#I THINK the concept of these sets r SO cool but my heart is with last yrs set.........with the bg..and the way u could put the cards next t

[lunarcry]

both having animal-themed plays as their bday cards makes me laugh (there was someone else who also had it...muku?? or was it yuki??? it for sure was summer troupe right????) but aaaaaarrrgghhhh.............theyre so cute...my dearest spring troupe....

anyway masumis hammer....

i think they should hang out

#stardust speaking ! #post. sakuya #post. emu #I THINK the concept of these sets r SO cool but my heart is with last yrs set.........with the bg..and the way u could put the cards next t #e/o u know... #(actually kinda wants to write masumi eventually too) #i say a lot of things for someone who havent started rereading a3 yet #I WANT EMU TO HANG OUT WITH A3 PPL SO BAAAAAADD.....CAN THEY COLLAB ALRDY

[definitelynotshouting]

(Hunger au) I'm going into ecology and it's fascinating looking at your au's ecosystem, especially since this doesn't necessarily seem driven by natural selection and instead by just. The universe creating what it needs, with a purpose in mind. That's so different from our world that it's fascinating to think about the implications. Rather than existing to take advantage of and respond to resources and selective pressures, theyre basically creating said resources/pressures. The watchers are having to manually adapt to survive after a bottleneck effect, which to be fair even if there was natural selection they'd probably have to cuz adaptation takes a looong time in species with long reproductive cycles. Do they have a genome? Or are they just being arbiters of mutation themselves (by that i mean theres no genome so theyre changing their species themselves since theres nothing to mutate)? Do offspring inherit traits? What does this mean for natural selection (cuz like. If they survive differently depending on how their traits match up to the environment and selective pressures there is)? With the seekers gone are expected to have a population rebound barring any other selective pressures/fitness independent factors on their population? Their reproductive strategy seemingly aligns with the low pressure they're facing... I read a paper to understand this and it's really cool:

(From https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-019-42562-7)

They seem to be an r-selected species and invest a lot in their offspring, but they just naturally have low infant survival rates. This is the sort of species that does not do well in the long run so that adds urgency to their efforts to edit themselves.

All this to say that I'm rotating the concept of an ecological system that has one of ecology's core tenants (evolution) heavily altered/removed. Tis fascinating.

between you and chem anon im going to have a heart attack over sciency people looking at my silly au /lh

I really did want to go like vastly different from how our world works since this is such a video game setting-- it was really fun to noodle about what a universe made out of code instead of DNA would look like!!! and having the universe be quasi-sentient, affected by a form of evolution itself as well (thank you julien gough for the universe evolution theory that i have wholeheartedly adopted into my worldview).... idk its led to some very interesting worldbuilding for sure 😂😂😂

Watchers-- or any entity in this universe, actually-- dont really have a genome like we'd understand it. Instead, theyre made up of code and code blocks, which i guess would sorta mimic that to a certain degree, but its more tipped in favour of computer programming than biology. The whole au sorta just wholesale marries the two together, along with physics and chemistry (i am currently percolating on how crafting works in this au rn and my current idea involves the concept of the crafting table acting somewhat like a catalyst, which. okay dont take that as gospel yet i havent fully cooked on that one) etc etc etc.

But the Watchers did intentionally change their coding to help defend against the Seekers when they were being hunted into extinction!!! Watchers already had a natural affinity for deep coding, so while it took a lot of effort and caused a lot of damage to themselves, they managed to rapidly change their code structure (aka this universe's version of genetic makeup) to get better at, well. Watching. Seeing the Seekers coming far enough in advance to run before they got there became their primary defense against getting voraciously hunted, and by the end of it the Seekers starved out and went extinct bc they'd gotten so adept at avoiding them.

Offspring is interesting because in my mind at their base level (so genetically/code structurally speaking), Watchers are identical clones of each other. They reproduce asexually-- think uhhh mourning geckos and some species of aphids, which reproduce via parthenogenesis. So yes, in a sense they do inherit traits, but its in a direct line from the parent as a genetic copy. Their memory codes and surface code layers are what differentiate themselves from each other

Reading this chart is so interesting.... i'd say you're right in that Watchers would be considered an r-selected species!! I think if they werent like. Essentially made out of tissue paper thats constantly getting damaged and having to be repaired, they would be able to bounce back to the point of population rebound for sure. The problem with that though is there are only about 40 Watchers left-- thats how bad and out of control the situation got. And since they have such a long reproductive cycle, and such a high infant mortality rate, and their experiment with Grian went so wrong, AND the universe formed Listeners to replace them via direct competition (Watchers cant feed from Listener-infected Players!!), they are unfortunately headed right for extinction too.

Hopefully this makes a modicum of sense and isnt just me totally talking out of my ass wkdnjedjkejdke but i hope this answered most of your questions!!! Im really glad you like the direction ive taken this, its a lot of fun to conceptualize a world that works on different rules than our own :]

#shouting speaks #asks #hunger au #evo watchers #minecraft worldbuilding #mcyt #long post #i need u to understand how insanely intimidating it is to have ppl who actually study this stuff eyeballing it AKDNAKDJKSKS /LH #I NEVER WENT TO COLLEGE!!! IM OPERATING ON A HIGH SCHOOL LEVEL EDUCATION HERE!!!!! #i just also supplement it with a metric fuckton of research and bullying my brain into understanding hyperspecific terms #me reading these incredibly dry papers like i WILL force myself to get it. gun to my FUCKING head #😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 #txt

[mister13eyond]

I love you gothic horror au so much! Idk why, but if I see it I just start thinking about that 8-bit games like Witch's house, Mad father, etc. That was like compliment, sorry if it was understood wrong. Just that cool wibes

And question: if there are good and bad endings, is there secret or neutral? Just my curiosity .

And sorry if there are mistakes, English isn't my first language (but I understand almost everything good, it's problem with writing)

Hope you have a great day/night

THANK YOU that definitely is a compliment, I love RPGMaker horror games like Witch's House, etc- Ib was a huge influence on me and one of the very first horror games I ever played! As well as Yume Nikki (and related fangames), Fleschild, OFF, et cetera- That genre of horror game is awesome, so it's an honor to know my AU gives off the same vibes <3

As for endings... I definitely have thoughts on neutral and secret endings! :3c Thoughts below the cut, so this post isn't too long:

So, if the bad end is "Doppio burns the house down and stays inside as it burns so it (and Diavolo) doesn't have to be alone" and the good end is "Doppio makes a home in his heart and his mind for Diavolo, and the two of them leave together as two souls in one body- as they're meant to be", then my thoughts for neutral endings are as follows: Neutral 1: I imagine this is the ending you get if you're closer down the "burn it down" path, but you're one or two factors off- maybe you missed a couple events or spared a boss you could have killed, so you're not quite locked into the "bad end" path. Doppio knows that the house is hungry and will continue to consume others if he leaves, and he knows the house will never rest and it will never let him go... so he stays. He agrees to stay and keep its hallways lit and its rooms filled with life; he knows he will never see his Donatella again, but he promises he will write to her so long as he has a hand that can hold a quill and a mind that can form words. Neutral 2: I imagine this ending is the one you get if you're closer down the "good end" path, but you've made a few mistakes- maybe missed a key item, or killed an enemy you could have spared, et cetera- so you haven't fully unlocked the best end.

Doppio almost makes it out. He almost makes it into the light- he offers a home in his heart to Diavolo, he promises he won't leave him alone- but right on the cusp of freedom, something awful happens. Perhaps he's attacked, or perhaps the house- unwilling to let go- unleashes some catastrophe on him; either way, Doppio is gravely injured. Staggering to Diavolo, he begs Diavolo not to give up; to go on without him. Diavolo doesn't want to go, but Doppio makes him promise, so Diavolo does what he can to take Doppio with him- he slips into Doppio's dying body and heals it; too little, too late to save Doppio's soul, but it's just enough to let Diavolo walk free of the doors. He writes to Donatella in his big, loopy scrawl- "i aM co mI Ng , m Y d e e a R e st. Ho mE s o oN."

SECRET ending: every game needs a secret ending that implies a sequel hook, right? i haven't decided which, or what exactly the theoretical unlock conditions would be, but two friends suggested two really great concepts, both of which would be perfect for a secret ending: a.) Donatella, recieving mysterious correspondence from her fiance, and far too headstrong to sit back and wait for him, takes matters into her own hands. She sets out to find the house that swallowed her fiance whole; the ending shows the grand doors to the foyer opening, and Donatella stepping through into the dark <3 OR b.) Years after the event of the game, a young woman- an up and coming silent film starlet named Trish Una- decides she's going to, once and for all, solve the mystery of the strange circumstances surrounding her father from before her birth. She is going to find the house from his letters, and she is going to understand her past once and for all <3

#also dont worry your writing was very clear and i understood everything perfectly! thank you so much! #i'm so happy to hear that ppl are enjoying this strange little AU #it's definitely a mishmash of every piece of media i've ever loved ngl #gothic horror AU #diadop gothic horror au #diavolo jojo #diavolo jjba #aceto doppio #vinegar doppio #donatella una #trish una #answers

[loverboypercy]

Starline for the acrostic game? ~sunlight-ships

ACROSTIC F/O ASK GAME

thank uuu @sunlight-ships <33

S - Story - if you and them were in a fairytale, which story would you be and who would play which character?

tbh i already have an idea of sa/tbk red being morgan le fay - granted as much more of a "arthur/sonics silly wizard sibling that lives in the mountains" than their more traditional kind of personality.

i think it would be funny if we got to see eggs in that universe as some kinda evil king, w starline as his like advisor, trusted guard or smthin. then he gets seduced by a funny weirdo.

T - Teach - what skills of theirs would they teach you? what would you teach them?

uh, i mean. they had to start learning more hand-to-hand combat bcs thats what starline kinda does-

but in their like. actual relationship he'd try to get red into hacking and some of the more advanced robotic stuff but they either are Bad at it or just don't really care all that much.

however, i hc that he actually loves cooking/baking so thats something they get to do together and bond over ! he's also one of those Fancy mfers that have their tea like done in a specific way. buddy learns how to do that for him bcs sometimes he needs a lil pick-me-up

A - Art - do they draw or paint? what about any other kind of art? what’s their favorite style/subject/another artist who inspires them?

he admits to having a mild soft spot for aesthetics. he did design and paint his logo himself after all ! if he did end up making art it would probably be more the abstract kind. its a little pretentious but like. red thinks its cute.

he is not allowed to talk about his inspiration and why he wont stop drawing stylised cityscapes and theme parks.

R - Rainbow - what colors do you associate with them and why?

tbh that really nice magenta on his outfit and his eyes make me a lil <3 u kno. its a v pretty colour !

L - Language - what’s their love language? what’s yours?

being annoying /j

i think its pretty solidly set up from his canon appearances that he's an acts of service/gifts kinda guy ! red is also gifts but also quality time.

I - Image - show us a picture of them that gives you a lot of feelings. if they aren’t a visual character, describe your mental image of them!

i love everyones take on him but evans got a special little place in my heart. also his gay little earrings,, never forget what they took from us..

(i also really REALLY love his more monsterous/frankenstein-y concept art where he is Tall. but this post is already really LONG-)

N - Nostalgia - what’s your f/o’s favorite memory?

considering uh. how He Is and comments made off-handedly on ians podcast - i imagine his family wasnt. the best. there was always a disconnect there, and he never really felt like he fit in with them.

but theres one time. he built a little robot for his mother - a very simple and crude thing, something he'd be ashamed of now. but it made her smile and she ruffled his hair. its his most treasured memory, and he hates it.

a second is the first time red called him starlight unironically (it was a bit of a joke before they became actual friends/partners, red called it him once by accident and he got So Mad that they kept doing it). they were still just, very loosely, friends at that point. he was still figuring out what to do with himself, so red took him out to the chao garden with them that morning and had him help out a little. at one point they remarked:

"i don't know if you'll get it right, starlight. but i hope you do."

E - Emotion - is your f/o open with their feelings or do they keep them close to their chest?

starline is one of those people that just bottle and bottle and bottle until they explode - usually by having a breakdown and crying. sometimes he lets stuff slip but he tries so hard to desperately hold onto his cool and calculated persona that it just makes him slip more.

#iloveyou.ans #starlight💫.rom #long post #i kno ive been v jokey w this ship but like. i love this guy a lot #i want to explore this stuff bcs while i enjoy him as a villain i geniunely kinda want him to get better. away from all the teens he #traumatized ofc #its okay kids you dont have to redeem the bad guy this time ill just make him fall in love w me itll be fine dw

[miloscat]

[Review] Wario Land: Super Mario Land 3 (GB)

Not quite one thing or t'other.

My friend Captain picked Virtual Boy Wario Land for our retro game club this month, so I’m taking the opportunity to play through the whole Wario Land series. I’ve only played the third game before, so so for me this represents an interesting step in the journey from tweaks on the Mario formula to the series developing a more sophisticated identity as they figure out what a Wario game is.

Nintendo’s R&D1 team always made interesting games outside of the EAD orthodoxy. The Super Mario Land games on Game Boy were fun offbeat takes that led into Wario taking the lead role in the third instalment, but the Mario bones are still there. You have a life counter, a powerup system, even a bloody time limit! All things the series would soon grow out of.

But Wario’s brashness as a brawny bruiser brings new business: he can body enemies on their unprotected sides, then easily pick them up and throw them, bish bash bosh. He has a shoulder barge for breaking blocks and biffing baddies. Besides which, his powerups have odd abilities that significantly change how you move through and interact with the game world as you explore.

The Super Mario World-inspired map has the occasional secret exit (including what is I think a whole optional world!), but also a handful of triggers to change the state of levels. For example, in world 1 after beating the boss, the tide comes in, some levels become flooded, and you can revisit them to find new treasures. This is a cool idea if perhaps a little underused (it’s no Impossible Lair).

The treasures are fun extras to find, which play into the ending. Wario’s greed is expressed through his collecting of cash to be traded in for a more impressive domicile during the credits, towards which treasures play a significant part. Otherwise coins are decoupled from the life system, with a new heart pickup filling up your total as well as contributions from surplus powerups and defeating enemies. Coins also must be cashed out during a level to activate checkpoints and the exit door, and can be used in shallow minigames afterwards for a chance at a higher payout or heart bonus.

Wario Land is a nice little proof of concept, if awkward at times. Holding up to jump higher is a bit clumsy, especially because it also boosts your aerial mobility (perhaps unintentionally?). Wario is a huge sprite on screen, and moves quite slowly unless you use this trick or have the flying hat. Also, while the enemies have fun designs and interactions, the bosses are pretty pathetic… until you get to the final boss Captain Syrup who establishes her charisma quickly and sets you into an interesting battle with her captive djinni. I know what the series settled into later, so this game feels like a stepping stone to that, an outlier… but that makes it unique in both the series it’s leaving and the series it’s becoming. And that’s something to celebrate.

#wario #wario land #super mario land 3 wario land #nintendo r&d1 #review #gb

[togamzee]

"Back again? I'm literally almost shocked. If you had never contacted me I'd think I somehow blacked out for a month and I was missing a meeting. What's going on with you?"

Hisa had a way of speaking that never failed to come off aggressive, intentionally or otherwise. If anyone in the world was his friend, just a regular, normal person friend, it was Hisa. He was grateful for her in his own way.

Ryo rolled his eyes, clasping his hands behind his head as they walked the road of the main estate. He had gone with a different, more casual yukata this time, a deep red with a large floral print. The black accents pulled it together for him, alongside the half-up bun in his hair. Ever since Eri had complimented them, he'd made a point to keep his nails painted as well. Not only did he like the look of black nails, any loving words she spoke immediately imprinted themselves in his heart and head.

Thankfully the lack of response wasn't met with silence. His mind didn't have time to wander. Hisa could fill silence whether he'd want to listen or not.

"Hello? Vacant brain? Is anyone home? Pay attention to me. Fucking Wakatoshi has stopped me and talked to me like three times about you."

The last sentence became a hushed whisper as she grabbed his arm, pulling him down closer so he'd be able to hear. He blinked.

"...Three times? About what?"

"You, dumbass!"

She slapped the back of his head before he could roll his eyes and reposition his hands. "Come on. We're gonna get some ramen. I'm not letting you off the hook for making me interact with that sadistic creep."

His heart lurched, which she noted quickly by the sudden change in his expression.

"Calm down. He's not even here. He should be back in like...an hour or two."

How would you know if he didn't already return?

Ryo nodded, putting up a smiling face for the sake of appearance. At least for the duration of the walk to the shop.

Spicy Shoyu Ramen put his mind off of things. And while he loved his grandmothers cooking, (and his own, of course) he would rank this shop's as his favorite. A fact Hisa was all too aware of, and possibly took advantage with to lower his defenses enough to express something honest to her.

She let him finish eating first.

"You're dating the Murakami heiress, right?"

Such an exasperated sigh. He dropped his chin into his hands, staring at her from the other side of the table.

"Yeah, I am."

"Cool. She's kind of a hottie. I mean, you're a real pretty boy and all so I guess I'm not surprised."

Hisa tapped her nails against the table, dodging his eye contact as she spoke. "He asked me about it. Which, even if I did have a rare fucking hidden scroll titled 'insight into Ryo's personal affairs' I sure wouldn't be using it to fuel his fetish over you."

Out of sheer embarrassment, his face was hit with that all too familiar warmth in his cheeks. "Hisa, shut up--"

"I'm only kind of kidding. But like...seriously." A sternness cast over her eyes, brow furrowing as she learned in. "Are you gonna be okay? Like, I couldn't lie about the setting you up with weapons in Italy thing. It's not like I run a side project. This is kind of just...like...business in that area, you know?"

Ryo sighed again, wishing silently he could have a break from the concept of 'business'.

"I'm aware. I never expected you to lie or cover for me. It would've been weird if you had. I didn't do anything wrong, so...I can't imagine I have much to worry about. He just wants to try and rile me up like always. It's my fault if I take the bait."

Hisa pursed her lips together, the look of annoyance coming across plainly. "Well...whatever. You'll be fine as always."

The bells attached to the sliding door chimed quietly.

Dark blue eyes fell on his.

"R-Ryo-kun...can we talk?"

He could only blink back at Mei for a moment or two. Hisa's mouth hung open, staring over at her best friend wide eyed as if to scream what the fuck are you fucking doing--

"Um...sure."

As quickly as his brain recovered and starting turning again, Ryo tried to recall how many months--or, years? Fuck, which was it, how long had it been since he left her at that wedding reception--

He made it over to the entryway Mei stood in, flashing a farewell look of confusion and apology at Hisa before closing the door behind them.

The awkward silence was tangible. Ryo didn't think of Mei often, if at all. Walking beside her unfortunately managed to stir those few months worth of forced romantic memories from their grave in his head.

He surveyed her out of the corner of his eye for a moment. She was taller than Eri, not by a ton, but enough. Her dark brown hair was long, but not as long as Eri's, and a flash of guilt and pity for her hit that he had never felt (or bothered to feel) before. Then again, he had never actively compared Mei to anyone before. He didn't have a genuine frame of reference regarding his type till now.

Judging by the way her hands trembled while they walked, Ryo could only assume she wouldn't have any courage to actually break the ice between them.

"How have you been?"

She nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. Her gaze snapped up to meet his, and quickly faltered down to the path in front of them. Ryo figured since she hadn't given them any sort of direction a park was going to have to suffice for this conversation. They'd managed this long without speaking, so...he didn't see any reason as to why she chose to switch it up now.

"I...I have been good. I started cleaning. Sometimes."

"Oh, really? Have you been at any of mine?"

The second question didn't startle her as much.

"I have." Her fingers idly pulled at the edged of her sleeves. She always spoke quietly, but there was an evenness in her tone at the confirmation. "The politician one...that's. The last one I went to. But...I have a question, Ryo..." She stopped, biting at her lip. There was no chance in hell she'd look up at him. He knew that much. He stopped in front of her, crossing his arms and decided to watch her fumble her way through whatever it is she could get out of her system.

"That night, my mom also went...to. Your other one. And no one even knew there was another project then...I overheard her discuss it with my dad late one evening. She said it was horrible, and gruesome..."

Personally, he considered a fine art. Though, it didn't mean that any of those descriptors were mutually exclusive. Eri's wack-a-mole murder was intensely horrific in a way that dazzled him. Even still, Ryo wasn't an idiot. To a large majority of people, it's...

"A nightmare. My mom is still haunted by it, and we do a lot of really bloody scenes, so..."

Her voice hitched. Clear, heavy drops of tears began to spill. Mei wiped at her eyes with a sleeve, shaking her head, making an attempt to catch a breath before she could continue. He wanted to roll his eyes, and walk away from this one sided emotionally charged conversation. Ryo desperately did not want to waste energy faking empathy with this girl again. Yet he knew the right thing, the normal thing, and not totally disturbingly heartless thing to do, would be to force it.

He could do that.

"Mei, calm down. Are you going to ask me if that was really me?" His voice was soft as he took a step closer, tilting his head as a small frown touched his lips. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. Tears kept steadily travelling down her cheeks as she drank in as much of the eye contact with him as she could stand.

"...Did you do it, Ryo?"

"Why would you need to know if I did?"

"I--it's. I...don't know. Because...for my mom to be so upset..." She wiped her eyes and face dry once more, taking in a few shaky recovery breaths. Good, expertly done Ryo! She's calming down, you're a real empathy master--

"...She isn't the only one who...has spoken about it. Ryo, if he knows the extent of what you did..."

"He does. I already got his speech about it, so if you're worried about me just..." Fuck, her eyes are already shaking again. "Just...thanks, but. I'm okay, so. Don't cry on my behalf."

Mei searched his face again, seeking out signs of insincerity. He had become almost flawless when it came to the art of expressions with her. It was always way easier to fake it than have her cry about why his face looked so blank.

And she seemed somewhat satisfied with what she found at the moment.

"You always say you're okay. I want to believe you, but when I saw you last time, you looked so...hurt."

"It always hurts to have to listen to my mentor nag at me. I'm sure he tortures you with every conversation too!"

The brightness in his voice did not match the content of his words. She opened her mouth to reply, hot tears again brimming in her eyes. Mei was in the process of reaching out to him when his phone started buzzing. Her hand froze.

"Speak of the devil, right? Sorry, Mei. Maybe next time we can catch up better." Ryo smiled and waved, turning on his heel as he answered Wakatoshi's called.

This was probably one of the handful of instances Ryo was grateful to hear his voice. Whatever the reason, Wakatoshi was significantly easier for him to deal with than Mei was.

"You're late! I come back and you don't even treat it as a priority? Just when I had my bags packed to move in, too!"

He did not turn back to face her.

This had to be what authentic deja vu felt like. Not the stuff he had with Eri, or places, alleyways, clubs...

Sitting at the same outdoor chair in the hot summer evening across from Wakatoshi again. He was smoking again. Ryo kept his focus on the ashing of the cigarette. He wasn't a smoker, but sometimes the act itself seemed to have a soothing edge to him even as an observer. If it weren't for the risk of lung cancer he'd probably be addicted to it.

"How was Italy, Ryo? I haven't been in many years."

"A lot of wine and Italian people."

Wakatoshi let out a short laugh. "You're right. Is your girlfriend a wine enthusiast, then?"

"Why is everyone so up my ass about her? It's weird. Get a hobby."

"It's the situations you get into surrounding her, Ryo. Sure, if you were a renowned traveler maybe I could stay silent. I could hold my tongue if you took a week off for a romantic vacation, too. But why would you need guns, Ryo? Why would you need any sort of work related equipment on a leisurely vacation?"

"Cause I like having them. I'd have freaked out if I was somewhere new without any defenses."

"Sure, I thought so too. And I initially left it at that. I simply had the nagging feeling there was more to it, though...and a Castiglione wandered off a cliff, did he?"

Ryo blinked. And that already gave it away, the involvement he presumably had already solidified in Wakatoshi's mind. Ryo wanted to curse himself yet again for allowing himself to sit right down and set this man up for another annoying checkmate.

"You absolutely cannot operate like that. We've let the previous incident slide, but now...There was no contract work, nothing you documented aside from asking Hisa for weapons you presumably used--and to throw someone off of a cliff? Have you lost your mind, Ryo?"

Wakatoshi shoved the cigarette into the ash tray, rising from his seat and slamming a hand on the table. Ryo stared up at him, while all the traces of light and emotion disappeared from his face.

"I didn't do it. Seriously."

"Don't ever lie to me about this, boy--"

Ryo's lip curled as Wakatoshi threw the table aside, in the same instant making a grab for his arm. Ryo quickly rose, stepping out of line from his grasp and sweeping his leg under the older man's heels. Wakatoshi dropped to his knees. Ryo drew a knife, jabbing the tip of it against his throat right at the threshold of breaking skin.

"I'm telling you I didn't do it. Do you think I'm that stupid? That willing to throw my career on the line? Over a lame ass Italian mafia kid? Of course not--"

"You wouldn't kill someone on her behalf? Unsolicited? Forgive me for not believing you."

His grip on the knife tightened. It'd feel so good to sink it in, he just had to push a little further...

Wakatoshi swallowed, the movement and flexing of skin enough for Ryo's momentary trance to fully take hold of the instant. Just the slightest added pressure from the both of them resulted in a thin trail of blood that ran down Wakatoshi's neck. Ryo's breath softened. He held the blade in that spot for another several heartbeats before pulling away. He bit his lip and took a step back, dropping the knife.

"I...sorry."

Wakatoshi grunted, pressing his hand to the wound. He took a deep breath as he stood, shaking his head. "Not exactly the first time, Ryo."

Yeah, but...

The feeling was already present, and he had nothing on his agenda for another day before he'd be able to satisfy the urge the sight of his blood had started. As soon as the circuits in his mind connected that strand of thoughts together, he was frozen, staring at where the knife had fallen.

"I need you to absolutely verify this, Ryo. You did not kill Fabio Castiglione?"

"I didn't kill him. I swear it. That has nothing to do with me."

"I'm sure it does have to do with her, though. I'll take your word this time. Ryo...do not make that kind of mistake. I do not want to answer for the damage to our reputation you would cause."

Normally the comment would get on Ryo's nerves just enough, but...he couldn't bring the emotion to the surface.

"Got it."

"Good. I won't repeat myself." Wakatoshi wiped at the blood, wincing as he placed his hand back over it. "...Well. Seeing as I need to clean myself up, you aught to finish your rounds. It'd look good for you to be more personable around here."

Ryo would do no such thing.

His mouth felt dry. He had left the knife on the ground, cursing himself for allowing the urge take it out win in the first place. He hated how all consuming his fight response was in regards to Wakatoshi. No one else dared to test him like that...surely, he had to tire of getting the wind knocked out of him. Or knives drawn on him. Even a gun, once.

This was the first time he had actually unintentionally drawn blood, though. Some of his hits had left bruises, some scrapes from throwing him to concrete on occasion, and the numerous times where training got too charged on both sides, but...maybe he would kill Wakatoshi. Some day.

He got into his car, dropping against the headrest. Ryo closed his eyes and let out a slow, quiet breath.

The sensation was indescribable. And it never failed to consume him. He only knew of one way to fill the desire, to be able to tie it off and put it aside till he was given a reason to let it fill his lungs and blood again.

He couldn't exactly go on an unsolicited killing spree. Not after that conversation. Not ever, for that matter.

Hands gripped the steering wheel. He should get a motel for the night, if he was being honest with himself. But the majority of his clothes were still at her house, and he didn't have a change for work clothes in his car right now. Sitting here parked wouldn't make it easier to come up with a plan, either.

He started the car, making it about a mile down the road before he dialed Eri's number.

[seiyasabi]

Fixation

(This is a Yandere Yelena x Fem Reader story ;)) This takes place in a Modern AU outside of the anime, and I won’t justify my reasoning lmao 

TW: Coercion, !Drugging!, Manipulation, !Noncon!, !Dubcon!, Daddy kink (ehehe), spanking, she’s a straight up Dom w her tall ass, kinda a meanie, degradation!, handcuffs!, use of sex toys!, Overstim!, size kink!, dumbification?, unwanted filming!, etc.. 

Proceed with caution! Sorry if this is too self indulgent lmao, when women (lesbians) talk to me, I become the biggest idiot to ever exist :)) ) 

Today wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt. 

Begrudgingly smoothing down the lilac fabric of your skirt, you huff indignantly. All you wanted to do was look cute for your crush, Marco, but it seems that that was too much to ask for. 

Your white sweater, at least, keeps you somewhat warm from the harsh wind. It’s tucked into the waistband of your high waisted skirt, and your thigh high socks push the fat of your cute thighs out slightly. The sound of your white sneakers against the pavement is drowned out by your classmates’ loud voices, and you’re seemingly unaware of a certain black-eyed glare. 

Seeing your classroom come into view, you hurry inside, sliding into your lab assigned seat. Eyeing the dark haired male of your dreams, you can’t help but sigh pathetically at the fact that he hasn’t noticed you. Up until recently, the two of you were great friends-always hanging out and texting one another. But, the moment the both of you picked up this class, everything changed. 

Hearing the seat next to you slide open, you glance up at your seatmate. Smiling up at the tall woman, you greet her kindly, “Hi, Lena! How’re you today?” 

The Russian exchange student smirks down at you, as she plops onto the seat, “Good, now that you’re here.” 

Laughing at her gruff words, you wave her off, “You always say that,” Zipping open your backpack, you pull out your class notes, “What’re you going to do this weekend?”

Her smirk widens, dark eyes gleaming, “Why? Asking me on a date?” You laugh once more, completely oblivious to her hopeful tone. 

“You’re so funny, Lena,” Pulling out your pack of multicoloured pens, you start to set up for your class, “I just heard you speaking with Annie about ‘something big’ the other day, so I became curious.” 

Not one to acknowledge boundaries, the blonde woman starts to play with your (hair/sweater), “I’m throwing a party, one you should come to,” Her tone leaves no room to negotiate, but you don’t really notice. Nodding, you smile up at her. 

“Sounds fun! When is it and who’s going?” Her hand trails down to your thigh, fiddling with your sock. Brushing off your mild alarm at her ministrations, you justify her actions through your cultural differences. 

“Tonight at eight. Annie and her friends should be there, same with Marco and a few others,” She name dropped the kind man on purpose, knowing your misguided infatuation with him. If only you knew how much of a pussy he is. All she did was threaten him once, and suddenly he stayed clear of you. It made her life easier, sure, but it annoyed her that he dropped you like a gutted fish. You’re too good for that. 

Pulling out your phone, you pull up your calendar, showcasing that you have no plans this evening, “Okay, I can go!” 

Her smirk grows wider than before, “Great,” Yelena’s accent seemingly grows thicker, her r rolling more harshly than before. 

With that, class begins without a hitch; Yelena’s hand still glued to your perfect thigh. 

-

Stepping out of your car, you readjust your new outfit. Keeping the thigh highs from earlier, you changed your lilac skirt for a black, body con one, along with a cropped, black long sleeve shirt that accentuates your cleavage. 

Slamming your car door shut, you lock it with your key, before heading towards Yelena’s luxurious flat. You can hear low music and voices from her open top floor balcony, multiple shadows moving inside her home. 

With a fast beating heart, you can’t help but hope that Marco will speak with you tonight. With that hope deep in your chest, you step inside the fancy building’s lobby. Approaching the front desk, you go to show them your ID, but are met with brightly smiling faces. 

“Go on up to the tenth floor, (Your Name)! Yelena already told us that you’re coming!” Surprise overcomes your form. Why do they know you by appearance alone? You’ve never even been here before. 

“Oh, okay! Thank you,” Deciding to ignore the weird situation at hand, you head towards the lift. Pressing the button, you wait a few moments, before stepping into the open lift doors. The sleek metal walls reflect your appearance back at you, whilst you press the pristine ‘10’ button. With a small beep, the lift begins to move, practically flying at top speed to the top floor. 

Once at the tenth floor, the doors fly open, showing what looks to be a living room. You can’t help but gawk at the large flat displayed before you. Your classmate must be quite wealthy to afford a place like this. 

You awkwardly make your way inside, and are immediately greeted by the party’s host, “Hey, (Your Name), welcome!” You’re side hugged by a buff arm, practically slammed into Yelena’s torso. 

“Hey, thanks for having me!” You pat her back in an attempt to have her let you go, but instead, it seems to spur her on. She drags you towards a large L-shaped couch, which is filled by Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. A handful of others sit at her dining room table and kitchen counter, the open concept allowing everyone to see and speak to each other comfortably. 

Reiner glances up from the story he’s telling Historia and Ymir, a grin painting his handsome features, “Whoa, that’s a new look for you, (Your Name)!” 

Multiple eyes are suddenly glued to your now self conscious form, an uneasy smile on your face, “Hello, everyone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great! It’s just really different from your normal, cute clothes,” People nod and agree with the large man, causing you to break out in a nervous sweat. 

“Well, I hope I don’t look too bad,” You joke halfheartedly, “I just wanted to try something new.” 

Yelena takes your appearance in, practically salivating. Whilst she does enjoy your usual clothing, this look fits you quite well. 

“You look very nice,” Bertholdt reassures soothingly, patting the spot by him, “You can sit next to me, if you’d like.”

The short haired woman glued to your side reacts immediately, “No, the girl needs a drink,” Annie shoots her a knowing look, which she nods to in response. You’re practically ragdolled to the kitchen bar, as the conversation starts up once more. Once at the marble countertop, the large woman releases you in favour of pouring you a cup of spiked punch, “This is very good. Made it myself.” 

You give her a bright smile, accepting the red solo cup, “Cool! I’m sure it’s delicious!” Bringing the cup to your (lipstick/chapstick/lipgloss) coated lips, you take a small sip. A burst of fruity goodness explodes on your tastebuds, making your eyes widen in surprise. You can’t taste a drop of alcohol in it, “Wow! This is really good!” 

A proud grin overtakes her lips, as she nods her thanks, “Of course it is. I knew you were coming, after all,” You laugh in response, and take another sip of the red liquid. 

“I see! Well, you have a very nice home!” The tall woman leans against the counter, holding herself up with an arm that goes behind your form. 

“Thank you. It’s very spacious. I find myself lonely at times,” Her large, black eyes stare down at you, trying to send you a message through them alone. 

“Oh, well, have you tried getting a roommate? Maybe the flat won’t be so empty,” She nods at your words. 

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you be my roommate?” You laugh, thinking that she’s joking. Not bothering to look up, as you take another swig of your drink, you don’t see the somewhat hurt look on her face. 

“That would be something! Not only are we seatmates, but we’re also roommates,” You giggle some more, taking more sips of your delicious drink, “But, your flat is a lot nicer than mine. I may take up on your offer.”

Looking up, you see her grin at you approvingly, “Yes, that would be nice,” What you don’t know is that her lease is almost up, making it so she has paperwork she needs to fill out. Paperwork that would look great with your co-sign on it. 

-

Three drinks in, and you’re feeling a bit woozy. Typically, you’re not a lightweight, but it seems that you are tonight. 

Leaning your upper body onto Yelena’s strong form, you laugh hysterically at something Reiner says, “Oh my God, you’re hilarious-” You cut yourself off with a snort, causing the entire room to laugh at your cute giggling. 

The short haired woman you’re currently using as a pillow holds you tenderly, a pleased smile on her face. The stuff Annie gave her works very well. 

“Man, if you weren’t Yelena’s girl, I would’ve cuffed you a semester ago!” Reiner roars wholeheartedly, slapping the leather couch below him. 

In your cloudy mind, you barely understand the words he just said, “Haha, wha-?” 

Pushing your head into her breasts, Yelena shushes you, “My poor baby is such a lightweight,” She and the others chuckle at that understatement, “I think it’s time to turn in for the night.”

Her civil way of kicking everyone out was enough, as everyone trickles out of her luxurious flat. Once the last person leaves, Yelena stands to her feet, scooping you up in her buff arms. She goes to her lift, pressing the lock input, she types in the lock code, not allowing anyone in or out of her home. Your high mind can barely comprehend what’s going on around you. 

She hums an unknown tune, as she goes up her steps to her master bedroom. Kicking open the door, she flips on her bedroom light with her elbow, before shutting the door with her foot. Sauntering to her California King sized bed, she lays your drugged out form on her light grey coloured sheets. 

“-Lena, wha-” Your head lulls to the side as you giggle uncontrollably, “-Are- are we dating?” She hums in response, starting to pull down your skirt. 

“Yes, my Darling Girl,” She smooches your forehead, “We’ve been together since I moved here,” Pulling your skirt’s fabric down and off of your legs, she tosses it on the floor, exposing your pink panties. 

“Bu-but, I like Marco,” You weakly attempt to push her grabby hands away from you, “I-I wan’ Marco!” 

The feelings of disgust, envy, and fury overwhelm her all at once. How dare you! She’s always treated you so well, that spineless fucker doesn’t deserve anything from you! He especially doesn’t deserve your wonderful heart! 

She says nothing, grabbing your blouse, and chucking it off of you. Your breasts jiggle at her ministrations, your bra just barely containing your tits. Seeing your almost bare, perfect body makes her pussy tingle, but her anger outweighs her arousal. 

Settling on the bed, she grasps your boneless body, and pulls you over her knees. You’re still muttering and questioning the validity of your relationship, all whilst saying that horrible boy’s name, causing her to cup the fat of your ass and squeeze harshly. 

“Baby, you know better than to say those horrible things. I love you very much, and it hurts to hear you say that.” 

Your breasts, arms, and head rest over her left knee, as you try to look up at her stern face, “But-”

“No buts, you know what happens when you act like a brat,” She slaps your ass experimentally, earning a pained yelp. A small smirk covers her lips, and she hits your ass as hard as she can. 

“‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Your pleading is cute, so cute. 

“I know you didn’t, Princess. But I have to remind you of your place,” She slams her hand down once more, jolting your entire body. A shrill cry leaves your lips, as you try to move off of her lap, but seemingly can’t find the strength to do so. 

After five more smacks, the blonde pulls you onto her lap in a straddling position. One of her arms wraps around your top half, pushing your crying face into her neck. The other is wrapped around your waist, hand smoothing over your bruising ass, and playing with the hem of your panties. 

“Don’t cry, Princess. You know I had to set you straight,” She coos, “Your stupid, little brain is far too gone to understand at the moment, but you will once you sober up. So, for now, let your Daddy make you feel good.” 

You mutter nonsensical words in between your sobs, but the large woman isn’t put off. After she’s done with you, you’ll never think of that freckled fuck ever again. At least, you won’t unless you want him dead. 

Wrestling your pliant body to the mattress once more, she leaves you on the bed by yourself, before rolling onto the left side. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she pulls out a pair of handcuffs, a battery powered hitachi wand, duct tape, and a small bottle of lube. Setting them on the bed by your writhing form, she quickly makes her way back to you. 

“Shh, it’s alright, Princess. I’m right here,” Yelena reaches under you, fiddling with your bra’s hooks until it pops open, allowing her to slide your useless arms out of the garment. Tossing it aside, she sucks in a deep breath, enjoying the view of your plush chest. Experimentally, she pinches your right nipple, relishing the small moan you let out at the feeling. Gripping the handcuffs next to you, she feeds your dainty wrists through the opening, popping the pink, plush cuffs on tightly. Happy with the result, she continues her endeavour. 

Moving farther down your body, she leaves your socks on, loving how your thigh fat squishes up a bit. Grabbing the hem of your cute, pink panties, she pushes them off of you, exposing your pretty cunny. It separates from you with a small string of slick, filling Yel with a sense of satisfaction. You’re her perfect pain slut, aren’t you? 

Pushing on your pliant legs open, she smiles happily down at you, dark eyes blown wide open, “Awe, is your slutty pussy wet for me?” 

You shake your head rapidly, disorienting yourself more than before, “Nu-no! It’s not!” She clicks her tongue teasingly, her smile growing wider than before. 

“Don’t lie to me, Princess. Now I have to punish you once more,” Forcing your legs open, she holds them down with her own, straddling your waist. Her large form easily overpowers you, as she grabs the blue hitachi wand, and flips it on to the highest setting. Pushing it against your clit with a swift motion, your entire body jolts at the sudden stimulation. A loud whine leaves your lips, as you try to buck it off of your sensitive cunny. 

“Puh-please! Take it off! It’s too much!” Yelena snickers in delight, ignoring your pleading. Grabbing the duct tape from beside you, she rips off a few long strips, before smacking them onto your skin and the vibrator, effectively keeping it attached to you. 

Your moans and whimpers continue to grow louder and louder, as you try your best not to cum. You bite your lips in the hopes of stifling yourself, but it does little to help. If anything, it just spurs the large woman on. 

“Go on, cum for me, cum for Daddy,” You shake your head, a few keens falling from your mouth, as she watches in awe at the way your cunny leaks and clenches around nothing. 

Your toes curl in ecstasy as you cum, a loud whine escaping you. A gush of your orgasm flows from you, wetting the blonde woman and the mattress below. Two long, slender fingers prod at your slick pussy, forcing themselves inside your sensitive walls. 

“Good Girl, You’re so Good for me,” They Start to move in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot repeatedly with how long her fingers are.  

“Too much! Too much!” You cry, as she quickly brings you over the edge once more. 

More slick sprays from your cunny, as overstimulation begins to set in. Yelena captures your lips with hers, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. The kiss is wet and hot, as she grips at your plush chest. 

“No, no it’s not, Baby. It’s not enough,” Fumbling with her fly, she releases the strap she’s been wearing all night. In all honesty, she’s surprised that you hadn’t noticed the bulge or felt it underneath your ass earlier. It’s a good ten inches in length, and around 5.5 inches of girth. 

It is pretty intimidating for most, but due to your fucked out stupor, it should feel amazing for you. Grabbing the lube, she squeezes a small amount onto the silicone cock, smoothing it over the toy in sync with her fingers pumping inside of you. 

Deeming the toy and your cunny ready, she makes the next move. Sliding off of your numb legs, she stands to her feet, towering over you in all of her glory. Hefting you up and off of the mattress, she quickly punched your back against her pristine, white wall. Forcing your arms around the back of her head, she continues to kiss your drooly mouth vigorously. 

Wrapping your legs around her slender waist, her large leg muscles and arms work to hold you up. Guiding your dripping cunny over the tip of her strap, she slowly sinks you onto it. 

A keen of both surprise and pleasure rips out of your throat, as you grip onto her short, blonde locks. Giggling, she bucks her hips into yours sharply, causing you to orgasm on the spot. The vibrator and her strap on feels like heaven. 

Throwing your head back in bliss, you feel your arousal drip onto her dress pants, creating even more wet spots than before. Separating from your lips, she grins down at you. 

“Look at you, dirty Girl,” She spanks your ass harshly with one hand, as she continues a hardcore pace. The tip of the silicone cock batters against your cervix, causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain, “You love it when Daddy ruins your pussy, don’t you?” 

Too fucked out to think properly, you nod your head vigorously, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I love Daddy’s cock!” She kisses your cheek tenderly, not stopping her thrusts for even a moment. Moving her lips down your vulnerable neck, she starts to suck the tender skin, leaving dark love marks on your pretty skin. 

“Mmm, good Princess! Since you’re such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat. Do you want a treat? Does your dumb little mind even understand what I’m saying?” You nod once again, eyes teary and pleading. 

“Yes! Yes! I want a treat, please, Daddy!” Smirking against your skin, she reaches into her pocket from around your thigh. 

“Since you asked so nicely-“ She presses the injector lever, shooting a large load of fake cum into your gummy, needy pussy. You cum almost immediately, this clearly being the biggest orgasm of the night, as you practically convulse and squirt a geyser of cum all over the place, “I think you deserve Daddy’s cum inside you.” 

You practically sob at the overstimulation and the feeling of being so full, “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!” You kiss her of your own volition, surprising the large woman. Her heart warms, loving how you’ve become so submissive. 

Cradling you’re form to her muscular body, she saunters back towards the bed, pushing any other objects off and into the night side table. 

Placing you on the now dry sheets, she quickly flicks off the vibrator still taped to your clit, before placing it on the table beside her. Plucking off the duct tape, she then takes off your handcuffs, effectively freeing you. Instead of moving away from the woman, you lay there tiredly, no longer processing the situation. 

Sighing in content, Yelena grabs a hand towel from the drawer she keeps her sex toys in, and wrestles it under your hips. Smiling, she removes the strap from inside of you, enjoying the sight of the fake cum flooding out of you. 

Laying next to you, she pulls your head into her chest, curling around you as if she were a safety blanket. 

“You did well, Princess,” You don’t say anything, snuggling into her warmth, “Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll announce our official status, okay?” 

An slurred ‘Okie’ is heard, before you slip into unconsciousness. Cupping your face in appreciation, her dark eyes glance in the direction of a small green light coming from her video camera. 

Now you’ll have to date her; after all, you wouldn’t want your sex tape to get out, would you? 

#yelena #yelena x reader #yandere yelena #yandere aot #yelena brainrot #yelena aot #aot x reader #yelena thirst #yelena smut #yelena supremacy #yandere aot x reader

[yanderecrazysie]

If you don’t mind could I please request the yandere alphabet with Ushijima 🥺? Thank you 💜💜

OOOH Wonder Boy Ushiwaka! I swear I'm the worst with writing him- he's like simple and complicated at the same time-

Thank you so much for requesting!!! I'll do my very best!

Ushijima Wakatoshi (Haikyuu) -The Yandere Alphabet

🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

Warnings: yandere themes,

A is for Affection: How do they show their affection for their darling? How often do they show it?

💖 Ushijima isn't the most affectionate type to be 100% honest. It's not that he won't ever show you affection, it's just that he doesn't quite know HOW to.

💖 Physical affection will pretty much have to be something you directly ask for if you want it. He won't pick up on hints well and he's not the type to randomly want to cuddle.

💖 He can be kinda protective/possessive though, so he may wrap you into an embrace or hold you close. That's not so much out of affection though-

💖 Basically: Ushijima's way of showing affection is his ever-constant presence, over-protectiveness, and gentle way of treating you.

B is for Blood: How messy are they willing to get for their darling? Why?

🔪 I don't think Ushijima sees the need to kill for you. It's not that he doesn't want to kill- I honestly don't think it'd bother him if he had to- it's that he doesn't see any real threats to you.

🔪 This guy looks terrifying and he wants to be around you 24/7. Do you really think anyone's going to try something on you with that giant, intimidating man hovering behind you?

🔪 If someone was stupid/drunk enough to try something, Ushijima would just casually toss him across the street. If that guy was strong/big too, you better believe Ushijima will fight as hard as it takes to get the guy to back down/become unconscious.

🔪 If someone tried something on you while he wasn't there, it just means he has to work harder to protect you. Which means being around you even more. Always...

C is for Care or Cruelty: How would they treat their darling when they kidnap them? Would they mock them?

💔 Ushijima wouldn't mock you in the slightest. In fact, he'd be genuinely confused if you tried to run away or were upset that he kidnapped you. He seriously just won't understand why you're scared.

💔 He'll take good care of you though. Honestly, he'll probably baby you a little. He'll want to be the one to feed you, he'll check in on you every 5 minutes, he'll make sure you're in his line of sight at all times...

D is for Delusion: How delusional are they when it comes to their darling? Do they believe their darling loves them?

💭 It's difficult to say with Ushijima. He isn't exactly good with social skills and he's a little awkward, to put it lightly. So, he does kind of expect you to love him back and will think you're confused if you say you don't.

💭 But I don't know if that's considered delusion because that's just Ushijima being Ushijima. Yeah, he thinks you love him. No, it's not any different than him being 100% sure he's going to win a volleyball match.

E is for Expose: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? How much time will it take to trust them?

💧 Uh... Ushijima will flat-out tell you what he's thinking and if you say "bear his heart" he'll think that you're trying to skin him down to his organs or something. He's kinda blunt, basically.

💧 Trust though? I mean, Ushijima trusts you in a way, but in a way, he doesn't. He doesn't trust that you can take care of yourself but he trusts you to be honest.

💧 Like I said, he's complicated. Best way I can explain it is: he trusts you completely but he kind of underestimates your abilities. He has no doubts in his mind that you won't try to run away but he'll also lock up all the exits tight because he worries that you'll get outside and get hurt. Contradictory, I know.

F is for Fight: How would they react if their darling fought back?

👊 Picture a confused puppy that you just pushed off your lap. Like this boy has literally no clue why on earth you're fighting back and he's going to stare at you like you've got a second head growing out of your shoulder.

👊 Ushijima's secretly wondering if you've caught some sort of illness that's making you delirious as he calmly picks you up and tucks you into bed. Your flailing fists and clawing nails are nothing compared to this hulk of a man carrying you away.

G is for Guilt: What would it take for them to feel guilty about their actions? Or do they feel guilty from the start?

😔 Ushijima truly, honestly doesn't see the wrong in what he's doing. Like, I don't think he can comprehend that he's doing something very bad. He's doing what's best for you! That's good, right?

H is for Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

🔥 Ushijima would NEVER hurt you and he doesn't really get angry either. I guess the worst experience would be the struggle of trying to gain freedom or even get the point across that you aren't happy about something. It's like talking to a brick wall. A very confused brick wall.

I is for Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

👩‍❤️‍👨 I don't think Ushijima's really thought too far ahead, to be honest. He loves you and that's all that matters to him. As long as you don't leave (which he's positive you won't) life is happy.

👩‍❤️‍👨 He'd probably want kids one day. Only one or two, but he'd be fine if you had more. He'd take good care of them and teach them to act just like him...

J is for Jealousy: How easily do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

💢 Ushijima doesn't get the concept of jealousy. Worrying about your safety when another guy talks to you? Sure, he does that. But jealous about it? Not really.

K is for Kidnap: How would they go about kidnapping their darling? How much do they plan it out?

🔒 You're just walking home and suddenly you're waking up in a bedroom that you don't recognize. Don't worry, you're not alone! Ushijima's sitting in a chair next to the bed, making sure you wake up.

🔒 Ushijima would plan just far enough to buy all the things you'd need to be "happy" with him. Medication, hygiene products- nothing will go unaccounted for. This man will have a shopping list longer than a roll of toilet paper dedicated to you.

L is for Love Letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

💌 I think he'd try to walk right up to you and he'd be very disappointed that you're kind of nervous around him. He can't really blame you, considering he looks kinda scary- from his stature to his expression.

💌 Okay, so trying to talk to you didn't work either. Ushijima's a little socially awkward. But that's fine! He'll just bring you back to his place and keep you there until you understand that he loves you. Flawless plan, right?

M is for Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they acted before?

🎭 Other than being a little softer and gentler towards you, Ushijima doesn't change in the least. Like, I'm not sure anyone would notice "odd behavior" because he doesn't find it strange or out of the ordinary himself. He's still the stoic guy we all know him as.

N is for Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

🚓 Ushijima really wouldn't punish you. If you're freaking out, he'll just calmly tuck you into bed and check your temperature because, surely, you're ill if you're acting like that.

🚓 In Ushijima's eyes, you can do no wrong. So, you're honestly safe around this giant of a man. Congrats?

O is for Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? What rights can be earned with time and trust?

📜 You may be able to wander around his house, but you aren't leaving it. But you're kind of... babied. Anything remotely sharp will be tucked away and locked up, you'll have a set bedtime, and you'll probably feel like a kid again.

P is for Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

🕊️ Since Ushijima doesn't think you're doing anything wrong and, when you fight back, he thinks that you're having a hard time or you're sick or something, he'll be extremely patient. He could never get frustrated with you!

Q is for Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

🏃‍♀️ If you died, Ushijima would probably just turn to volleyball x100. He wouldn't want to think about it and would just try to distract himself from it all.

🏃‍♀️ If you escaped, Ushijima would just keep searching until he found you. You poor thing, you must be so scared and lonely out there, without him to protect you. Hold on, he'll find you and bring you back home again.

R is for Rage: How do they act when angry? How do they calm down?

👿 He doesn't get angry at you. I'm serious. He rarely gets angry in general but he could NEVER get angry at you.

S is for Soulmate: What made them fall in love with their darling? How did they first meet? When did they realize they loved their darling?

💍 You showed up at one of his volleyball games and he immediately noticed you. He's not sure what drew him to you, only that you were the most beautiful thing in the world to him. It really was love at first sight for him.

T is for Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

😭 Ushijima would be so confused. Why are you crying? Are you injured? Where are you? Oh, are you trying to play hide and seek?

😭 You're honestly digging your own grave because you're making him concerned and his protective instinct levels are off the charts. He's not going to give you time alone to cool down because he's pretty sure you need him by your side- even though he's the thing that's scaring you.

U is for Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

👌 Like I've said, Ushijima honestly doesn't understand your reservations about being kidnapped and forced into a relationship with him. You have no chance of reasoning with him- you'll have more luck trying to convince the walls of your new home.

V is for Visit: Would they allow anyone else to visit their darling? Do they trust their darling to talk to their loved ones (in person, on the phone, etc.) or not at all?

🧳 Ushijima doesn't trust anyone with your safety. No one can come over to visit you under any circumstances. It's not so much "hiding the evidence" as it is "protecting you from his insane buddies".

W is for Weakness: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

❌ I think some affection and some tactful persuasion is your best chance. Especially the persuasion.

❌ "Wakatoshi, did you know that direct sunlight is better for you? Not just through the windows, I mean. I miss the fresh air too, you know..."

X is for Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

🛐 Ushijima doesn't worship you, but he prioritizes your safety over everything in his life, even volleyball. He doesn't care so much about trying to win you over- he sees no need to wait for you to realize what he already knows.

Y is for Yearning: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

😍 When Ushijima kidnaps you, you're going to be VERY taken aback. You won't even know him personally- you're lucky if you even know his name. And even that's likely just by word-of-mouth, considering he's pretty famous.

😍 This man saw you and knew he had to have you. He doesn't wait long, trust me.

Z is for Zero Tolerance: What is the thing that always makes them snap? What things will they not allow their darling to do under any circumstances?

0️⃣ I mean, he won't let you leave. But like, even if you try to escape, he's just going to assume you're confused about where the bathroom is located or something. You cannot make this man mad.

0️⃣ Ushijima probably would be very hurt if you called him names. Even if he chalked it up to you being sick or confused or something, it still stings worse than any volleyball injury. His expression won't even change though...

🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

HOLY CRAP THAT TOOK A WHILE-

I really hope you enjoy! Ushiwaka's so hard to write for, in my opinion! The wiki's description of his personality makes me laugh so hard-

#yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #yandere alphabet #haikyuu!!

[sprinklesandshatters]

A Review on NCT 127′s 3rd Album <Sticker>

So NCT 127 just came back with their 3rd Full Album <Sticker> and this is my first 127 comeback since I became a fan last year! Neozone is such a special album for me as it was their first album that I explored entirely. I've known NCT as the group who never fails any expectations so I've kept mine up although I know they'll exceed it anyway. And guess what, they did! I absolutely love their new album hence this review~

This isn't a technical music review—as I am not a musician myself—but rather a listener's honest takes, goofy notes, and interpretation on each of the tracks in the album. I admit I've also struggled to build my own opinions on some of the tracks until I listened to them over and over again.

I have also heard there are mixed opinions on the title track <Sticker> and a lot says it's another acquired taste. But I think it's not just that, as it can be a grower, just like how most of NCT's songs were for me. Maybe after a few listens and a right passage of time, it will grow on those people. The bottom line here is, I like it a lot! 😛

So I listed down the songs according to their respective track numbers and followed each with a bulleted list of my opinions and interpretations.

(Viewer/reader discretion: before you continue, minors, do not interact as there are few 18+ contents under the cut. Thank you.)

1. Sticker

THEY DIDN'T JUST PUNCH A NEW NOTCH ON THE BELT LIKE THAT

THIS SONG SLAPS, LITERALLY SLAPS… AND WHIPS 

The recorder at the intro boyyyy I thought something was wrong but then I remember it’s NCT lmao

It already stuck in my head from my first listen from the Instagram audio.

With Taeyong opening the verse with his divine rapping, I knew I'm in for a new ride.

STICK-UH STICK-UGH STICK-UGHGHGH

To those complaining it sounding like noise music, imagine it sounding generic. I don't think it would fit as the title track. Not a b-track or in their repertoire, even. They are called NCT because they define the NEO in the music culture and music technology!

It honestly was an unorthodox, just like all of their title tracks, which I’m inherently here for.

Literally, no one does it like them!

The growls and the vocal flexes and adlibs! (You can tell it has Yoo Youngjin's brand.)

The crisp metronome sound that’s consistently ticking except for the pre-chorus and the dance break adds depth to the soundscape. I love how it’s used instead of the usual snaps.

The production quality blew my mind. Like how can someone think those melodies would sound so exquisite? CAN I CALL THEM GENIUS?

The piano at the back, oh my God—Yes! It adds this mystifying element to the song.

I'm not sure if it's a midi violin at the pre-chorus, but it added thrill to the song. It was a great transition from the bass line in the verses to the combination of the flawless harmony with the same instrumental.

"You treat me like a boy, like a grown-up child chasing a dream" JUNGWOO BABY NO MORE HUH

Taeil, Doyoung, and Haechan—the bridge vocal trinity!

But why the heck are they cowboys? I dig the concept, but why? LMAO

BTW GUNSLINGER MARK I’M ON MY KNEES YEEHAW

This is easily one of my favorite tracks from NCT 127's entire discography 💚

2. Lemonade

(⌐■_■)

Jaehyun starting off this song with his deep voice eee

The song opens to a verse oozing with chill confidence. They're like, yeah you're lurking because we’re cool.

This is such a huge slap to their haters. NCT's not chillin' like a villain, nah they're the main characters!

Well maybe they’re villains, but still ya not cooler than them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Funny enough how they could have just referred haters as simply lemons whose sour/bitter to the taste, but 127 squad's success is sweeter than all the haters' spiteful remarks so yeah, SIPPY SIPPY LEMONADE 🧃

"WOOF"

I might have just barked too wOW

Yuta’s vocals hooooO his voice just sounds so glamorous mhmm

Also Mark referencing their previous title tracks such as: Firetruck, Cherry Bomb, and Regular (it's Irregular in the lyrics) in his rap part 👌💅

I just love Mark's energy when he raps. HE RESOLUTELY BITES AND STRAIGHT UP EATS EVERY TIME HE DOES.

3. Breakfast

Now breakfast time, oh jeez!

AAAHAHFU—

Summer 127's bestie!

If Summer 127 talks about dancing all night long, Breakfast is the morning after.

You know what it is.

"Even if I gulp and drink you, it's not enough for me." oho Taeyong no you ha—STOP

Sexual innuendos aside, isn't it just sweet if someone tells you they'd want to have breakfast with you every day?  Okay maybe I'm melting at the thought 😩🙈💞

And I can see myself dancing to this song as I make breakfast (in the afternoon or at midnight bc I’m crazy)

This was an okay b-track for me at the first skim on the album, but boy it grew on me wildly.

Honestly one of my favorite tracks in this album.

4. Focus

Did I just invade a private call? LMAO

The analog voice filters make it like so.

Dude, this feels intimate in the level of eavesdropping a phone call between seasoned lovers. Then you realize you hear them whispering their kinks over the line and you're ooh, that's sexy! hfgklhfhf

My first listen to this, I almost went feral because,

"I can't wait to eat you…" when it's actually "I can't wait 'til we chill…" aahaha

"Baby call me when you want me." OKAY!

This sounds relaxing and chill. I'd love to play this on a late night drive or just before bed time along with Fly Away With Me, Sun & Moon, My Youth, and Long Flight.

Belongs to ‘make out session’ playlist  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

That was lowkey a playlist recommendation, huh?

I'd be kidding if I don't say I could touch myself while listening to this song AHAHAFGHFJFJ

I didn't know this would grow on me this much lol I love love LOVE THIS!

5. The Rainy Night

Ooh, the holy melancholy!

Piano at the intro—I knew I'd cry to this.

This song isn't just about break-up, but the heartbreak after one.

The yearning; the remnant pieces from the shattering of what was once there.

I think I crumbled from this one.

This hit so hard I felt like I fit in the shoes with the lyrics throughout the entire song.

What’s fascinating is I clearly forgot the title when I mentally said this sounds like a sad rainy day song from the first listen.

Something I’d turn up when it suddenly rains, just because I want to feel the blues.

Taeil and Haechan singing in lower register? I wanna cry :( they’re just one of the best vocalists in K-music industry right now.

Could have been also nice if they added Yuta to the vocals.

"My selfish heart who waits for you to come back," OKAY WHO HURT THEM?

And the fact that they sang it so good that it translated every ounce of the emotions well even before I looked up for English translations is the reason why I love this song too.

6. Far

Hmm… What the hell?! Do I like this? Wait...

Alright!

The jumpy vibe from the first verse to the pre-chorus set the mood for this song. It sounds merry and heavy. It was honestly too much to take until I’ve reached the chorus part.

Honestly, I think this song could fit NCT Dream better, as it gives off a vibe similar to Hello Future's b-tracks. If some credible source say this could have made HF’s track list, I might believe you too fast.

Also Dream’s Deja Vu where they go na nananananana na na na~

Playful yet confident! That’s what I mean!

As usual, the vocals are insane! Vocal flex from left to right!

I swear Jungwoo sounded a bit like Taemin at the second verse that I had to replay it hahaha

I love hearing Johnny as a vocalist! SM, how many signs do you need until you utilize his vocal talent???

Taeil's part where he sings, "go nuts, go nuts, 'til we go bust, go bust" IDEK BUT I SNORTED A LAUGH AT FIRST LISTEN HFCAHKFHK

Not my favorite, but still great though!

But wait it’s actually stuck in my head???

7. Bring The Noize

Yes, they never beat those noise music allegations

HERE'S SOME NOIZE, BITCHES

I love me some noisy percussions. AND THE BASS YO

This screams so much confidence!

The build up from the pre-chorus to the chorus—FIRE!

This song reminds me a lot of SuperM's Super Car, especially with the engine roar samples and the battle cry-like singing at the chorus.

JAEHYUN RAPPING? You mean Jaehyun the visual, the vocalist, the actor, the model, the funny dude, aka my everything?! (markie bb look pls look away for a moment)

THEY DELIVERED IT STRAIGHT FROM NEOCITY THAT'S SOME NCT MUSIC RIGHT THERE NO ONE DOES IT LIKE THEM

When I said I'd play Focus on a late night drive, and if I add this in the playlist, VROOM VROOM SPEED LIMIT WHAT

OUTTA MY WAY

“We got no shame” ouh TAEYONG’S FLOW IS JUST VERY HIM AND HE’S IN A LEAGUE OF HIS OWN

You know what's so clever about this song? It's how it ended with Mark's final rap without any instrumental, leaving you  standing there with a doppler effect-like post experience.

A super car on a super speed just whooshed past you and you look its way as it zips through the road. It's gone in an instant but you're floored dumbfounded at a sidewalk. That's how I describe this song.

8. Magic Carpet Ride

This song… Wow. Oh gosh it's so beautiful.

Their harmony in the chorus—it makes me want to kiss someone so passionately that I'd cry.

This makes me want to feel love that transcends the universe. Literally, just please take me on a magic carpet ride :(

The background harmonies too oh my goodness—HEAVENLY.

Jaehyun's voice is so warm and soulful it fits perfectly with songs of this genre.

Okay alright Doyoung Grande!

And Taeil makes me feel like I'm listening to old school R&B.

The first time I heard this from the track video, I can't stop replaying because it's just that great.

This makes me want to love. I think that sums it up.

9. Road Trip

This is such a soothing song for me, especially how I easily become nostalgic thinking about the road trips I've had.

Whenever I listen to this, my brain immediately conjures up thoughts of my ideal getaways. Gazing at the sky through the car window, stirring up from a nap in the middle of the ride, and   eventually reaching your destination.

Oh, to travel around anywhere... (curse you covid-19)

Okay that's it. I'M PACKING UP.

But where do I go—

I could also imagine Mark playing this on the guitar and the other members sing along together, something like that.

Just Wholesome™ vibes.

I love how it evokes such a nice emotion within me effortlessly.

This isn't my favorite, but I still love this.

10. Dreamer

Eyyyy such a refreshing song!

This song is so bright it makes me want to dance. I play this first in the shower!

It reminds me so much of Elevator (from Neozone)

The horns make it more lively I think!

Yuta and Jungwoo's voice suits lively songs like this.

The background vocal in low register in Taeyong's part in the first verse is so good ahhfhf

Taeil, the R&B vocal king you are...

There's this part where Doyoung and Johnny harmonized, that at first listen they seemed to clash, but it sounded actually fine after a few listens. Maybe it's just that I've never heard them do it before.

And I think it's Doyoung's laugh at the end of the bridge? Oh my goodness I really love this too!

11. Promise You

MY FIRST LOVE AND MOST FAVORITE SONG IN THE ALBUM!!!

The first time I heard this from their NCIT Sharehouse Sitcom, I fell in love with the song already.

It sounds like something you'd feel from a warm, welcoming hug.

The lyrics are so beautiful and endearing. It's definitely a be-there-for-you type of song that will touch your heart.

It definitely sounds like a promise.

A song about platonic intimacy.

This really fits to be the closing song of the album. It's like the end of it but holds a promise that says “see you soon.”

Because they cherish their fans like that.

It's also like I've watched a movie with a happy ending, where the camera pans up to the clear sky and this song starts playing.

Speaking of ending, I would love to hear them sing this as an encore stage in their concert. You know, that moment just before the stage lights die down at the end of the concert where they send final blows of flying kisses to NCTzens. Then you come home smiling and crying.

This wasn't supposed to be this long since I originally planned to write this with just simple phrases and emojis but I got too engrossed lol. I also meant to include my own ratings but I figured it’s pointless since I can’t really decide about them hahaha

I really enjoyed the whole album and I love how they're progressively defining what NEO means by breaking through standards. It's not NCT music if it doesn't make you say "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?" But then you realize it’s stuck in your head and you’re enjoying it already.

✨ OVERALL RATING: 127/10 💚

if you’ve reached until here, thank you for letting me share you a braincell or two 💞

#this was too long oh goodness #idek if some of you will actually take interest to read all these blabbers but yeah #but it was fun listing these down hahaha #nct 127 #nct #sticker #sticker.talks #taeil #johnny #taeyong #yuta #doyoung #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jungwoo #mark #mark lee #haechan #nct fluff #nct smut #nct reviews #long post

[chanluster]

non ducor duco | {m}

oneshot | historical! au | gang! au | 15.2k words 

“The most notorious gang leader in Victorian London can gouge out the eyes of men, steal from the corrupted rich, and terrify an entire city, but cannot figure out a few complicated feelings with you.”

s u m m a r y >> the leader of the sons of seoul, the wanted criminal mastermind, christopher bang, has the courage to commit any deed save for confronting you, his most trusted accomplice, about his feelings. however, when opportunity arises, in the shape of an invitation to a grand seasonal ball, to take down his fated enemy, he takes you to the heart of a lavish estate, both of you unaware of actions that occur inside, and after the mission.

w a r n i n g s >> gonna be using chris instead of chan cause it’s set in 1860s london, chan is a dom of course, jisung and changbin are dumb and dumber, are also massive cockblockers, some cliché scenes cause i’m a sucker for them, sexual! tension!, gore, foul language, making out, dirty talk, aggressiveness, semi-public fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!), oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, chan has a thing for being called his korean name, whack spelling for ‘cum’ as ‘come’ cause technically that word didn’t exist in 1860s, there is a plot so there will be build up

a / n > > so i went way over the 10k originally planned lmfaoooo but i hope y’all enjoy this oneshot! i worked my ass off on it and hopefully y’all can appreciate gang leader chan in 1860s london cause honestly i’m a 100% whore for that concept

back to masterlist

IT WAS A UNIVERSAL LAW THAT ONE MUST NEVER FUCK WITH CHRISTOPHER BANG. EVER.

Whatever charge you may have against him, it must be withdrawn. Whatever he had done to you — robbed you, murdered your son, destroyed your entire existence — it did not matter. There were always limits, and trying to challenge this specific criminal would only result in your undoing.

It seemed the target, cornered before you and the very man himself, did not fully understand this order.

Chris Bang, in all his midnight suited glory, took a step towards the cowering man, the ends of his longcoat trailing him in the air. His gloved hands locked behind his back, a grave curve of his lips as he addressed his next victim. “Mr. Shaw, we know you have the documents.”

This said Mr Shaw hastily shook his head, raising his hands in immediate surrender. “Please, Mr. Bang,” he whimpered. “I have no inkling of what you speak of!”

“Don’t you dare lie!” You interjected, sliding out your knife, pointing it towards him. “We received reports of you. Don’t you dare forget the monthly checks we’ve sent for its safekeeping!”

“I was taking care of it, Miss!” He backed further, until the wall of his office stopped his escape. “They came to the office though.”

“Who did?!” You demanded, but the way Chris’s hand fisted in irritancy answered your question.

The Mayor had taken their shares. Once again, the tyrant had robbed them off their fortune. 

“Mr. Shaw,” the man beside you started. The raw, dark matter in his voice had the owner’s eyes widening in pure fear. “Who was it specifically?”

“A really large man, about seven foot for sure…God, he had cuts all over his face, slight stubble,” he answered, knees slightly shaking. “Please, Mr. Bang, I have a family, children who have not grown—”

“Why is it that whenever man is at his weakest he mentions his loved ones?” A few stray locks escaped from Chris’ raked hair, caressing the ragged scar from his brow down to his cheek. “Why do you think that I’ll suddenly take pity because you have others who will mourn your existence?”

These questions had the man collapsing, leaning completely against the wall for support. You stole a glance at Chris, wondering if he was now capable of extracting the very souls from men. “Do not keep toying with me, Shaw,” he warned, leaning in slightly. “I know you have information.”

A soft, helpless whine escaped from the owner of the building. “Then-they'll kill me,” he mumbled, looking up at the criminal with desperation. It was a shame that never worked on a man with no sympathy.

“I can kill you too,” Chris countered, and in a flash a sleek, pocket knife appeared in his gloved hand, and hovered it right under Shaw’s chin. “So how about you tell me what you know, and I can prolong your imminent end, hmm? Does that seem fair enough?”

You almost felt sorry for the man. “H-his men…” tears formed in his eyes. “His men kept calling him Carter.”

“Brilliant,” you muttered. ‘Scar’ Carter, the Mayor’s link to the crime world, the dirty dealings of London. Carter, the lapdog of the socialites. The most irritating, disgusting son of a bitch you had ever encountered.

“I see.” The knife stayed, caressing the manager’s skin. “Now I know they’re to sell the documents. The bastard is greedy.

“Question is, Shaw, where is the transaction going to take place?”

Dear God, the man looked as if he was about to piss his trousers. “The ball.” He tried to gulp, but felt the curve of the blade. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a masquerade ball in a few days, and Carter already had a client. They’re going to do the dealing there, I swear on my children!”

A harsh scoff emitted from the criminal. “You better hope for the sake of your sons that you aren’t lying.” 

“Did you get the invitations?” You asked, eyes darting around the dirtied room, the messy desks and chairs lopsided from your searching. 

“Yes, yes!” He pointed to a set of drawers. “There are two in there!”

You walked towards the destination, opening the drawers and sure enough, finding the gold-edged enveloped, addressed to Shaw and his wife. “Are your names inside too?”

“No, just the envelope, but that is not important! I promise!”

You pocketed the invitations inside your coat pocket, joining your leader’s side again. Chris, after a minute of heart-wrenching silence, stood up, freeing Shaw’s neck from the knife, sliding it within his belt.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” His eyes were still upon the man when he said, “Let us return.”

The both of you were ready to leave when you heard Shaw’s sudden protests.

“The Sons of Seoul, everybody!” He declared, almost hysterically. “Coming in, fucking everything up, and leaving as if nothing had ever happened!”

Chris paused in his tracks, a quiet stillness passing over his whole figure. 

“What are you going to do now, Mr. Bang?” He hissed, slowly sliding up. “Are you going to infiltrate the biggest ball of the season? Create a bloodbath on the dance floor? It’s what you love to do so ardently, no?”

You heard the harsh spit smack on the office floor. “Stop meddling with the business of the British socialites. Go back to the gutter you crawled out of.” The next words overflowed with hatred. “Go back to where you really came from, you slit-eyed prick.”

Your eyes flashed in shock, swerving around to see the raging expression on Shaw’s beady little face. Fisting your hands, you were ready to knock him out when you felt the man beside you move.

Chris whirled around, eyes promising a horrifying future as he pounced upon the manager.

A yelp was heard as Chris’ fingers dug at the corner of Shaw's eyes, and relished the cries of terror as with a roar of his own, he squeezed with his thumb and forefinger, swelling the balls of vision from their sockets. With a loud pop! the two eyes tore from their origins, gooey residue trailing down his face as Christopher Bang palmed the two organs in his hands.

He observed his victim bellowing in pain as he fell to his knees, hands covering his bloodied sockets. A ghostly smirk accompanied his lips. "Better slit-eyes than none at all."

You had to suppress the severe shivers that threatened to break your stance. 

Shaw broke the universal law. His undoing was inevitable.

He flung the eyes upon the owner, and turned on his heel, eerily cool as he walked out of the office, blood and goo still on his black gloves. Not a hair ruffled upon his pretty head. 

You spared a look at the victim, crying out in infinite pain, hands on his sockets still. “Do not fuck with Christopher Bang,” was all you said, before following the devil out of the building.

The afternoon London heat hit you as you exited the offices, Chris waiting as he examined the filthy streets surrounding you. People of all classes strolled by, beggars on the street asking for two-pence, children selling newspapers down the corners, and carriages riding away on the wide roads. The man still did not clean his gloves from the mess, and you pointed this out as you arrived at his side.

“It does not bother me,” he waved you off, but you brought out your leather skin.

“Bring your hands out,” you ordered. 

Chris scowled. “I said I’m alright,___.” He began walking forwards, towards your humble abode, not far away from your starting point. “Besides, whoever strolls past us, they’ll second guess their evil intentions against us.” You glanced over the strange looking fellows, scattered across the roads. “Shows I am not afraid to get my hands dirty.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “Dirty pig.”

You felt daggers glaring into you. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” you said, turning a corner, already catching sight of the docks. “I expect this behaviour from Jisung. Perhaps even Changbin, but not from you.”

“Enough with this,” the man ordered, irritancy clear in his voice. Grumbling, you walked beside him in silence, the Thames entering your vision. You wished it would have radiated a rich, clear blue body of water, but from the stench which even reached your nose, it would be impossible. The river, a dump for the sewers, the rubbish disposed daily, was a toxic mass of water, and the cause of thousands dying from drinking its contents. When you first joined the Sons you nearly drank from the river, being saved only by Chris’ rough hand slapping the cup away. You remembered you received a harsh scolding from him that day, immediately providing you with clean water after to quench your thirst. 

A small smile curved onto your lips at the memory.

“Hand it over.”

You perked your head up to see his filthy, gloved hands out. “What is it?” You asked. 

“The water.”An irritated sigh escaped him. “I’ll clean the bloody gloves.” 

Your smile grew as you handed him the leather skin. “But only because I don’t ever want to be associated with Jisung and Changbin,” he added, and you only laughed, watching the man rub the mess off his attire as you both arrived at the docks.

The first sounds heard were not of the boats bellowing at port, nor the waves lapping in underneath the stilts. 

No, all you were welcomed with was a string of curses, spat by Seo Changbin.

“You fucking bastard, how dare you—”

“Here we go again,” you caught Chris muttering, who quickened his pace, thundering to where the two of his sidemen fought, caught in a scrap.

Han Jisung’s whines were carried through the river air, burning into your eardrums. “Bin, no, I said I’m sorry—!”

When you caught up to Chris, he opened his mouth, exasperation clear in his voice. “Boys!” He exclaimed.

Immediately the fighting ceased. The boys addressed, Changbin atop Jisung, ready to throw the final punch, turned back to see his leader scowling. Jisung let out a yelp, throwing the former from him and scrambling to his feet. Changbin followed suit, a little more slowly after rubbing his side in agony.

“Why the fuck,” Chris started, pointer finger darting between his two men, “Are you both fighting again?”

Changbin, fixing his ruined locks with his hand, shot his best friend a glare. “He took my fucking scones again.” He groaned, much too loud. “God, I specifically stored them in a place where no one would find them, but this greedy pig still managed to snuff them out!”

Jisung, a slender and more comical figure, crossed his arms, raising his chin in stubbornness. “I did not see a bloody name on them! Tell me Bin,” he matched his opponent’s stare. “Did you write down your name with blood-red ink across the scones? Because I certainly did not see the words Seo Changbin scrawled on the surface!”

“Argh!” The elder of the two turned his raging gaze towards the leader, who was watching his subordinates with slight distaste. “Chris, permission to cut off his tongue for being the bane of my existence?!”

Chris only stepped past them, heading for the big wooden table situated near the gang’s warehouse. The sounds of ships sailing in the dirty waters thrummed to the port, shouting heard all around over new, imported goods. “Another time, Changbin,” he only said, bringing out a chair and sitting down, propping an ankle over a knee. “I have encountered enough organ slicing for the day.”

Jisung’s face twisted in awed curiosity, settling himself down beside Chris. “Without me?” he let out a disappointed whine, turning to you. “I trusted you, at least!”

“I was surprised myself, Ji,” you argued, raising a hand towards the aloof man as you sat opposite your friend. “I didn’t know Chris gouged out Shaw’s eyes until they were in his hand!”

“You truly are a selfish man,” Changbin complained, plopping himself on the last seat. “Alway keeping the fun for yourself and ____.”

You did not really know why your face flushed a little at his charge, but you made sure to whack Changbin in the gut, earning a pained groan from the boy.

Chris locked his hands upon the table. “Well, gentlemen, then it is time for you to join in on the entertainment.”

The two boys exchanged confused glances. On cue, you brought out the pair of invitations within your coat pocket, tossing them to the table. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a ball,” you explained, rolling your eyes at the boys tearing open the envelopes, yanking out the oblong, cartridge paper, details inked with a precise hand. “Since it does not have names, anyone can enter the estate.”

Jisung let out an excited yell, grabbing onto Changbin’s arm. “Binnie, we can actually have some fun!”

“Not so fast, boys,” Chris said, tightening his gloves. “The invitations are not yours.”

Changbin’s face immediately fell. “Are you fucking kidding me—”

The elder held out a finger, silencing the complaints, but not the quiet grumbling of his members. “As I was saying,” he continued, hands interlocking once more, “____ and I will use the invitations to get inside, with the two of you as our bodyguards.”

“Marvellous!” Jisung exclaimed, sarcasm practically dripping on his words. “Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic!”

“Jisung,” Chris warned, “How about you clean the shit off the docks instead?”

“Chan,” you murmured, causing him to glance at you. His sour expression almost softened at the word, the name which only few have ever said to him. You pondered at the time the two boys, sat to your right, tried teasing him with this name, and nearly earned an ass-beating. You, on the other hand, rather liked the way the name sounded on your tongue. 

Perhaps, you wished dearly, he liked the way it sounded on your tongue too.

The man, after a pause, averted his eyes from you, focusing them on his comrades. “You both can still enjoy the festivities, but you have to keep a low profile, because while ____ and I are socialising and distracting the guests, you both need to find Carter.”

“Is he at the party too?” Changbin propped his elbows on the table. “Lord above, I’ve been wanting to kick his arse for a while.”

“So you both just frivol away, then?” Jisung whined. “I want to drink and dance!”

“And you both will,” Chris persisted. “We all will keep a lookout for Carter and his dealings, and if any of us find him first, you report to me. At my signal, you and Changbin will break through their trade. I will be behind you as long as I slip away without anyone discovering our motives.”

You look to your leader. “There’s another problem.”

The three all turned to you. “If we are to go to the most lavish ball of the season, we certainly need to dress for it.” Suddenly, you sounded like a little girl when you pointed out, “I do not have a gown to wear for the evening.”

An eyebrow raised upon Chan’s face, while Changbin and Jisung snickered, puckering their lips. “Aww, poor little ____ has no lace to woo the rich men!”

You made to slap the pair’s arms and narrowly missed, glaring. “As if you animals have any decent attire to wear for the ball! When was the last time you wore a proper tailcoat?”

That was enough for their teasing to cease, but Changbin was adamant. “Don’t throw me in with Jisung! He doesn't even bother to shower!”

“Oi, you bastard!”

The pair were ready to fight once more when Chris cleared his throat.

“You’re right,____.”

A glance at the man who said it. “I have only seen you in stealth gear and rags, the first time I met you.” He leaned back in his creaking chair. “Perhaps it is time to flower you up a little.”

Jisung and Changbin were about to chuckle once again when you shot them a dirty look.

“I will order evening attire tomorrow,” Chris decided. “They will arrive on the day of the ball, which is adequate enough timing. 

“Now,” he declared, standing. “Are we all aware of what we have to do?”

The two boys turned sheepishly to you, who sighed and addressed the leader. “You and I attend the ball with these two fools as our bodyguards—”

“Hey!”

“____!”

“We maintain a believable facade and enjoy ourselves while also looking out for Carter and the documents. Once we find out where he is, Changbin and Jisung take him away, and we slip out of the party unnoticed.”

Chris, after a pause, nodded, a ghost of a smile upon his lips. “Good girl.”

And just like that, he left the table, your eyes a little wide and heart a little raced. 

When Chris retreated into the warehouse, the two boys turned their malicious gazes towards you, smirking much too wide for your liking.

“Do not,” you snapped, cheeks burning deeper, earning a smattering of laughter from the bastards.

“Whatever you say, good girl,” Changbin simpered, Jisung repeating the damned endearment until you hastily stood from your chair.

You rewarded them both with your middle finger before storming back into another warehouse, Chris’ words still engraved in your mind.

Just as Christopher Bang had predicted, the new attire arrived on the day of the ball. 

More planning had been explained, more additions to the grand scheme of the evening which was mere hours away. The gang was ready, but you can never be perfectly anticipated for any ideas gone amiss.

You even taught Jisung and Changbin to dance, ranging from the Polka to the Viennese Waltz, which was popular amongst high society in the growing years of Queen Victoria’s reign. They were terrible at the start, both of them always falling on each other, but with hard effort they learned quickly, almost perfecting the art of leading your partner on the ballroom floor.

You had not bothered asking the other if he wished to learn. There was something about him which made you think that he could do anything. Not once had he ever doubted your theory.

It was as if there was nothing in the world he could not know like the back of his gloved hand.

Thoughts like these were what filled you with such awe for him. Such deep-rooted pride that you worked under this man. Those thoughts did, however, curve into darker corners — when his midnight-lined eyes and raven figure haunted you in restless nights. 

You aggressively shook your head, swinging your legs over the dock. Sitting upon the wood, you watched the sun descend slowly, the stark yellows and whites of the sky beginning to darken. Ships docked and stayed, men with their filthy language and filthier intentions flocked outside, and strange women with too-tight corsets and lips too rosey, smirking at the newcomers, carrying out their own ways of living.

Sometimes, you’d watch this run-down life move on in this exact same spot, thanking the lucky stars for not being one of the boys with the weights on their backs, nor the girls with the untied top corsets. You thanked the same man, who brought you out of that hell, giving you the chance to fight all this wrong embedded in London. 

You also thanked him, especially that day, for calling you that endearment. 

God. The man was a criminal, yet you were the one being imprisoned. 

“____!”

You turned, heaving to your feet when you see Jisung running to you, packages in his hands. “Your gown’s inside!” He exclaimed, gummy smile lighting up his entire face. 

Throwing you the box, you caught it just before it flew into the Thames, shooting the boy a wary glare. “Careful,” you said, looking over the silk ribbon tied into a perfect bow upon the middle. Although there were greater happinesses in life, small ones such as new dresses had you in near giggles.

“I’ve got my very own tailcoat now,” Jisung yelled, ripping open the packaging, about to whip out his new clothing when you waved him to stop.

“Do it inside, Ji, or you’ll ruin your outfit!”

“Trust him to fuck up a perfectly new suit before trying it on,” Changbin’s voice drawled through the dock, who held a box of his own. “Also, the boss is saying to quit dallying and start dressing!”

You obliged, holding onto your box tenderly as you entered a little building beside the main warehouse, consisting of everyone’s rooms and privies. Your eyes glanced to Chris’ bedroom door before pushing open the door to yours, stepping inside to the small, yet decorated space, filled with a board of knives and bows displayed upon one wall and an erratic strokes of paint brushed along the textured surfaces, courtesy of Jisung and Changbin’s lack of motivation to finish your room. An undone bed was tucked into the corner, and a large mirror stood on its curled railing in the other corner, revealing yourself, hands underneath the package.

The sun fell further, sky being painted with dark oranges and purple and pinks, staining your bedroom the colours of soft autumn as you put your package on the bed, untying the ribbon and unboxing the whole treat. 

The first glance of the dress had you smiling in pure incitement.

You brought the dress out of its box, letting it trail free right down to your toes, holding it to arm’s length to examine the details : it was a mysterious, dark red, a colour which instantly attracted attention within the golds of the ballroom. The neck line was low, dipping just enough to tempt until it swelled over for the openings for the arms, black ruffles on the fabric to accentuate off shoulders. The intricate, midnight detail was stitched to perfection, creating a network of swirls upon the bodice before flaring out into the wider skirts. Dear God, you had never seen such an exquisite dress on any noble lady in this damned city.

Your smile grew a little wider. Christopher Bang, once again, has not disappointed. 

You turned it on it’s back, mouth parting in surprise at the silk lacing, undone and trailing down the dress, waiting to be tied and admired. Realising that we’re you to wear this, the entire ball would see your back half-exposed. Even the man you’re to be escorted with.

The thought alone made your insides sing. 

Chris had ordered this dress. He knew what he was acquiring for you, what he asked you to dare. 

Well, you were happy to oblige. Something within you wished to see his eyes blaze at you in the gown.

Closing the curtains of your room, you quickly lit up a metallic lamp, orange light leaking onto your dresser and walls.  Setting the source upon a stool, you began shedding your coat, tossing it on the bed before going to the dresser.

You spent about ten minutes on your hair, lifting locks upward and curling them into a messy bun. You brought out clips of pearls, attaching them at the back of your hair, letting the few stray curls bounce along your ears and neck.

After finishing your hair you began shedding your clothing, excitement rushing in your gut at the thought of wearing the ballgown. When you were adorned in nothing but your underthings, you grabbed onto the arms of the new dress, entering one leg into the opening before sliding the other. You raised the gown, fitting the bodice upon yourself and the short sleeves cuffing just under your shoulders. 

Looking over your shoulder at the back, it was bare before the mirror, saving your rear only with a small dip which was edged with more black lace. The laces for tightening the back still hung uselessly, begging to be entangled with their partners.

And you tried to oblige. You truly did, straining your hands behind your back and trying your hardest to tie the laces with the opposites, of creating a pattern adequate enough for the ball and announce your preparation. Unfortunately for you, your fingers refused to assist you that moment in the evening. 

Letting out an irritated sigh, you called for your friends.

“Jisung!” you shouted, hands endeavouring still. “Changbin!”

Your back still to the door, you waited for the two fools to arrive, but no one came. Again, you called their names, but to no avail, only silence answering you.

“I swear to the Lord,” you muttered, arms now starting to hurt from the stretching. You were about to bring the warehouse down with your roar when you heard the door quietly creak open, the sound of boots emitting against the floor. 

“Ah, finally,” you began as you turned around, hands clutching the bodice of the dress, ready to be irritated by your comrades when all words abandoned your tongue.

There, standing by the door, in all his midnight-tainted glory, was Chris Bang.

You hated how your eyes widened at the sight of him. 

The man always took care of his appearance, but that evening he had truly outdone himself - His infamous woollen longcoat was hung over his arm, exposing his black tailcoat, shining slightly in the flickering lamp light. His waistcoat underneath fit snug, and his white cravat tie peaked just above the lapels, caressing his Adam’s apple. His raven locks were slicked back, a few stray flyaways drooping over his forehead. The gloves were worn still, skin never exposed.

You caught his eyes flicker, something within stirring at seeing you, holding onto your dress in case it fell to the floor. The prolonging silence was shattered when you forced yourself to speak.

“Chris,” you said, because his name was the first thing, the only thing you could comprehend.

He, too, inhaled, slowly. “Jisung and Changbin...they’re outside, so they could not hear.”

“Oh.” 

Another round of silence. God, you wished you could just say something to him, anything which wasn’t a single syllable—

“____.”

You snapped into focus. “Yes?”

“Why did you call them?”

Blinking, you stumbled, “I, I just needed help with…” your hand gestured to your back. “...with the laces.”

There was an indecipherable undertone in his next words. “You could have called me.”

“You’re here now.”

Again. The world-heavy pause upon the both of you. 

A few more seconds ticked by when Chris set his coat upon the dresser chair. His eyes never left yours.

“Turn around.”

You dragged your gaze away from his as you complied, baring your back before him, laces dangling. His footsteps sounded from behind you, and his presence was felt, large and magnetic.

Leather sliding from skin, you sensed his eyes on you, taking in your illuminated skin. You had the greatest urge to shiver, but suppressed it, waiting for his next move.

A small breath hitched in your throat when Chris grabbed onto the first pair of laces and tugged them back, pulling you to him. 

Almost too conveniently, your rear backed against his crotch, and a minute noise escaped you before putting some distance between you two again. You instantly regretted the action, already missing the mere caress of what lay underneath his trousers.

“Stop fidgeting,____,” he ordered, and you immediately stilled, the tug still adamant at your back. Almost disgraceful how quickly you listened to him.

Slowly, he tied the first bow, right to the small of your back. When he started on the second, though, the first touch of his fingers against your back threw you off guard.

You should have expected this. You should have known from the start of his task that his fingers would graze your skin but each caress was like a lick of fire, threatening to singe the skin. Your breath caught in your throat, each time Chris touched you.

Those damned fingers skirted upwards, tying up the laces with such delicacy it nearly softened your stance, if only you didn’t notice his growing warmth. You realised with no small amount of pleasure that he, too, was possibly flustered.

Christopher Bang. Flustered over a girl.

You almost gasped when his hands brought a few stray curls over your shoulder, the dip of your neck exposed as he began the final bow of your gown. The process was excruciatingly slow, each little caress enough for you to turn around and—

And what?

How you desperately wanted to find out. 

Sensing the ribbon curling upon your neck, you understood. 

“It is done,” he whispered, and you shifted at the sigh which kissed your skin. God, he was so close, you were scared that if you turned around his lips—

You did not need to worry when you felt strong hands grip your shoulders, whirling you around in a sudden fashion. Your eyes widened at the close proximity of his face, his beautiful fucking face, and the warm, slender hands on your naked shoulders.

“Chan,” you let yourself say, and you swore the criminal’s eyes darkened. His grip on you tightened.

Perhaps he would have closed the distance, saved you from desperation when someone knocked on the goddamn door.

“___?!”

“Hurry up, the carriage is waiting!”

“Women, honestly—!”

You yelped at the sound of your friends bellowing behind the door. Even Chris looked a little surprised, a slight tick in his jaw as the noise grew louder.

Grabbing onto your skirts, you thundered towards the door, furrowing your brows as you twisted the knob, opening to see the same two idiots, shooting you irritated glares. 

“Is Miss Fancy-Shmancy finally ready?” Changbin drawled, propping a hand upon his hip, tails of his coat dangling behind him.

“Madame certainly took her time,” Jisung went on, sauntering into your bedroom without a care. “Might as well not attend the ball at all—”

His incessant rambling was instantly ceased when he saw Chris standing before you, putting on his gloves. His face was impassive as ever, save for the jaw still tightened.

“Oh, Chris,” he said, and started backing away to the door. “The carriage is outside.”

“Let us go, then,” he only replied as he grabbed his longcoat, strolling out of your bedroom, leaving your skin tingling and heart confused.

Changbin watched Chris exit the building, turning to you with a raised brow. “What was the Mr. Thorns-up-his-arse doing in your room?”

You scoffed at the nickname, picking up the invitations from the dresser. “He was just helping me.”

Jisung’s lips curved into a smirk. “Helping you…?”

“Stop it!” You demanded, but both of the boys could see the blush on your cheeks, even from the dim lamp light. 

“Come on, now,____,” Changbin said, holding out an arm, and hitting Jisung’s arm to do the same. “Let us follow Chris before he shouts at us for keeping you here.”

“Don’t say such things,” you cooed, looping your arms with the two boys. “He will kill you outright instead.”

Laughter emitted from the two, leading you out of the room, down the halls and soon the building.

The carriage was waiting at the entrance of the dock, horses neighing softly at your arrival. Jisung opened the carriage door, letting you climb inside. Chris, inside already, held out a hand, you taking it as he had you sit beside him. His hard figure brushed against your shoulders, reminding you of his fingers on your back not too long ago.

Just like that, you slumped against the seating. That man was truly going to be the death of you.

When the two boys scrambled inside, Chris’ hand thudded against the roof, indicating it to start riding. The carriage obliged to his command. 

The small, interwoven streets widened as the carriage rode upon the main roads, going faster with each signal of Chris’ hand. The inside was alive with Jisung gloating shamelessly over his checkered waistcoat, with Changbin giving reassurances for his “ugly face ruining the clothing.” You laughed at every jab the two threw at each other, but would tense at the erratic touches Chris’ knee would send with every shake of the vehicle. Although the many layers of skirts cushioned these brushes, the blood rushing to your cheeks was evidence enough - everything he did made you so unhinged.

Soon, the big roads led from filthy, back-to-back housing to larger homes, the further the dirty central city strayed from you. A few touches of countryside teased your view when you saw mansions, estates the size of neighbourhoods gracing the surroundings. The carriage began to slow down, as more people adorned in fine attire entered your window view, no doubt going to the same destination as the gang.

The most illuminated estate welcomed you as the carriage stopped right before its vast, colourful gardens, smattering of couples taking intimate walks along the hedges. Chris, noticing the destination, opened the door, Changbin following suit. As the former got out he held out his hand to you. Surprised by his sudden manners, you took his hand, stepping down from the carriage, careful of your skirts as they brushed against the pavement. Jisung and Changbin were right beside you, uttering the driver to come back within a couple of hours.

“Now,” Chris began, bringing your hand to his arm. “You both stay behind me and ____. You wouldn’t need invitations if you both act like our bodyguards.”

“Right behind you, boss,” Jisung chanted, counting his knives inside his coat pockets. Changbin took one of the weapons from him, sliding it up his trouser sleeve, securing it with a leather ankle strap. 

“Right.” the gang all looked at each other, silent understanding passing between all of you.

“Let’s ruffle some rich feathers.”

With your hand still on his arm, the leader of the Sons of Seoul led his gang inside of the massive estate. 

Guards at the entrance shot you grave looks as they stopped you. “Invitations,” they said. You obliged, bringing out the golden paper. They looked over, convinced, and gave them back to you.

You and Chris were about to enter when Jisung and Changbin were stopped behind you. “Protection,” Chris said, but the guards were unconvinced. 

“They need invitations too,” was their answer.

Dread, slight yet present, began to fill your stomach. Has the mission failed before it could even begin?

“I suggest you let them in, too,” Chris only said, black eyes piercing the two men with a glare. “Or my friend hosting this party will hear of this inconvenience.”

That seemed to stir the guards, for they said nothing more, letting your friends enter the estate. Jisung and Changbin made sure to smirk at the men before sauntering inside behind you.

Your eyes, upon stepping inside the main hall, were welcomed with paradise. 

Gold. gold upon gold was painted, lined, moulded everywhere, upon the walls, on the floor, on the painted ceiling, hypnotising you with its kaleidoscopic pattern. Swirls of white and silver journeyed along the walls, and the floor bore solid treasures, sculpted into the ground and shining exquisitely from the chandelier lighting. Hundreds of lords and ladies, businessmen and escorts populated the manor, either being moved by the orchestral band, dancing, helping themselves to food from the lines of dishes or simply mingling among others.

It was the chaos of the rich. A place you didn’t quite fit in.

You stole a glance at the man beside you. Even though he looked contained as ever, you felt his arm tightening all over. Perhaps he knew he did not belong in this world either.

The grim understanding was cut off when Changbin’s shrill gulp sounded from behind you.

“Scones!”

The man immediately dashed towards the food section, earning blatant laughter from his friends as Jisung stepped beside Chris. “Once he’s done stuffing himself, we’ll get into positions.” He skirted his eyes over the buzzing crowd. “I have already spotted some of Carter’s men in different corners of the hall, so we can see where they’re going to go.”

“Any signs of Carter?” you asked, already feeling suggestive eyes on your body, the dark red curves of your figure. 

“He’ll show himself soon,” Chris promised, beginning to take a step forward. “The bastard thrives in attention.” He turned to Jisung. “Make yourself scarce.”

He then saw Changbin making himself much too comfortable with the jam scones rapidly declining in his wake. “And for God’s sake, control Changbin.”

Jisung shook his head, mocking a salute before strolling to his friend. You and him were left to your own activities, and soon you felt the tug of his body, leading you further into the hall.

You looked up to see him scouring the room. His brows furrowed slightly, that stiffness felt underneath your fingertips. “Chris,” you called to him, and were answered with an uncertain stare.

“I’m alright,” he said, walking along the lines of the dance floor, looking away when he gave you the false assurance. 

You did not know what was going on. In other missions his composure would never falter — this was what he was so notorious for, being calm despite the anarchy around him. Never before had you seen him so tense.

“Stop it.”

You blinked back into reality. “What?”

“You’re doing it again,” he hissed, raking his hand through his hair. “Looking at me that way. Like I’m about to snap.”

A pout formed on your lips, looking up at him underneath your lashes. “I can sense you’re distressed.” You squeezed his arm in comfort. “I cannot help if I worry for you, Chris.” 

With small surprise, you found him soften, only slightly. “I just…” he sighed in exasperation. “I hate parties.”

You understood the connotations. Wealthy parties. The men and women who throw them. 

“And I, too,” you agreed, earning a soft snort from the man. Your heart warmed a little at the sound, and thankfully the tension faded between the two of you, not necessarily from each other but from the socialites around you.

Your heart, however, received no such rest, beating much too loud for your liking. 

The two of you took another turn of the room before a low, arrogant drawl paused you both in your tracks.

“Mr Christopher Bang.”

You and your leader both sighed simultaneously. 

Turning, you tilted your head upwards to none other than ‘Scar’ Carter, smirking ridiculously down at the the two of you. He was something out of a children’s book, the grotesque villains with wanned skin and beady looks, ready to pounce and make you disappear without you ever realising. Although young, he looked to be in his mid-forties, unkept locks and curled moustache, being played by his fingers. 

He held out his other hand, extending the smile to the man beside you. “Always a goddamned blessing to see you.”

Chris assessed his hand for a moment before he let go of your grip on his arm, slipping off his gloves. His own olive coloured hands were roughened, no doubt from years of manual labour. He took Carter’s hand, shaking the greeting in place, and the latter turned his enemy’s hold, looking over at the new image inked upon the hand.

“What is this, Chrissy?” He mused, the nickname causing the said-man’s lips to twitch. “Some flowery poetry?”

Your eyes strayed to what he meant; just under his thumb, where the joint began, was a tattoo, inked deeply in a cursive hand. It was a phrase you had never knew the meaning of, nor had you asked, but the Latin was beautiful on his textured skin.

NON DUCOR DUCO.

“Not poetry, Carter,” he only said, tracing his sole tattoo with a finger. “But something I live by.”

Despite Carter towering over the man, Chris Bang pinned him with a piercing glare. His signature phantom smile appeared on his lips. 

“I am not led. I lead.”

The giant’s shit-eating grin faltered. You could not help but let a small chuckle escape at his reaction. 

And maybe you shouldn’t have shown amusement, because when he focused his animalistic gaze upon you, you had the sudden urge to hold onto the man beside you again.

“Ah, Miss ____,” he jeered, mocking a deep bow which you did not return. “Chris’ little...protégée.”

He then held out his hand to you, and you knew it was not to shake the gnarled fingers. “Would you do me the honour of dancing with you?”

You scoffed, anger bubbling within your veins. How dare he even ask you, after all the trouble he had caused for the gang? Smirking as if it was all a little game.

Your mouth parted, ready to reject him outright when a warm hand settled on your back. 

Chris’ fingers stroked the exposed skin, skirting over the lacing, and despite the heavenly feeling, you knew what this signal really meant. 

Distraction. This would be the perfect opportunity to divert Carter’s attention while Chris joined in the other’s search. Listening to the instrumental, you realised that would spare them another five minutes.

Reigning in your fury, you offered the bastard a thin-lipped smile before taking his hand, already missing the mere touch of another seconds before.

Carter led you to the dance floor among the other dancers, you hardly radiating the same enthusiasm as the others accompanying you. The man’s other hand, one still holding yours, snaked around your waist, and you hated how it felt against your back, pure distaste staining your features as he tried to impersonate the idle lace curling that Chris did.

As if it physically hurt, you propped a hand upon his shoulder, and when the music began, the game started.

The giant kept ogling at you as the sly grin appeared on his lips. “I must say, I am very envious of Chris.”

You matched his stare. “Of course you would,” you only said, trying your best to sound like your leader, who was an embodiment of calmness. “You can never be the man Chris is.”

“Oh, I did not mean by what he is, my lady,” he corrected. “I meant by what he has.”

He pulled you to him, much to close, and you hissed as the fingers behind you played on your back. “He is much too lucky to possess a creature like you, Miss ____.”

Good God. If he endeavoured to make you as uncomfortable as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You regretted ever listening to Chris, but for the plan, you will do what is necessary.

As if on cue, you felt dark, piercing eyes on you. By the little hairs which stood at the back of your neck, there was no doubt who watched over you, murmuring progress with Jisung as he sipped wine on a tightly held flute. 

“Tell me, sweet,” he began once more, making you lose your thoughts, turning about the room as the music went on. “Why do you work for a man like him?”

You sighed at the question. Truly this man did not know how to initiate small talk. “Why is that any of your concern?”

“Because I’ve seen you in action,” he answered, and you could not mistake the awe that threatened to expose in his voice. “You have incredible potential, my lady, and it pains me that Chris does not use you properly. You waste your efforts in a silly gang.”

His condescending speech made you dig his nails in his hand. “Careful, Carter,” you seethed, watching his face crumple in pain from your action. “The silly gang you speak of will not hesitate to obliterate your entire organisation. And neither will I.”

Rage flashed in his eyes as he grinned at your claim. “I doubt the esteemed Christopher Bang would even let you participate,” he drawled, grazing his fingers against your back. “You being his whore is enough for him.”

You parted your mouth in slight shock. The reaction quickly evaporated with pure, unadulterated fury. A lot of people speculate your true relationship with Chris, but your own demeaning always struck deep. How dare people think that you only have the power you have because you slept with the greatest criminal in the city? 

With your head raging, you sent your low heel down upon Carter’s boot, a yelp escaping the man as his dancing faltered, grip on you loosening. Fortunately for you, the orchestra smoothed their music to a close, and small applause rang around the room, you joining as you smiled at Carter’s slight groaning.

When the giant looked at you again, all his arrogance was gone, instead a face of wrath. “You bitch-”

You were sure he was going to strike, despite hundreds in the ballroom. Even your smug demeanour dampened when you saw his bear-like hand raise when its journey was paused.

Ceased completely as Chris’ hand wrapped around Carter’s wrists.

Your leader’s smile was sharp, like a decorated dagger. “Are you already creating a scene, just when you finished the first dance?”

Carter, dumbfounded by his enemy’s sudden presence, waved off the foreign grip on his hand. “You are never going to find the documents,” he crowed, glaring at the two of you.

Chris, the magnificent bastard, only kept his magnetic smirk as he took your hand, enveloping his fingers with yours. “We shall see about that,” he promised, and dipped his head in adieu, turning on his heel and taking you with him. 

You felt your heart flutter when his grip on you stayed, even when Carter stomped off into the crowd. “Bastard,” you hissed. A hum of agreement followed. 

Soon, music began to play a sensual tune, and you looked to the couples joining in the main circle of the floor. You made to leave that area when you felt the man refused to be led. 

You looked back, noticing an uncertain emotion swirling in his eyes. “The dance is about to begin.”

“So?” he merely said, hands still clasping yours. The people around you began to take positions. 

“Chris,” you got out. “You do not dance.”

A small smile enveloped his mouth at the claim. He answered in wrapping a hand around you, making you suck in a breath. You caught sight of the tattoo inked on his skin as he raised his hold on. NON DUCOR DUCO.

I am not led. I lead.

“You’re right,” he admitted. As the first tune of the violin settled in the ballroom, the man took a step. “But I let it slide on special occasions.”

You did not reply, only staring at him as you happily let him turn you about the dance floor.

Your assumptions were correct - Chris Bang was a wonderful dancer. The man already possessed a natural smoothness in his usual movement, but the way he led you across the room gave fluidity another meaning entirely. His hand on your back was an anchor to reality, keeping you from dreaming away in the skies above, and his fingers, interlocked with yours, were a silent promise that he was never letting you go. 

You were so caught up in your fantasies that you did not hear what Chris said until he called your name. 

“____.”

You perked up, raising your brows. “Yes?

“Did Carter say anything to you?” His fingers on your exposed skin began to caress you, and it took a lot within you to stay calm. “You were seething while you both danced.”

Oh, so he was watching you. The information didn’t help your nerves. “He was being his usual, charming self,” you drawled, careful of your feet. 

He paused a bit at your unhelpful answer. “I see,” he got out, index curling with the ribbon of your back. You let out a shuddered breath, not going unnoticed by the man. 

You changed the subject, focusing on the mission. “Are Jisung and Changbin still searching for the documents?”

Chris, on the note, twirled you delicately, and brought you back into his arms. “They have discovered the hideout, and have taken down half the men,” he informed, and you sighed in relief. “They’ll find what we’re looking for soon.”

“I hope so, too,” you murmured, listening to the music ascend in its pitch. 

So much finery radiated in this room. As your eyes drifted to the surroundings once more, you became slightly envious of the family fortunate enough to reside in this estate, and drink in the liquid gold splattered everywhere in the vast hall. Complaints were heard from a rather nasty woman, who screamed at a young servant for spilling wine on her oh so expensive dress, and the jewellery which glittered upon necks and ears. 

This. you hated this. Despised the wealth which accumulated in this ball, this entire neighbourhood. Not months ago you were about to die from the lack of food in your stomach. No doubt these people simply relished another one of these many balls, occurring every season.

It was the only reason the Sons of Seoul existed in the first place. To battle the ranks of the rich, and establish a sense of justice which had long faded from London.

Perhaps Chris sensed your growing disgust at the environment, for he sighed. “I hate these people.”

You nearly smiled at how similar you both think.

His touches still had you nearing closer to him as he continued, “I hate how everyone here can simply enjoy themselves without a care in the world. I hate the Mayor for letting this chaos happen as he sits back on his arse, corruption spiking under his office.”

His anger grew. “I hate that pig-headed prick Carter and all the trouble he’s brought me. I hate that he stole those documents and constantly fucks with me as if we two had not crawled out of the same hellhole.

“And God,” he snapped, pure venom now lacing his tongue, “I hate how he was touching you as if you were no one but his.”

Your eyes widened at the confession.

He groaned out in frustration, fingers tightening on your hand. “I hate how Jisung and Changbin walked in on us this evening. Despise that the moment I was about to close the distance they burst through the door, leaving me helpless. And I hate feeling helpless.”

You did not know what to say, what words to comfort him with. Not when you were thinking the exact same thing, and felt the exact same agitation, particularly at your core.

The man leaned in, eyes heavy lidded. “You know what I hate the most, ____?”

Gulping, you let out a little, “What?” afraid of what he was going to reveal.

His tongue ran along his bottom lip, fingers continuing their teasing.

“I-” he seethed, gripping your back tightly. “Fuck, I hate how ravishing you look in that dress.”

You parted your mouth in shock, blushing the colour of roses. “Why do you hate that?” you only asked, breath almost lost in your lungs as your blood began to thrum beneath your skin.

His eyes lost all dreamy light when a small curve enveloped his lips. “Because, my dear ____,” he muttered hoarsely, each breath ragged, “It makes me think of all the things I want to do to you.”

The strong hand on his back was felt much more, fingers playing with the laces of your dress. You nearly cried out in front of a hundred people over their idle play, and his bold, bold statement.

Chris relished in your whimpering reaction. “Aren’t you going to ask me?” he whispered, leaning in till his mouth hovered near your ear. “Do you not want to know what I wish to do to you?”

“What,” you rasped out, grip tightening over his neck. “What are you going to do?”

His husky chuckling nearly sent you over the edge. “I’ll find a nice little space, away from Carter and all these people,” he began, breath caressing your skin. “Then I’ll kiss you slowly, like so.” he pressed a chaste kiss underneath your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “These hands of mine will roam all over, but they will gladly trail up your legs, ____.

“And God, when my hands stop at your sopping cunt, I’ll make it cry with my fingers.” He drummed his fingers on your back. “One.” Tap. “Two.” Tap. “Three of them.” Tap. “Perhaps you’d like more.”

You whined into his shoulder, feet stumbling as you clung onto him tighter. “M-more,” you pleaded quietly, so careful to keep dancing, move along to the music. 

“Of course you would,” he only cooed in your ear, and you were scared you would collapse over his words. “Luckily for you, I wouldn’t be finished with you either.”

Your hand, clasped in his his, squeezed at his words. “Chris, please—”

“Yes, just like that,” the man mused, whirling you on the dance floor. “Just like that, you’ll beg me to send you over the edge, but I won’t let you be satisfied so easily.” 

On God and all his subjects, if he did not cease his filth you were going to come onto the floor by his mere words. You could tell Chris noticed, almost reading your mind as the ghost of a smirk widened. “Already afraid, love?”

Love. 

Dear, fucking God.

“You see, ____,” he muttered, leading you to the final round of the song, the steps of the dance going faster. “I won’t let you be satiated with just my fingers.”

And as he broke his hold on you, twirling you with his tattooed hand, he pulled you to him, one last time, crushing you against his granite chest. 

His eyes bore into yours when the last string of the violin wailed around the hall. All you could see was pure, unadulterated desire.

“I will have you writhing with my cock.”

Your eyes never left Chris’ as the music finally came to a close, gaze blurring at the dark promise. Applause scattered around the ballroom, yet your hands stayed upon his arm, the other enveloped in his.

You caught the words once more under his thumb. NON DUCOR DUCO.

Indeed you do.

“Chris,” you breathed out, waiting for him to let you go. He did no such thing.

Feeling a few suspicious eyes on you, your feet backed away from the man, hands escaping the feeling he emitted underneath your touch. 

A whine threatened to escape you when you saw his desire had not dampened. His hands shook, only slightly, and your stomach erupted into a million butterflies, journeying lower and lower. 

You wanted him. You wanted him so badly you feared you would faint on the dance floor. 

Excusing yourself, you hastened your footsteps, sending a few smiles to passerbys as you picked up a flute of champagne, hurrying down long hallways, catching a few couples leaning towards each other. When you found a grand wooden cabinet beside another door, no doubt a guest room, you slumped next to it, breathing loud and ragged, too affected by a certain man’s eyes and the hidden intentions underneath. You drank the entire champagne in one gulp, propping the flute on a servant’s tray as he rushed by.

“____!”

Gasping, you turned to the source of the voice. The voice which filled you with such unexplainable hunger you had to clench your thighs as it drew nearer.

Footsteps thudded against the carpet, and you squirmed at the sight of Chris Bang, storming towards you with a ferocity which had your knees near buckling.

“Where,” he began, voice an octave lower as he stood not a foot from you, smacking his hands against the wall, caging you with his presence. “Were you trying to lead me?”

“Somewhere where they cannot see us,” you responded, excitement clear in your voice. The ballroom chatter was still within your range, so technically, anyone could wonder down these halls, look over the cabinet and catch you both. 

The throbbing inside you didn’t particularly care. 

“And what do you want me to do,____,” he murmured, and his voice was glazed with pure lust,  “Which the world cannot see?”

“I…” slight shame tried to course through your body but the overflowing desire was too strong. Not when your tongue was not afraid to voice what was in your heart the moment you first saw him. “I want you to do all those things you said. I want you to ruin me.”

And perhaps that was all he needed, when Christopher Bang pressed his lips against yours and answered your prayers.

He was instantly rewarded with your surprised whine, drowned out by the movement of his mouth as his hands left the wall, holding onto your face. His thumbs caressed your cheeks as he led the fiery kiss, opening your mouth to let the little noises escape.

“Chris,” you tried to rasp out, but his lips refused once more as he tilted your head, gaining full access and truly discovering the sheer pleasure oozing from the swell of your lips. God, he had gone through every experience which gave him a sense of thrill, but the kiss he shared with you brought him a new, foreign high — as if he tried the drugs he had seen on the streets for the first time, and becoming addicted on the first dose. 

You broke the kiss, gasping for air as the two of you shared a carnal gaze, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm. Chris was ruthless, only sparing you for a few seconds before pouncing back in on your mouth, this time tongue playing along, asking to be let inside and slide along the inner workings. You would have been a fool to refuse him.

The moment you opened your lips for him his tongue slithered inside, sliding it along the roof of your mouth, while his hands left your face and instead gripped onto your waist, driving you further against the wall, snuffing out any distance which dared come between you and him.

A slightly moan bubbled within your throat when he began to roughen your lips, capturing your tongue before closing the seam of your mouth within his own, repeating the action until you didn’t know whether you were sane or absolutely fucking crazy.

You were sure straight after when one of his hands began sliding down. Down. He hurriedly broke the kiss, letting out an angry groan at the never ending skirts which met with his fingers. “Fuck this dress,” he cursed as he descended a little, peppering kisses upon the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck, trailing until he found the hem of your skirts.

Bunching them up with his one hand, he lifted the fabric, baring your legs to the dimmed chandelier light from the main hall. His hand trailed right up to your core, a single layer hiding it from Chris’ fingers. The poor, soaked fabric could not ever compete, when the criminal, with a single finger as he scattered kisses upon your face, hooked under the lacey underwear, sliding it down your thighs. So much desperation lurked he did not even bother to slide it down to your ankles,  a chuckle rasping out of him as his fingers skimmed your upper thighs to find them dripping with the suppressed arousal.

“My poor, poor, darling,” he whispered in a menacing tone, the other hand caressing your face, “Couldn’t contain yourself for me?”

“Ch-chan,” you heard yourself say, because at this point your soul was not present, probably lurking in seventh heaven where this man was taking you. 

Hearing his name on your slurred mouth only had him plunging the first finger inside you. 

You let out an obscenely loud moan, which was immediately followed by hushing. “Don’t make a sound,” he demanded, smiling slyly at your whimpering, “Or else I stop. Understand?”

You could not nod fast enough, and he huffed out a laugh before sliding the second finger in, rubbing against your slit, drawing circles upon your throbbing skin, testing the rather sticky waters of you and your fucked out state. 

Satisfied, he delved the two fingers in deeper, pulsating against your walls until they hit a certain spot which had you crying out in pleasure. Chris’ heavy lidded warning flashed in his eyes.

You nearly cried when he began to slide his fingers out over your moaning, your hand immediately stopping him from pulling out further. “Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, pleaded like the whores you heard on the docks, but you didn’t care, did not give a single fuck when those fingers needed to be inside you again. “Chan, please, I’m sorry—”

“One more fuck up, ____, and these—” his fingers plunged back into you once more, hitching you upwards with the sheer force, “—will be back out.”

Nodding hastily, you left your hand on his wrist. Chris continued to work so deliciously inside you that it took every ounce of strength left in you not to bring the manor down with your moaning. The whimpering could not be contained, but the criminal let that slide, finding great contentment every time you begged for more.

He curled his slender fingers, acquainting himself with that same bloody spot which had you seeing stars. Your hands gripped onto his neck for stability, nails digging into his shirt. How you wanted it off, along with all the damned layers he adorned.

The way he played with your sweet spot had you feeling heavy, a pleasured ball of pain forming at your lower back. You knew you were being led to an edge, an edge you could not, did not want to escape, and when you pulled away from Chris, looking into his eyes, he instantly understood.

“Oh my, love,” he simpered, his free hand thumbing your cheek. “Does someone want to get fucked against the wall? When I’m not even finished with them yet?”

Tears lined your eyes, cunt throbbing almost painfully around his fingers. “Chan, I’m going to—ah!” you cut off, closing your eyes as you barely held on to your last grips of sanity. “Chan.”

Your weakened, fucked out demeanour had the most dangerous man in London fearing for his own senses. He wished nothing more than you screaming his name for the whole city to hear, and with you, looking at him like that…

Oh, he was definitely going to drive you over the edge.

Christopher Bang nearly carried out his promise when a shrill call interrupted you two. 

“CHRIS! ____!”

“WHERE ARE YOU—?”

Your lust-glazed stare cracked as you blinked. “Chan,” you said his name, but the man let out an enraged roar. You felt the hollow emptiness when those golden fingers were pulled out of you, sticky residue coating his skin. The footsteps grew closer, the volume of the shouting increasing. 

Chris brought out a white handkerchief, cleaning your mess on his fingers rather aggressively. “I’m going to fucking kill them,” he guttered out, making your legs tremble. To your utmost misery you felt the orgasm, so close before, fading from existence, and you made a silent vow to break Jisung and Changbin’s legs the moment all of this was over.

Speaking of the Devil, the two hastened, opening all doors and closing them till the two stumbled upon the both of you, infuriated and worryingly turned on.

Changbin looked at the deflated expression on both of yours faces. “Chris? ____?” His eyes narrowed, trying to work out the reasons for the slight electric atmosphere he suddenly entered in. “Are you both...alright?”

“Perfectly,” the man answered in a ragged hiss, sliding on his gloves again, smoothing over his raven locks. “Now why the fuck are you both here?”

The two boys did not understand their leader’s anger. Choosing to let the snipe slide, Jisung said, “We’ve caught Carter.”

That seemed to send you and Chris back in reality. Well, not really, when your core still throbbed, the pleasure fading with each passing second.

“Where is he?” Chris flattened out his coat. “Where are the documents?”

Changbin brought out a small file from inside his waistcoat, holding it out for the former. “Right here.”

Chris took the file, skimming through the contents. His previously angered expression relaxed, just a fraction, and he held onto it as he set his powerful gaze on you all. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The four of you managed to slip away easily, you trying your hardest to fix yourself after the whole fiasco in the hallway. Your heart was still running a mile per minute, refusing to calm as your mind relived the events. The original carriage which you all arrived in was now accompanied with another one, with a dark figure hunched over from the window’s view.

“We threw the giant fucker in another carriage,” Changbin said, laughing as he recalled the takedown with Jisung. “Man could not believe he was failing!”

Chris ignored his story, turning to you all as he stood before Carter’s carriage. “You three, take the free one,” he ordered, his eyes rooted on you. “I will journey home with him.”

“But Chris,” you began, taking a step towards him, “Let me come with you.”

You caught a glimpse of the desire which swirled in his eyes, not long ago, and perhaps that was why he held your arm in his now gloved hand. 

“Go,” he only said. “I have a few things to say to him alone.”

After letting you go, nodding at the boys behind you, Chris Bang stepped inside the first carriage, slamming the door shut. The metal wheels screeched as the whole thing began to move, accelerating away.

You watched the carriage fade from view, Jisung and Changbin stepping beside you.

“What happened, ____?” the former asked, the other trying to comfort you with his gaze. 

Silence was their only answer, as you turned on your heel, climbing inside your designated ride and watched the stars twinkle from the window.

The two members of the gang really tried their best.

As you all journeyed home without your leader, the pair told their tale of how they took down Carter and his men, Jisung adding exaggerated gasps as Changbin demonstrated each kill he thrust upon his victims. You offered them a few laughs, giving them your attention, but really your mind was somewhere else, specifically a midnight-tainted criminal who nearly brought you your undoing.

You were insane. Insane as you thought of him, insane as you remembered how wonderfully he had you writhing over him, just by his fingers. The mindless pondering alone had your cunt pulsating, and you deserved an award for how unaffected you acted with your friends. 

Soon, the carriage slowed to a stop, and you perked up, not realising you had already arrived home. 

You waited for the boys to exit before you stepped out of the carriage, the only light on the docks emitting from lamps and the night sky, reflected on the surface of the river. The first carriage was already there when your feet met the concrete floor, and when you turned to the man who reigned in your mind he had his signature expression, an aloof distaste as he walked over to his gang. 

“Jisung, Changbin,” he called, and the boys responded. “Lock the carriage door,” he ordered, jerking his chin towards his transport. “We will bring him out in the morning.”

“Chris, should we not throw him in the cellar?” Changbin glared at Carter’s direction. “Bastard might escape.”

He only slid his hands in his pockets, you catching the dried blood on his gloves. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said, striking a step towards the building. “He’s not going to disturb us tonight. I can promise you that.”

Jisung cursed low along with you, only watching the man walk back to the bedrooms. Bidding goodnight to your friends, you followed Chris’ trail, opening the door and stepping inside the hallway.

You saw him before his bedroom door, bringing out a rusted key. His eyes slid to you as your feet brought you to your entrance. You looked back, waiting as Chris unlocked his room and began to enter.

He turned back, something dark and twisted still lurking in his eyes.

You waited, so patiently at the words you wished to hear, of him finally ruining you.

Instead, you received something else entirely.

“Goodnight, ____.”

And closed the door behind him.

Your heart dropped. 

Fell to the floor, and shattered under the criminal’s bloodied boots. 

The light of the hallway flickered as you stood rooted to the doorway, eyes staring at Chris’ door as if looking at it hard enough would get him to change his mind.

What did you know. The man is not led by exterior forces. Only by his own will.

When you gathered up the strength to the slam the door shut, you slumped against the wood, hating yourself for the tears which threatened to break the lines of your eyes. This was pathetic — utterly disgusting that you were about to cry over his decision.

But you could not help it. You were so enraptured by him. Hell, you were ready to throw yourself in the fires of damnation for him, as he whispered filth all the while rutting against you. Why had that suddenly changed?

“Argh!” You screamed, stomping over to the lamp, light now long extinguished. You relit it’s spark, illuminating the room once more, and set it on the stool before recklessly plucking out the pearls in your hair, a few tears daring to trail down your cheeks. 

Fuck him. Fuck him for making you so rattled. Fuck him for having that effect on you.

You looked into your mirror and cursing yourself for the disheveled appearance. Again, the consequences for letting yourself fall for him.

“To hell with you Bang Chan,” you cursed. 

You were about to untie your dress when your bedroom door was nearly ripped off its hinges. 

Flinching, you grabbed the dagger on your dresser, raised to cut down whoever stupid enough to barge in on an assassin at midnight.

You were met with Christopher Bang. 

And the disorder he brought with him.

Chaos reigned in his figure; his tousled locks, his star-struck expression, his rolled-up sleeves and his pandemonic eyes, all working together and against each other to create the man you had never seen in your life. 

Good God. What had happened to him?

“Chan?” You got out, dagger now brought down. He said not a single word in response as he slammed the door shut, hard enough for the entirety of London to hear. 

Instead, he imprisoned you with his stare, almost giving you his chaos. The chaos you had always shared with him since the moment he picked you off the streets.

No, he said not one word — only took the steps needed to march towards you. You could only watch with widening eyes when he grabbed your face in his rugged hands and collided his lips against yours. 

You did not even hesitate to comply, hands grabbing onto his shirt, pulling him as close as you possibly could, so afraid that he would disappear from your grip if you dared let go. With the way he moved his mouth along yours, however, already opening up the familiar workings, you had a feeling he was not going to abandon you now.

When he broke away, breathing already erratic, his hands slid down to your neck, thumbs caressing the length of your throat. “I couldn’t,” he started, and he was sprinkling kisses all over your face. “I couldn’t leave.”

“I was scared, Chan,” you confessed, fisting the material harder. “I thought you truly did.”

His eyes focused on you. Within the turmoil, there was a promise. “Never,” he whispered, leaning in. “Never again.”

And suddenly his lips were on you, and the desperation was so rooted he nearly stole the very breath from your lungs. The sheer intensity, the longing implied broke your heart to the point you attached yourself to him, wrapping your arms around him and refusing to ever let him go.

The rather soft kiss began to heat up, as Chris broke the seam of your lips, swirling your tongue in his, already receiving incoherent praise from deep down your throat, making the man smile against his lips as he continued. 

His hands slid further down, right to the small of your back, where he began to untie all the little bows he created for you at the dawn of the evening, the little touches of fire singeing you still. It was fascinating how effortlessly he loosened all the laces, fingers sliding through the patterns until one by one they fluttered down, until the dark red dress slackened around your chest. 

A small gasp escaped you as Chris, while creating a trail of kisses down your jaw, right down to your neck, grabs the dress from your sides, hitching it down until it falls to the floor. Leaving you practically naked save for the scraps covering your dangerously soiled underwear. 

Chris paused from his ravishing, taking a much too long look at your skin, glowing from the lamp light, and before he could stare any longer you brought your arms to your chest, suddenly becoming a little too embarassed to let him see you at your most vulnerable. 

The supposedly unfeeling criminal, however, nearly broke into a smile at your flustered nature, and grabbed onto your wrists, opening the lock to your breasts, peaked by his actions, and the thought of what was to come.

The soiled underwear was about to drip at this point.

“You’re exquisite,” was all he said, making you almost burst into tears at the praise. You pressed a long, heart shattering kiss upon his mouth, and he responded perfectly, hands sliding to your naked waist, each drum of his fingers like a tug towards a dangerous edge. 

Things began to take a turn, open mouthed kisses being plastered on the skin of your throat as the man pushed you back, further and further until the back of your knees hit the bed, stopping you in his tracks. His grip on your waist directed downwards, planting you on the mattress as his mouth descended to your collarbone, down and down until he licked your peaked nipple in a way that had you moaning obscenely loud. His husky chuckle resonated along your skin, still not pausing his trail until he hit the end of the dip of your cunt, barricaded by the fabric. 

The moment he looked up at you, that alone made you nearly undo yourself. By the increasing volume of your breathing, Chris seemed to realise so too.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he got out, watching you whimper at each touch caressing your hips. “Already about to come when I haven’t even done anything?”

“Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, wishing for those damned fingers of his to plunge inside of you. The son of a bitch was taking his time, making you wait knowing it pained you to stay like this. “Chan—”

His name on your tongue had him gritting his teeth, hands on each of your side grabbing onto your lace, and sliding your underwear down, all the way till it fell free from your legs and threw it across the room, forgotten when Chris parted his mouth at the moistened treasure between your legs. 

Those roughened hands steeled their grip on your thighs, pulling you closer till you sat right on the edge of the bed, cunt mere inches from his face. You could not even comprehend the insanity of this situation, that the hidden fantasies you dreamed of shamelessly were morphing into reality right before your eyes.

“So, so pretty,” he murmured, blowing a little air on your slick folds, earning himself a sucked in breath from his truly. “So pretty and wet, and all because of me.”

You let out a ragged breath, words of filth sounding so foreign on his tongue. It was not like he didn’t talk like the sailors living near you on the docks, but these dirty words and dirtier intentions, now all directed at you, made you feel so flustered, in a wondrous way you could not possibly describe. All you wanted was for him to keep singing this filth till you blacked out.

Chris, with the force of his hands, spread your thighs a little wider, and without warning broke his tongue from the seam of his lips, planting it upon your slit and moving it slowly over the surface.

That alone made you cry out in ecstasy.

But that was only a test, a taking on of foreign surroundings before truly welcoming himself, and by God, did he welcome himself in as more than a guest, when that tongue slid deeper and performed strokes which had you seeing all the stars in the universe. 

What was first slow teasing then became a starved hunt, tongue relishing in the sweet arousal you emitted, lapping it up brazenly as if he had been wanting to do this for a long, long time. Your blubbering grew louder with every lick, fisting the sheets behind you with such ferocity you were sure they’d tear. 

And if that wasn’t painstakingly enough, the man spread your legs a little wider, his tattooed hand, two fingers out, sliding straight inside you, making you mewl at the way they tightened they walls they journeyed in. Curling, just like they did earlier in the evening, they took their time finding the certain little spot which had you bringing the house down with your cries. 

“Ch-Chan, please, please, I’m going to—AH!” You rasped out, when the said-criminal found the sweet little undoing of yours and stroked your fingers along the sensitive spot, making that bundle of pleasure resonating in your back appear once more, like a low throbbing begging to be released.

His tongue had not given you any breaks, still working ruthlessly along your clit and you cried for him to give you that sweet release, to just let you come but he had not let you be satisfied this easily. No, he wanted you writhing underneath him, wanted the final ruination to be from underneath his trousers, angered as it outlined against his leather.

You craned your head back, screaming out his name because you knew all else had abandoned you. “Chan!” Looking down, his mouth very much occupied with your cunt. Your orgasm was reaching, was on the very edge, and if he kept working on you like this he was on his way to taste the consequences of his actions.

Something about that image made you want it as a reality with a worryingly strong intensity. 

“Chan, I’m going to—” you were about to warn but were interrupted by a squeeze of your thigh, done by yours truly as if he knew. And as if he knew, the two fingers began pumping much faster, harmonising along with his tongue, and the two actions at once, fucking you with that rapidity was so pleasurable that, with the first earth-shattering cry of the night, you were driven over the edge, releasing your orgasm straight into the criminal’s face.

You felt the work of his fingers slow down, along with his tongue, that with one, final lick, he retreated from your cunt, fingers still inside you as they comforted your aching core with slow, soothing strokes. 

When he looked up at you, though, with your residue mostly upon his mouth, scattered on his cheeks, and basically a bit of everywhere, that sight alone nearly caused you to come all over again. 

Perhaps that was his intentions. 

Because when he licked his lips clean of your mess, ever so slowly, as if enjoying your orgasm like a man starved, you instantly saw in his eyes that this night was not over yet. 

“Already so good, so wonderful,” he mused, slipping his fingers out, both hands now resting on your thighs. “Coming so quick even though I had been saving for the last.”

You knew exactly what he meant, but still had the nerve to ask, “The last?”

He raised a groomed brow, and that gesture was so breathtaking, more so when he raised himself slightly, so he knelt eye-level to you. “Don’t act oblivious, love,” he mused, leaving your thighs to your disappointment, but quickly diminishing when his fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping upon, each patch of skin being revealed like a show of your own. “We both know this isn’t how it’s going to end.”

Shivers crawled down your spine, but you only watched as the man finished undoing his shirt, peeling it off of him and throwing it amongst the other clothing. You nearly let spit trail down your chin at the sheer finery of his muscle alone, sharpened at his arms, his chest all the way down to his v-line, which dipped dangerously low. With no small amount of pride, you also noticed the large, angry outline of Chris’ cock, begging to be set free. 

The man caught you blatantly staring, and a shit-eating grin twisted his glistening lips. “You may do the honours if you’re so keen.”

Blushing, you mumbled a shut up, but was captured by Chris’ lips, tasting your own arousal on his tongue, as his grip on you led you further into the bed, while you fumbled on the buttons of his trousers, popping them open one by one when you broke from the kiss, your turn to shower him with more along the veiny expanse of his neck as you pulled his trousers down, tossing them among the pile.

When you saw the slight-stained underwear of his, you felt the familiar throbbing again, so affected by how you affected him. Noticing your apparent pride, he pressed his lips upon you in a searing kiss, peeling off any last scrap of clothing and forgetting that too among the other clothing.

And by God, when Chris Bang’s cock escaped from his underthings your mouth actually watered at the sheer size it bore. Husky laughter resonated in your ears, and you flushed the colour of blood when he caught you staring much too audaciously than he would have imagined. 

“Already fantasising about my cock?” He slurred, the tattooed hand curling stray hairs from your sweat-slick, flushed face. The way you scrunched your nose, clearly flustered by his comment, melted his stone cold heart, as he caressed your cheeks with his fingers. 

You did not answer him, only whispering his name along his skin, waiting and waiting for the man to drive that force home inside you. “Chan,” you murmured, and the name you kept saying like a religious chant, like it was the only word that mattered, was what brought him to grip his cock, directing it against your entrance, the still slick folds which grew more wet every time the tip caressed the sensitive skin. “Chan, please—”

“Please what?” He demanded, demanded because he needed to hear you precisely want you wanted. The words he practically prayed would be on your tongue the moment he kissed you for the first time this evening.

Obliging him was like second nature. “Please fuck me, Chan,” you breathed out, holding onto his shoulders, knowing you were going to need a hell of a good grip for what was about to arrive. “Please, just ruin me with your cock.”

A malicious smile curled upon his lips. “Good, good girl,” he purred, and began the descend which you dreamed of the very first night you realised you were ridiculously attracted to him.

His cock slid inside you, and with a soul-wrenching whine, was perfectly snug as the journey went on, and on, and on, until you were certain you could not take anymore, despite the man retaining a few inches. He was slow at first, making sure you were not going to be pained by this action. Although your nails dug into the granite muscle of his shoulders, you only egged him on. “M-more,” you only said, and he readily obliged, until you felt him all around you in your body, as if he had filled you up to the brim. 

“Ready?” He asked, and when you nodded, he rested his forehead against yours as gently, he began to pull out. 

You nearly whined at the lack of inches filling you up, but then he brought his cock back in, creating this hypnotic rhythm which was so unimaginably ethereal you felt yourself float amongst the clouds. Each thrust out and thrust in was a drive in and out of reality, with Chris Bang holding the tether of your survival, pulling you in and out of his mercy. 

Gradually, he began to fasten, panting as his drove into you with more force, and when the momentum hardened, you felt your soul leave your body. His cock created wonders for you, having you scream in unimaginable pleasure, and driving your nails into his back was not enough, your lewd moaning not enough given to his sheer skill, his pure simplicity in bringing his cock back and front which had you seeing stars. Hell, Christopher Bang showed you undiscovered universes, leading you across galaxies and unfamiliar cosmos, each thrust in a different vision, and when he lifted your leg a little higher for more access, you feared that you would wake the whole docks with your groaning, for this criminal, this heartless criminal provided you with the whole universe with the simple strokes of his cock inside you, and all you could offer him were screams. 

Even your reactions were pure Beethoven to his ears, relishing in your fucked out state as he gave you all he asked, driving you to the edge of the world. You, finally, clashed your lips against his, offering him sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over his face and neck, and that alone had him greeting his teeth, knowing his own release was near. You were going to die if he was not given the same pleasure as you, so you reacted with each of his touches, each of his thrusts, him practically pistoning you upon this bed which very much would break. 

“Ch...Chan…” you grated out, eyes blurring, vision completely fucked, “I’m...I-I—”

“I—fuck,” he too got out, for your last love mark painted onto to the curve of his neck nearly had him ruined. “I’m going to come, too, love—”

“Chan!” You whined, because the throbbing was there, and was so close that if the man did not send that last thrust home then it was all for nothing, everything that had ever happened will all be for nothing.

But he listened. The man who did not listen to anyone or anything listened, and pounded his cock so hard in approval that it had you crying out to the cosmos as you finally let go, orgasm spilling out from whatever space the residue could find between his cock. Your own release had Chris groaning louder than he had even done this entire time, praising you unconditionally, until the filth was cut off by a low curse, with his own release barrelling into you, some joining your spilled mess upon the sheets.

Chris let out a shuddering breath, slowly crossing his movement inside you. Carefully, when you stopped digging your nails into his shoulders, he pulled out, reaching for the blanket untouched and bringing it over you and him before collapsing beside you. Both of you breathed as if you had held your oxygen for a thousand years, chests rising unevenly. 

A silence hung over you two, heavy yet not uncomfortable, lingering in your bedroom. Chris sat up a little, using your pillows behind him as comfort as he raked his hair back, sweat-slick all over, much like you. You held the blanket right up to your chest, hair in disarray, much like your heart. The poor organ threatened to collapse at the events.

Sneakily, you caught a glance at the greatest criminal in London, staring off at the distance, mouth set in a concentrated line. He looked dashing even in his post-sex state, the lines of his chest still stark against his sweat. You truly had never seen a man this beautiful in your life. 

He turned his head to you, catching your staring, and when you tried to look away he captured his chin with his fingers, making you meet his fierce stare. Although dark, the lust had satiated, and instead held passive affection. Well, you hoped it did.

“Why do you still look away?” He demanded in a low, tired voice.

You tried to slide your gaze to the lamp, but was too bewitched by his midnight eyes. “Because you’re beautiful, Chan,” you answered, feeling the blood rush to your face. 

He cocked his head, damp curls sticking to his face. “You say that as if you are not,” he countered. 

You did not say anything then. Even so, he received your answer. 

“____,” he said in a low tone. The grip on your chin loosened, and the hand went to your cheeks, cupping your face. “You are truly flawless. Don’t make me have to make you believe that.”

A small smile hinted at your lips. “And what if I still don’t?”

His answering smirk sent butterflies tumbling once again. After a moment, as if hesitating, he then snaked his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You were surprised when his one hand fully encircled you, while the other hand, the tattooed hand, rested upon your head, stroking your hair with his slender fingers. You did not pull away, was never going to, only wrapping your arm across his chest. 

It was the first time you had ever seen Christopher Bang hug someone in his life.

“Chan?” You asked.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you get that tattoo?”

He paused for a minute, never ceasing his fingers intertwined in your locks. After a small sigh, which you felt beneath your own fingertips, he said, “It is simply something I live by. 

“Non ducor duco. No one will lead me, love. Only myself.”

You pondered over the roots of this phrase, of the significance for the man you lay with. 

“Good,” you said after a while. “I wouldn’t want anyone leading you either.”

With that, you gave into the soothing movement of Chris’ fingers, working lazily in your hair. And while you dozed off to sleep, the criminal mastermind of the biggest city in the world pondered some more, specifically over his motto.

NON DUCOR DUCO. A phrase which had stayed true for so long no one could ever change it.

But after tonight, as you slowly dozed off under Chris’ caresses, he wondered whether there isn’t one person he wouldn’t mind being led by. 

And as he stole a soft glance at the specific person beside him, he knew. 

He knew that although he will be led by no man, there is one woman who he would, to his own shock, happily be led for. 

So, with that new, and slightly terrifying revelation, Christopher Bang went to sleep, knowing that someone had fucked with him and gotten away. 

And he was willingly going to let it happen. 

#stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #stray kids dark hours #bang chan #stray kids #stray kids oneshot #kpop imagines #kpop smut #skz imagines #skz smut #chris bang #christopher bang #skz dark hours

[okeydrama]

every drama i’ve seen so far ever pt.1

i’m not that new to k-dramas i just haven’t seen very many because i watch a lot of things so it’s spaced out over years

boys over flowers

2/5 stars

my first drama

it was great when i first watched it but definitely not good as a rewatch

will always have a place in my heart

the heirs

3/5 stars

i watched this because i wanted more Lee Min Ho

i really enjoyed it, it’s just a very basic stereotypical drama

my first case of second lead syndrome, Kim Woo-bin stole the show

strong girl bong-soon

5/5 stars

another case of second lead syndrome, Ji Soo is so hot in this

i just love the entire vibe of this drama

really cool concept and keeps you engaged

i haven’t seen this in a long time but from what i remember, it’s solid

oh my venus

4/5 stars

another cool premise

main guy is super alluring

there’s more to focus on than the main relationship

is very refelective

my first, first love

2/5 stars

idk how to put this but i was so incredibly disappointed by this show

i had no interest in any of the romantic relationships with the lead

i really wanted a Ji soo lead drama but this fell flat for me

i didn’t see any chemistry between the leads and the second lead was just a terribly written character

the show’s premise was nice but the execution didn’t work

i watched both seasons but i could have gone without it

i didn’t even mind Ji soo’s character that much but the main female lead was not a good pairing for him

love alarm

5/5 stars

i really liked this show as a whole

the female lead has chemistry with both male leads

i wouldn’t be mad or dissappointed if she ended up with either

really cool premise

beautiful cinematography

broke a lot of unwritten kdrama rules and pulled it off successfully

the leads have a good dynamic

cinderella and the four knights

3/5

once again it follows th stereotypical kdrama model

i think i would have loved it more if i had watched earlier than i did

it made me fall in love with Park So Dam

i really liked the male lead, he did a good job portraying a more damaged character

very memorable

it was well written

bride of habaek

2/5

the premise was absolute flaming trash

it was a half assed premise with terrible execution

the second lead sucked

the absolute best part of this show was the chemistry between the leads and even that was lacking

Nam Joo-hyuk looked very good

i hated the cinematography, the script the premise, the side characters, the setting; basically everything

there were some good lois scenes and i like some scenes tho

moon lovers: scarlet heart ryeo

4/5

one of the most flushed out dramas i’ve ever seen

the leads have chemistry that is off the charts explosive

the drama that made me fall for IU

it takes you through all the emotions

it feels like you’re going through a journey as you watch

perfect cast all around

character developement for almost every character, some for the worse

i took a star off because i felt it could have been done with an episode or two off

it made me ball my eyes out like 5 times

the main cast is incredibly god at acting

crash landing on you

5/5

might be my favorite drama of all time

i literally didn’t have on complaint

the leads have great chemistry

the script is great

the premise is great

it didn’t drag at the end

it has the found family trope

the side characters are flushed out and entertaining

every scene was engaging

the side romance was just as good as the maini r

i experienced all ranges of emotions

the cinematography was just wow

i really enjoyed the female lead’s interactions with the male lead’s friends

the villain was also convincing

#kdrama #boys over flowers #the heirs #oh my venus #strong girl bong soon #my first first love #love alarm #cinderella and the four knights #bride of habaek #moon lovers #crash landing on you #netflix #kdrama recommendations #recommendations

[yelenasdog]

heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)

genre: angst+fluff

summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now

words: 4.06k

warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci

a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling

·。·。·。

“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”

Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.

But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.

“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”

Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.

“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”

Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.

“How’d he die?”

Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.

“Suicide, after the war.”

“And your mother?”

He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.

“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”

The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.

“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.

“Right then.”

The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).

“Welcome to the family, son.”

And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.

He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.

“So, how’d it go?”

It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.

“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”

She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.

She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.

“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.

“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”

She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.

“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.

Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!

So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.

“Arvin?”

He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.

Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.

“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.

And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.

“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.

“You could say that.”

The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.

But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).

“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.”  He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.

“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”

And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.

“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”

They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.

Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.

“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion. 

The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.

As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.

And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.

One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.

“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.

“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.

The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.

“Come again, son?”

Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.

“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”

The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.

“I just thought that after our arrangement-”

“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”

The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.

“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand

“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.

The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.

“Would you die for her?”

“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.

The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.

“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?

Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.

The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.

It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.

It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows. 

When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.

Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.

And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?

“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”

“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”

Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.

“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.

“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”  

Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.

“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”

She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.

“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.

So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.

He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.

He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.

He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.

He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.

“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.

“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.

“That I love her so much.”

Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.

“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”

Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.

“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.

“Long enough.”

There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world. 

Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated. 

Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel. 

“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

·。·。·。

how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself

 xx hj

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #mob!arvin russell #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel x reader #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt imagine #the devil all the time #the devil all the time fic #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #we will rock queue #watch this flop LOL #tw suicide #tw suicide mention #tw cancer #tw family #tw death #tw smoking

[volleychumps]

hellooo hope you’re doing okay! could i request hcs where the reader is a 2nd year manger with kyoko and yachi but she’s a total crack head. so at the training camp when karasuno’s crackheads are doing the meat god dance she joins and bokuto sees and he’s immediately like: i wAnT thAt OnE

That One, I Want That One (Bokuto x Reader)

Thank you for the request!! I love this concept, I hope you enjoy!!

——–

- “Guys…don’t freak out, but…I overheard the senseis’ in the hall and found out…” 

- Kiyoko sweatdrops when you lean on to her shoulder for support, eyes widened in anticipation for what Daichi was about to say as your energetic self bounces on the balls of your feet

- “Y/N-” “Kiyoko, I love you, but Dad’s talking so shHHH.” 

- “I said not to call me dad I- nevermind.” “Does this mean you accept me as your daughter?! Has the day finally come?” 

- “what” “Don’t leave me dadless, Dai! Suga already accepted being my mom, right Suga?” “Yep!”

- “Suga no- Y/N just be quiet.” “…sorry..”

-”…dad.” 

-Daichi flicks you on the forehead without even looking in your direction. “They’re treating us to a barbecue after practice.” 

- Yachi has to catch you from fainting over dramatically as the whole team gapes in shock, Hinata already racing towards you at his peak excitement, leaping his signature high jump as you scramble out of Yachi’s arms to begin bouncing up and down with the hyper wing spiker 

- “Ne, did you hear that (Y/N)-chan?! We’re having meAT.” 

- “Damn, these teachers about to make me aCT UP.” You rub your hands together as Suga and Daichi share a sigh at your actions, warning you to be careful as you leap onto Hinata’s back in excitement 

- you sing a long and jump with Tanaka, Noya, and Hinata, matching their energy as you bend your knees in sync with them, smile widened across your face as the rest of the members either walk away or palm their faces in the opposite direction

- “MEAT IS GOD!!!” “Noya, we should make a human pyramid.” “That’s such a great idea Y/N!! Oi Tsukki, come be the bottom-” “No.”

- “Y/N if you don’t stop I’m disowning you.” “You never let me do anything Suga!”

- Unbeknowst to you, Akaashi had the bridge of his nose pinched between two fingers as his other hand is tightened on an awestruck Bokuto’s collar, knowing his eyes would eventually carry his legs where he was looking

- “Bokuto-” “…Akaashi.” 

- Deadass covers Konoha’s mouth from speaking so he can hear your laugh more clearly, an excited grin spreading out over the muscular boy’s features 

- “That one.” as he shakes Akaashi back and forth, eyes still locked on to your cackling figure as you hide away from the team captain behind the vice captain, Sugawara shielding you from Daichi’s wrath

- “I want that one.” 

- “Did he just say that like she was some kind of toy in a toy store-” “Konoha shut up, their team manager should keep him motivated for our last set.” 

- Akaashi blinks before grasping Bokuto’s shoulder, flashing him a wide thumbs up “You should show her how good you play. For the whole game.”

- “Hey Hey Hey! You already know! She’ll think my cross spike is totally cool, right Akaashi?!” “oh for sure.”

- makes sure to keep you within his peripheral view before he jumps to his monster spike, eyes gleaming with the urge to win against the strong Karasuno team in front of you

- when he sees that his spike had left your jaw agape, he punches the air with twice the amount of energy he usually has

- “…how much to convince her to transfer to our school?” “Konoha no.” 

- so although Karasuno came frighteningly close to winning, Fukurodani emerged victorious thanks to your presence (you didn’t even know lmao)

-but before he can work up the nerve to go up to you ask what you thought of his spikes; you had already leaped up onto Daichi’s back in a piggyback ride as the team filed out for the barbecue 

- “Forward, Dad!” “I will let you go.” “Abuse!” “Daichi, you better not-!” “Suga, we’re not her parents-” “That’s your opinion.”

- slumps a little before Akaashi reminds him with a single pat on the back that he can talk to you during the barbecue 

- legit can’t find the right chance because of the seemingly over-protective co-captains of the Karasuno team guarding you on the low-key from the other boys who thought you were cute

- sees an opportunity when you run away from them to get more food, but can’t work up the courage

- Akaashi literally bumps into him in passing so that he’s standing next to you in front of the grill, Bokuto stumbling forward slightly as you pay no mind

- “I-uh-um-couGH” 

- whole ass has a heart attack when you blink up at him, (E/C) meeting gold before your face breaks out in a huge smile 

- “You’re the captain of Fukurodani, right?” “U-um-” 

- Baby boy is so cute and shy compared to how confident he was during the set 

- “Your spikes were totally awesome!” “R-right? heheh.”

- has to control his breathing as you happily continue to munch on your food, not noticing Bokuto struggling to find the right words before you suddenly place a piece of cooked meat on his plate 

- looks at you, surprised with pinkened cheeks as you smile back at him “For all your hard work!” 

- yep he was in love

- “Y/N come eat your vegetables.” “Dad, I made a new friend!” “stop calling me-” “Here!” 

- Blinks when you thrust your phone towards him, still happily munching an onigiri “Give me your number, you’re super cute. And that’s on god.” 

- Bokuto gapes at the offered device, shaky fingers entering his digits on your phone before handing it back to you, heart hammering in his chest

- “I’ll text you! You better respond…Bokuto, was it? I’m Y/N!” 

- “That’s an awesome name!” he rushes out, feeling the confidence surge through his veins at the fact that you seemed to be interested, picking out a cheesy pick-up line.  “You know what would make it even better?”

- “Hm?” “My last name.” 

- Waits for your reaction, nervously sweating before you throw your head back in a laugh that left the usually boisterous boy staring in awe. “That was good! Very good, I will most certainly text you, Bokuto.” 

- grins at you as Daichi, seeing the whole interaction, picks you up by the collar and forcefully drags you away from the now flirtatious boy

- “You better text me!” he calls out as you manage to laugh and turn your head the other way “You better expect it!” 

- “No boys, Y/N.” “ahAH and you claim to not be my father-” “I’m not.” 

- hangs out with you for the rest of the training camp, leading to stricter team-captains, dragged collars by Akaashi, and secret rendezvous past curfew

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu anime #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #karasuno #fukurodani #haikyuu daichi #haikyuu sugawara #haikyuu crack

[odioart]

Haruhiko Hikimoto x Odio トップをねらえ! (Aim for the Top / GunBuster!)  c o l o r f u l Daicon V: The Gainax Sprit (A virtual Retrospective)  Note* When I think Of Gainax I think of three anime specifically that perfectly encapsulates the Gainax sprit. Those of course being Gunbuster, NGE and, Gurren Lagann. sadly in the west I feel like Gunbuster get's over looked a lot. It is hard to find a hard copy of the OVA outside of Japan. It is not streaming on Netflix or Crunchyroll. It has no Funimation dub. In fact I had to dig pretty deep into some archives to even find decent fodder to work with, as well figuring out who owned what for licensing was kind or an ordeal. Still Gunbuster is a gem of a series. It was the first of many things for the studio. The first time we see what would be known as the "Gainax bounce"  A mecha anime being used as a vehicle for more existential storytelling. Touching on concepts and ideas about space that would later be expounded upon by films like "Interstellar". As well Gunbuster was the directorial debut for  the legendary  Hideaki Anno. I think it is safe to say that Gunbuster was in fact the blueprint that Gainax would follow into the future as well as being one of the best mecha anime ever in my humble opinion. I honestly cannot say enough about it. So if you have never see t please seek it out. It is worth a watch. and I hope you enjoy these colorings I have done of Haruhiko Hikimoto's illustration. These are actual character references and promotional materials used for the OVA. It was cool to get to work with a little piece of Gainax history. Something I hope to continue as this retrospective moves forward. ... Also I would like to take a moment to honor a place that is dear to my heart, and I do not think I can talk about this series without bring it up. That is of course the island of Okinawa. A place who's history is just as sorrowful as is beautiful. A place I think of as a kind of home. So I dedicate this set to the people of Okinawa, and I truly hope to see a day where it will be free to make it's own decisions and celebrate it's own unique and beautiful culture. Thank you for giving me your time, as always. You are appreciated.

#トップをねらえ! #aim for the top #gunbuster #Toshio Okada #gainax #daicon v Gainax Spirit #hideaki anno #Haruhiko Hikimoto #vs #odio #anime #manga #otaku #edit #japanese #Aesthetic #colorful #design #odioart #80's anime #visual #grundge #popart #popculture #mecha #atlartist #htxart #laartist #Tokyo2020

[lucias-moved]

hiii baz the pushing daisies au looks so good!! do you by any chance have any other haikyuu fic recs? i've been trying to find good ones so if you did that'd be cool ❣️ tysm <3

fufu hi yay im happy ur interested!!! and omg. yes i absolutely do i am so glad u asked. not sure if u have any genre or pairing preferences so ill just give some random ones:

sinners by lettersinpetals | sakuatsu 29k enemies to friends to lovers, high school au set in the philippines, focuses on sakusa and his mental health as well as family dynamics. havent read it in a bit but its probably one of my favorites with both writing style and concept

character development by silvercistern | bokuaka 76k fake dating ish, high school/college au set in la county, mainly abt akaashi navigating his senior yr after a big incident the previous year. love love love how this author writes akaashi n this one is phenomenal

any of priorwalter's works | probably one of my fav hq authors i love their characterization and writing style it makes me feel things every time :') they just wrote an osasuna fic too its my beloved<33

till death do us part by sketchedsmiles | 37k osasuna assassins au !!!!! with a twist !!! ughh so good .. for some reason i found like 3 different osasuna assassin aus in a week they were all great i love assassin!suna with my whole heart

tell me we'll never get used to it by sulfate | 1k iwaoi oneshot, warning for body horror bc oikawa can grow plants from his skin. this one is a comfort fic ik its super short but its so soft and sweet

only fools fall for you by crossroadswrite | 9k kagekenhina, everyone has a crush on everyone theyre just kids in love. rly cute and i think this ship has a great dynamic <3

slip of the pen by limeprint, plumii | 6k sunaosa college au, theyre roommates and suna is a writer with many sappy thoughts. poetic and it made me smile a lot :)

dont look now by pancakewars | 5k kuroken kind of angsty? explaining it would give a lot away just know that its a little sad n bittersweet but still nice

ice ice baby by ohwickedsoul | 10k mainly bokuaka w some others, figure skating/hockey au. another comfort fic! seriously the writing is so good and i love skating aus so .

6/10 by cheekybrunette | 19k kagehina canon compliant, but its mostly abt kageyama with a heavy focus on his anxiety. makes me cry because of how much i can relate to it :') (also the rest of the authors hq fics r good too!)

brunch friends series by newamsterdam | multiple pairings, au where like. everyones an adult and has their own jobs n stuff is there a name for this . so fun to read and well written, very heart emoji

#SORRY THERES ONLY ONE KUROKEN FIC I KNOW U LIKE THEM .. i just feel like i rarely find krkn fics i like idk -.- #i rly hope there are at least some u havent read yet -w- #also if u want more totally lmk omg there are so many good recs i could dig out from my ao3 history fhfhfhjf #.asks #haikyuu

[lochtayboatsong]

The Jesus Christ Superstar essay absolutely no one asked for.

Last weekend, I watched the pro-shot of the 2012 arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar starring Ben Forster, Tim Minchin, and Melanie C, because it was Easter and it was up on YT for the weekend.  I never managed to do my annual listen-through of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass this year, as is my usual Easter tradition, so I figured “Why not watch/listen to this instead?”  It was my first time seeing and hearing JCS in full, and Y’ALL, it has been living rent-free in my brain ever since.  I have a mighty need to get my thoughts out, so here they are, in chronological order by song.  

1) Prologue: I love the way JCS 2012 makes use of the arena video screen.  The production design and concept clearly took a lot of inspiration from the “Occupy ______” movement, which makes it feel a bit dated now.  But every single production of JCS is a product of its time period, so this is a feature and not a bug.  

2) Heaven On Their Minds: This is a straight-up rock song.  It wouldn’t be out of place on any rock and roll album released between 1970 and 2021, and it boggles my mind that Webber and Rice were both in their early twenties when they wrote it.  Also, the lyric “You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say” hits hard no matter the year.

3) What’s the Buzz: A+ use of the arena screens again, this time bringing in social media to set the tone.  Also, this song establishes right from the outset that Jesus is burnt out and T I R E D by this point in the story.  Seriously, can we just let this man have a nap?

4) Strange Thing Mystifying: Judas publicly calls out Mary and Jesus claps back.  Folx, get you a partner who will defend your honor the way Jesus defends MM in this scene.  Also Jesus loses his shoes and is mostly barefoot for the remainder of the show.

5) Everything’s Alright: Okay, this is one of the songs I have A LOT to say about.  First, it’s important to know that I was a church musician throughout all of my adolescence and into my early adulthood.  The pianist at the services I usually played at was a top-notch jazz pianist, and also my piano teacher for about six years while I as in high school and undergrad.  (Incidentally, I had a HUGE crush on his son, who was/is a jazz saxophonist and clarinetist and also played in the church band, but that’s a story for another day.)  One of the hymns we played a few times a year was called “Sing of the Lord’s Goodness,” which is notable for being in 5/4 time.  Whenever this hymn was on the schedule, it was usually the recessional, or the last song played as the clergy processed out and the congregation got ready to leave, so we were able to have some fun with it.  After a couple verses the piano player and his son would usually morph it into “Take Five,” a famous jazz standard by Dave Brubeck which is also in 5/4 time.  Anyway, the first time I listened to this song in full, it got to Judas’s line “People who are hungry, people who are starving,” and I sat bolt upright and went “HOLY SHIT THIS IS ‘SING OF THE LORD’S GOODNESS/TAKE FIVE.’”  And I was ricocheted back in time to being fourteen and trying to keep up with this father/son duo in a cavernous Catholic church while simultaneously making heart-eyes at the son.  Final note: This is the only song in the musical to feature all three leads (Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene) and is mostly Jesus and MM being soft with each other in between bouts of Jesus and Judas snarling at one another.

6) This Jesus Must Die: I LOVE that all the villains in this production are in tailored suits.  LOVE IT.  Also, Caiaphas and Annas are a comedy duo akin to “the thin guy and the fat guy,” except in this case it’s “the low basso profundo and the high tenor.”  Excellent use of the arena video screen again, this time as CCTV.

7) Hosanna: My background as a church musician strikes back again.  It honestly took me two or three listens to catch it, but then I had another moment of sitting bolt upright and going “HOLY SHIT THIS IS A PSALM.”  Psalms sung in church usually take the form of call-and-response, with a cantor singing the verses and the congregation joining in for the chorus.  If I close my eyes during this song, I have no trouble imagining Jesus as a church cantor singing the verses and then bringing the congregation in for the “Ho-sanna, Hey-sanna” chorus. 

8) Simon Zealotes: This is part “Gloria In Excelsis” and part over-the-top Gospel song.  Honestly it’s not my favorite, but it marks an important mood change in the show.  The end of “Hosanna” is probably Jesus at his happiest in the entire show, and then Simon comes in and sours the mood by trying to tip the triumphant moment into a violent one.  Jesus is not truly happy again from this moment on.

9) Poor Jerusalem: Also not my fave.  It kinda reads like Webber and Rice realized that Jesus didn’t have a solo aria in Act I, so they came up with this.  But it has the distinction of containing the lyric, “To conquer death you only have to die,” which is the biggest overarching theme of the story.

10) Pilate’s Dream: Pontius Pilate might be the most underrated role in this entire show, and I love that this production has him singing this song while being dressed in judge’s robes.  

11) The Temple: The first half of this is one of the campiest numbers in Act I, at least in this production, and it’s awesome.  The second half is one of the saddest, as Jesus tries to heal the sick but finds there are too many of them.  Also the whole scene is almost entirely in 7/8 time, which I think is just cool.

12) I Don’t Know How To Love Him: Mary Magdalene’s big aria, and one of the songs I knew prior to seeing the full-length show.  This production has MM taking off her heavy lipstick and eye makeup onstage, mid-song, which is kind of cool.  Melanie C says in a BTS interview that MM’s makeup is her armor, so this is a Big Symbolic Moment.

13) Damned For All Time: The scene transition into this song is played entirely in pantomime, and I love it.  The solo guitarist gets to be onstage for a bit, A+ use of the video screen again to show Judas on CCTV, etc.  Love it.  And then this song is Judas frantically rationalizing what he’s doing, and what he’s about to do, with Caiphas and Annas just reacting with raised eyebrows and knowing looks.

14) Blood Money: This is where the tone of the show really takes a turn for the dark.  I think this might be one of Tim Minchin’s finest moments as Judas, because his facial expressions and microexpressions throughout this scene speak absolute volumes.  And the offstage chorus quietly singing “Well done Judas” as he picks up the money is a positively chilling way to end Act I.

15) The Last Supper: Act II begins with major “Drink With Me” vibes.  (Except JCS came WAY before Les Miz, so it’s probably more accurate to say that “Drink With Me” has major “The Last Supper” vibes.)  Jesus and Judas have their knock-down, drag-out fight, and it’s honestly heartbreaking, thanks again to Tim Minchin’s facial expressions.  A well-done production of JCS will really convey that Jesus and Judas were once closer than brothers, even though their relationship is at breaking point when Act I begins.

16) Gethsemane: This is Jesus’s major showpiece and one of my faves.  Jesus knows he has less than 24 hours to live, he knows he’s going to suffer, and worst of all, he doesn’t know whether it’s going to be worth it.  It’s an emotional rollercoaster to watch and to perform, and it goes on for ages: something like 6 or 7 minutes.  Fun fact: the famous G5 is not written in the score.  Ian Gillan, who played Jesus on the original concept album, just sang it that way, so most subsequent Jesuses have also done it that way.  Lindsay Ellis has a great supercut of this on YT.  John Legend notably sang the line as written during the 2018 concert.  

17) The Arrest: Judas’s Betrayer’s Kiss is played differently across different productions.  The 2012 version is pretty tame - I’ve seen clips and gifs of other productions, including the 2000 direct-to-video version, where they kiss fully on the mouth and have to be dragged apart by the guards and it is THE MOST TENDER THING.  Then the 7/8 riff from “The Temple” comes back and the 2012 version lets the video screen do its thing again as Jesus is swarmed by reporters.

18) Peter’s Denial: Not much to say about this one, as it’s basically a scene transition.  But it’s a significant moment in the Passion story, so I’m glad they included it.

19) Pilate and Christ: The 2012 production continues with the theme of Caiaphas, Annas, and Pilate all being bougie af, since Pilate intentionally looks like he just came from tennis practice during this scene.  Also he does pilates...hehehe.

20) King Herod’s Song: Tim Minchin says in a BTS interview that JCS works best when Jesus and Judas are played seriously and the rest of the production is allowed to be completely camp and wild and bizarre all around them, and he is bloody well CORRECT about that.  Case in point: King Herod.  There is not a single production of JCS that I know of where Herod is played “straight.”  He’s been played by everyone from Alice Cooper to Jack Black, and everyone puts a different zany spin on him.  In JCS 2012 he’s a chat show host in a red crushed velvet suit, who is clearly having the time of his LIFE. 

21) Could We Start Again Please: This is another of my faves.  Just a quiet moment where MM, Peter, and the disciples try to grapple with the fact that Jesus is arrested and things are going very, very badly.  This is also my favorite Melanie C moment of the 2012 show.  Her grief is very real, and the little moment she has with Peter at the end is very real.

22) Death of Judas: This is basically Tim Minchin screaming for about five minutes, and incredibly harrowing to watch on first viewing.  

23) Trial Before Pilate: Possibly my single favorite scene in the entire 2012 production.  This is another harrowing watch, but there’s so much to take in.  The “set” that the entire show takes place on is essentially just a massive staircase, and the people with power are almost always positioned above the people without power.  In this scene, the crowd shouting “Crucify Him!” is positioned above Pilate, which is a very telling clue to Pilate’s psychology during this scene.  Jesus is at the very bottom of the stairs, of course.  Excellent use of the video screen once again during the 39 Lashes, to show the lash marks building and building until the entire screen is a wash of red.  Pilate’s counting also gets more and more frantic, especially starting around “20.”  And all the while the guitar riff from “Heaven On Their Minds” is playing.  Jesus’s line “Everything is fixed and you can’t change it” is played quite differently in different productions - here it’s defiant, but elsewhere (in JCS 2000 for example) it’s almost tender, like Jesus is absolving Pilate for his part in the trial.  But it always ends the same - with Pilate almost screaming as he passes the sentence and “washes his hands” of the whole sorry business. 

24) Superstar: The most over-the-top number in the show.  Judas, who died two scenes ago, comes back to sing this.  There are soul singers.  There are girls in skimpy angel costumes.  The parkour guys from the prologue are back.  Judas pulls a tambourine out of hammerspace midway through the song.  And Jesus is silently screaming and crying as he gets hoisted onto a lighting beam while all this is going on.

25) The Crucifixion: More of a spoken-word piece than a song, it’s Jesus’s final words on the cross over eerie piano music, and another harrowing watch.

26) John 19:41: An instrumental piece in which Jesus is taken from the cross and carried, at last, to the top of the stairs, before being lowered out of sight as the video screen turns into a memorial wall and everything fades to black.

So.  I know I’m anywhere from three to fifty-one years late to this particular party, but I am on the JCS bandwagon now and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself.  :)

#jesus christ superstar #jcs 2012 #jcs is all i have been thinking about all week sorry not sorry #ben forster #tim minchin #melanie c #andrew lloyd webber #tim rice