and a little degrading - exactly the type of one-liner you’d ordinarily find in porn - but he gives you no time to call him out for it. As soon as he’s done talking, he wags his tongue out and drags it across the red lace, and the repeated up and down motions quickly dampen your panties.

You notice with great frustration that he takes care to avoid your clit, focusing instead on licking broad stripes over slit and, to your surprise, around your rim.  He doesn’t stop until your underwear drips with the accumulation of your essence and his saliva. The soaked lace rubs against you, the rough texture adding pressure to your most sensitive zones, until you can’t tell if the extra sensation is a blessing or a curse. Your hips jerk forward every so often, unsure if you’d rather lean into or escape his torturous games. Because as amazing as Hoseok’s tongue feels, you know your body well enough to be able to tell that this particular tempo won’t bring you to your peak.

An appetizer, he had called it. That’s exactly what the teasing ministrations feel like - a small sampling before the main course. It’s satisfying and maddening in its own way. Good, but not enough to satisfy your ravenous appetite.

He unearths himself from your dripping core, chin shiny with your juices.

“Keep focus,” he instructs as he slots two fingers inside of you. You’re wet enough that they slide in without too much difficulty, the stretch making your stomach clench. “I thought you said you knew how to cook pasta.”

Against your will, you force yourself to focus on the bubbling water in front of you. As much as you want to push your hips back and ride his fingers until you’re pushed over the edge, you can’t take the humiliation of messing up pasta - even if it is for the sake of a porn scenario.

It’s fucking pasta! You have to be seriously inept to mess up such a simple dish...

But what should have been an effortless task becomes more challenging than expected. Hoseok refuses to go easy on you. If anything, your stubborn silence is all the motivation he needs to thrust his fingers inside of you harder, curving them at an angle that makes your knees wobble. You struggle to keep any incriminating noises at bay but despite your best efforts, several muffled moans slip out one after the other.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the logical side of you points out how dangerous all of this is. What if, during your impending orgasm, your body seizes up and knocks the boiling water everywhere during the process? You quickly switch off the gas stove at the thought. Better be safe than sorry.

Just then, Hoseok adds his tongue to the mix, his fingers relentless in their pursuit of your pleasure. You bite back a curse as the wooden spoon slips from your hold and clatters to the floor.

“Ah fu - Oh God,” you stutter, hands holding on to the edge of the counter for dear life.

You’ve been eaten out God knows how many times in your life, but not many have instinctively known what really gets you going. Hoseok laps at your core, tongue collecting the moisture that seeps through the fabric of your ruined panties, while his fingers scissor you open for his cock.

Your stomach clenches as you imagine how well he’d fill you up. Who the hell would ever want pasta for dinner when Hoseok could feed you his cock instead? Definitely not you, that’s for sure.

It’s easy to picture it. All he’d need to do is stand up, unzip his pants and spear you open with a practiced roll of his hips. Maybe he’d make you toss a salad while he fucks you from behind, slapping your ass whenever you forget to keep stirring the ingredients together. Or perhaps he’d let you ride his dick on the kitchen floor, too impatient to make it to a more comfortable surface.

Your imagination knows no bounds. Once you start, you can’t stop thinking of more lascivious scenarios, each one more daring and debauched than the last. The heat between your legs becomes unbearable and still, you ache for more.

Hoseok pulls away from the apex of your thighs and snorts, the sound pulling you out of your depraved thoughts. The pace of his thrusting slows down without stopping completely, his fingers still pressed deep within you. Your arms tremble as they try to keep you upright, knuckles white from the strength of your grip around the counter’s edge. You exhale shakily.

A whine works its way into your voice. “Why - why’d you stop?”

Ignoring your protests, he pops his fingers out of you and indulges in one last lick of your swollen pussy, before gathering to his feet. He rolls down your dress back over your bum and peers over your shoulder, acting as nothing had ever happened.

“Thought you said you’d take care of dinner, hm?” Hoseok has the gall to hum in disappointment.

Your mouth opens in outrage. “You!”

Hoseok pouts. “I thought we said you wouldn’t blame me for any soggy pasta.”

“You’re impossible,” you say without any real heat to your words.

“But you love me that way.”

He smiles as he leans in to kiss you, lips sticky and warm. You follow the pace he sets as best you can, unaccustomed to the way he takes his time - like you’re a delicacy that demands to be savored and not gulped down. On-screen kisses are usually rushed, messy, with too much tongue. They’re a scripted affair, more for show than out of real affection. When men tuck back your hair behind your ear or palm your cheek, it’s only to better angle your face for the camera.

There is something intimate about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you. Inwardly, you can't help but admire his acting skills. There’s something tender about the way he handles you that’s distinctly different from any of your previous onscreen partners. Sure, you’ve shot vanilla sex scenes before, but never of this variety. None of the male actors’ performances have made you wish, even fleetingly, foolishly, that the scene was real.

Hoseok pulls up for air before your mind can wander off completely, his panting mouth a hairsbreadth away. Lips touching but not quite.

Blearily, you blink your eyes open. You’re close enough that your noses brush against one another, your breaths mingling together. Hoseok’s eyes remain closed throughout, like he doesn’t want the moment to end. He looks so content that you can’t bring yourself to do anything else but melt further into his embrace, gaze drinking in the minute details of his face - like the tiny moles dotting his cheekbone and upper lip and the pretty curve of his eyes.

“And cut!”

You both jump away from each other, startled. For a second there, the storyline you’d been instructed to follow had slipped from your mind. You’re unsure if the lapse in judgement is good or bad but you don’t let the question linger in your thoughts. You’ll have plenty of time to dissect your performance at a later time.

“Good, good. That wasn’t what I was expecting but I don’t think anyone has any objections?” Director Ryu claps his hands. “Fifteen minute break sound good everyone? Then we’ll relocate to the bedroom to shoot the next part.”

There’s a general hum of agreement from the crew members. Chairs and various other equipment scrape the floor as the personnel prepare to migrate to the other room for filming. Jimin’s gaze meets yours briefly but all he can do is smile weakly in your direction before he’s ordered to help push some of the equipment down the hall.

Someone comes up to you with a bottle of water while another steps closer to blot the beads of sweat near your hairline and reapply a layer of lipstick. The make-up artist knits her brows in concentration until she’s satisfied with the touch-ups. She then moves on to Hoseok, make-up palette and brush at the ready, and grumbles loudly about the sticky residue covering his face. You hear Hoseok bellow a laugh, the sound so infectious that even the make-up artist joins in. 

You sip your water through a straw, careful not to smudge your freshly applied lipstick, and check your phone for any missed messages.

“Was all of that okay?”

“Hm?” You look up and are surprised to see Hoseok stare at you expectantly. “I, uh, know some girls aren’t into ass play. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before jumping the gun but I figured - since you said there wasn’t anything major you were adverse to filming...”

His voice trails off.

“I liked it.” The admission is an easy one. “It did take me by surprise, but - I don’t have any complaints.”

“Ah, really?” Hoseok’s mouth corners upturn in relief. “That’s good to know. I was thinking - for the next scene - what if - I mean, are you okay with calling me Daddy?”

You tilt your head as you mull over the proposition.

“Daddy?”

“It’s not - you don’t have to. But listening to Director Ryu go on earlier made me think of something we could do. I think it fits well with the general idea. What do you think?”

“I’m fine with it.” Using the title doesn’t make you squeamish so you shrug in compliance. It’s not the first you’ve had to incorporate a daddy kink into the scene and it likely won’t be the last. You don’t see why you wouldn’t or shouldn’t do it with Hoseok. “I’ll follow your lead like I’ve been doing.”

It’s only as you’re following him towards the bedroom that you recall that you’ve yet to get to the crux of the scene - the damned impregnation kink. Even though you’re considerably less nervous than you’d been an hour or two ago, the thought of begging someone you barely know for something so intimate makes your stomach flip-flop. You don’t even have unprotected sex with Jimin and he’s your boyfriend.

Speaking of Jimin, you try to sneak in a peck or two before filming but Director Ryu intercepts you before you can make a beeline to where Jimin’s stationed behind a camera.

“How are you feeling?” The overhead light reflects off his round glasses and makes it impossible to hold eye contact unless you want to become semi-permanently blind.

“Good---”

“Wonderful. Well, we’ve positioned cameras here, here, and over there. There’ll be another camera man who’ll film with a handheld camera for closeups. Just keep that in mind. I know we’re giving you free-range to do what you feel is best and most natural but I’d hate to ask you to re-shoot because the camera couldn’t capture the both of you properly.”

You nod and he continues, “Also - please remember that you’re acting as a horny young married couple. I remember at that age I was up for anything, you get what I’m saying? People think just because you put a ring on your finger the sex automatically becomes stale. Fuck that. Show people married couples are freaks in the sheet.”

“Uh... Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He claps a hand over your shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

Freaks in the sheet? What did he expect you to do? Try out all the sex positions in the Kama Sutra?

“What did he want now?” Hoseok leans over to whisper once you’re seated comfortably on the bed. You’re hoping the mics don’t pick up the conversation but would rather not take the risk of being overheard bad-mouthing the director.

Shrugging, you say, “Just that this scene should be spicier.”

Hoseok raises his brow, lips quirking into a smirk. “That so?”

The same cockiness you’d caught a glimpse of during your escapade in the kitchen is back and the memory you associate it with makes the back of your neck prickle with heat. You clear your throat and avert your eyes.

Thankfully Director Ryu interrupts before Hoseok has the chance to fluster you further. You follow each of the director’s voiced directives until you’re comfortably seated on Hoseok’s lap, dress hitched around your waist because of how far your knees are spread on either side of Hoseok’s thighs. There’s a quick, last minute adjustment as Director Ryu ensures that the camera in the left corner picks up on everything it’s supposed to.

Satisfied, he lets you take the reins from there, then gives the cameras the signal to begin rolling.

You don’t waste a moment, taking his earlier commentary to heart. It’s your turn to pepper kisses all over Hoseok’s golden skin, leaving faint traces of rouge behind like an artist signing their own painting. You stop a few times to admire your work. Lip prints and lavender bite marks color his skin and the sight awakens a possessive streak you didn’t know you had.

Your enthusiasm to mark him up gets a little out of hand.

"Mhm." Hoseok grunts when you lick over a sensitive spot under his jaw. "Slow down, princess. There's no rush. We have all night."

He cups his chin between his hands so you have no choice but to relent and direct your gaze up at him. You’re pleased to see that he’s not completely indifferent to your touch; despite his instructions to take it slow, the smoldering look in his eyes tell a different story.

He runs the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, the pink flesh no doubt swollen. You take the digit in your mouth, unprompted, and run your tongue against its underside, wishing that his cock could fill your mouth instead.

Hoseok makes a noise low in his throat, not quite a growl but close.

"And I intend to take my time with you." The look he levels you with promises a night full of mind-numbing pleasure. Ribbons of heat curl around the base of your spine. "Want to make you feel good."

"You do," you agree, words muffled around the thumb you refuse to let go of.

You take a hold of his wrist and free your mouth, only to quickly replace it with his forefinger and middle finger. The stretch of two digits makes you moan lewdly.

Hoseok’s eyes darken. He lets you play for a few more seconds before he takes back control, his fingers pushing deeper into your mouth until they hit the back of your throat. You swallow down a gag, but his fingers don’t let you rest for long. He drags them over the flat of your tongue, watching as spit dribbles down past the sides of your mouth, and repeats the motion, pumping into your mouth steadily like he would a cock.

As nice as it feels to be filled with his fingers, whether in your cunt or mouth, you’re ready for more. Subconsciously, your hips grind down in his lap, shifting this way and that until you’re perfectly seated over his hardened length.

Drool is pushed out of your mouth as Hoseok squeezes a third fingers in with the other two. You suck harder, hoping that all your efforts will spur Hoseok into finally fucking you. The knowledge that he has to, at one point or another, keeps you from whining and begging pathetically for his cock. You can exercise patience if you put your mind to it; you’re sure of it. 

Your on-screen husband decides to test that resolve.

His other hand starts to wander south, his fingers toying with the short hem of your dress that’s been rucked up even higher with all your rocking and grinding. The movement of your hips slow, your brain unable to keep up with the stimuli coming in all directions.

A crack resounds in the room, the sharp sound startling you more than the sting that accompanies it. Hoseok’s palm rubs over the heated area, only inflaming it further.

“And who told you you could stop?”

The second slap is notably harsher than the first, and your hips automatically lurch forward hoping perhaps to lessen the impact of the sting.

You know he doesn’t expect a verbal answer; his second hand keeps your mouth plugged up, making any attempt at talking unintelligible. It doesn’t stop you from trying, only because you know the muffled protest are greatly appreciated amongst viewers. And if the way Hoseok’s digs his fingers into your smarting ass cheek is any indicator, you’re confident that he also enjoys your squirming and messy display.

“Keep moving, princess. I need both your holes nice and wet.”

The way his voice dips an octave makes your stomach twist in arousal. You long to tell him that you’re sufficiently wet enough for him to slide his cock inside right away but all you manage are pitiful garbled words.

He raises an eyebrow at your delayed response and your hips move before he can smack the globes of your ass for a third time. You have an inkling he’ll only hit harder with the intention of leaving marks of his own all over your skin.

It’s a careful balancing act, but you figure it out as you go. Bounce too fast and the fingers in your mouth will make you gag. Move too slowly for his liking and he won’t hesitate to add to the collection of handprints on your ass.

You lose track of how long he makes you play this game. Your mind focuses on sucking while keeping your jaw slack enough to accomadate the width of three digits. Drool pools down your chin, and you’re certain whatever the make-up artist had done to your lips is now ruined. Worse off are your panties. At the stage they’re at now, you’ll have no choice but to throw them out. Hoseok’s pants might need be as unsalveagable as your thong, you think inwardly, judging by the large, dark wet spot you’re currently sitting on.

“Mmh, good girl.” 

He gently slides his fingers out, strings of saliva attached. He hums in satisfaction at the lewd sight and rubs his fingers across your swollen lips and shiny chin, spreading the fluids and what’s left of your lipstick over your mouth. You swallow, mouth sore from being used roughly for so long.

“This hole is sufficiently wet, I think,” he appraises, eyelashes fluttering before he casts a long look down your body until it reaches where you’re seated on his clothed erection. “Let’s check this one too.”

The way he smirks at you but makes no move to check himself lets you know that he expects you to do the work.

You let your hands trail down your body slowly, cupping your breasts as you do, enjoying his hooded gaze and the way his cock twitches beneath you a bit too much. When you reach the hem of your dress, you lift your hips up to pull the fabric up to your navel giving an unobstructed view of your lace-covered pussy.

Hoseok stare intensifies but you don’t feel any embarrassment from the scrutiny. “Well you certainly look ripe.”

His fingers toy with the delicate string of lace around your hips. He lets the material snap against your skin a few times before he grows bored or impatient with his own game and gives the lace a harsh yank. It tears easily and the leftover scraps fall into his lap.

“... But just to be sure -” His hands grip your waist and manhandle you onto your hands and knees. Your head spins from how suddenly he’s moved you around to his liking that your arms give out and you fall face first into the clean smelling bed sheets. “Gotta give my favorite hole of yours a better look.”

His hands hoist your hips at a higher angle so that your soaked center is visible for the cameras to pan onto. Hoseok slides in two fingers easily, then a third. Loud, obscene noises echo in the otherwise quiet room, noises that are quickly joined by your unabashed moans of pleasure.

Your core is on fire. Hoseok’s fingers are just as good as you remember them to be. No, better. The three fingers pump into you in measured strokes, the drag slow enough to keep you dangling over the edge without pushing you over.

Hoseok spanks your ass, hissing between his teeth as you clench around his fingers, no doubt imagining your inner walls hugging his cock instead. 

“Christ. You’re always such a soft, wet little thing down here,” he croons in dulcet tones. “I could play with you all day.”

You thrust your hips back, shameless.

“Please! Please Daddy, I’ll be so good, I just - please - I nuh, need it. Need your cock fucking me full. I’ll take it so good, you know I will. Want you to - please! Daddy, I need your cum.”

“Shit.”

He fumbles in his haste to flip you onto your back. He crawls over your body, and you watch fascinated as he dives down to kiss you like a man starved. He looks almost feral, pupils so dilated the brown of his eyes is almost gone.

Heat blooms in your stomach as he kisses you deeply. The press of his lips against yours renders you a little less coherent as time ticks on, every brush of his tongue making you a little more dizzy with want.

Everything about him burns. It feels like being kissed by the sun itself. Every caress, every lick and nip leaves you feverish all over, like your drunk off his touch.

"Let me," he says, pinching the zipper of your dress between his thumb and index finger.

You wrap your hand around his and guide his movements. His gaze never leaves yours and it makes shivers run down your back. Even though you're the one controlling his movements for the time being, the look in his eyes makes it abundantly clear that the control you wield is only temporary.

When your dress finally falls open, you try not to preen too much under the reverent look that falls over Hoseok’s face. Your back arches a little off the bed, pert breasts thrust towards him - an appealing offer he doesn’t dare refuse.

Hoseok circles a thumb around your nipple, rubbing and flicking until it hardens into a stiff peak.

You wonder, distantly, how this looks like from the outside looking in. The man in front of you is a stranger in all senses of the word. Yet the way he touches you - like there are years of built-up affection behind every gesture - makes you second guess everything you know.

"Fuckin' love your tits.” He sighs, awe reflected in the dark of his eyes. "Love playing with them. Love how wet it gets you, how hungry your little pussy gets."

"Please,” you mewl, his words igniting a new wave of heat. It rolls over your body, leaving no extremity untouched. You burn from the inside out with raw desire.

You squeeze your own breasts in a bid to get him to touch you more. Hoseok merely chuckles, finding your desperation entertaining. One of his hands reach down between you to play with the wetness that clings to your core like a second skin and it takes everything inside of you not to rub yourself against him like a bitch in heat.

"What is it, princess?" His lips quirk into a smirk like he already knows the answer. "You're looking quite needy. How did you manage to hold it in all this time?"

“Stop teasing,” you growl, the lack of friction making you irritable. "I need your cock. And why - why do you have so many fucking clothes on?”

He chuckles, chest vibrating in amusement.

“Take them off,” you insist. Then, you grudgingly tack on a “Please” for good measure.

As hot as Hoseok looks like in his “work clothes”, he looks infinitely better naked, you decide as he chucks off his button-down shirt and gets started on his leather belt. With each new piece of clothing that gets discarded, the anticipation building inside of you skyrockets.

You take a moment to soak in his lithe figure, not bothering to hide how affected you are by the view. He’s nicely sculpted; you can tell right away that he takes care of himself. Swimming or dancing maybe? You hesitate between the two. His muscles are lean, nothing like the bulging biceps and thick forearms typical of the stereotypical gym rat.

Hoseok’s dick is, unsurprisingly, as pretty as the rest of him. It’s long and curved, a prominent vein running along its underside. The thatch of pubic hair that rests above his dick is neatly trimmed, the dark hair contrasting with the tan skin of his abdomen and the rosy hue of his erect length. Your eyes swoop down his thighs, licking your lips unwittingly at the alluring sight presented to you.

“Daddy,” you say, the whine in your voice unmistakable. “Want your cock.”

For a brief moment you’re tricked into believing he’s given in to your demand, but find yourself disappointed when he contents himself with rubbing his hardened member between your thighs, the glide slippery thanks to the copious amount of your essence that’s pooled there.

“Like this?” Hoseok asks, tone too sweet to be anything but mocking. The head of his cock bumps into your swollen bundle of nerves one, two, three times. You keen, your hips canting upwards in a bid to get more friction. “Want to rut against me until you get nice and creamy?”

He uses his right hand to spread your slick lower lips so that he can nestle his cock snuggly between them. He rolls his hips, the undulations fluid and dirty, and smirks at how you moan brokenly beneath him.

Your stomach clenches. “Need it in me."

"You'll get it," he promises after kissing you sloppily, lips sucking on your tongue. His breath is ragged but his voice steady, firm. "I'll give you everything you need. Make you cum so many times you know who owns this sweet pussy."

He speaks so surely, carries himself with so much confidence, that in the moment you can't help but believe him. The line between staged and reality blurs and you find yourself nodding eagerly, begging him as best you can to give you what you want.

The first tentative push of his dick wipes you clean of coherency. He slowly eases himself into you, reaching forward to lace his fingers with yours. It’s - more intimate than you expected. He squeezes your hand tightly in his when he finally manages to bury his entire length inside of you.

“Perfect.” He kisses the side of your temple before drawing back, his hard cock dragging deliciously against you. With a fluid hip thrust, he slides back in and you feel the stretch moreso this time around. The curvature of his cock has him pressing up against your walls in a way that robs you of breath.

"Daddy! Hh - ah, oh God. You're too b-big."

"Mhm, that's right. Daddy's fat cock is splitting you open. I'll plug you up with it later so none of my cum will leak out."

Every time he pulls back, your pussy clamps down tightly around him, unwilling to be empty even for a second.

Hoseok’s nostrils flare in arousal. He grabs your left tit and squeezes, using it as a hold to better fuck into you. With his body hovering above yours, his hand staking claim of your breast, and his cock drilling into you, you have nowhere to go. Pinned to the bed and unable to do anything but take everything he delivers, you wrap your legs around his waist and moan.

"Daddy's gonna fuck some babies into you,” he rasps, his eyes dark pools of lust. "Gonna breed your sweet pussy over and over. You'll be so full of my cum that you'll be pregnant with my babies for sure."

“Oh fuck. Yes, yes - oh my nhhg.” You sob as Hoseok drives his cock into you with more force. While the piston of his hips isn’t rushed, he pulls out to the tip only to slam back in to the hilt every time. The stretch burns in a good way and the sound of your moans are rivaled only by the wet, obscene sounds from your coupling.

"Fuck. Your cunt just - shit." He cracks down a hand against your ass and you shriek, not expecting it. "You're so tight, holy shit."

"Want it. Want you to fuck me good."

"I will," he says lowly, the promise reverberating deep in his chest. "I'll fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Fill you up so much, you'll be bloated with it."

And it should freak you out, the imagery he paints with his words, but the thought of laying there and him fucking you so well that you won't be able to feel your legs has you gushing out more wetness.

"Mmmh.” Maybe he can feel how soaked you are because he comments, “This is my favorite hole of yours, princess. Always so fuckin' drenched. I bet we’ll have to throw out the sheets again." He chuckles. "You must be hungry for it, right? I made you wait so long. No wonder your pussy is clenching like that. It needs a big, fat cock to milk dry."

“I missed it,” you cry, body skidding a little higher up the duvet each time he fucks into you. Your eyelashes flutter, lids heavy. It’s hard to concentrate, let alone form words, when your brain feels like complete mush. “I - I need your cum. Daddy, please.”

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I've got you. Daddy will feed your cute pussy his cock."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"Love you," he murmurs. It’s a quiet confession, lost somewhere in between the mattress creaks, the loud slaps of Hoseok’s hips slamming against yours, and the string of whimpers and groans pulled from your throat. It’s quiet but you hear it.

One of your hands reach up to pull him down by the neck so that your lips meet. He kisses you open-mouthed. It’s a filthy kiss, one that makes you moan into his mouth. You’re certain that if you had been standing your knees would have wobbled.

When you let up for air, Hoseok’s staring you down, his red-bitten lips plump and shiny.

"Love this pussy. So sweet and wet for me. Always for fucking swollen, like it's waiting to get a pounding. Love that. Love how eager you are to be bred by my thick cock."

The impregnation kink is - a bit much. You've never really imagined having kids, at least not anytime soon. You can’t even keep your plants alive for fuck’s sake.

But the way he suggests it is nothing like what you had imagined. His suggestions are - vulgar and primal. Like the urge to fuck you full of his cum is biological and he can’t smother it.

For a moment, you let yourself entertain the thought of being his breeding bitch - of laying on your back and letting him fuck load after load of cum inside you until your pussy physically can't accommodate any more. Of not having any other worries or thoughts but take his cock every moment of the day.

"You just got tighter.” He curses under his breath, voice thick with arousal.  "Such a warm little hole. Taking everything I give it. You'd take anything if it meant getting bred by me, right?"

“Yes, yes,” you chant, pleasure coiling inside of you. “Give me more! I need it."

"Shit. You can't handle more, princess," he tries to reason. "Daddy needs to be gentle with you. Your hole is so small, it'll hurt if I go harder."

"Daddy promised to fuck me.” You whine, uncaring if you sound too bratty and demanding. "B- Breed my hole. It's yours. Puh-please use me."

"God." Hoseok groans, his features twisting in what looks to be pain or pleasure. With tremendous effort he pulls himself out of you and your eyes widen in panic.

“What? Daddy why? I thought—”

He shushes you, reaching somewhere overhead to grab a fluffy pillow. "Just wait a sec, okay? There you go.”

The pillow is placed underneath your hips, keeping them elevated. When Hoseok takes his glistening cock in hand and directs it back in, you both moan in unison.

"Oh fuck, I’m gonna, ah,” you gasp as your mind goes blank with pleasure. The new angle is heaven on earth. It’s almost too much, too quick, but Hoseok’s firm grip on your hips prevents you from alleviating the pressure.

"Take it." He grunts, brows knit together. Every powerful snap of his hips makes your breasts bounce, your breath hitch. Without his hands keeping you pinned down, your head would have collided with the headboard by now. "Be a good princess and take your fucking."

He gains momentum, the new angle facilitating the slide of his cock. He drags the flat of his palm down your thigh and takes a hold of your knee before hoisting it up over your shoulder. The stretch burns the back of your calves but you’re so fucked out, you can’t even find the words to complain.

When you glance up, it’s to fall upon the sight of Hoseok brushing his sweaty fringe out of his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, his skin dewy from the film of perspiration wrapped around his body. Beads of sweat trickle down his heaving chest but he chooses to forgo a quick break. On the contrary, he pushes in deeper like he’s determined to carve out a permanent space for his cock.

"Just gonna keep you here,” he huffs, his eyes the shade of cloudless night sky. “Everyday I'll fuck my cum back inside of you so that you'll always stay full. Want to fuck you forever. Don't want this to end."

"Want it too," you sob, orgasm hovering just on the periphery. "Want you to keep me full forever. Ugh - oh fuck! Hoseok- I'm—"

"You gonna cum around my cock, princess?" He angles his hips downwards, relishing in the wanton cry it elicits. "Gonna give me everything?"

"I'm yours," you profess, jaw slack with pleasure.

It doesn’t take much more for the orgasm to crash over you, Hoseok fucks you through it, groaning as your inner walls spasm around him. He breathes out curses, lip drawn tight between his lips, and doesn’t wait for the last waves of your orgasm to abate to chase after his own end.

In the throes of your pleasure, it doesn’t register then that Hoseok has been holding back all this time. If you thought he had been fucking you hard before, it’s nothing compared to now. He growls and bends forward, forcing your leg to stretch even more, and pushes in and out of you at a pace that makes you scream.

You don’t even have time to come down from your first high that you’re already thrown towards your second. Hoseok plugs your mouth up using two digits, his fingers a firm pressure against your tongue. Your eyes roll back, too overwhelmed from the feeling of being stuffed on both ends.

“God, I could fuck your holes all fucking day.” His rhythm begins to falter as the pressure inside of him grows, his movements frantic and less controlled than they’ve ever been. “How about that? I’ll fuck my princess’ mouth properly next time, stretch it out nicely. Then you’ll let me have your ass, hm?”

Shit, shit, you whimper around his fingers, spit bubbling down the sides on your mouth. It’s scary knowing you have no way to stop the oncoming destruction.

“Yeah, I can tell you love that. You’re gonna cream my dick again, aren’t you?” You can’t tell if the sound he makes is a laugh or a grunt. All you know is that you feel like you’re about to burst. “C’mon, be a good girl and milk my cum out. You better get every last drop.”

There’s an underlying threat in his command. You do your best to obey his words, not wanting to disappoint.

Hoseok pushes his cock in as deep as it can go and grinds his hips into yours. His cock reaches so deep that you swear he might hit your cervix. And considering the nature of the scene you’re portraying, maybe that’s what he intends.

He swipes his fingers through the mess of your cunt, zeroing in on your sensitive clit. He swirls some of your fluids over it before giving it a sharp pinch that makes you cry out. Your hips fly off the pillow but Hoseok is quick to pin you back down. The never-ending drag of his cock along your walls paired with the rough ministrations to your clit is all you need for the pressure inside you to snap.

Above you, Hoseok moans, low and throaty, as he finally dumps rope after rope of warm cum inside of you. He throws his head back, exposing the collar of purplish bruises you sucked onto his skin earlier. Something about the view satisfies you immensely - not that you’d dare voice these thoughts out loud.

Hoseok’s strength gives out and he sags onto your body, his breath warm against your skin. He feels hot, like a furnace, but strangely it’s not uncomfortable. It’s almost like having a personal heating pad; the soreness of your muscles melts away with each passing moment.

Much to your displeasure, your post-coital bliss doesn’t last forever. He's given the signal to pull out and obeys, careful to keep your hips propped up so that his load of cum won’t slosh out. He’s still got a role to play, after all, and the end goal is to get you pregnant.

A cameraman walks forward to zoom in on your swollen and used pussy - physical proof of your exploits. The haze lifts. You become more aware of the people standing on the outskirts of your vision, lighting or sound equipment in hand.

“And that’s a wrap!” Director Ryu calls, his cheeks stretched to accommodate the width of his grin. “Good job everybody!”

You breathe out a sigh, glad your day is finally over. Seokjin walks up to you with a robe for you to throw on and you nod in thanks, slipping the satin gown over your sweaty body.

Around you, the staff start milling about, putting the equipment away and gathering their belongings. You pay them no heed, your attention focused on getting changing into showering and changing into comfortable clothes. You’re in the middle of taming your messy hair when your stomach erupts into growls, reminding you of your hungry state. What you’d do for a big slice of piz—

You remember your date with Jimin and speed up, not wanting to make him wait around for you any longer. It’s not hard to spot him - he’s waiting outside of your dressing room, can of coke in hand.

Something about his smile feels off.

Maybe it’s the way his eye corners don’t crease or the slight strain the curve of his mouth that betray him.

Your expression falls. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing - it’s nothing, don’t worry,” he says after a short, tense moment of silence. The look on your face must have reflected your feelings of doubt because he proceeds by reaching out and pulling you tight against him. Pressed up against his shirt, you can smell the faintest trace of the fabric softener he uses and its scent, familiar and sweet, mollifies you somewhat. “You did amazing today, baby. As usual.”

The compliment you’ve been waiting for makes the sides of your lips rise automatically. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Almost too well.” He hums, one of his hands stroking the back of your head.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit, “ you admit. “The results wouldn’t have been half as good if Hoseok hadn’t been my partner. He’s new in the game but he doesn’t act like it, does he?”

“He doesn’t, no.” Jimin agrees. “He’s... he’s something, alright.”

Your grin widens. All your worrying had been for nothing, in the end. The shoot had gone without a hitch, all of the set members coming up to you with praises of a job well done. You can’t recall the last time any of your performances had elicited such a response post-filming. Even Director Ryu looks particularly pleased, a permanent grin etched onto his features as he reviews the tapes. The knowledge that you’ve done well fills you with a pleasant giddiness that warms your insides and makes your cheeks hurt from how wide your smile stretches.

“Oh good, you’re still here.” Hoseok beams. A damp towel hangs around his neck and the ends of his hair are wet like he’s just gone and doused his head under the bathroom faucet. “I was worried you had left. I just - thanks for earlier. I had a lot of fun! If the chance presents itself, I hope we can work together again.”

“Thank you.” You want to praise him too, know that his performance deserves it, but your next words are cut off before they have the chance to form. Jimin steps closer to you, his grip on your hip tightening suddenly.

When you glance up to check on your boyfriend, he’s sporting a serious expression that you’ve rarely seen before. He doesn’t look angry, but it’s clear as day that he isn’t too pleased with the present situation. His face is closed off, cold, unwelcoming - so drastically different from the usual cherubic sweetness you’re accustomed to seeing.

You’re at a loss for words, unsure of who to address first. What’s going on?

Hoseok senses the sudden change in atmosphere and chooses to tactfully retreat.

“Good work, man.” He nods at Jimin and then shoots you a wave. “See you around sometime, ______ !”

Your eyes follow his exit before you turn to face Jimin again, hoping the smile on your face masks the worry you feel bubbling on the inside.

“Jimin what - I mean, are you sure you're okay?”

Jimin returns a strained smile of his own. “I’m fine.”

Your gaze lands on his right hand that’s still squeezing your waist. It borders on uncomfortable but you try not to let it show. You must not do a very good job at schooling your features because Jimin quickly apologizes for his behavior.

“Sorry.” Jimin lets you go once he notices your discomfort. “I just - I don’t know. You’re right, I’m not acting like myself. I think...seeing you say that stuff and act that way just - I’m not sure why, I guess - Since usually the sex isn’t like that, it caught me off guard.”

“You didn’t like that I acted like I was in love with him.”

“Would anyone?” he shoots back, smile sardonic. “It just looked so convincing in the moment. I guess it got me worked up.”

Sure, Hoseok is hot. If you had to work with him again, you would in a heartbeat. It’s not often you land a colleague you’re so sexually compatible with, who also happens to be so well-mannered and good-looking. It’s like hitting the jackpot, really.

But - just because you’d fuck him again for professional reasons, doesn’t mean that you’re interested in him beyond that.

“Jimin. I don’t want to be with anybody else but you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” The muscles in his face relax. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

.

.

It’s not until later, as he fucks you uncharacteristically hard in the backseat of his car parked in the back lot of the film studio, that you begin to wonder if things really are as idyllic as you believe them to be.

.

.

.

#wow so this took a decade and a half to finish but it's finally here ! #final part should be up by the end of the month : ) #bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok #also warning i didn't proofread the smut scene yet so rip if there are any mistakes

[abraxos-is-toothless]

The Beauty That Is She

Started this a few weeks back but never finished so I decided I would:) It will be in about 4/5 parts? Maybe a few more if I feel as though it needs it.

This will be about Fenrys and an Original character, but the character’s name came from the books:)

Full Masterlist.

—————

Fenrys was feeling the most relaxed today than he had in weeks, they had all been run ragged with meeting after meeting, everyone wanting to see his Queen about requests for this and requests for that. He loved his Queen he truly did, she’d saved his life. She gave him a home and a family. But damn it if he didn’t want to strangle her sometimes for making him sit through the boring shit every day. Fenrys was glad they finally had a short break from it all since today it was the twins’ twentieth year of life, and he had only been given one order from Rowan this morning. Search all the rutting nooks and crannies of the castle to find his mischievous son. Connall –Aelin had asked him the day their son was born if he’d allow her to name him after his brother, he’d cried (not that he would ever admit that) and said he’d be honoured- was only seventeen and looked exactly like his father but had the same fiery and devious personality as his mother. They could often be seen plotting together in the corner and then be a new plank played on his elder sisters a few days later. The twins –Nehemia and Evalin- always got revenge after going to their father for new ideas.

Connall was meant to be testing his magic with Rowan while the girls trained with their Uncle Aedion, however he would never go the first time you asked and eventually you would have to drag him out to the courtyard, but luckily for Fenrys he knew all of the boys hiding spots. He found him sitting in front of the window of the corridor leading to the Great Hall with his nose buried in a book; Dorian brought him a new one every time he had to visit for boring royal business. “Con? You know it’s your turn to train with your father, the sooner you do it the sooner you can go back to your books.” Once those pine green eyes met his gaze and the boy let out a very audible sigh he chuckled lightly- he was too much like his mother for his own good.

“I’ll never be able to live up to the power he holds so what does it matter if I train or not?”

They had this argument every time and Fenrys’ answer was always the same, “It doesn’t matter if you hold the same power that Rowan does, your parents just want you to learn so you have multiple things to fall back on if you ever get put into harm's way.” Con finally put his book down and agreed to go train as long as he would come and help him too. He said yes, as he always had to each of the kids since the day they were born.

Once they had both stepped out into the courtyard you could hear Aedion’s deep laughter and a war cry from one of the girls from not being able to get the upper hand on him yet. As they got closer Fenrys noticed that his Queen was sitting up in one of the trees, smirking as she watched her girls trying to figure out where they were going wrong. Rowan was stood off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest and a calculating look on his face, and Lysandra was reprimanding her husband whilst rubbing a hand across her swollen belly asking him to ease up on them for a few minutes and as for the girls, they were throwing insults back and forth blaming each other for their screw up. Nehemia was her mother through and through. Looked like her, sassed like her and had even inherited the power of fire. Not a lot of course, but she and Aelin trained with it as much as they could, the Queen knowing from experience what happens when you don’t. Evalin was different from any of them. She looked like Rowan, most likely because of the hair, but she had Aelin’s eyes. Her powers were extraordinary too, being able to bring forth her father's ice and wind, yet she too could master fire.

Rowan had been almost out of his wits when they had realised what she could do, having witnessed Aelin’s power almost destroy her several times. It had taken Lorcan and himself what had felt like days to reassure him that she would be fine, that all three of them would teach her how to stay in control and Aelin would teach her how to disperse little increments, as not to be overloaded by it.

“Rowan, I’ve found your devil spawn, he’s all yours.” With a wink at the boy in question he shoved him by the shoulder towards the magic lecture that awaited him and walked over to lean against the tree that Aelin was currently sat in. Looking up at her he asked “How’re they doing today?” Dragging her eyes from the girls to focus on him she said, “Mia just wants to throw herself head first into the chaos but Lin keeps trying to tell her about the strategies that you taught her.” He grinned then and turned back towards the sparring blondes muttering ‘That’s my girl.’ Eva -the name only he was allowed to call her; she said it was because people always chose ‘Lin’ or ‘Eve’ but he was the first to use ‘Eva’- had always been the sensible one, using that beautiful brain of hers constantly to break down each sparring scenario they were given and trying to find the weak spots of each opponent she was given. Mia on the other hand had inherited her mother’s stubbornness and seemed to favour the teachings of Lorcan whenever he came for training; kill first and ask questions later. Gods, someone needed to start keeping a closer eye on the two of them on Lorcan’s day for lessons. Maybe Elide could chaperone for a change. Lady Lochan despised watching her husband train, so she always says, yet the two would disappear the minute he stopped. But she was the only one that was able to keep him in check, so he would suffer with the scent of the two of them, if only to stop Mia from becoming a terrifying mix of Death and Fire.

After a few hours had passed, Fenrys was watching Connall throw shard after shard of ice for his father to dodge when Eva caught his eye from across the yard and he watched her pull a manoeuvre he’d taught her a few days ago on a clueless Aedion, making him laugh. She turned towards him then, but he froze suddenly as turquoise eyes locked with his. There was a sudden tug on his soul that left him breathless and made his senses feel heightened. She had felt it too it seemed because her sword arm had fallen limp at her side, however the distraction cost her, when Aedion’s blade managed to slice across Eva’s shoulder. He watched her cry out and drop to her knees yet he couldn’t hear anything past the blood rushing in his ears but from the vibrations in his chest he knew he was growling. All eyes were flicking between the wounded female on the floor and him; Rowan had stopped just short of his daughter when he heard Fenrys. He couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Eva was hurt and bleeding and that there was a voice in the back of his head that would not stop shouting at him, over and over.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Of all the people fate had to choose for him, it gave him someone that was very much off limits. Rowan fucking Whitehorn’s daughter. Oh he was so very, very dead. Everything had come back to him now and he could still hear himself growling when he said “Whitehorn. Do. Not. Move.” The threat was stupid of course because that was her god’s damned father, but she was hurt, she was bleeding and Rowan was incredibly close to her and nearly cutting her from his line of sight.

He knew that Rowan knew then, when he caught him scenting the air and turned to look at him but simply stated, “Do not assume to think you have some claim on her because of what has just been revealed, she hasn’t even accepted you yet. She has no idea what this means.”

Aelin had come down from the tree now and was steadily walking towards them, eyes only for her daughter. Eva looked to her mother when she was close enough to kneel at her side and, voice laced with confusion, asking, “What’s happening? What haven’t I accepted? I don’t understand.” Every instinct was screaming at him to go to her, to soothe her and tell her everything was going to be alright, however, as he dared to lift his foot to do just that, Rowan was blocking his path in an instant.

“Please. Please just let me go to her. You know how this feels, just. Please.” There was a hand placed on his shoulder then, as a comfort or a restraint he wasn’t sure.

“Not until she understands.”

Connall was now on the ground by his sister helping her to heal faster with his magic. Mia was looking at them all with confusion and curiosity. Aedion and Lys seemed to be torn between leaving to give them privacy and staying to provide some sort of back up just in case. Not they needed to; he’d never, ever, put her in danger.

“Lin,” Aelin was saying, “I need you to listen to me carefully okay?” A nod for her mother but her eyes were focused on him. “Do you remember the story I told you about when Manon and I fought?”

“You said that when you were trying to get away again, Manon’s friend Asterin shot an arrow that was aimed for you but daddy jumped in front of it.” Eva’s words were a little slow and shaky, probably trying to recall as much of the story as she could. He tried taking another step, growling again when Rowan tightened the grip on his shoulder. He watched as her eyes went wide, and there was a slight twitch of her hand, as if she too wanted to reach out for him.

“And then what did I tell you about that moment?”

Eva’s brows furrowed and he wanted to press his thumb into the spot, smoothing it away. She was beautiful, truly, no matter what she was doing and he wanted to tell her, wanted to breathe the words against her lips, neck, her stomach, and then lower. The last few years, he hadn’t stopped noticing her beauty, and it was difficult at first. She had always been Rowan’s daughter but now, now he didn’t care. Now he just wanted, wanted, wanted.

“You said that you had screamed because in that moment you had felt...you had...he was...” Her eyes widened and her head whipped towards her mother, her breathing ragged and the scent of her filling the air. She was a mix of pine and jasmine, a mix of her parents, and it was the most intoxicating scent. He breathed in deeply as his eyes fluttered for a moment, letting it calm him.

Suddenly, Eva was standing, legs a little wobbly as she walked over to him and tapping Rowan’s arm, silently asking him to move. His brother hesitated but relented and stepped back, taking Aelin’s hand in his own as they watched their daughter. She was right in front of him now, head tilted back to actually look at him and that voice in his mind returned.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His breath caught in his throat when she lifted one of her hands and stroked from his temple to his jaw, then cupping his cheek gently in her palm. Fenrys let out and unsteady breath and his heart soared when she whispered into the space between them;

“You’re my mate.”

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I’ll probably make a little personality thing on each of the kids at some point, just to go into more depth. If you want to be in the tags for this then just let me know!!:))

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#tog #throne of glass #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x original #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aedion ashryver #lysandra ennar #original character #-> #evalin #nehemia #connall #all names came from the books #my writing #my fic #haz writes #tog fanfic #tog fic #fanfiction #post koa