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#at th worse time lmao

musical-chick-13 · 4 months

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Daemon literally choked Rhaenyra on the show and not in a kinky way.

I think I vaguely remember hearing about this?

Which is...certainly something in the face of all the "wife guy" jokes I also and more consistently heard about Daemon.

Also certainly something that the consistent violence by men toward women on GoT was (rightfully) criticized, but I haven't seen reams of Discourse™ about this particular ship.

(Also certainly something else that Cersei was always blamed for every single thing in regard to her relationship with Jaime and you never heard the fucking end of it, but whatever Daemon does is fine for some reason? misogyny the reason is misogyny)

And again. People can ship whatever they want. People can like characters who aren't good people. I don't think this ship (i.e. D/R) would be particularly interesting to me (for a variety of reasons), but I'm not going to say that someone is a Horrible Person™ for shipping it. Just don't try to weirdly moralize a dynamic like this by saying that it has no problems? To the point where it's some strange Exception™ to what you would otherwise consider a completely unacceptable thing to explore in fiction? Genuinely, what does that accomplish. It really is just the hypocrisy for me.

You can like a fraught or unhealthy or problematic or [insert similar adjective here] fictional dynamic. I like plenty of those. But I don't understand this trend of going, "Well my preferred type of Dark Fictional Content is acceptable and fine for THESE arbitrary reasons. The rest of you should burn in hell for the Dark Fictional Content YOU enjoy though," and it is starting to get insufferably annoying.

#multi t(ASK)ing #tw: incest mention #tw: domestic violence #tw: choking #I did not fight in the TRENCHES for YEARS and get HARASSED AT CONS for people to turn around and pull this shit lmao #(still thinking of that one time I got hit on with an incest joke BY A PANEL MODERATOR IN FRONT OF AN AUDIENCE because I was #cosplaying cersei.......truly you can't make this shit up)#you really can just say 'this example of this narrative device worked for me and this other one didn't' and leave it at that. no one #will die if you do that I promise. it's really easy.#you can also say 'I like exploring [x] topic and not [y] topic'. this is also really easy and no one will die if you do it.#and like. again 'a man is flawed a woman is a one-dimensional bitch' we know this we know this is how fandom operates #but I think there's also something to be said here about pRoBLeMaTiC m/f dynamics where the man is considered the worse person #vs where the woman is considered the worse person. the first one is interesting and edgy-in-a-cool-way and somehow becomes #generally palatable to a large portion of the audience. and the second is...you're the devil incarnate for finding it interesting. or at th #very least you will be disparaged/made fun of if not outright harassed for having any kind of positive reception to it. (and then a lot #of times if it's a show they'll extend this behavior to the irl actresses who play these characters)#salty mc13 is salty #and I REALLY don't want this to come across as me saying 'anyone who likes this character is Automatically A Raging Misogynist'#or 'if you find something interesting in this dynamic you Inherently Suck As A Person' I'm just tired of how wildly fucking inconsistent #ya'll (general fandom 'you' I mean) are in regard to how you evaluate and process fiction. either you think this topic is Always Bad #To Write About or you don't. you don't get to say Always Bad Except For The Times I Enjoy It that's not how it works that's not how #media/literary analysis works!!!!!

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courtmartialme · 2 months

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some examples i can think of brotherhood crimes of doing riza(and royai) dirty in my opinion that's the absolute truth in the universe. consciously excluding stuff i think are minor but annoy me just as bad or else this post would be too exhausting:

being ugly in general

not including her time travel joke from when they learn that the elrics are kids and not adults on their way to recruiting them

not including the scene where roy meets her after she calls him when she meets barry the chopper and threatens to burn him out of jealousy

changing the dialogue after roy saves her from gluttony from:

to:

LIKE...... if brotherhood has the habit of cutting off scenes to make it shorter then WHY they would change this scene to become BIGGER AND WORSE. the dialogue in manga is a clear example of their trust and wordless care for each other. while in broho it's just ?????? roy being an asshole????? to his wife?????? whom he just left his post running for bc he sensed she was in danger???? whoever chose to change this dialogue. kill yourself

riza being nice to alphonse when they are at 3rd laboratory:

not including the only time in the whole series roy calls her by her first name only:

the WHOLE ishval arc. riza telling ed about ishval lasts a whole ass volume while it's barely an entire episode in anime like... hm.. for starters the way roy and riza meet again there is different. in manga she saves roy and hughes from a surprise attack, and only realizes it's roy when she sees him through the scope. then hughes tells roy that they brought a talented sniper from the academy and goes after her to thank her for saving them. in anime riza suddenly shows up to roy when he was talking to hughes and like... not necessarily a bad thing i guess but...... yeah.... also this whole conversation is cut off if i remember right.. among a lot of other things LOL i hate how ishval arc is played down in BH

riza being funny and cute not being included again

this scene when they reach 3rd lab again in promised day and roy jokes about wanting to see her honest tears again and riza replies saying water makes him useless BUT in manga she's all cute and blushy while in anime they make her be all # girlbaws about it because that's all brotherhood riza is about lmao they took away her moeness...crime

in manga, after roy gives up killing envy upon realizing it would lead to riza shooting him then killing herself, it shows him lowering her gun without the glove he previously had on. symbolizing that he lowered his weapon before he could lower hers. in anime he still has his gloves on

EDIT I FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT PANEL OF THEM ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RIZA BEING INSUBORDINATE AND A BRAT SHE'S SO CUTE THIS PANEL IS WHAT INSPIRED MY USERNAME... SHE'S SO CUTE...... brotherhood is so scared of letting riza be cute and moe because she would be too powerful if they let her

EDIT 222222 BECAUSE I WOKE UP IN COLD SWEAT AT REMEMBERING I FORGOT THIS TOO

roy visits madame christmas' bar looking down and she asks him why doesn't he and elizabeth go someplace fun... we all know who elizabeth is right... and he says miserably that another man took elizabeth away from him(referring to riza being kept hostage by bradley) and at that the other girl asks if that means she has a chance with him now. everyone knows that roy is so wifepilled he won't look any other way if riza is in the picture lmao also how embarrassing it is that even your mom knows you're fucking your subordinate

i'm convinced somebody at BH staff hated riza's ass because of how often riza and royai scenes are changed or ignored... i know it's common for anime adaptations to cut off moments from manga but for an anime that whole premise is to be The Better Adaptation, doing it so often makes it bad to me. if you repeatedly exclude scenes that tell more about the characters because they're "not relevant to the plot", eventually there will be no actual personality left, only characters that are plot props

THERE'S A LOT MORE i wanted to include but this is already long enough and i got tired LMFAO a lot of things(most not included) are non issues because are mostly about riza being a bit silly, or showing more expression than she does in anime in a scene that otherwise doesn't change anything. but they still annoy me because by repeatedly excluding and changing these moments add to the view people have of her being nagging and stoic, at an attempt to make her a cool flawless Good Woman Character. what for.

#tecotalk #fma #riza hawkeye #throwing in the tag because fuck it #not hiding anything under the cut everyone will be subjected to this

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scrupulosity-comics · 9 months

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hey is racism one of your obsessions? also white and ocd. if it is, how u cope with it? i'm really afraid all the time to hurt my loved ones who are black people, and they're the majority of my loved ones. and how do u identify whats racism from whats an intrusive thought?

Most of my race-related OCD is abstract stuff like “if I move out of my parents’ house and try to live my own life outside of their control, I will have to find somewhere I can afford to pay rent, which will probably mean moving into a low-income neighborhood, which would mean inadvertently helping to gentrify the community, which would gradually push the original residents out of their homes and disrupt community ties and support systems and creating housing insecurity, so therefore I can’t move out or move on”.

I think that’s just part of a larger existential terror that I can only ever make the world worse by living in it—a net harm to the universe, molecule by misspent molecule.

I have been letting this ask sit in my inbox for weeks now because I’m convinced that anything I say will be destructive. What if my answer enables or excuses racism? What if my answer fuels the anguish of the mentally ill?

The rational and compassionate part of my mind insists that your loved ones (and mine!) understand that you (and I) are white, and have likely dealt with white peoples all their lives, and are capable of judging for themselves whether you are good to them and deserving of their intimacy. It is impossible to go through life without hurting and being hurt by people you care about—always you will have blindspots and miscommunications and competing needs. That’s just part of the curse of consciousness and being a social species. We all get a little blood on our hands eventually, one way or another… friendship involves knowing this, accepting this, and committing to avoid it and then, that failed, to make things right.

Again: your friends know you’re white. They have reason to expect the best of you or they wouldn’t be your friends. They choose to have you in their lives; trust them to trust you, and to recognize the difference between a beloved friend struggling with a treacherous and unkind brain and doing their best in an inescapably racist society, and a racist who whose bigotry makes them unworthy of their time and affection.

I do think racism obsessions are a particularly difficult manifestation of OCD to cope with because they’re hard to discuss at all without feeling like you’re implicitly asking for absolution. With other types of OCD, it’s common to seek reassurance that what you’re obsessively afraid of isn’t true—but what feels more racist than asking someone to reassure you that you’re not racist…? LMAO.

They say the “cure” to OCD, such as it is, is just to learn how to embrace the existential horror of uncertainty. Tall fucking order. Hell on Earth! But in a bizarre way I have found the rhetoric that “everyone is unconsciously and incurably racist” to be unexpectedly helpful… there is no total psychological purging and mental purification we can undergo, no amount of ritual self-flagellation that will drive the demons out, no pristine state we can aspire to and hate ourselves for soiling. Only mundane everyday commitments to compassion and empathy and solidarity and cleaning up our messes. But even then, a thought isn’t a mess. A thought I’d not a thing that happened or a choice you made. It doesn’t represent an alternate timeline branching off into a parallel universe where you have acted on it and hurt people.

Earlier this year I was playing a video game—during my lunch break I got to wondering what happened if you failed a skill check that I had passed in my own playthough, so I looked up a clip on YouTube and was so triggered by the answer (the player character calls his companion a racial slur in the heat of the moment, without meaning to, even if you’ve played him as a committed anti-racist) that I immediately spiraled and was close to throwing up in the broom closet, and when I got home I opened my own save and tried to make the player character kill himself as catharsis. It was an incredibly unreasonable guilt response to a completely fictional scenario that I hadn’t even gotten in my own playthrough, but in retrospect it was a safe way to explore fear of my own internalized racism hurting somebody and what might happen if my intrusive thoughts came true. It sucked and it was terrible and I was angry at myself for being crazy about it, but it ended up being a small dose of exposure therapy and practice at not repenting for nonexistent through self-abuse.

I dunno. This has been a long uncomfortably personal ramble but I hope it’s helpful. I don’t know if your friends know you have OCD (or how it manifests) and I don’t know whether telling them would help. But allowing yourself to trust others to trust you is far more useful than beating yourself up for thoughts you don’t want. I have on occasion warned people that I am cautious about doing certain things with them—particularly drinking—because there is a risk that I may spiral and show symptoms humiliating and uncomfortable to both of us, and I don’t want to put them in a position where they witness or feel like they have to help me manage the white guilt elements of my disorder. These conversations have usually gone well, and the mutual understanding to boundaries takes some of the tension out, which seems to reduce the triggers. It’s messy and awkward and maybe it limits who is willing to be friends with me, but IMHO it’s better than surprising someone.

As for determining whether something is an intrusive thought or actual racism, I guess my answer is: does it matter? Would you manage them differently? Intrusive thoughts may be an evil voice in your brain, but racism is an evil voice in society’s brain.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

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🤠 🫶 :

Oh my god….

And Kortac’s enemies don’t understand where The Terror™ went, what could possibly have taken down a monster like that…König’s been even more menacing and violent and awful for several months now, taking every mission possible like he’s determined to destroy and kill everything he can, and there’s rumors he’s started literally ripping his opponents in half on the battlefield, and now he’s just...gone? So oh god, is there something worse out there??? Who is this who got to THAT behemoth of all people?? The rumors! The suspense! The horror!

Quick camera pan to reader, just singing to herself as she bakes some goodies to take to the sweet giant Austrian soldier (lmao she’s too forgiving, maybe she chalked up the “cunt licking” incident to a fluke, she’ll just have to be even MORE careful about where she lets him touch, he seems to get too excited). She just wants to do something nice for him, the poor man has been holed up in his company’s sick bay with something (turns out having your brain, heart, and cock explode are not good for your health, but “Blue balled into oblivion” is not something you can actually get diagnosed with, so it’s like…blood pressure issues or something).

König really should be more mindful of his health, tsk tsk.

Oh god this just gets better and better, she's worse than all his enemies combined, and she's baking for our poor broken soldier?! This is too cute 😭💞 (oh and 'tease mother'?? I want this to be my new middle name lol!)

Sweet innocent reader also heard König got into a weightlifting accident. On top of all the exploded body parts, dude sprained his back really bad trying to do a deadlift PR with all the 55 lbs plates he could stack on the bar.

Unfortunately the metal gave up before König, it broke in half in the middle of his lift, and rumours say the whole stunt was actually a cry for help, a suicide attempt, even… But no one will ever know because this man is not what you could exactly call a genius 🫡 So maybe it truly was an accident?

And of course sweet reader bakes him some yummy delicacies to cheer him up!

But oh uh. König almost cowers in his bed when he sees her. He goes completely still as sweet reader approaches him in her cutest outfit ever, smiling like an angel and with a box full of muffins in her hands.

She floats next to his bed like the most innocent butterfly ever, opens the lid so that the cozy scent of baked goodies fills the entire room. Then she picks the biggest, most plump chocolate chip muffin from that box and folds his mask over his nose to give him a taste.

Her movements are those of a ballet dancer as she brings the glorious treat to his lips… but it's her breasts his gaze falls to as she leans forward and gives him an abundant view of the two globes of pure sin, pressed together under the neckline far too wide for her usual wear.

Does this woman even know what she is doing to him...?

Is she fucking deliberately teasing him?

His mouth opens just for the sake of that mouthwatering view, and she takes it as a cue of him wanting her to stuff his mouth full of muffin.

"There we go," she says approvingly as he takes a bite while staring at her breasts, hovering there not even an arms length away. "I made them extra sweet for you…"

The ample view of her soft tits right there in front of him while his mouth is full of melting chocolate is truly a new plane of hell. Were she to turn around to look, she would see the tallest, most vicious tent forming there beside her as his cock juts up under the sheet in all it's glory.

The muffin is still warm, and she licks the extra grease from her fingers when she's done feeding him. He imagines she's licking his cum off of those fingers instead, and almost groans from the dull pain the mere vision sends to his crotch.

"Don't worry. I know you'll be up in no time, King," she chimes and gives him an exceptionally flirty smile. Whatever new torture methods are being used on him now, he hopes to all the gods that the sweet girl won't look behind her. He will just be shamed and scolded for being hard again.

It's absurd and kind of sad how much he has changed since he met her... He feels equal to the mighty Prometheus, bound to an invisible rock and being tortured night after night after night. It almost brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh. My sweet hero… Are you in pain?" She caresses his face through the mask with genuine pity and worry. A teary hiccup is trying to push up his throat, but he forces it down.

Plump breasts and overly sweet muffins and an innocent woman calling him 'King' and 'hero'? Fussing about his health, thinking it's his back that's giving him pain… A tiny little tear almost, almost escapes the corner of his eye as he gives her a tiny, miserable nod.

"Poor thing. You know, I've been thinking…" she bites her lip, takes a deep breath too, sending those breasts swell inside her shirt and giving his cock another demanding pull.

"I really like you," she continues. "And I've finally decided. I want you to be my first."

Was zur Hölle…

His eyes go wide, but otherwise, he's still. The girl dares to give him a peaceful smile while his mind goes slowly blank from the voiceless, internal scream.

What the fuck has he done to deserve this?

She's finally ready, and he has broken his back so profoundly that there will be no moving for weeks. No exercise, no sudden movements, certainly no pounding her sweet, wet virgin pussy to his heart's content.

"We just need to wait until you get better. Doctor's orders!" she chirps as she softly boops his nose.

#answered #yandere könig #könig x virgin reader #lol #torture torture torture #poor boi #lack of movement is not good for him #he can't even kill people #should we at least give him a handjob? 🥺

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onlyswan · 1 year

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summary: in which alcohol plus k-drama is equals to your and jungkook’s tears.

> fluff / wc: 4k

> warnings: oc’s first attempt at becoming a pro bartender lmao they both drink alcohol!!, alchemy of souls spoilers!! (they watch the ending of part 2), mention of a stab and blood, they cry over character deaths together >:( (sike?) maybeee a little surprise bc jk is so in love y’all idk what else to say </3 💍

note: welcome to the result of my jungkook + aos brainrot. you can read more of inwhich!jk in glasses in this drabble. :D thank you anonie who sent this ask! + as always i’d appreciate it a lot if you lmk if you enjoyed mwamwa <3

—

“i miss my boyfriend.” you sigh dramatically as you slump over the dining table, popping a vodka-soaked cherry in your mouth.

despite being hopelessly in love, you and jungkook don’t necessarily feel obliged to spend every second of every day with each other. of course, it was different at the early stages of your relationship, when you had to cross oceans and move mountains to spend time together, even if it meant hugging for only ten minutes and parting ways again.

however, things changed when you started living under one roof. the burning passion of your love isn’t dying down, no. in fact, you would go as far as saying that it is growing more gracefully ardent. after all, there is no greater peace than knowing that at the end of the day, wherever the street signs and the unmarked paths may lead you to, you and jungkook choose to come home to each other’s arms. is this not the real honeymoon phase, as they like to call it?

he left early this sunday morning to attend a small reunion with his childhood friends in busan, while you spent the day reading a book and painting the numbers one to ten of the little paint by numbers kit you stumbled upon at the book store last week.

it’s a sunny day on an abundant island, with a lighthouse standing close to the edge. and maybe, just maybe, you regret ignoring the simple flower bouquet beside it because the details drawn on this canvas are the literal definition of tiny. you ended up feeling dizzy by afternoon because of the strain it caused to your fucked up vision.

to make matters worse, the doorbell rung at around 5pm, and a minute later you were already unboxing the basics cocktail set you ordered two days ago. it includes a 18- and 28-ounce shaker set, jigger that has a dual-side (ounce and two-ounce) pourers, strainer, muddler, and bar spoon.

to summarize what you’ve been doing with your life lately: you’re trying to explore the random things you’ve always been curious about, in hopes that they’ll help you find new hobbies and interests.

you thought about baking, but jungkook already does that, and quite frankly, you’re not at a place in your life where you have a high capacity for the patience it requires. mixing drinks, on the other hand, takes a relatively shorter time to do. and what makes it even more enticing is that you can take a shot whenever you mess up, as if you’re playing a drinking game.

there’s no better way to spend your sunday evening, right?

“baby, why the hell are all the alcohol outside of the cabinets?”

right… except you’re already intoxicated… and the world is spinning. you’re desperately yearning to hug jungkook, so he can make it stop, but you’re not even sure if he’s coming home or he’s staying over at his parent’s house for the night.

you react belatedly to the confused voice, lifting your head to squint at the man who grabbed a bottle of white wine from the cluttered countertop.

“hey, who are you? the bar is closed. put that down.”

he laughs lightheartedly when he realizes how drunk you’ve gotten. as he places it back down, the bottle clinks against the cold white stone. your heavy head collapses on top of your outstretched arm as he walks towards the opposite side of the dining table.

you open your eyes, one before the other, when you feel a presence hogging your space. a sheepish smile curves your lips as the beautiful face of your dear beloved greets you.

jungkook’s prescription glasses moves with his scrunched up nose as he grins at you playfully. “it’s the boyfriend you said you were missing.”

you reach out for him as soon as he finishes saying the sentence, silently asking to be embraced. slaves to your touch — his hands, which are resting on the sharp edge of the table and the top rail of your chair, eagerly slip down to encircle your waist.

you lazily lean your cheek on his shoulder, revelling in his welcoming body warmth. “why are you back early? aren’t you tired? you should’ve just rested at your house.”

“mhmm, i had to.” he hums, deep and raspy voice making his chest vibrate against yours. “we talked about marriage and all that jazz. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

with an airy huff, you pull away to glare up at him childishly. “i sure hope you’re not thinking about anybody else.”

he runs his tongue across his lips, unconsciously tugging at the silver lip ring with his teeth, but his loving smile stays. “you know that you’re the only one for me.”

“still! i like to hear it from you sometimes.” you giggle before taking a sip from a cold glass of cherry limeade, a refreshing treat you’ve been enjoying since before he arrived.

“vodka?”

“vodka.”

you swallow once more before handing him the glass, swaying your feet under the table as the delicious mixture of sweet and tart permeates your tongue.

“mhmm, wow!” he exclaims after taking a sip, tilting the glass a little bit to the side to look at the light red beverage with knitted eyebrows. “wait a minute- why is this so good?!”

you excitedly tug at the hem of his sweatshirt, begging for more pats on the head. “i had a lot of fun using the shaker.”

he lightly kicks out the chair to your right so he can take a seat, shrugging off the backpack full of clean clothes you packed for him last night incase he wanted to stay longer in busan.

“i did well with this one, right?”

he enthusiastically nods in response as he takes another gulp, chewing on the block of ice that also managed to slip inside his mouth. you melt into his affectionate touch when he cups your cheek with his delicate palm.

“maybe making drinks has been your specialty all along.”

you frown in disagreement. “i’m not sure. i made bloody mary before that one and i don’t know if i did something horribly wrong or it’s just supposed to taste that disgusting.”

amused laughter racks his body as he takes in the endearing sight of your genuinely downcast expression. you jut out your bottom lip in annoyance.

“it really tasted like poison! i got goosebumps!”

“shit, now i’m scared of you actually getting alcohol poisoning.” the back of your hand is rewarded with a sweet kiss by jungkook’s vodka-stained lips. the wide doe eyes behind his glasses meet yours curiously. “your hand smells like coffee.”

“oh- oh! the dalgona martini!” you rip your hand away from his to point at the martini glass standing at the very center of the dining table. “i just finished that. it should still be cold.”

he carefully slides the glass towards him to avoid spillage, fascinated lips forming a pout as he observes the thick portion of dalgona sitting on top of the mixed baileys and vodka. he didn’t even notice it at all because it’s almost the same color as the wood. has his vision gotten that bad?

“this looks yummy. you haven’t tried it yet?”

you shake your head, which you instantly regret because your vision blacks out momentarily. you swallow thickly as you attempt to blink away the shiny, swirly shapes dancing infront of your eyes.

“fuck, no. i already had classic martini, and mule. i’ll throw up.”

“jesus christ, baby. how many drinks did you try making?” jungkook finds himself so worried that he harshly takes off his glasses without reason, putting it aside on the table.

you giggle loudly at his reaction, using your folded arms as a pillow. “that’s all! i promise! besides, didn’t you drink with your friends, too?”

his face glows with uncontainable fondness at the mention of his friends.

“i was talking and laughing the whole time that i didn’t even finish half of my beer.”

your hazy eyes study his jovial and carefree features, and just like magic, they make your heart feel lighter inside your chest. heavens know that you wish for nothing more in the world than to see him this happy everyday.

“i’m so glad you had a great time, my love.”

“me too. i’ll tell you all about it when you’re sober and capable of memory retention.” he pokes fun at your drunken state as he picks up the glass of dalgona martini.

you roll your eyes before impatiently guiding the drink to his mouth. “just drink it already.”

“oing?” he blinks in disbelief, sipping on the glass again as if his tongue could’ve possibly fooled him the first time. ”i actually like this one more. i didn’t expect that.”

you abruptly perk up in your seat upon witnessing his candid review. “what? you’re joking!”

of course… you’re cursed. it had to be the one you hated making the most.

truth be told, you impulsively made the dalgona martini simply because it’s the only drink in the last online blog you found that you had the complete ingredients for.

you were obviously not prepared enough for this activity. but baileys, vodka, sugar, coffee, and water? yeah, any house would definitely have those.

then came your ridiculous dilemma: despite being intoxicated, you’re still terrified of using the electric whisker. and so, you had to do the whisking the hard way. to put it lightly, it was absolute hell. your arms and wrists are sore after shaking and whisking vigorously for the past three hours.

“it’s exactly what i needed after a long trip.” he moans. his shoulders spring up in delight as he licks off the foam around his lips, and you use your thumb to brush it away from the spots he missed.

jungkook grabs your hand before you could pull away, making you audibly gasp when he sucks at your thumb in his cold mouth. his insatiable tongue pokes the inside of his cheek after.

“uh- i think i tasted a hint of soap.”

“‘course you did. i just washed the dishes, you dummy.”

his pink lips part open as he processes your words, but he quickly brushes it off with a shrug. he noisily takes another sip from the glass.

“i can just clean it off my tongue with more martini.” he argues with a dimpled grin.

he grants you with a quick kiss, smudging the foam on his lips and transferring some of it to yours.

“ugh, you’re so sloppy!”

his laughter echoes in your home as he walks away. “i’m taking this with me to the bathtub!”

“don’t take an hour in there again.” you grumble out a complaint. “we need to watch alchemy of souls!”

—

“even if you decide to seal that door, i know how heartbreaking it will be for you, so it does not upset me so much.”

the flashback from four episodes ago confirms that it was foreshadowing this moment — park jin had sealed the door of jinyowon, a deep cave where relics are protected so they won’t unleash life-threatening dangers upon the world outside. lady jin and maidservant kim are stuck inside the collapsing sanctuary, holding back said relics from escaping… and the latter is none other than his wife-to-be.

jungkook anxiously bites the nails of his thumb and pinky finger, switching back and forth. the television screen reflects on the lens of his glasses as his eyes become shiny with tears.

“is this really the final episode? there’s no season three?”

“no, it ends tonight.” you reply in between embarrassing loud sobs, attention trained to the man mournfully calling out his lover’s name over and over again as he clutches her engagement ring to his chest.

the hot tears you fail to catch stream down to your temples, and then your boyfriend’s naked stomach. you’ve comfortably settled on the bed after finishing your nightly routines. your head is lying by the bottom of his ribcage, and that’s where the other edge of the cozy blanket enveloping the two of you rests. you grabbed a small portion of the cotton in a loose fist, and you’ve been keeping it close to wipe your tears with.

“oh my god, i can’t fucking do this. my head is being split open.”

you toss aside the remote control after pausing the episode, crawling to the nightstand to pop the painkiller in your mouth, which you prepared to be supposedly taken tomorrow morning. maybe you’ve sobered up a little, but the combination of the alcohol and the woeful crying have resulted to an agonizing migraine.

with his long and slender fingers, your boyfriend removes the hair that stuck to your tear-stained face before tenderly wiping your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“making my baby fucking cry, too. i need that son of a bitch jin mu to burn in hell.” he curses to release his pent-up anger from the past 29 episodes, referring to the main antagonist of the series. the harshness of his tone contrasts the gentle kiss that lingers at the corner of your lips.

after drinking water, you wipe away jungkook’s tears with tissue paper, gingerly dabbing at the sides of his nose as well. he has a very sensitive skin, and because tears do contain salt, they can cause slight irritation and stinging when he cries. it’s something he once quietly complained about in passing, but somehow, it stuck with you throughout the years.

“does it hurt a lot?” he worriedly caresses the back of your head.

you meekly nod in response.

“should we just watch the rest of it tomorrow then?”

“noooo.” you drag out the word, shifting on the bed to return to your previous position. “my pain is nothing to compared park jin’s pain. i must persevere.”

and just like that, your tired eyes begin to water again. jungkook chuckles, affectionately holding your face in his hands. he isn’t surprised to find your skin to be warmer than normal.

“aigoo, your eyes are so red. at least put your glasses back on.”

“fine.” you mumble in defeat as you pat around the mattress, looking for the glasses you haphazardly threw aside when your intense emotions started to take control over you.

his rosy cheeks rise like buns in an oven as he smiles. “i love it when we match.”

—

park jin stands before the greedy individuals who conspired to steal the foundation of jinyowon, the fire bird, which dries up the world when it is awakened. it will be used in a rain ritual to create another ice stone, a ball of energy similar to that of the sun or a star. and to point out the obvious, having it in your possession would mean becoming the most powerful being there is.

“evil always does what it wants without ever stopping. but why is it that virtue always needs to prove itself over and over again?”

“…yes. i do wish to save her. i would do anything to save her, even if it meant i would lose my sanity. but even so, i will stop you from getting what you want. not a single one of you has the right to laugh at me… and call me… a hypocrite.”

you feel jungkook shiver below you. he is immensely engrossed with the actor’s phenomenal performance, flawlessly depicting what ‘seething’ anger means. he puts his tattooed arm underneath his head to get a closer view of the subtitles. these have to be some of the best written lines he’s heard from this show so far, and he hopes to remember them by heart.

the two of you watched with bated breath when he starts fighting against several warriors, and then it happens… jin mu removes the barrier of the fire bird as a threat.

“oh, fuck you!” you kick your feet in annoyance.

park jin is forced to focus his energy on re-sealing the fire bird, leaving him vulnerable to the attacks of his merciless opponents.

“no, no, no.” jungkook chants under his breath, heart thundering with fear. “this can’t be happening.”

you know what is bound to happen. they did show three coffins at the end of episode nine. but denial denial denial is a stage of grief after all, and so, with a broken sob, you squeeze your eyes shut.

when your eyelids flutter open, a sword has already been driven through the center of his chest, and dark red blood uncontrollably spills from his mouth. jin mu spitefully pulls it out from behind before he weakly falls on the ground. jungkook stays quiet, it happens so fast but he feels suspended in time, while your horrified crying carries on.

you unwillingly remove your head from his chest before you can cry a river over his shirtless torso, opting to sit up beside him.

“bunch of cowards.” he couldn’t resist mocking as the group scrambles to leave the place before it completely burns down, jin mu taking re-sealed fire bird along with them.

park jin jolts awakes coughing up blood. he painfully forces himself to lie on his back, and the camera reveals that he’s been holding maidservant kim’s ring all along. with trembling hands, he puts the ring on himself. you cover your own mouth as you listen to his worn out sobs.

a look of love and admiration shines on his dull eyes, and you swear that he smiles softly, before his arms fall limp on the dusty ground.

is the moon watching? and the stars? have they ever witnessed something so gutwrenchingly tragic?

“he wore the ring on his pinky! and it didn’t even fit halfway!” your glasses is left abandoned beside you again as you finally allow yourself to weep freely.

seeing that you clearly need a break after that heartbreaking scene, jungkook pauses the episode.

“that’s so cute, but-” you hiccup. “this is so unfair. they were supposed to get married and have babies!”

“oh, baby. i know.” he coos softly, hugging your side and peppering your cheek with kisses. his own tears drip from his chin and he brushes them away with the back of his hand. “their souls will be together in after life though, don’t you think?”

you gradually grow quiet and calm at the thought he proposed, but- “i don’t think they can make babies there.”

“shit.” he chuckles as his forehead lands over your shoulder, glasses slightly sliding down his nosebridge. “you’re right.”

“this is too much. i can’t-” you blow your nose in sheets of tissue paper before throwing them in the bin you dragged next to the bed earlier. “it hurts so much. they just wanted a peaceful life together.”

the two of you grieve for the what if’s and what could’ve been’s. he can’t possibly think of anything more tragic than being forced in a position to choose between the love of your life and the humanity; only to end up perishing at the hands of the evil who made you do it.

and what did he have left? a lifetime’s worth of love to take with him to the grave, and whatever’s left of his pride and dignity? jungkook wouldn’t want any of those. he only wants you.

he lifts up his head, a small smile playing on his lips, swollen and cherry-colored from the nervous nibbles of his bunny teeth. “we’re crying like this and they’re not even the main characters.”

“need to sue the writers for emotional damages.” you groan, tense muscles slowly relaxing in your boyfriend’s embrace. “how many minutes left?”

“40 minutes.”

“i can’t even open my eyes anymore. sorry, babe. my head-”

it’s almost as if it’s been dunked underwater. the throbbing pain spreads numbing pressure from your temples to the back of your head.

“i told you we can finish it tomorrow. it’s fine.”

jungkook briefly leaves your side. the television screen turns black after he pulls out the plug. he throws away the crumpled tissue papers, and then he places your glasses on the safety of the nightstand.

“how cute… don’t fall asleep on me yet.” he fondly coos at your half-asleep figure. “you’re dehydrated. drink some water first.”

a straw pokes your lips. with your eyes shut closed, you hold onto his wrist to steady the tumbler as you take a long sip. by the time you let go, the water has reached the line indicating that there’s only three quarters of it left.

you softly fall back on your pillow with a ‘thump’, turning your back on him to face his empty side of the bed. he also drinks his share of the water before filling in the blank beside you.

he hums in acknowledgement when you pull at his arm to make it your personal pillow, leaving his own glasses on the nightstand as well before facing you.

you give him a small hazy smile, threading your fingers through his soft and luscious hair. “love your pretty and healthy hair.”

“i love you.” he whispers like a confession as he strokes the back of your head. “close your eyes now.”

“i love you, too.” with a peaceful sigh, you nuzzle your face against his chest. “jungkook?”

“hmmm?”

“were you happy today?”

a lump grows in his throat, bigger than the one he felt when he was browsing through engagement rings online. emerald cut, cushion cut, round cut. sapphire, ruby, diamond. size 4, 4.5, 5, 5.5, 6, 6.5… he was hanging on the thin line that separated excitement and anxiety. the two-hour train ride passed by like a radio song he didn’t pay attention to. but you don’t need to know about that. not right now.

he swallows it down, embracing you tighter. “i still am… happy. if i delete those scenes from my memory.”

“me too.” you mumble before succumbing to the void of darkness beneath your heavy eyelids.

—

between the alcohol and the coffee that he simultaneously drank, it looks like the latter won the upper hand. more than twenty minutes later, jungkook is still wide awake, overcome by his clamorous thoughts. the conversations he had with his friends echo in his mind, and he paces back and forth between your shared past and future. the future… there is no future if there is no you.

he closes his eyes, instructing himself to focus on the steady rise and fall of your chest instead of the things he cannot control.

he kisses the top of your head. “i love you so much.”

however, he won’t be able to sleep peacefully until he learns what happens next. he needs the closure because he would truly despise having a bad dream about them. after all, they didn’t show maidservant kim dying. there is a glowing firefly of hope he’s been enchanted to follow into the abyss of the night.

with careful movements, he wears his glasses and his wireless earbuds. he holds his phone using the arm you’re lying on, while his hand under the blanket absentmindedly rubs your back, palm smoothly running up and down the expanse of your skin.

his jaw slacks open only three minutes after he picked up where you left off. jang uk, the male lead of the show, reveals to those grieving infront of the three empty coffins that their loved ones did not pass away.

the following scene unveils park jin, alive yet unconscious on a bed, and maidservant kim who is holding his ring-clad hand, weeping for the traumatic night the two of them suffered.

jungkook chuckles in great relief, blinking away the tears from his glassy eyes.

“fuck, they’re alive.”

—

“fuck, they’re alive!” you almost choke on the haejangguk, a hangover soup, that you started to heartily eat not even two minutes ago. “i almost died crying last night and it turns out that they lied to me?!”

jungkook chooses to feign ignorance. he innocently watches the screen with his wide doe eyes, bunny teeth biting at the rim of his glass of white milk.

“wow, i’m speechless.“ he squeaks out. “how did they even get rescued?”

—

taglist! @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @jeonqkooks-main @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @rkie @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader @seagulljk @yeow6n @yoonqkiss @hopeworldjimin @lllucere @unnatae @zqynmlk @bxbyyyjocelyn @zkdlllin @koostarcandy @tswisal1 @fragmentof-indifference @laylasbunbunny @jjk-jeongirl @cherishoshi @taexidriver @luaspersona @yn-lifeu @loveejkk @bloopkook @babyboo22 + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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obae-me · 1 month

Note

Omg Hi!!! It has been so long since I have seen you on my dash! How are you doing love? I hope you are doing super well ^.^ I recently saw your Mc with trauma post. I loved it so much, and it has also given me a lot to mull over the past few days lol.

Honestly I love the idea of a traumatized Mc and the brothers feeling like absolute shit for the way they treated them in the beginning... but yk another part of me wonders when I imagine my own traumas in that scenario... that for people (the bros- literal demons) who have faced so many things and traumas in their own lives, whether my feelings or pain is even comparable to that. Ik you can't compare things like that and the brothers would probably even be mad if I think of my feelings this way since it's the "Ohhhh someone always has it worse. It's not even that bad so just suck it up" self-deprecating part of me. Despite knowing ALL THAT I can't help but think that I am not traumatized enough to deserve empathy lmao (I realize how stupid it sounds saying it out loud).

So that is what REALLY got me thinking. What about an Mc that is genuinely terrified of scrutiny, being a nuisance and just basically inconveniencing anyone for things that are just basic needs. Idk if I am explaining it well enough oof and a mc like that (like me lmao) certainly won't bode well with Lucifer. Atleast not in the beginning. I could hate him (I could never but if I did) but still be terrified of disappointing him. This is what I mean when I say I love him but he reminds me too much of my father habits wise 🤢.

I am thinking a Mc who is afraid of asking even their basic needs at the beginning once Lucifer mumbled about them being too much trouble. Mc who feels so extremely guilty when the brothers get anything for them, cuz they feel like they have to work for it or they don't deserve it. Mc whose blood freezes over when they break something and try to replace it as quick as possible so no one blames them. Mc who never expresses their concerns so as to not add to the brothers' already full plates or worry them. It hurts to bottle it all up but seeing the brothers' concerned faces with so much PITY is a thousand times worse. Mc who never complains and adjusts to even unfair situations so as to not be a bother. Mc who just takes, takes and takes everything bad and doesn't say a word cuz they feel like they deserve it. Mc who tells little white lies to hide their flaws and be the perfect exchange student and avoid scoldings and criticisms ; only to stew in shame, disgust, self-loathing when someone eventually catches up on one of the lies (the person probably didn't even make a big deal of it/ was only mildly disappointed but Mc feels their heart breaking in two as they think they have broken their trust forever and would never be trusted again)

Gosh this got way longer than I was expecting >.< and a lot of signs like these aren't really obvious until you are close to that person. I think so many of us are so hard and rutheless to ourselves when sometimes the thing we need the most is a little compassion and understanding ;-;

Hi! I love seeing you in my inbox and thank you! I've been in recovery mode for the last few months but am finally coming back out of that cave and working on my hobbies again (seriously going too long without writing almost feels like going without food for me)! I hope you've been doing well too!

And oof, yes, I understand what you're saying completely. I'm like that too in a lot of ways, keeping certain details or complaints to myself because "Oh surely what I've been to is really nothing". And sometimes I let something slip and people get very concerned. Which is validating in a way, not that I need to be validated for it, everyone goes through their own pain and awful things SUCK no matter to what extent it is and I've had to learn that through my life.

(Wow that MC really is just me, huh? Calling me out are you? /j)

Honestly this type of MC is just canon to me. (I mean, the more pithy responses the MC has in original OM might just be due to writing but to me it just seems like the calm and general response of someone throwing out NPC answers as a survival tactic.)

They suck things up and soak up everything that's been said to them and work hard to remain a normal functioning being.

And of course Lucifer is an interesting character to think about with this MC because on one hand the human could absolutely despise him for the way he treats them. Or on the other hand (if you're like me I guess, which I realize is hella unhealthy, oops) the MC could look up to him and work extra hard to try to gain his validation, because getting praise from someone like that means you must not be a failure, right?

And just...the dynamic of that is so appealing to me, because Lucifer loves when people work hard and do what they're told, but then if he finally comes to the realization that they're burning out and actually almost putting themselves in more danger and harm because of HIM? And at the end of the day he's doing more damage than any of his chaotic brothers? (I like to have him spiral and be humbled just a bit)

Just all of the brothers doing some deep introspection once they come to care for MC and needing to sit down and realize that probably made their human feel so much worse and then spending the rest of eternity trying to fix that. And then the "I can fix him" mentality from MC turns into the "I can fix them" from every other character. A special Uno Reverse, if you will.

Oops, this turned into a fairly long ramble of my own...

Thanks for popping into my inbox with your thoughts! Traumatized MC deserves some extreme love

#not writing #asks

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dadsbongos · 6 months

Text

the iron giant - f.toji

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - you are actually not in this very much (you are megumi's mom tho), i've never written toji before but i love him so just... please lmao, one use of the s-word (smirk), non-curse au where toji was still a contract killer word count - 2.7 K / rating - PG

Toji breathes in deeply, eyes closed despite the blanketing darkness of the laundry room. The plastic floral scent of detergent invades his senses. Much different than the tangy iron he’d been used to before. Iron and earthy dirt. Now the only “earthy tones” he smells are from his cologne - one you’d gifted him years ago; now it’s the only brand he’ll buy. Even so, you’re the one to say it has earthy tones, Toji can’t pick them up. To him, his cologne has the same polite chemical scent that wafts off every other man in the street.

He likes it, though, he swears. He is not fond of dirt and grime or the clinging stench of blood, and he isn’t sure how he could stomach it before.

Megumi continues to cry in the kitchen. Diaper clean. No fever. Fed. Burped. Held. Rocked. Napped. Megumi can only cry, and Toji can only guess as to why.

But Toji has run out of guesses.

He sucks in another breath, letting the oxygen fill his chest until his lungs feel like popping. He is not very patient when it comes to personal annoyances. Slow walkers and stubborn stains, for example. Yet this is even worse.

This is him burdened with ear-shredding shrieks. This is his son in some agony he cannot communicate. This is letting you down.

Much slower than Toji would like to admit, he finally unlatches the laundry door hatch and returns to the kitchen.

Megumi has a trail of tears down each cheek, hands balled into chunky fists, as he keeps crying.

His large hands that’ve popped skulls now very slowly, very carefully lift Megumi from his chair. Mentally rerunning his checklist. Clean diaper. No fever. Fed. Burped.

Held?

And this time, there’s change. Megumi quiets, only a little, when he’s cradled to his father’s chest. So Toji keeps him there. He swathes his son in both arms and tenderly rocks the infant. Megumi tattles off into whimpers before eventually: the house is quiet.

Oh, how Toji wants to groan. Grumble, even, about how he had already done that and how Megumi was being picky and stubborn and a handful, but he refrains. Not because those things are untrue, but because some paranoid part of him worries that maybe by the universe’s terrible whim, Megumi will somehow remember those words.

So, instead, he settles on, “You’re such a fussy one, huh?” he clicks his tongue when Megumi’s big eyes flutter and he yawns, “Another nap?” Toji laughs, already turning to his son’s nursery, “Just woke up crying to go back to bed, huh?”

Megumi got that from his father.

On chilly, buzzing midnights, Toji will shoot up from your shared sheets with sweat slicking down his hair and a burning sensation in his chest. He’ll jump up from bed to check every lock and watch Megumi’s chest rise and fall as the baby sleeps soundly in his crib. Toji then wanders back to the master bedroom and does the same with you. Sometimes he takes so long staring that the sun will already be painting the sky when he settles under the duvet once again.

However, there will be no relief because he knows, God does he know, that he will do the routine all over again.

Toji lays Megumi into his crib and the boy sleepily reaches up for his father, yawning again before finally giving into his exhaustion.

Toji struggles with the repetition and the cooing and the hours of thankless preening, but he likes to imagine that his son is better off with a father.

Megumi sighs and drools in his sleep, rounded tummy moving in time with each fluid breath. His little hands are curled up by his head; messy tendrils of dark hair flying about in every direction. Megumi is more precious to Toji than he knows how to say - the mere thought of it chokes him, a lump forming in his throat and his chest tightening.

So, naturally, Toji wonders if he’d still be able to walk away for good, as he’d done with the Zen’ins.

“Do you like your mom or your dad more?”

“Hm…” Megumi holds the red block between both hands, no longer interested in building his tower with Yuuji, “I dunno…”

“I like my oldest brother more,” Yuuji continues, “He’s nicer than ‘kuna.”

“I like my dad,” Megumi copies defiantly, “but I like my mom, too. They’re both nice.”

“Your dad’s scary,” Nobara pipes up, plucking off a dented, yellow cardboard block from the tower, quickly replacing it with a smoother blue one, “I bet he’s scarier when he’s mad.”

“No,” Megumi shakes his head, shoving his red block into Yuuji’s hands, “He calls me nicely all the time. Like this!” he scrunches his brows to mimic his father’s resting scowl, voice digging deeper, but still singing out gently, “‘Megumi’ - or! Or ‘Megs’.”

“I thought he’d be loud,” Nobara wriggles her nose at the thought.

“And mean,” Yuuji nods wisely, eyes closed.

“Well, he’s not,” Megumi’s cheeks flush, his fingernails biting into his palms tightly, “My dad isn’t mean!”

“Megs!”

The boy turns swiftly, scrambling up from his spot between Yuuji and their blocks, abandoning his tower to charge into his father’s legs. His small forehead bangs off Toji’s shin, and he rubs over the sore area as the man signs the timesheet in Ms. Utahime’s hands.

“‘gumi’s dad!” Yuuji runs over (defying rule one of the classroom) with Nobara charging after. The two toddlers crash around Megumi, latching onto the soft material of Toji’s sweatpants as well.

“Hey, ‘rats,” Toji settles a hand in his son’s hair, ruffling the untamed tresses further, “Where’re your wards, huh? Thought we were going out!”

He grins watching Yuuji and Nobara get riled up, the pair jumping and clawing at his pants with rapid nods. Repeatedly, they echo ‘yeah!’s and ‘where are they?’s amongst each other that have Utahime shaking her head and sighing.

Megumi stretches his arms up and Toji complies, lifting Megumi into his arms as if the preschooler weighed no more than a loaf of bread. Immediately, Yuuji and Nobara are jealous.

“I wanna be tall, too!” Yuuji shouts.

“Me first!” Nobara grunts, arms wide and expecting to be lifted.

More preschoolers waiting for their guardians holler a small collection of “no fair!” and “me too!” signaling the gaggle’s arrival. Children clamber over each other, hoping to climb atop Toji’s broad frame.

“Oh, my friends! We should ask before touching!” Utahime tries settling the kids, and to her credit, all excited Yuuji and Nobara fall back from the man’s personal space, “Megumi’s father doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to.”

But the man himself shrugs, calmly approaching the rainbow circle time carpet and shadowing over the forgotten tower of blocks. Before he can fully settle into the new seat, children are clinging to his shoulders and jamming footholds over his legs.

“Eh, I don’t mind,” Toji snags Yuuji and Nobara, each in one hand, and lifts them above the other children’s heads, “‘m already waiting for Higuruma to take Yuuji and Megs with Nobara. Might as well let the germ-bots play.”

Fun and delight were not Toji’s original intention for toiling away for his muscles, but he allows it now. Though, even he cannot deny: it feels like a bastardization of innocence, to use bloodied skin for the gleeful entertainment of kids.

But radiant stars light up Megumi’s seafoam eyes, a cherub’s rosy glow stretching over his cheeks, awkwardly gapped teeth on display from his grin, and the jingle of his giggles overtaking the room. So Toji ignores the bubbling feeling.

“Heard you’re a father now,” Shiu and Toji don’t meet often anymore. When they do, it’s unpleasant.

“Mhm.”

“A real father,” Shiu muses, remembering the times he would have to care for Megumi in Toji’s bumbling, clueless stead, “Still not accepting any jobs, then?”

“Nah,” Toji looks around for the nearest clock and finds none. The humor is not lost on him; that a heart familiar with gunfire and gore, now frets over whether or not he’s late to go with you to pick up Megumi from school.

“Your offers just keep plummeting, you know?”

Toji’s blank stare tells Shiu all he needs to know. All that he’s already known.

“Alright,” Shiu waves Toji away before teasing lightheartedly, “See you in a year when someone remembers you exist.”

Toji merely rolls his eyes.

“Where’re you goin’?” Toji watches his son pace from the living room to the kitchen like a madman for five full cycles before speaking up.

“Out,” Megumi’s voice echoes through the short hall as he storms in from the kitchen. His eyes scramble from the base of the front door to the short shelf stuffed full of the little family’s various shoes, “Do you know where my dress shoes are?”

Toji snickers, hands folded back behind his head, pale skin illuminated by the television, “Where is your ass going that you need dress shoes?”

Megumi groans, cutting a quick glare to his father, “A date.” he watches the older man raise a brow at him, “Yuuji’s older brother - the goth one - his girlfriend is in town so the apartment is free…” he shrugs, “It’s a date. Do you know where my shoes are?”

“Dress shoes for a date? A night-in date?”

“I want to look nice,” Megumi pauses, “You wouldn’t care if I was going on a louzy date?”

“You know the rules,” Toji shrugs, “Don’t add or subtract from the population. Don’t go to jail,” he snickers suddenly, his son fidgets at the sound, “Not that you or your boy can add to the population.”

Megumi sighs, the urge to call out for his mother’s help is bubbling up from his chest, but he feels a more pressing concern rise faster, “Will Mom care? I know it’s… late.”

Almost-ten-at-night late.

Toji stares at his boy, unsure how he’ll be able to adjust once his son moves out. It was hard enough to mourn that gaping, useless feeling in his chest when he realized Megumi was now older, and therefore more independent.

But he’s been staring too long and doesn’t know how to say that in simple terms, “Nah, she knows you’re too lame to do anything fun.”

Megumi’s expression falls flat, then shifting into a full grimace, “You’re awful,” he turns back towards the kitchen, where the upstairs staircase awaits. His voice echoes through the short hallway as he calls, “Mom! Have you seen my nice shoes?!”

Toji was a shithead kid. He smoked and drank and snuck out and sucked up attention from girls.

Could it be called sneaking out when nobody cared enough to make sure he was in his room past lights out?

He is glad Megumi isn’t like him in either regard.

“Okay,” Megumi waltzes into the living room, one hand splayed at his side and the other clutching the heels of his shiniest leather shoes. He stops at the front door, back slumping into the connected wall as he squeezes on the pair, “I’ll be back before two.”

“‘kay,” Toji watches his son flick the front door open, “Tell your lil’ boyfriend I say hi.”

“Don’t,” Megumi glares again, “Don’t say it like that.”

“What? You two break up or something?” he returns his son’s narrowed gaze, “This some closure bullshit?”

Toji laughs at how Megumi visibly stiffens, hands flexing as if he wants to threaten something nasty. A white-knuckled fist. A middle finger. But he holds himself back, he’s more respectful than Toji is even now, as a grown adult man.

“No, I just hate when you say he’s my ‘little boyfriend’,” the boy sighs, shoulders tense, “And we got in a disagreement. We’re fine. It’s fine,” Toji must make a face because his son sighs louder, “Stop being a dick.”

Toji barks a laugh at his son’s crude language, “You’re so fussy,” he waves away the insult, “I’ll be up, so call me if you need a ride home.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“You know, ‘cuz I don’t want you getting driven around by a stranger. Or a Yuuji that missed his bedtime.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“That’s how people die.”

“Yeah, got it,” Megumi grunts, then sighs once more, “Thanks, Dad,” he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath, shoulders going lax before he waves the white flag, “Well, before I go…”

“Is it about your tiff with the boyfriend?”

“Stop, or I won’t ask you,” Megumi threatens, arms folding across his chest, “So, I don’t- we’re not breaking up. But I’ve been thinking.”

“Mhm.”

“About our,” he cringes before spitting out the most applicable word, “sustainability?”

“Mhm.”

“We’re different, and sometimes we’re both talking about stupid shit and we just…” Megumi swallows thickly, “We fight about it sometimes. Like with Nobara’s new boyfriend. I think he’s terrible and Yuuji just wants to see the good parts, and we couldn’t agree. I know that’s nothing crazy, but what if it becomes a pattern?”

Toji mulls over the question, weeding through the inane example to pinpoint his son’s real struggle, “So, you think you two won’t be able to work out a ‘disagreement’ one day?”

Megumi switches the weight on his feet, eyes darting down to his fanciest shoes. Yuuji will be in old, coffee-stained, hand-me-down blue slippers. Megumi knows he’ll find it charming, “He’s just really positive. And nice. I feel like I just bring him down.”

“What? With your shitty attitude?” Toji laughs despite his son’s blank stare, “Quit pouting. It was the same thing with me and your mom. You’ll be fine.”

“Good advice.”

“Not done: Don’t get paranoid about it. Just be the you that Yuuji asked out in high school. The kid liked you, and still likes you, knowing you’re a bit of a priss. Your mom loves me even though I can be the same way, and even if her positivity can sometimes feel… overbearing,” he pauses, grasping for what he’s sure started his son’s concern, “Naive, even, to things I think are trouble; I love her,” he can see Megumi smother down a smile at his father’s admission, “I love your mother so much it feels like my entire body wants to convulse until I can’t breathe or talk. And if you feel like that with Yuuji, and him with you, you’ll be fine. Just remember not to be a prick, and you’ll be okay.”

The boy nods slowly, “Okay,” then he smirks, “You’re sappy, by the way.”

“What? Gonna put me in jail for loving my wife? Weird ass kid,” Toji huffs, brushing off the jab before calling out, “Seriously, call me if you need a ride! And don’t die!”

“I got it already!”

Shiu watches the horses silently.

When Megumi was born, Toji’s acceptance of contracts took a devastating plummet. Once Megumi turned two, they ceased completely, and by the time Megumi was ten - offers for Toji had dwindled so significantly that most speculated the man had died.

Despite their rocky acquaintanceship, Shiu is happy for Toji. Content that somewhere, anywhere in Tokyo, Toji is with his wife and son rather than stinking of sweat and iron and bleeding out in an alleyway.

Out of respect, Shiu watches Toji’s lucky number seven finish in a tragic last before leaving just as alone as he’d arrived.

Toji yawns, eyes heavy and stinging, as he stands in his son’s doorway. The room has changed massively over the course of twenty years, with a twenty-first fast on the way. And Toji continues to stumble over to his son’s room after nightmares like no time has passed since his son was a baby.

Toji wasn’t sure he’d been meant for fatherhood, especially when Megumi was only able to wail and shriek over his displeasure, but he did it. He did it, and he doesn’t regret it.

Toji wonders again if he’d be able to walk away from you and Megumi as he did with his birth family, but the internal response is an instant, resounding: No.

He could not walk away then, and he cannot do it now. Nor does he want to.

Toji much prefers to have struggled those years as a father than having excelled at being some other schmuck’s gun.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #jjk movie marathon event

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robinsno1lesbian · 1 year

Note

The way i want neighbor!robin to sneak through my window in the morning and wake me up with her tongue in between my thighs is a problem at this point (bonus points if reader was moaning her name when she came in through the window✨✨) -🍓

older!neighbor!robin x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1415

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content (MDNI), implied age gap (reader is 18+!!), oral (fem! receiving obviously), established cnc, a bit of fluff too? i guess?, did not proofread AT ALL + wrote it in a rush (let me know if i missed anything :))

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: second drabble today- i hope this gets close to what you've imagined! also this turned out kinda soft-ish?! idk how that happened but i hope you don't mind lmao

she knows she should stay away. she has to stay away. the little situationship the two of you have started is growing into something much bigger; stolen glances across the fence, sneaking around each other's houses at night, muffled moans and stolen kisses... it wasn't supposed to go this far. she wasn't supposed to feel this way. and yet here she is, sitting on her bed in the early morning hours, wishing you were here.

robin feels like a damn child and she wants to hate herself for that; for her stupid little longings. she doesn't though. and that makes it all even worse. she groans and grabs a pillow to put over her face in frustration. why did you have to look so damn good in that summer dress the first time she laid her eyes on you? why did you have to smile so sweetly when she caught your eye? why did you take her hand in yours and caressed her knuckles when no one was looking?

even with her eyes shut underneath the fabric of the pillow, images of you are vividly playing behind her eyelids. your scent, your eyes, your hair, the way you taste on her tongue... none of it fades... "god, fuck" robin gets up, and throws on a pair of wide jeans and a top before running down the stairs and right out of the front door. the sun hasn't fully risen yet but offers enough light for her to see perfectly fine.

and even if it wasn't, robin has done this enough times to find her way into your room blind. she swings over your fence swiftly before making her way around the house to the backside, where she can climb up to the window of your room. it is an easy doing really, as if some higher power wanted it this way. she chuckles at the absurdity of that thought while she pushes herself up. what kind of higher power would want this...? would want her to climb through the window of her neighbor to watch her sleep? because that's what she's here for. just to catch a glimpse of your face while you're sleeping. nothing else. robin is delighted to see that you have left your window open and climbs through it quietly. her feet meet the wooden floor with a thud and just like that, she's inside.

she looks through the room to find that you're still asleep, unbothered by the noise of her entering. and yet, there's a strange noise coming from you. robin narrows her eyes and steps closer, careful to avoid any further sounds. she's right; your lips are parted slightly and your breath is quicker than usual. you must be dreaming, she concludes with a grin. dreaming of something really good, judging by the way your hips are rutting ever so shily. the idea of just watching you sleep is thrown out of the window when a soft "yes robin" leaves your mouth. robin sits down on the edge of your bed with a grin. she puts a hand to your thigh, your blanket thrown aside by your movement, and strokes upward slowly. goosebumps rise under the touch and she smiles. as it seems, an imaginary robin is making you feel those things in your dreams. and while she is happy to see that you're hers even when you're dreaming, robin knows she could make you feel much better than this unreal version of her. she hooks her fingers in the hemline of your shorts. you are spread out on your back and it is easy for her to slip them down and off your body. she throws them over her shoulder carelessly before allowing her gaze to wander over your bare lower half. robin hums when she sees the arousal that has pooled between your legs. she licks her lips and bends your legs at the knees, her palms on the back of your thighs to keep them spread open for her. you're still asleep but your hips are grinding down at a more rapid pace now, chasing whatever your dream-robin is giving you. she holds your legs up and starts kissing your inner thighs, earning a gasp from you. robin makes sure to suck some of the skin into her mouth to leave light marks all over you, before her nose nudges your center. she can scent your arousal, which is sending a wave of heat straight down to her own lower abdomen. she has gotten you this turned on, without even being here herself. the fantasy, the mere thought of her, gets you like this.

without any further undo, she puts her tongue down to your dripping entrance and licks a long stripe through you.

the moan this draws from you causes robin's head to spin. she places a kiss to your clit before her lips wrap around it and she sucks the bundle of nerves into her mouth. she is coaxing sweet noises out of you with each suck of her lips and she can feel the arousal growing against her chin. once she has given your clit the proper attention, her mouth moves lower again, her kisses lingering over your entrance for a moment before she sticks her tongue out. all softness is gone at the very first taste of you. robin moans louder than she should, her eyes rolling back when your arousal coats her tongue. she watches your face and how your eyes move under their lids. she wonders what imaginary-robin is doing to you and if her tongue is adding the desired effect to it. "you taste so good, fuck" she whispers. one of your legs is thrown over her shoulder so that your cunt is on full display for her. robin can't help herself but grind down into the mattress for some kind of friction against her own center. suddenly, she feels your hands in her hair, brushing through the blonde strands before pulling you closer. "robin...?" your sleepy voice sounds. your eyes are still closed as if you aren't sure whether this is really happening or not. "yeah..." robin replies softly. "don't worry sweet girl, let me take care of you..." you hum in response and nod your head. "please" she picks up her pace immediately, her tongue fucking into you and your hands tightening in her hair. "robin- oh- oh god-" you can hardly believe that you're waking up to the magic that is robin's mouth between your thighs. and yet here you are. her tongue is urging you closer and closer to your release. you must've been close in your sleep already, otherwise your orgasm wouldn't start coiling in your body just yet. "robin fuck" you mumble, finally opening your eyes to see her. her hair is a beautiful mess and your wetness is smeared all across her chin. you can see her own hips grinding down and hear the way she is moaning softly against your pussy. the image is enough for the knot in your body to snap. you cry out and your back arches off the mattress when your release ripples through you. robin helps you through it, licking each and every drop of arousal you're giving her. you cover your mouth with your hand, absentmindedly realizing that you're still in your parents' house and they could still very much hear you. eventually, you pull her head from your cunt and give it another tug, signalizing her that you want her close. she crawls up your body until her head lingers over yours. "good morning" she whispers. "'morning" you mumble sleepily. robin leans down and kisses your lips softly. so softly that you can't help yourself but pull her all the way down on top of you, both of your hands wrapping around your neck. you can still taste your own release on her tongue when it slips past your lips. eventually, your mouths part and you lean back to get a good look at her. your thumbs stroke over her cheeks as you give her a smile. "what time is it?" "still early" she whispers back. "i just- missed you...i guess?" "oh yeah-?" you chuckle. "yeah" she nods and pecks your lips again. "couldn't stop thinking about you..."

"well...me neither...and, mind you, i was asleep" "lucky you that i came here at the right time" robin leans closer and starts kissing down your neck. you can't help yourself but laugh at the tickling sensation and throw the blanket over both of your bodies, excited to see where this might go...

#robinsno1lesbian drabbles #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x fem!reader smut #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley smut #older!robin buckley #older!neighbor!robin buckley #older!neighbor!robin x reader #neighbor!robin x reader

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taevbears · 7 months

Text

Magic Shop - 11

You find out what Seokjin calls you behind your back.

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Seokjin focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, found family, domestic/slice of life, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 12.0k ⤑ warnings: smut (penetrative), seokjin gets a little jealous and touchy (risky touching?), verbal sexual harassment, pet names, minor character death, public torture (whipping, implied starvation, not y/n or the boys), description of bodily harm, oppression of mages, implied shady business dealings, a bit of piracy, probable inaccuracies with 92 liners, mentions of violence, y/n and seokjin are so ride or die for each other lmao. ⤑ note: this is the 2nd half of jin's story! if you haven't read the ch 10 yet or need a refresher, please do so before reading this chapter! but man, the amount of times i had to re-write some scenes bc i was afraid it was getting too complicated. even though it's a long one, i hope you guys enjoy! i'd love to hear your thoughts on everything :)

Chapters: Series ML | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

In the time that Seokjin is away, there hasn’t been a single day where he isn’t thinking about you.

In the throes of battle, surrounded by enemies. Swords viciously clash against each other and arrows of fire shoot across the sky. An anguished cry from a fallen opponent pierces the air. And Seokjin, unceremoniously running his sword through an incoming enemy, wonders if you’re having a good day.

During a third round of drinks in a noisy pub. Drunk comrades are crooning classic love songs, their words slurring together as they belt out notes off-key. One of them is in their feelings and is crying under the table. Glass shatters from the corner of the bar and a brawl is let loose. As a chair flies over his head, Seokjin worries if you’re eating well and sleeping okay.

Late at night, in their makeshift camp that’s located in the middle of nowhere. The cackles of a small bonfire, the snores of his team, and the chirps of crickets fill the quiet night. Above him, the stars and moon are beautiful, and Seokjin gazes up at them forlornly as a wild bear approaches the camp. He ignores the menacing roar and the panicked screams as he realizes how much he misses you.

It feels like he’s been away from you longer than he really has. With every begrudging step, he and the Freelancers travel on foot to their destination. The location of their target is far, and the threats of wild animals, bandits, and other ailments make the roads dangerous.

But nothing – not even the merciless wrath of the Devoted gods – could withstand the constant bickering between the two leaders of the Freelancers.

Day in and day out, it feels like the two brothers – Adnan and Tariq – can’t settle on anything without a disagreement. Diplomatic and a pacifist, Adnan tries to help anyone he comes across who are in need. Tariq scolds him for giving away needed supplies and for wasting their time. But while Adnan is checking local inns and encouraging the guild to turn in for the night, Tariq and his followers unwind at pubs and bars until the early hours of the morning. They’ve been nothing but hostile toward each other. Not only are they getting on each other’s nerves, but it’s affecting everyone else as well.

“Have they always been like that?” Seokjin asks, keeping his voice low as he eyes the tent the brothers are in. Everyone is pretending they can’t hear them yelling at each other again.

Byulyi nods her head solemnly. “It’s been getting worse. Ever since their father got sick, he’s been giving Adnan the responsibility to lead the guild. But Tariq has his own ideas and wants to run things very differently.”

Just then, Tariq storms out of Adnan’s tent. A silence follows as the guild gauges his angered expression. And the tension continues to linger even after Tariq enters his own tent without a word.

Their mission comes directly from a wealthy nobleman.

There’s a looming threat of something in the nearby woods. Every night, the villagers hear a horrid groan. It spooks the dogs and the livestock. To make matters worse, those who’ve dared to investigate the strange sound have yet to return. No one knows if it’s a beast, a cult, or witchcraft. Whatever it is, it seems to be getting closer to the town.

The mission is considered complete if they are able to successfully investigate the mysterious sound and get rid of the threat.

“This feels spooky,” Junghwan whispers, inching closer to Seokjin. He nods his head, eyes flickering wearily at the treetops. A thick fog has settled around them, obscuring the path beyond what their torches can illuminate. Aside from their footsteps and the cackles of their burning flames, everything is so quiet.

Adnan and Tariq are in the lead, but a fork in the road has the group split. Some follow the leader down one path while the rest follow his brother. Seokjin pauses as he looks down the crossroads, not sure which way to take.

What would you do in this situation?

It’s funny how, even now, Seokjin is still thinking about you.

His friends stop as well. Nervously, Heeyeon asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Shh. Did you hear that?” Jaehwan whispers. Everyone falls quiet, barely breathing.

It’s then, they catch it. The sound of rustling.

Sunwoo is the first to jump into action. He draws his weapon, stepping closer to the source of the sound. Seokjin and Byulyi flank to his side, ready to assist, followed by Junghwan, Jaehwan, and Heeyeon. Seokjin unsheathes his sword as Sunwoo charges forward.

Caught in a small clearing is a group of three. One man and two women. Humans, at least at first glance. Seokjin would’ve thought they’re from another guild had he not seen the small, glowing light from the tips of their wands.

Mages.

The two groups point their weapons at each other, but no one makes the first strike. Sunwoo’s brows are furrowed as he demands, “Who are you?”

“We’re just trying to get away from it,” the man explains, urgency in his voice. “Let us pass and we won’t harm you.”

Byulyi frowns. “Get away from what?”

In the distance, Seokjin sees it.

Through the thick fog, a tall figure emerges. Its height reaches the tall tree tops, and its body is entirely made of roots and wood. It’s as if an old, rotting tree has come to life, but its shape has morphed into something humanoid. In its wooden face, glowing, yellow eyes stare back at them.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” a woman pleads, her lip quivering with fear. She looks like she’s been through hell. “Our friend got trapped in the Veil. We were trying to perform a ritual for her, but she didn’t wake up. We were just trying to summon her back, but something else came instead.”

The others look confused, but Seokjin knows exactly what’s going on. He’s seen this once before, when something Wicked possesses a mage’s body.

“Do you feel her?” Seokjin quickly asks the group. “Do you still feel your friend’s energy in that thing?”

“Barely,” she answers. The two beside her nod their heads.

“Then we’re not too late,” Seokjin sighs as he sheaths his sword. His friends look even more confused as he turns to them and explains, “That creature is a person. Human, like all of us.”

Their eyes dart to the mages, who stare at him with a stunned silence. Byulyi’s frown deepens. “But—”

“Human. We’re human. They’re human. That’s human,” Seokjin emphasizes, pointing at each of them, including the mages and the beast. He turns his attention to the mages again. “You guys are her friends, right? You have to keep talking to her, then. You have to help her remember who she is so she can snap out of it.”

A flicker of hope shines in one of the woman’s eyes. The other two aren’t quite as convinced. The man is the one who answers. “Don’t you think we’ve tried that?”

“If you care about your friend, you’ll try again.” Seokjin doesn’t waste any more time to persuade them. He gestures toward the creature, telling his teammates that they can weaken her a little and stop her from doing any more damage, but they can’t kill her.

As they reach the creature, she’s even bigger in person, more intimidating. Even the mages are trembling a little as they crane their necks up to see her. The creature sees the group approaching her, and when she moves, a terrible, haunting groan escapes from her. To Seokjin, it almost sounds like a cry for help.

Taking his advice, the mages call out to their friend, shouting her name, trying to comfort her, assuring that they can still feel her energy. And much to everyone’s surprise, it’s working. The creature leans down, body aching and cracking as she tries to level with her friends.

“S-Scared…”

That’s the only word she utters before a shriek of pain pierces in the air.

Adnan and Tariq have followed the sound of the groaning and see their comrades in the face of a terrifying creature. They unleash their attacks, raining fire upon her, even as Seokjin and the others scream at the brothers to stop.

“Good work, son,” Adnan tells him, clasping the former warden’s shoulder proudly. Seokjin feels the sting of frustration in his eyes. “We’ll take it from here.”

The creature in the woods is slain and the Wicked mages that summoned it have been arrested. Thanks to the Freelancers of New Haven, the village is at peace.

The nobleman pays the group handsomely for their efforts. The pouch of coins feels heavy in Seokjin’s hands. It’s enough for him to take a break, visit his hometown with you and the others, and still have more to spare toward the shop.

Seokjin doesn’t feel right when he’s handed his share by the grateful nobleman.

Although the mission is considered a success, Seokjin can’t help but think about the mages and the monster in the woods, about Adriel from Blackstone Castle and his similar fate. He can’t help but envision you, Hoseok, or Namjoon as the creature instead and witnessing your ends before he could stop it.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Seokjin says to the mages, speaking quietly as the others around him celebrate their victory. The mages are held together, wrists bound with nullifying ties that prevent them from using their magic.

Their fates are undetermined. But with the way things are in this world, injustice will be their demise.

He doesn’t expect the mages to forgive him. He doesn’t even expect them to accept his apology. Yet, one of the female mages looks at him with kind eyes.

“How did you know… about her? That there’s a way for mages to regain their humanity after they turn Wicked?”

Seokjin isn’t sure how to answer. He’s seen the head enchanter of Blackstone call out to his apprentice. He’s seen Adriel come back to his senses when his friend, Jackson, broke through to him. And although he didn’t completely transform, Taehyung is living proof that it’s possible to become human again.

“I’ve come to realize you mages aren’t all that bad,” he decides. It’s a long story to explain otherwise.

“Because you know one?”

Seokjin stares at her with surprise. “I-I don’t—”

“It’s okay. Your secret is safe with me,” she says with a knowing smile. She glances at the charmed bracelet around his wrist. The one that Hoseok and Taehyung made for him before he left on his mission. The one that you had enchanted to keep him safe while he’s gone. “Whoever you know must care about you a lot. Those are some strong protection spells.”

“Yeah…” Seokjin trails off as he looks down at it. Everyone at the shop made sure he was well-protected and taken care of before he left. It makes him miss you all more.

And it makes him feel even more guilty about how things transpired.

The mission is completed and Seokjin has been paid, but he knows that deep down, he’s failed.

“Have you gone mad?” Adnan remarks as he stares at his younger brother in disbelief.

“Either this, or they be sent to the gallows,” Tariq reasons, and before his brother could reply, he adds, “It will be a waste of their talent if they’re just hung to death or sent to a fortress to rot.”

Another argument is brewing between the two brothers, but this one has everyone split. Before the guild could leave the village to return home, Tariq proposes to bring the captured mages with them. To atone for their sins, he suggests that they work for the guild instead.

“No way. The Devoted leaders will have our heads if we allow such a thing,” Adnan reminds him as a murmur of agreement comes from the crowd. Working with a mage is bound to be trouble. It goes against the teachings of the Devoted.

Tariq rolls his eyes. “The Devoted leaders can kiss my ass. Those pompous prudes have their heads so far up their own asses, they—”

“Brother!” Adnan snaps, interrupting him. “We are not taking the mages with us! What if one of them turns into another one of those creatures? Or something even worse? We’ll be endangering the town. We’ll be tarnishing the reputation our family has built for the Freelancers.”

“Fine. Then I quit the Freelancers.”

With the tension rising between the two brothers, it shouldn’t have been surprising. Yet, Seokjin is still stunned to see the guild fall apart before his eyes as they speak.

“Brother, where are your senses?” Adnan asks, exasperated. It seems like this isn’t the first time his brother has threatened to leave the guild. But it’s the first time Tariq seems to mean it.

“You do things your way, and I’ll do things my way,” he concludes as he turns to the quiet guild. “I’m making a new guild – The New Order. Anyone who has what it takes to join my side is more than welcomed to.”

Those in favor of Tariq, who’s morals seem to align with his questionable practices, immediately get up to follow him. Some are a bit more hesitant, standing with Tariq out of fear that he’ll attack the remaining Freelancers than anything else.

Unexpectedly, however, Seokjin begins to stand up as well.

His friends look at him with shock. Jaehwan asks, “What are you doing?”

Truthfully, Seokjin doesn’t know. Before New Haven, he was part of an order that is similar to what Adnan envisions for the Freelancers: knights of the Devoted protecting the town from magic and all things evil. Clearly, that didn’t work out for him. Seokjin can’t be in a guild that hunts mages for profit.

Seokjin looks at his friends with a half-hearted smile. “Hopefully, the right thing.”

Somehow, the journey going back home feels longer than having to leave. Without Adnan keeping things in order, Tariq and his men are like a crew of pillaging pirates. They spend their new earnings sleeping with women, drinking at pubs, intimidating the villagers with violence, and finding ways to make quick coin through threats and theft.

Seokjin doesn’t want any part of it.

Someone pushes him a pint of cold ale. Tariq grins at him from across the table. “It’s on me, kid. Live a little.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin mutters, taking a sip. It gives him something to do than just sitting there, ignoring the sultry women around him who are batting their eyelashes and giggling to get his attention. It’s times like this where he really wishes you were with him instead.

Tariq sees the way Seokjin is visibly uncomfortable with the women around him. “You have a wife or something?”

“Yes,” Seokjin answers. Technically, you’re not married to him. But you’re still his.

“You heard the man. Go find someone else,” he orders the women. They sigh in defeat, but leave him alone.

“Thanks,” Seokjin tells him, more sincerely.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go with my brother,” Tariq continues, trying to make small talk. “You seem the type to follow him. Well-mannered, honest, a good person. Loyal to your wife, too. People like that love to kiss the ground he walks on.”

“I have my reasons,” Seokjin says vaguely.

“We’ll have plenty more missions like this one in our future,” Tariq assures him. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes Seokjin mildly uncomfortable. “That thing in the woods was a mage too, right? Imagine having a monster like that on your side of the battlefield. We’d be unstoppable.”

Seokjin frowns. “Sir, what exactly are you going to do with the mages?”

Tariq doesn’t answer him. He just laughs heartily and tells him, “Just drink up, kid. You deserve it.”

Before he left, Seokjin made you a promise. That as soon as his mission is over, he’ll run straight home to you.

When he was still in town, he’d usually return to the shop by sunset. Yellows, oranges, and pinks would color the sky in a beautiful twilight, basking the town with a golden glow as he makes his way back to you. Every afternoon, you’d be the first to welcome him back, stepping out of the shop to meet him outside. All the anxiousness and worry melt away the moment your eyes lock with his and you see him running toward you.

Sometimes, he’d throw his pack aside and pull you into a tight hug. Sometimes, you’d trip over your feet to reach him first. Despite how hard the day is, no matter how tired and sweaty he is, or how busy you’ve been, nothing else matters as you both end up in each other’s arms.

You have no idea when Seokjin is coming back this time.

But every afternoon, you still come out of the shop to welcome him home.

Most of the time, one of the other boys keeps you company while you’re waiting. Other times, you keep yourself busy by sweeping the steps, watering the flowers, or hanging up laundry to air-dry. But lately, you’ve just been sitting on the steps of the shop and watching the sunset, wishing that Seokjin was there to share this moment with you.

“Do you think he’ll come back today?” Jungkook asks, sitting next to you on the steps. Even though there’s plenty of space around you, he’s huddled close to your side.

You smile a bit and lean on his shoulder. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

Jungkook hums, shifting around and pulling you closer to him so that you’re both comfortable. Out of all the boys, it’s Jungkook that comes out and waits with you the most. He helps you with the chores, he sings and shares a drink with you, he fits you between his legs and in his arms as the sun disappears and the air gets colder. You know part of it is because he’s adamant about spending more time with you, but you also know it’s because he misses Seokjin too.

All of you do.

Everyone has felt his absence since Seokjin has been away. It’s hard to walk past his room in the hallway and know that it’s empty. Or to eat dinner together and see the vacant spot at the table where he sits. You miss his silliness, his dramatic antics, the sound of his laughter, the sweetness of his smile seconds before he does something completely unhinged.

The sun dips lower and lower, and night begins to color the skies in dark blues and purples. More of the boys come out for a bit, and Jimin crosses over to say hello. The conversations between you and the boys drift from one topic to another, until Hoseok invites Jimin to eat dinner at the shop. The moon and stars appear in the sky, and one by one, the boys begin to head back inside.

Until it’s just you and Jungkook again.

“Come on, you two. It’s getting cold,” Namjoon says, opening the door to the shop. The light and warmth from inside feel welcoming compared to the chilly air around you.

“Maybe he’ll be home tomorrow?” Jungkook suggests, helping you to your feet.

“Maybe,” you reply, a bit sullen. You try not to look too disappointed as Jungkook wraps his arm around you and starts to lead you inside.

Just as you’re about to cross the threshold, you hear the sound of footsteps running toward you guys. The three of you look at the source of the sound and your eyes widen as you feel Jungkook’s arm suddenly slip off you. He sounds a bit choked up as he utters, “Jin-hyung?”

Hoseok passes by at that moment, most-likely to check on you and Jungkook as well. His eyes widen at what he hears. “Jin’s here? He’s home?”

Inside, there’s a commotion of chaos as the others stop what they’re doing and rush to the door. And sure enough, after some time apart, Seokjin is finally standing before you. The cold air makes his breath visible and his face is a bit flushed from running.

He looks exhausted and travel-worn, but he’s as handsome as ever. “I’m ba–”

You don’t give him a chance to finish his sentence as you throw yourself at him, so happy and relieved that you’re nearly in tears. The others follow after you, greeting him with long hugs and affectionate squeezes. Seokjin keeps you close to him, one arm around you as he uses his free hand to return their greetings. As the excitement starts to spill back inside, Seokjin finally turns his attention back to you.

“I missed you,” you tell him, gently caressing his handsome face.

“Not as much as I missed you,” he replies, and he kisses you like he’s been waiting forever to have you in his arms again.

Tonight, the shop is the liveliest it’s been in a while.

Hoseok serves his best brews, and it isn’t long until the table is surrounded by flushed, giddy faces. The food Yoongi has made is extra delicious, and he smiles shyly but proudly when he receives compliments for his work. There’s loud chatter and laughter, and having the eight of you all together again fills you with a warm feeling that can’t be anything else but love.

Tonight, Namjoon keeps the shop closed. The curtains are drawn, the doors are locked, and a sign on the window reads that it isn’t open. Regulars frown and try to peer inside, wondering what’s happened. And perhaps, through the disguising glamor of a quiet and empty building, they’d see all of you have moved to the parlor.

“Tell us about your mission, hyung,” Jungkook asks, eyes wide with excitement.

“I’d rather talk about what you guys have been up to,” Seokjin replies, shaking his head slightly. “I’m sure you guys will hear more about it in the morning anyway.”

“That bad, huh?” Jimin asks with an arched eyebrow.

Seokjin grimaces as he takes a swig of his drink. The heat of the alcohol burns his throat as he swallows. “To put it lightly, I think the Freelancers are done.”

You all look at him in shock. “Really? What happened?”

“Decisions were made, and the guild split up,” Seokjin vaguely explains, though it only makes you all even more curious. “The good news is that I’m technically on a vacation now. I think I know how I want to spend it, too.”

Tonight, Seokjin unpacks from his long mission and begins to sort through the things he wants to take back to his hometown. As he tries to remember the things his parents and brother like, he hears a knock on the door.

He doesn’t need to turn around to know that it’s you.

“It’s nice to pass by and see that you’re here,” you tell him quietly as you step inside. The room is as pretty as he is, iridescently white walls and floorings that match the soft pastel furniture. Tables made of glass and light fixtures made of crystal. The room hasn’t changed since he’s been away, but you see small souvenirs of his travels on a shelf. Subtle things like the alpaca doll Namjoon snuck into his pack, a super tuna charm made of wood, toadstool mushrooms in a jar. “I’m sorry about the Freelancers. I know the guild was really important to you.”

“I’ll survive,” he says, coming to wrap his arms around you. He places a kiss on the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he holds you close. “I thought about you all the time.”

“Yeah? In what way?” you ask cheekily, and Seokjin laughs as you turn to face him.

Tonight, Seokjin shows you exactly, making up for lost time. You shudder as his soft, plush lips worships your body, how his large hands feel against your heated skin. Your soft moans and sighs only encourage him as you guide his hand down between your legs, whispering against his lips for him to touch you. Moonlight bathes upon your skin as he hovers over you, watching your reaction as his fingers slip inside you. There’s something addicting to the way pleasure is shown on your face, how warm and wet you are just with his fingers pumping in and out of you. How incredibly good you feel when he replaces his fingers with his cock.

He feels your nails scratching his back as his steady pace quickens, his thrusts become a bit harsher, and he adjusts your legs over his shoulders so he could go deeper. Your little mewls and whimpers become progressively louder as you arch your back and clench around him. And Seokjin moans loudly when he nearly climaxes when you do,

You feel him pull out of you, and his fingers easily slide into you again. You twitch a little and whine out his name, a bit sensitive. But Seokjin smiles warmly and kisses you. “One more, beautiful. Can you do that for me?”

Tomorrow, all hell will break loose once word goes out about the Freelancers. But tonight, Seokjin puts that behind him. Tonight, he puts his attention all on you.

Word about the demise of the Freelancers spreads around town like a wildfire.

Two brothers, who once stood together in the face of danger, are now enemies in a competitive race to gain more influence and success to be the bigger, better guild. Many are loyal to the mission of the reformed Freelancers, and all the hard work Adnan has done to keep his family’s legacy. But there are just as many people who are equally willing to throw away their values and morals to join Tariq’s side, the admired and well-respected war hero of New Haven.

And Seokjin, like many others in the guild, is caught between the crossfires.

“Stay inside today,” Seokjin tells you and the others after explaining the details of his mission. Things he couldn’t say in front of Jimin without exposing any of them, He sees the expression on each of your faces when he described the creature, the mages in the woods, and how Tariq wants to bring them into his guild. He sees the sadness, anger, and weariness in each of you, and how the same thought crosses all your minds: that what had happened to those mages could’ve easily happened to you.

“Especially you, Taehyung,” Hoseok adds seriously, meeting his gaze.

No one knows how the town will react to the news, but the raven familiar has already dealt with angry mobs and burning stakes a lifetime ago. He shouldn’t have to witness history repeating itself with another mage.

“I’ll be fine,” he replies, but holds you a little tighter to him, afraid to let you go. Seokjin sees your subtle nod when Namjoon mouths for you to stay with Taehyung.

A heavy weight fills Seokjin’s heart as he imagines the awful things that would be said about the captured mages. And how those words, in turn, would hurt any of you.

“We’ll be careful, Jin. Don’t worry about us,” Hoseok assures him with a tiny shrug. “It’s nothing we haven’t heard before. The wardens at Blackstone used to say a lot worse.”

“The wardens used to do a lot worse,” you add on quietly, looking at Seokjin. He visibly stiffens as he remembers those men harassing you at the castle, of the reasons Adriel became Wicked in the first place. It makes him worry that those captured mages could be going through something equally worse by the hands of Tariq and his men.

“What’s going to happen to those mages?” Yoongi asks with a frown.

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”

As much as he wants to take you all away to his hometown where it’s safe and away from this mess, he can’t, without good conscience, just skip town when people are in trouble. When he is the only one who understands their situation better than anyone.

“I love you. Be safe,” you tell him before he goes, caressing his face. He kisses you deeply and promises that he’ll come back to you.

Seokjin isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he heads out, but he knows it’s going to be a mess. Jimin catches his eye from across the street. His face is unreadable as he informs him, “There’s something going on at the town square.”

“Yeah, I told them to lay low and keep the shop closed,” Seokjin briskly explains as he makes his way to the square. Jimin follows after him, only a couple steps behind. “Things are going to be pretty rowdy today.”

“Is it true what Tariq has done? He brought mages into New Haven?”

Seokjin stops so abruptly that Jimin runs into him. He turns to face the florist, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Is that a problem?”

For a very brief second, Jimin looks conflicted. But he says, “No. It isn’t.”

Two mortals stare at each other, once on the same ground when Seokjin was still a warden, and now, assumingly, on opposite sides. Raised Devoted, Seokjin has been warned all his life about the evils of magic and mages, but it isn’t until he met you that his heart has changed. That magic could be beautiful and mages can be kind. But Jimin doesn’t know your secrets or the shop’s affinity with the unnatural. If he did, would he still oppose you all? Or would he stand together with Seokjin again?

“Seokjin? You’re here?”

Both of them turn and, to his surprise, Jaehwan is there. Seokjin hasn’t seen his friends since the guild had split up with the others choosing to follow Adnan. He offers a small smile, but it quickly fades when he sees the concerned look on Jaehwan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“You better come to the town square. It’s getting bad.”

The last time the town square was this crowded, there was a fair for the guilds to bring in new recruits. People far and wide came to New Haven with the promise of new adventures, meeting new comrades, honing their skills, and opportunities for wealth. The eagerness and excitement from that day is still fresh in Seokjin’s mind.

Riots fill the streets. Opposing sides are brawling against each other and damaging property. Some are trying to contain the crowd, but their demands fall on deaf ears as arguments continue to escalate. A mob of people form around the stage where Tariq and the mages are. Vile things are shouted to their faces. Garbage and food are thrown at them. Even from his distance, Seokjin can see the mages are still cuffed with bonds that suppress their magic, terrified and defenseless.

“What’s happened here?” Seokjin asks when he, Jimin, and Jaehwan join the rest of Team Seokjin. They looked relieved to see him, happy that the team is reunited again, though they clearly wish it was under better circumstances.

“Tariq is holding a demonstration,” Byulyi informs stiffly.

Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow together. “A what?”

“Fear not, friends. The New Order – our new guild – will have everything under control,” Tariq assures the crowd, as if the hatred isn’t directed at them. “Soon, we won’t have to look at these mages as enemies, but as allies. I’ve seen with my own eyes what they can become once they unlock their full potential. Together, with the mages, The New Order will be an unstoppable force.”

“He’s truly gone mad,” Jaehwan murmurs with a frown. Even Jimin stiffens slightly at what Tariq is implying.

The younger brother suddenly grabs the male mage and drags him away from the others. He seems to be commanding him to do something, and the male shakes his head and trembles. At his refusal, Tariq extends his hand toward one of his lackeys, who gives him a cat o’ nine tails whip.

The first strike has the entire crowd silenced. Heeyeon gasps and covers her mouth, eyes wide. Junghwan’s jaw falls open. Byulyi and Sunwoo avert their gaze immediately once they realize what’s happening. The others are stunned in a mix of shock and horror.

The second strike, Seokjin doesn’t even think. He doesn’t realize he’s making his way toward the crowd to stop them until he feels his friends pull him back.

But it’s after the third strike when the male mage finally gives in. On a clear, cloudless day in New Haven, the weather changes. Snow begins to fall from the sky.

Seokjin is taken back to that day in the library of Blackstone Castle, where you showed him the beauty of your magic for the first time. How you remembered that he liked the snow, but hated the cold, and made a winter wonderland for him.

This time, as Seokjin sees the snow fall, he feels sick to his stomach.

Tariq has proven his point. The mages, through methods of torture and pain, are under his command. One hint of disobedience, and he’ll be sure to break them physically and mentally. The public flogging is only a small taste of the lengths Tariq would do, and if they are successful, they’ll recruit more mages. Under the guise of equality and freedom, the mages who join would be doomed to a fate worse than imprisonment in their heavily-guarded fortresses.

When Seokjin became a warden, he was taught that he needed to protect people from the mages. Over time, he’s learned that it’s the other way around. In many cases, it’s the mages that need protecting.

“You’re not going to work for that guy, are you?” Junghwan asks him as the crowd around them begin to disperse.

“Even though they’re mages, that’s still too cruel,” Sunwoo quietly agrees with a frown. It seems like the others share the same sentiment. Many mages get locked away as soon as they awaken their powers, so it wouldn’t surprise Seokjin if his friends have never seen a mage until now.

“I’m not going to work for him. But I can’t let him keep hurting those mages,” Seokjin decides as his gaze turns to Jimin. The florist has been awfully quiet.

Jimin meets his gaze, but his expression is unreadable. Then, quietly, he asks, “Why do you care so much about them? You’re only human.”

“I care because I’m human. Whatever your stance with magic is, I don’t care, but this isn’t right. Mages are humans like us. They bleed the same as we do. They feel the same emotions: fear, anger, joy, sadness, love.” Seokjin holds himself back, almost slipping that Jimin, of all people, would know this as much as he does. He looks at his other friends and tells them, “I understand if you guys see me differently because of this. I didn’t join Tariq because I agreed with his methods, but he was the only one in town that had me believe he’d give everyone a fair chance.”

But he was clearly wrong. Tariq treats the mages worse than animals. He doesn’t need to point it out for them to know that.

There’s a short silence that falls between them. Even Jimin frowns in silence as he thinks about what Seokjin said.

Then, Junghwan looks around and asks, “So, what’s our plan?”

Seokjin blinks at him. “What do you mean?”

Byulyi smiles. “Well, we can’t be Team Seokjin without you, right?”

Unfortunately, it’s impossible for Seokjin’s plan to happen overnight.

First, he’d have to find out where Tariq keeps the mages. Even on their journey back to New Haven, he has them tightly secured and under his control. On the rare occasions Seokjin even saw them, they were never without Tariq or any of his trusted men.

Taehyung perches on Seokjin’s shoulder when he attends the first guild meeting of the New Order. Tariq rambles on about his vision of the future: conquering quests and vanquishing foes with magic, expanding overseas, having a powerful army under his command. When the meeting is finally adjourned, the raven follows the leader of the New Order.

It isn’t until later that evening when Taehyung returns and informs, “He keeps them in a cellar. There’s a key to it around his neck.”

“That’s going to be hard to get,” Hoseok points out with a frown.

“What are things that Tariq likes?” Namjoon asks Seokjin.

“Fighting, coins, beer, women,” Seokjin lists, then pauses. Several gazes drift to you.

“No fucking way,” Yoongi hisses, standing in front of you. “We’re not going to use her to be objectified by those people.”

“It’s fine, Yoongi. I want to help,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. You can tell the others are uncomfortable with the idea as well. “I just have to talk to the guy until someone gets the key, right?”

“Flirting would help,” Namjoon adds, a bit regretful for even bringing it up with the way his jaw clenches at the idea. He glances at your breasts and mutters, “Showing some cleavage too.”

“Namjoon!” Hoseok snaps.

“It’s a suggestion!” he shouts, throwing his hands up in defense. “Her body is nice! I really like it!”

“You don’t have to do this, angel. I’m planning on asking Byulyi and Heeyeon to help too,” Seokjin reminds you, taking our hand in his.

“I can take care of myself,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. More quietly, you ask, “You’ll watch over me, right?”

Just as softly, he promises, “I always do.”

“Good.” You lean back with a smile. “Because if this Tariq guy tries anything, you might have to hold me back from taking him down.”

Seokjin laughs and kisses your hand. “I would love to see it.”

Then, he’d need to figure out how to break them free without anyone noticing. With all of New Haven knowing that there are mages in the town, it feels like everyone is high on alert. Keeping them in the shop is out of the question. Seokjin doesn’t want to risk anyone recognizing them and putting you and the others in danger.

“My uncle might be able to get them out of town,” Jaehwan tells him when Team Seokjin reunites after the demonstration. “He travels pretty often, so he rarely keeps up with news about the town and the guilds. If we can pitch in some coins, I’m sure he won’t mind dropping them off on his next trip.”

“I know a lady who might be able to take them in for a few days,” Byulyi quietly brings up with a sad smile. “Her daughter had an awakening. She couldn’t do anything to stop the wardens from separating them, but she’s helped a couple mages since then.”

Seokjin nods, feeling a bit hopeful. Maybe this can all work out after all.

As they pass through the marketplace, someone catches Sunwoo’s attention. He nudges Junghwan, who looks over. “Whoa, who’s that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve seen her around town before,” Sunwoo says, eyes glued to someone in the crowd. “Do you reckon she’s new?”

Seokjin doesn’t know who they’re talking about, but as he looks up, his heart flutters at who he does see.

You.

Unexpectedly, you’re by the fruit stand, carefully examining apples before placing them into your basket with some eggs and flour. At your ankles is Yoongi in his cat form, seemingly having a staring contest with a toddler who keeps trying to pull away from her mother to pet him.

Like a moth to flame, and much to his friends’ surprise, Seokjin walks straight toward you. “Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, Jin! Hello.” You smile happily when you see him, equally surprised to be running into him at this time. “I’m thinking of baking apple pastries for the boys. Want to help me make them?”

“I’m busy right now,” he tells you, and it’s then that you notice that he’s with company. “But if you haven’t started when I get home, I’ll help.”

“Okay.” You wave hello to the group that are just staring at you two. A mix of shy smiles and knowing smirks are on their faces as they wave back.

“Ah, I should introduce you,” Seokjin scolds himself as he places his hand on the small of your back and faces his friends. He tells you each of their names. “Guys, this is—”

“Your wife?” Jaehwan finishes.

“Wife?” you repeat as Seokjin’s eyes widen.

“Ah. The neck-biter.” Heeyeon states with a glint in her eyes. Seokjin’s entire face feels incredibly hot as you look at him, thoroughly confused.

“Jin, what are they talking ab—”

“Honey, I don’t think you have enough ingredients in your basket. Why don’t you buy more apples?” he interrupts, giving you his entire pocket money. Even in his cat form, he could swear he saw Yoongi rolling his eyes.

You blink in surprise, but laugh in disbelief. “Sure. I’ll see you at home, husband.”

If Seokjin was a mage, he’d probably have the ground swallow him whole right then and there. There’s still a curious look on your face as you kiss him briefly and wave goodbye to his friends. But for now, you don’t question it. Instead, you pick up Yoongi and turn your attention back to the elderly woman selling apples.

Byulyi throws him a knowing smile. “So, that’s her huh?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” Seokjin confirms bashfully, rubbing his neck.

“No wonder he always wants to go home after missions,” Junghwan comments. “I would too if my wife was that pretty.”

It will also take time for Seokjin to get into Tariq’s good graces, have him trust him enough not to warrant any suspicions. Without a team, it’s harder to do these difficult missions alone. It also doesn’t feel good biding his time while he knows that mages are suffering the longer he stalls.

“Here.”

“What’s this?” Seokjin asks, taking the map from Jimin. It’s of New Haven, but there are certain areas that are marked and circled.

“Those are the coordinates of hunter territories,” Jimin carefully explains as Seokjin’s eyes widen. “If you’re going to sneak those mages out, you need to avoid those areas. Especially during the witching hour.”

“How did you find this?” he asks, a bit baffled. He hadn’t even considered hunters would be patrolling around as well. “Did you steal it from a hunter?”

Jimin merely shrugs. “I want to help too.”

“Thank you! This is really helpful!” Seokjin praises as he continues to look it over. He notices that each hunter has initials, and frowns when he sees just how many there are in New Haven now. Ever since Blackstone Castle’s fall, it seems more of them have moved into town.

His eyes linger to where the shop is and notices that there’s a designated hunter marked there too. At least, there was. Black ink crosses out the initials, but if Seokjin were to hold the map up under a certain light, he might be able to read it.

J.M.

But finally, things are starting to fall into place. They only have one shot to get this right, and failure is not an option.

Everything goes according to plan.

After a successful quest, the New Order has taken over the shop’s tavern. A feast fit for kings is being served to them, as well as endless rounds of ale and lager. Music plays a lively tune in the background of the boisterous laughter and noisy chatter. The shop’s residents are all in position: Namjoon behind the counter, Yoongi cooking in the kitchen, Hoseok tending the bar, Taehyung in charge of entertainment and setting the mood, Jungkook standing guard and forcibly escorting people out when they’ve have too much. And then, there’s you.

You’re doing your usual tasks as well: cleaning tables, serving food and drinks, collecting coins after meals, and chatting up customers. Tonight, you pay extra attention to the leader of the New Order, smiling sweetly and fluttering your eyelashes when he speaks. You indulge in his stories of his latest conquests, fascinated with how the war-time hero managed to save his men from perilous dangers, and fake-laugh your way through his flirtatious advances. Sometimes, you’d follow Namjoon’s advice and subtly push out your chest or sway your hips when he has his eye on you.

And it’s working. Perhaps, a little too well.

You have Tariq’s full attention. But Seokjin can’t stop staring at you either.

When you pass by, Seokjin waves you over. When you’re close enough, he motions you down and asks against your ear, “How’s it going?”

“Hard,” you admit, keeping your voice low as if you’re afraid one of the patrons would eavesdrop in the conversation. “I feel so awkward.”

Seokjin pulls back and looks around the tavern. Most of Tariq’s crew are starting to pass out from gluttony. The delicious food and alcohol that keep coming from the kitchen and bar make it too easy to overindulge. One bite sends tastebuds to euphoria; one sip has them craving for more. Listening carefully, it isn’t just the music that’s playing on a loop, but so is the sound of their laughter and chatter, making it hard to tell that one by one, Tariq’s men are starting to surrender to their slumber.

Part of it could be from eating and drinking too much. But more-likely, it’s from the sleep powder Yoongi and Hoseok have slowly been slipping into their food and drinks. With bellies full and their thirst quenched, they won’t remember anything when they wake: not the shop, not any of your faces, and not what will transpire tonight.

Tariq, none the wiser, sits in the middle of the tavern. He doesn’t notice that his men are slowly disappearing, being escorted by Namjoon and Jungkook into a mysterious door at the entrance of the shop. He doesn’t notice how one chef and one bartender could produce such a quantity of excellent foods and drinks within seconds, or that they’ve been tampered with. He doesn’t notice the seamlessly endless loop of music, ambiguous chatter, clinks of utensils, and faint laughter around him as Taehyung steps away from the parlor to assist you.

All Tariq can focus on is you. He can’t take his eyes off you. The glamor spell you put on yourself makes it hard for him to look away.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a natural,” Seokjin replies, turning his gaze back to you. Then, more seriously, he reminds you, “If you start to feel uncomfortable, we can call it off and go with another plan.”

“I’m okay because you’re here,” you tell him honestly. You trust Seokjin more than anyone, and he feels his heart race at your words as you smile at him softly. So sweet and innocent. Then, you lean toward his ear again and confess, “Besides, I pretend that it’s you I’m trying to seduce.”

His eyes widen, frozen from shock, as you casually pull away and return to your duties. He feels his entire face flush red as you look over your shoulder and smirk at him.

Perhaps, you’re having more fun with this than he initially thought.

The little exchange between you two doesn’t go unnoticed. Tariq suddenly waves for him to sit at his table. The key to the cellar hangs around his neck. Seokjin sees it as he slips into the seat in front of him.

“She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Tariq inquires, gesturing at you with a nod of his head. “I saw you eyeing her all evening.”

“She’s beautiful,” Seokjin replies sincerely. With or without the glamor, Seokjin always thought you were attractive. He sees you working hard for the remaining guests, asking Taehyung to clear out a couple tables while a group calls you for more drinks.

“You like her, huh? Don’t worry. I won’t tell your wife,” Tariq jokes with a sly smile. A rush of heat colors Seokjin’s face red. He’s forgotten how everyone in the Freelancers, including Tariq and his friends, think he’s a married man. “I think she might have a sweet spot for me. I told her I’m going to change the world by bringing mages into the guilds. She asked me how that’s possible, and you know what I said?”

“What?”

“Control,” he casually answers with a sadistic glint in his eye. “You have to put them under your thumb. Let them know their place. These mages are vicious forces, and they have the power over all things natural and unnatural. Humans like us have to show them who is in command.”

“Or you could respect them,” Seokjin counters with a frown. “Mages are humans too.”

As a former warden, Seokjin has seen the abuse of power over mages first-hand. How worthless their lives are to the Devoted, who weed them out through Harrowings and false claims of corruption. Eventually, the mages will fight back. Like Adriel. Like the forest mage. And, inevitably, like you.

Tariq scoffs and waves you over. “Funny. She said the same thing.”

“Hello, sir. What can I get for you?” you direct your question to Tariq, but your eyes flicker briefly to Seokjin. The two of you are pretending not to know each other – the less Tariq and his men know about his personal connections to the shop, the better – but Seokjin can tell that you’re a little nervous.

“I just wanted to let you know that my buddy thinks you’re very beautiful,” Tariq tells you, trying to tease Seokjin.

You turn to him with a knowing smile. “Does he?”

“I do,” he replies, honest. Without thinking, his hand reaches out from under the table to touch the back of your leg. You nearly jump from contact, throwing him a bewildered look, but Seokjin remains cool, calm, and collected. There’s a small, smug smirk on his lips. Payback for what you told him earlier.

“I think he’s very handsome too,” you say, a bit flustered. It’s cute that you’re trying not to let him affect you. But he can feel the way your body tenses beneath his fingertips, how forced your smile is as you look at him nervously because Tariq is right there.

Seokjin doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. When he reached out, he meant to just comfort you, let you know that he’s there if you need him. Maybe it’s because you’re flirting with another man. Maybe it’s the way Tariq is looking at you. But the way Seokjin’s fingers tease up the hem of your dress becomes a bit possessive. A subtle reminder that, at the end of the day, you’re still his.

“Two ales for me and the kid, pretty thing,” Tariq finally orders, unaware of what’s going on with you two.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” you tell him with a pleasant smile, and nudge Seokjin’s hand away. As you turn to leave, you shoot him a look. And Seokjin has the audacity to wink back at you.

“I think she might have a sweet spot for you too,” Tariq comments as he watches you leave. His gaze lingers a little too long for Seokjin’s liking. “How was your mission?”

“It went well. As expected,” Seokjin lies with ease. Before coming to the shop, he was personally tasked to take care of some goons Tariq had a hit on. People he suspects are conspiring against him. Little does he know, Seokjin plans to do the same.

You give Hoseok the order, both of you eyeing the table where Tariq and Seokjin are. When Seokjin gives the signal – a very slight nod of his head – Hoseok grabs two clean glasses and fills them with ale.

“I knew I could count on you,” Tariq continues with a proud smile. Instead of killing them off, Seokjin had warned them of Tariq’s intentions and told them to skip town for a while. “I think you have the potential of being a great guild leader one of these days.”

“You think so?”

Seokjin watches as Hoseok sprinkles a light-blue powder in one of the drinks and mixes it in. A faint smoke emerges from it, indicating that it’s been tampered with.

“I see a lot of myself in you, kid. You’re driven, strong, and with a good head. You’re not influenced by the bullshit ideals that my brother and most of the town believes.” He pauses as he looks at Seokjin curiously. “Are you Devoted?”

“I was raised to be, but my beliefs don’t align with the teachings anymore.”

Before he hands the drinks to you, Hoseok tells you which one is which. You nod your head, making sure you don’t mix them up as you start to walk toward their table.

“Good. Same as me,” Tariq agrees with an approving nod. “The Devoted like to think their war against the mages is a noble cause, but at the end of the day, war is nothing but death and destruction. It doesn’t matter if the enemies you’re against are magical or not. I hope your family doesn’t give you a hard time about it like mine does.”

“Here you go. Two ales,” you announce as you place the cold drinks in front of them. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“I think we’re good for now,” Seokjin answers, looking at you with a softer expression. The hardest part is almost over. It’ll be easy to snatch the key around his neck once the potion hits. “Thank you.”

“This is an interesting place you found here, kid,” Tariq tells him, looking around the shop. Something about this place feels so whimsical and enchanting. “I know New Haven like the back of my head, but I’ve never been here before. It’s almost magical.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Seokjin chuckles and raises his glass to Tariq. “To the New Order and to you, Tariq.”

“To the New Order.”

Clink.

Their glasses touch and they take a drink. For a moment, the loop of music and background ambiance stops. It’s quiet, and the shop’s residents watch as the golden liquid slides down Tariq’s throat. He finishes the last drop, and once he sets down the glass, everything resumes as normal. The lively tune plays on, and all of you are back to work and taking care of the remaining customers.

Everything is going exactly as planned.

Until it doesn’t.

“You’re really working that thing, aren’t you?”

Nearby, a group of drunk men have turned their attention to you. Seokjin sees their hungry stares before you meet their gaze. The way their eyes trail up and down your body, lingering blatantly on your ass and tits. He sees their smirks and hears their snickers as another man faces you and pats his leg. “Yeah, why don’t you take a break and sit with us, sweet thing?”

Seokjin feels his whole body tense up, ready to step in and snap at them to leave you alone. Tariq watches as well, more humored than angry, as his men drunkenly cat-call you and make lewd remarks.

“No, no. I’m quite busy,” you tell them firmly. Your eyes lock with Seokjin as well, a wordless assurance that you can handle yourself.

In situations like this, Namjoon would take over certain tables when they become too rowdy. He’d be the one who’d calmly but sternly have them wrap things up before they cause a scene. Before things escalate.

“Don’t be like that, baby. Come on. Give us a smile. We’re just trying to be nice.”

But Namjoon, nor any of the other boys, have realized what’s happening yet.

The men chuckle darkly, and the way that they continue to undress you with their eyes makes Seokjin’s blood boil. It’s subtle, but the lights around the shop flicker briefly, as if a breeze has just passed through. As if the shop senses your uneasiness.

“I think you’ve all had enough to drink,” you start, glaring at the men before you.

“For a pretty girl, you sure are a bitch with a smart mouth,” one guy remarks as he suddenly grabs your arm. “Instead of talking back, why don’t I show you what else your mouth can—”

Ice-cold water from a canister is unceremoniously dumped on his head. The man instantly lets you go, and Taehyung pulls you close to him. Soaking wet, the man turns to the raven familiar and the empty canister in his hand.

With a blank face, Taehyung casually tells him, “It looks like you need to cool off.”

“Asshole!” the man snaps, getting into Taehyung’s face. A plate shatters to the ground, causing the remaining patrons – and the other residents of the shop – to stop what they’re doing and see what’s going on.

Taehyung remains unfazed by his aggression, but moves you behind him.

Before Seokjin realizes what he’s doing, he suddenly stands up and makes his way toward you two before the others do. He pushes the man away from Taehyung.

“Back off. Don’t you dare touch them.”

“Didn’t you see what this fucker did? If this little slut—”

The man yelps in pain when Seokjin suddenly grabs the front of his shirt and shoves him hard against the table. Plates and utensils clatter, and drinks spill over. Tension rises as the friends he was eating with stand up as well.

“I’m only going to warn you one more time,” Seokjin informs, his voice low and with an anger you’ve rarely seen in him. “Leave my friends alone, or I won’t hesitate to run a sword through you.”

Stubbornly, the man grits his teeth and clenches his hand into a fist. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?”

“Guys, that’s enough. Apologize to the pretty lady and her friends,” Tariq commands as the fist comes close to Seokjin’s jaw. The man looks ready to argue, but even he knows he can’t go against the leader’s orders. And once a half-hearted apology is made, Tariq continues to look at Seokjin curiously. “It seems you know about this shop and the people here more than you let on, kid.”

Seokjin doesn’t know when, but all the other boys are suddenly with you. Jungkook cracks his neck, mouth twitching as he stares at the group with darkened eyes. Yoongi stares at the group with a look that could put a wrath demon to shame. Hoseok has his hand firmly on your wrist as Namjoon murmurs for Taehyung to take you to Jimin’s.

Not because you necessarily need protection.

But because they know how fiercely protective you are of Seokjin.

Seeing the man nearly hit Seokjin made you furious. Seokjin realizes that Hoseok is holding your wrist so you don’t use magic, murmuring against your temple to calm down. Even as Taehyung tugs you to come with him, you refuse to budge. Your eyes are glued to the group of men, and perhaps it’s the lighting, but Seokjin had seen that look on your face once before.

When you almost turned Wicked.

Yoongi steps in front of you, blocking your view of them and Seokjin. Whatever he says to you snaps you out of it. And when Seokjin peeks at you, your eyes are still the same. No trace of golden Wickedness in your irises. Even though you’re still angry and refuse to leave him out of your sight.

“I should’ve known this was some kind of set up,” Tariq begins, laughing in disbelief. “What’s this all about, Seokjin? Do you want money? Glory? Who the hell are these people anyway?”

Seokjin turns to him. In a tavern where most of his men have been knocked out, and where the remaining will soon forget, a truth is revealed. “This is my family.”

“Looks more like a coven to me,” Tariq states, eyeing the others. It starts to make sense to him why Seokjin picked his side over his brother’s. Why he seemed so concerned about the mages to begin with. “Is this about the demonstration? You’re upset that I hurt one of your kind, aren’t you?”

“Boss…” the man behind Seokjin croaks out, voice heavy with sleep. He wobbles on his feet and his eyes roll to the back of his head before the spell overcomes him.

One by one, the others start to fall into a deep sleep as well. And it’s only then that Tariq realizes he’s the last man standing. Without his crew, and for the first time in a very long while, Tariq looks terrified. “What have you done? What did you do to us?”

“Don’t worry. You won’t remember,” Seokjin assures him, stepping closer to him. “Not this shop, not any of our faces, not even the mages you tortured after the mission. To you, it will be just a dream. And you and your men will travel far from here and won’t harm another mage again. Am I clear?”

Tariq nods his head, eyes glazed over as the command settles in. His body begins to relax, fall sluggish, and then he slowly starts to slip to the ground. Already, the faces of Seokjin, you, and the others begin to blur before his eyes. Memories start to escape him. He wants to travel, get out of town, sail the seas, but to where?

“Good,” Seokjin finishes, holding out his hand as the hypnosis takes its effect completely and Tariq begins to pass out. “Now hand me the key around your neck.”

In the dark and damp cellar, three mages are barely alive. Old and fresh wounds are all over their bodies, and it feels like months since they’ve eaten anything but scraps of moldy bread or rusty water. They’ve lost count of their days, but at this point, anything is better than this hell, even the Veil itself.

A flinch of fear twitches in their bodies when the sound of the cellar key unlocks. It must be that man again, coming to torture them more, until they’re obedient like dogs to use as tools for his quests.

“Are you guys in here?”

One of the women dares to lift her head, seeming to recognize the voice calling out to the darkness. Her voice is barely a whisper when she answers, “Yes, we’re here.”

Light shines upon them like a candle of hope. And Seokjin is holding the torch. He looks relieved to see them, to see that they’re still alive, but frowns at the urgent conditions they’re in. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out small vials. “These should help a little.”

As the liquid touches their lips, they’re surprised. It’s a healing potion.

Already, the warm and rejuvenating effects surges an energy in them. Pain melts away in an instant. Life starts to shine back into their eyes. It’s a small and temporary fix, but it’s the best they’ve felt in ages.

With stiff and sore joints and muscles, they help each other out of the dark cellar and under the bright moon and its blanket of stars. Tears fall from the male mage’s eyes as he leans his weight on his friend, barely able to walk on his own. The team Seokjin was with is there to meet them, and Seokjin explains that they will help them safely get out of town and to a place where they can stay for a little while.

There is another group with them as well. Two male mages, one female mage, and their familiars. Another human is with them too, astonished by an entire guild of ruthless, cutthroat men snoring away as you all help carry them into Tariq’s house.

“Is that them?” the female mage that Seokjin had talked to after the mission inquires, looking at you all. Seokjin follows her gaze and sees Jungkook flexing to impress you before he hoists one of the bodies over his shoulder.

“Yeah. That’s my family.”

“Family, huh? That’s nice,” she continues. Despite how hectic and draining the night has been, you laugh and playfully smack Jungkook as you follow him inside. It’s once the two of you are out of sight where she finally looks away. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.”

“Ah, that’s right. My name is Seokjin,” he says, a bit embarrassed that he had planned a whole rescue mission and didn’t even properly introduce himself yet. “And you?”

She smiles. “You can call me Lilah.”

“We’ve been here for hours and we didn’t catch anything,” Taehyung whines, visibly glum that the group decided to return back empty-handed. Hoseok chuckles and pats his shoulder to comfort him.

“It was still fun. I liked it,” Yoongi admits as Seokjin practically beams at him.

“What about you, honey? Did you like it?” he asks you, hoping you had a good time. Though, he can’t help but feel a bit disappointed that your first fishing trip together wasn’t as action-packed as he’d like.

“I won’t lose points with your parents if we show up without a fish?” you ask him, half-joking but also like you’re ready to go back out there and use magic to lure in the biggest catch if he says you would.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin says, putting his arm around you. “We can go to the market, buy a fish there, and say we caught it.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Namjoon mutters, thinking about it.

“Oh! I want to look at the marketplace here!” Jungkook states, eyes wide with interest when he realizes there might be new food to try in this small town.

Seokjin laughs. “We can go check some places out, but we’re not lying to my parents.”

The trip that Seokjin has been wanting to take you all to was finally happening. After saving up for it, and pushing it back, all of you have arrived at his small, fisherman town. Not much has changed since he left, and his parents were surprised that he had returned home with so many people eager to meet them.

But after they received his letters, they were equally eager to meet you. The one who changed their son to be a braver, more open-minded man. To see with their own eyes that their son is still good and hard-working, and is also very-well loved by his new-found family.

After a quick trip to the market, you, Seokjin, and Yoongi prepare a nice dinner for his parents. The rest of your group offer to clean up afterwards. As Seokjin adds vegetables into his stew, he hears his mother call for him to her bedroom.

“This belonged to my grandmother,” she tells him, revealing an old ring she’s been looking for. “When you marry that girl, use this ring.”

Seokjin smiles as he looks at it. He feels touched, surprised, but also sad. Mages aren’t allowed to marry. There won’t be a beautiful ceremony for you and Seokjin that his parents would attend. Giving you the ring won’t change the way things currently are between you and him now.

“I will, Mom. Thank you.”

“It’s beautiful, Jin.”

You look down at the ring around your finger. Under the sunlight, the diamonds sparkle beautifully. It reminds you of stars, and the way the surfaces of clear water glimmer. Coincidentally, it has seven stones embedded in the band.

“Even if it’s just pretend, my mom will be happy when she sees you wear it next time.”

You look up at Seokjin, and you see him staring at the ring as well. It’s a perfect fit.

A moment of silence passes between you two before you finally ask, “Jin, why do you pretend that we’re married?”

He meets your gaze, a bit embarrassed now. He remembers when you met his friends at the marketplace and how they referred to you as his wife. Awkwardly, he looks away again and rubs his neck. “Oh, they just assumed. I never bothered to correct them.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Maybe it makes him happy to pretend as well.

“Do you want to marry me?”

He sighs. “You know I would if— why are you kneeling?”

When he looks back at you, you’re kneeling on the ground, holding his hand with the ring he had put on your finger. Then, you wrap your pinky around his.

“I don’t know if I’m doing this right,” you tell him, a bit shyly. “But maybe we can find someone who can officiate us. Maybe if the other guys want to be married too, we can include them. Maybe we can find our own way to make it work. But I love you, Kim Seokjin. I truly do. And if you’ll have me, I wouldn’t be opposed to having a worldwide handsome husband either.”

Seokjin stares at you, shocked, happy, and so full of love. He laughs and kneels down with you, holding your face in his hands as he kisses you.

Two weeks later, after you and the others return from the trip, Seokjin meets up with his team at the shop. They look around in awe and wonder before settling in the tavern. It feels strange that it wasn’t that long ago that everything with Tariq had happened.

Now, he’s embarking on a new journey overseas with his trusted men. None of them remember what had happened after they woke up. Tariq doesn’t even remember why he and his brother have fought, but he had decided that staying in New Haven was no longer what he wanted to do anymore. And Adnan could run the Freelancers however he pleases without arguing with his brother all the time.

Seokjin got word that the mages made it safely to a place, but the one named Lilah had left the group and seemingly disappeared.

The other boys were upset that Seokjin didn’t give them a head’s up about giving you the ring or the proposal, but none of them were opposed to the idea of marrying you eventually either. Even Jimin returned to the flower shop and muttered about trying to find a ring that he had somewhere.

“Here’s some drinks for everyone,” you announce, setting down the beverages in front of each of them. Seokjin murmurs his thanks and pulls you down for a quick kiss. It makes Byulyi and Junghwan scrunch their noses as Sunwoo, Heeyeon, and Jaehwan smile at him.

“So, you and your wife are doing well,” Heeyeon remarks, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

“She’s great. We’re great,” Seokjin confirms with a tiny, shy smile. No one else is at the shop at this time, so you talk to Hoseok at the bar and pet Yoongi, who is sleeping on it in his cat form.

“I guess you could say things have been pretty magical lately?” Jaehwan inquires as Seokjin turns to him, surprised.

Byulyi laughs at his expression. “We figured it out a long time ago, Jin. It’s okay. We won’t tell anyone about them.”

“Oh. Okay.” He sighs with relief. “They’re the reason why I had to save those mages.”

“We know,” Sunwoo says with a smile. “It was kind of nice doing a mission like that. Without Adnan or Tariq. Just us, your mage wife, and your magical friends.”

Junghwan groans. “What are we going to do now? I still want to go on quests with you guys, but I don’t think I want to join the Freelancers again.”

“They’re slowly becoming like any other guild now,” Heeyeon agrees, shaking her head. After the rescue mission, they don’t think they could join another guild that sees mages as enemies either.

Seokjin is quiet as he thinks about the past few months. He used to be traditional, following his orders and duties diligently, listening to words of the Devoted. Now, he’s changed a lot as he thinks about what Tariq said, about how you and him are willing to make things work in your own way, how they’ve all started to see mages as friends and not enemies.

“Why don’t we just make our own guild?” Seokjin suggests, as he looks at his friends before him. They look back at him with interested looks and excited smiles. “We’ve done missions on our own before. We can do it again.”

“Yeah, we can just register as our own guild in the town square and start off by taking missions at the local community board,” Byulyi reasons, already starting to organize it together. “We’ll need a name though. What should we call ourselves?”

Seokjin glances at you and sees all the things he’s promised to you with the ring you wear around your finger. “Let’s call ourselves the Oathkeepers.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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#magic shop series #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin smut #bts fantasy au #bts smut #bts magic au #bts fanfic #bts witch au

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i-got-ur-nose · 8 months

Text

Two Slow Dancers (Last Ones Out)

Rafael Barba x Reader

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a hospital setting, everything is very vague tho lmao

(this is a vent LMFAO)

((sorry not sorry <3))

She could smell the bourbon on his breath when he let her in. Her eyes tracked the way that his jaw clenched and then unclenched— something he did to calm himself down whenever he was on the brink of losing his composure.

This time was different though.

It wasn’t some insolent witness that was just getting on his nerves or a criminal that was too difficult for even him to handle. No. This was different. It was her that was causing him to act like this.

Only she could rile him up in such a way that he was itching to break something. Her and her eyes. Stoic and masked— he loathed to love her eyes.

“You promised that this guy wasn’t going to walk.” she reminded evenly. Rafael scoffed, meeting her gaze with a very specific kind of annoyance.

“Would you like to become the Assistant District Attorney and see for yourself what it is I have to do everyday?” The venom in his voice was clear as day.

“You promised—”

“I know what I promised.” He hissed, bristling anger she had already been trying to stuff down.

“If you would just—”

“Why so you can make me feel worse about myself?” Her mouth dropped open, face radiating nothing but heat.

“You promised—”

“Sometimes promises can’t be kept!” He shouted, cutting her off. The volume of his voice had grown to something that she had never heard before. Her eyes drifted from his screwed shut ones and down to his hands. The tremors were visible from where she sat.

Without saying a single word, she stood up from the leather chair he kept in the corner of his office and glided to the space right in front of his desk.

Right in front of him.

He still had his head down, his shoulders so tense that she was sure he was going to turn to stone. A knot formed in the middle of her chest, threatening to choke her from the inside out. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.

“You,” He said roughly before taking a deep breath a meeting her eyes. The watery green almost knocking the wind out of her. “You are the single most important thing to me in the world.” His breathing was coming out harder than before. “Nothing else.” He waved a hand in front of his body, the other still holding him up over his desk.

“I-”

“Please let me finish.” He cuts her off again. She swallows thickly, but nonetheless nods for him to continue.

“I messed up. I got too close— too personal.” He admits. “When I saw him, all I saw was you in th-the hospital and I…” He breaks himself away from the train of thought forcefully.

“I fucked it and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. But I swear to God, hermosa…” the nickname springs tears to her eyes. “The second the chance is mine, I’ll take it. He’ll never see the light of day again.”

She nods, trying to blink back the tears.

“Can I go now?” She tries to quirk a half-assed smile. Rafael huffs a dry laugh but nods.

“You promised me that he wouldn’t walk.” She started off and Raf looked like he had just been kicked in the gut. “But that means nothing if you aren’t by my side.” She was glad that she was able to get that out before the tears that she had tried so hard to keep down fought their way down her face.

Rafael crossed to her in two strides, crushing her in a hug that could have fed her for a thousand years. One of his hands cradled her neck so carefully into his shoulder, while the other was wrapped firmly around her waist.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He whispered into her ear, softly kissing her temple over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”

She held his face in between her hands and smiled sadly, but not a single ounce not loving. A single tear made its way from Rafael’s eye and down his cheek. She brushed it away, kissing the skin that it had touched. They were going to be okay.

#law and order special victims unit #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #x reader #svu fanfiction #angst #raul esparza

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faetaiity · 1 year

Note

hey if it’s okay with you can you please write the rise turtles helping reader out with overstimulation? thank you! also delete/ignore if you don’t want to!

Hi! yeah, sure! I can write for this! But it's gonna be how I experience overstimulation, which makes me irritable, passive aggressive and want to be alone for the rest of the damn day- You didn't specify poly or separated so I went with separated because it was quicker to write.

Yeah, this is 100% self-indulgent.

Separate! Rise! Turtles x Overstimulated! GN! Reader

Post Format: Headcanons

CW: Crying, Leo getting depressed, mentions of separation anxiety + arguments, and Reader wanting to be left alone in their room for multiple hours (Not necessarily Isolation, but wanting to be in an environment that they can control) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raphie:

Is the best in terms of reaction

The worst reaction he has regarding you snapping at him is irritation, he will almost never snap back at you

He (mostly) doesn't blame you for your outbursts, he knows what you're going through, and he knows that you'd never snap at him without a valid reason

Hates when you stay in your room for hours by yourself, but he never intrudes when you're trying to calm down unless you're on the verge of doing something dangerous

Tries to keep overwhelming stimuli out of the lair when you're visiting

Yes, that usually can include Leo.

However, the first time you got overstimulated around him did go poorly

He kept asking you what was wrong, pretty much making you want not want to talk about it

At one point it got too much for the both of you (He started getting pushy, irritating you more and making him also start to become irritated) and you just went home to cool off

It took you the entire day to calm down

Once you did, you felt horrible and apologized to him, explaining you tend to get overstimulated really badly around noises and crowds

And asking questions or touching you makes it worse, because being overstimulated makes you easily agitated

He understands and you two talk about what irritates you during these times

He makes sure no-one else bothers you, so that you can calm down quicker

After you've calmed down, please spend time with him, despite the fact that he understands why you need to be left alone, he still feels distressed when you snap at him or can't stand being around anyone.

Leo:

Is the worst in terms of a reaction

He has separation anxiety, so when you leave for hours to calm down and relax, he gets whiny

Often texting you and BEGGING you to let him come in, he swears he won't do anything!

You learned that is a lie the hard way

You relented once, he came in and cuddled you, kissing your cheek softly, making your skin feel like it's getting pricked by needles

You didn't say anything that time, not wanting to hurt his feelings, you felt you could tolerate it as long as he didn't talk or ask questions

Despite the fact that he wants to be in your room while you're relaxing, he gets really aggressive if someone else tries to come in

He once yelled at Mikey to get out when Mikey came to ask you if he could borrow something for an art project

Mikey has never left your apartment quicker lmao

The first time you got overstimulated after you met him was a fucking wild ride

It was a giant argument, making you cry from frustration

He kept getting in your space and touching you up until you snapped at him

He instantly starts freaking out, trying to defend himself (from what you may ask? nothing rational, just thinking his crush suddenly hated his guts) and started asking questions, irritating you further until you left

He got into a depressive episode, almost crying because he thought you hated him, he pretty much was a bit of a simp since day one, so this was a blow to his false confidence

Once you calm down and talk to him, apologizing for your behavior, he calms down as well, understanding that you couldn't help it and that you didn't hate him.

He reacts a lot better now, but please give him attention when you're feeling better, because if he's the cause of your Overstimulation, he'll definitely be in a depressive episode until you are okay with him being around you again.

Donnie:

2nd best reaction out of all four.

ONLY second best because unlike Raph, he will snap back if in a sour mood or if he's overstimulated as well.

If asked, he will leave you alone, only texting you every few hours to see if you're okay

As I've mentioned, he also gets overstimulated, and will ask you if you can leave him alone for a few hours so he can relax.

Also gets aggressive if anyone tries to visit you

Especially Leo, because he's aware that Leo can overstimulate you more than most people can

First time you got overstimulated, he most likely realizes the signs early and backs off

Once you leave, he might wait a few hours before sending you a text

Donnie: Hey (Y/N), you okay? you were pretty irritable when you were here

He won't force you to talk about it, but he is there if you need to talk.

If for any reason, you can't leave while overstimulated, he'll take you into his lab, putting headphones and a weighted blanket on you for your comfort

After either of you calm down from being overstimulated, you two tend to seek each other out, usually to talk about what happened so perhaps you can avoid triggering each other.

Mikey:

Has the 2nd worst reaction

Only because he doesn't get extremely depressed like Leo when you go to cool off, but he's just as clingy

Doesn't like it when others come to bother you but isn't nearly as aggressive as the others.

The first time you got overstimulated around him, he got panicky and started asking you questions, causing you to become irritated

He starts crying a little once you snap at him and it hits you like a truck

You calm down enough to tell him that you just need time alone, which he tries to deny, not understanding why you want to leave him, but eventually he relents and lets you go home

Once you calm down you call him and tell him to come over

It takes him about 20 minutes to come but once he does, he instantly hugs you and apologizes over and over, for what you may ask? he doesn't know, all he knows is that he made you angry.

You tell him he didn't do anything wrong and sit him down to talk about it

He understands once you explain why you got so irritated by his response to you being overstimulated

He does still spend time with you, even when you're in your room trying to calm down

He doesn't interact with you, all he does is draw while on the floor.

When you calm down, please cuddle him, he'll feel so much better.

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

Made this at 1 am, sorry if it's ass lmao, me sleepy.

#rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x gn reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rottmnt #raphael #raph x reader #leonardo #leo x reader #donatello #donnie x reader #michelangelo #mikey x reader #fae being a dumbass #chaotic gremlin fae #fae rambles #fae rambling

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duchess-kyuupid · 1 year

Note

hi there

can you write idia’s reaction to his fem or gn s/o singing “good riddance” from Hades (the video game) pls? this song and idia both live rent free in my head rn lmao

have a nice day 😸

OMG You literally made my day with this ask, darling <333 I love Hades, and the first time I heard Eurydice singing it I was nearly brought to tears ToT Of course, I'll be more than happy to fulfill your request, and I hope that you enjoy!! For anyone who hasn't played Hades or just wants to listen to the song anon is referring to, here it is! (The audio comes out too loud for me, so I'd recommend lowering your volume a touch just in case! When I was testing it, the sound was just blaring into my ears and I don't know how to make it quieter;;)

~~~

~Idia Hears Fem! Reader Singing~

[Tw: Soft angst to comfort] *Don't need to know/play Hades to read*

To say that today has been a bad day for Idia Shroud would be an understatement. It's been one thing after another, each terrible thing piling up on his shoulders heavier than the last. They say that when it rains, it pours- and Idia feels that this statement could not be closer to the truth. He feels exhausted just thinking about how long this day has been, and it's barely even 3 pm! But he's had enough social interaction in all of today to make up for a lifetime of self-isolation. He's tired, his battery has run out- there's no chance that anyone's going to be seeing him leaving his room at least for the next week, and even when he does leave it'll be with his floating tablet.

At last he makes it back to his room, but he's far too tired to do anything but to crawl into his bed and lie there, doing nothing but hope to start feeling better. He doesn't want to see anyone, doesn't want to hear anyone, he just wants some peace and quiet, away from everything that's making him anxious. But apparently he can't even have that, as a sudden knock on his door pulls him away from his sulking. "Big brother, big brother! I have something to show you!" Ortho says excitedly, "I know you'll just love it! Can I come in?"

'I can't have Ortho seeing me like this,' Idia thinks, 'I'm just a useless Housewarden who can't do anything... Ortho doesn't need to see his brother being so cowardly, so utterly worthless that it'd be better if I'd just go back home to the underworld and never see this place again...'

"If you don't wanna open the door, I'll just play it for you from out here!" Ortho exclaims, and suddenly Idia is pulled from his gloomy thoughts when he hears a golden tune ring out from behind the door.

'Farewell, to all the earthly remains,' wait, Idia knows that voice... 'No burdens, No further debts to be paid,' that's the voice of the one person who could make his day even slightly better.

'Atlas, Can rest his weary bones, The weight of the world, All falls away, In time,' That's right, it's you. You're singing. To him.

'Goodbye, To all the plans that we made,' Wait, are you actually outside of the door with Ortho? You're actually here? To see him?

'No contracts, I’m free to do as I may,' Idia heard your voice continue to sing, to ring out beautifully as if your voice was weaving gold through a spindle.

And he couldn't take it any longer. He wanted to hear your singing, not through the door of his room, but right next to him, and he wanted to hold you and have all of his worries from today melt away with you in his arms. He rushes out of his bed and opens the door, his eyes glimmering with hope of seeing you behind it, only for the small smile that was invisibly growing on his face to extinguish when he realizes that Ortho was the only one there.

Ah, and now he feels even worse. His disappointment was so apparent, he didn't even try to hide it when his eyes met Ortho's big, bright, and innocent ones. He felt bad that he was so disappointed that it was his baby brother, because don't get him wrong, he absolutely adores Ortho, it's just-

It's just that today's been really long. He already felt shitty enough. But he should have known that you weren't going to actually be there, after all you were travelling outside of the college for once to see the world of Twisted Wonderland. You had told him before you left that you were going to be gone for a while, which makes him even more miserable, knowing that he won't be able to be with you when he's already so stressed out.

But is it really so bad that he had even a glimmer of hope? The hope that maybe, just maybe, you had decided to come back early and surprise him with a visit?

"There you are, big brother!" Ortho says, unaffected by Idia's visible disappointment in seeing him, "I know that you've been missing miss (Name) a lot recently, so I've got this recording of her singing for you!"

"U-uhm, thank you, Ortho...Where did you even get this recording from?" Idia asks timidly.

"I came across her one day when she was singing on her own in the woods! So I used the recording feature you installed in my programming so that I could show it to you," Ortho states, and even though his mouth was covered, you could basically hear his radiating smile. Idia smiles softly and his eyes soften as he replies,

"Thanks Ortho, would you mind sending me the file? I wanna listen to it through my headphones for a while."

"Of course, big brother! I've already sent it to your phone." Ortho 'smiles' brightly as Idia thanks him and closes the door. And without a second thought, Idia pulls up his phone, finds the recording file and starts to play it through his headphones, drowning out the rests of the world in preference to the sound of your voice.

'No hunger, No sleep except to dream, Mild and warm, Safe from all harm, Calm....' As you sing these lyrics in particular, Idia feels pounds of his anxiety and stress wash off of him in waves. As if your voice itself was a spell, Idia was in a trance. And he feels mild, and warm...He feels safe from all harm...and calm.

'Good riddance, To all the thieves, To all the fools that stifled me, They’ve come and gone, And passed me by, Good riddance, To all...' 'Farewell To all the earthly remains...' 'No burdens No further debts to be paid,'

'Atlas, Can rest his weary bones, The weight of the world, All falls away, In time...' And by the time your lovely song is over, he's already manually repeating the recording. It looked like there was probably an extra two or three minutes of empty sound at the end of the recording, and Idia wanted- no, needed to hear your voice right now, he didn't want to wait like 3 minutes before the song automatically looped, after all he could have listened to your whole song again in that timeframe!

It came to no surprise to him that he accidentally fell asleep listening to you sing. Again, it's been a really, really, long day, and just,, being able to listen to you like this was just what he needed to begin to relax and calm down.

What did come to him as a surprise though, was when he woke up early the next morning and your song was still playing through his headphones. And he felt good, he never knew that this is how feeling truly rested feels like. So as he's lounging on his bed, staring at his ceiling as your song continues to ring through his head like silk, and he figures that he'd listen to the rest of your song one last time, and then he'd get up and get something to eat, or perhaps he'd go take a shower or something.

So the song ends, and he's left with the empty sound at the end of the recording. He sighs and stretches out languidly, and then he starts to move to take off the headphones before he's surprised to hear a startled gasp, followed by the sound of you talking.

"Ortho! Geez, you nearly gave me a heart attack there! How long have you been there for?" "Sorry miss (Name)! I heard you singing and I wanted to come and listen!" "My singing? Oh, it's not that good, really." "I disagree! I heard your whole song, your voice is so pretty!" "Why thank you."

Idia hears you chuckle breathlessly. 'Your laugh is beautiful' he thinks.

"Actually miss (Name), do you mind if I keep your song as a recording? I'm sure that big brother would be ecstatic to hear you sing!" "I don't mind. As a matter of fact, I was thinking of him when I was singing it anyway, so it would be nice if you did show it to him. I don't know if I'd be able to sing it in front of him perfectly like that without knowing what his reaction would be.. Oh, but are you going to keep this conversation in?" "Don't worry, I'm not going to!" "Actually, do you think you can leave this in? I wanna leave a message for him, if you don't mind." "Okay, sure thing! I'll make sure that he listens to it."

He hears you walk closer to Ortho, and he's holding his breath as if he wouldn't be able to hear your message if he took even a single breath of air. But what you say, though, knocks the wind right out of him, because he realizes that he's been asleep listening to you talking to his beloved younger brother (and he's so, so happy that you care for Ortho as if he was your own brother too), and that he's been asleep listening to you say these last few words saved for the very end of the recording.

"Idia, I love you."

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

LITERALLY this was so cute to write TwT I think this might be my favorite so far.... Eurydice is my comfort character ngl and I spent like this whole morning listening to her sing (even singing along myself to get a feel for what kinds of emotions she's trying to convey) and just generally I had so, so much fun with this prompt. Thank you anon for the request, and I hope that you all enjoyed reading!

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call-sign-shark · 2 months

Text

Shark in the UK 🦈

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Hi everyone,

As you might have noticed I was pretty silent since my arrival in the UK. I must admit that I have been through a lot of stress and changes in a very short amount of time and it's only now that I'm finally getting used to this new situation. Below you'll find a detailed post of my adventures so far, so if you are not interested you can simply ignore this and just keep in mind that I'll be returning to my posting schedule and fan-fictions very soon. For those who are curious, fasten your motherfucking seat-belts.

While I'm not an organized person I become one when I have something important planned so I was so well prepared for this journey that I was convinced I was safe from any misadventures... How wrong I was. I was barely done with the security controls at the airport when I realized they literally broke my phone's screen. I don't know if they bumped it or not but they broke it. The same phone in which I had my boarding pass. It obviously happened the only time I didn't print my plane tickets as I usually do. :) Fortunately, my best friend had lent me his old iPhone minutes before "just in case". I managed to airdrop my boarding pass on the second phone and took the plane without trouble despite the flight being delayed by one hour.

Upon my arrival in UK, I took a taxi to the hotel and had a nice time alone. I brought myself to the restaurant and peacefully slept, getting psychologically ready to meet my host family, and oh boy. This is... Something.

When I heard the word "host family" I imagined it to be an actual family, and a bit like when you're an au pair. Retrospectively, it's completely stupid because it was never written but idk my mind went full "ok I'll live with a local family". What a surprise it was when I knocked at the door and was welcomed by one lonely man and the very acrid smell of cigarettes that jumped at my face! While my host dad (@rysko @red-riding-wood @kittenonpluto pimp nickname they said) was extremely nice and welcoming, the more he showed me around the more my face dropped. I wasn't going to spend months in a local family but in an old house more or less laid out like a hostel. A hostel with a strong cigarette smell almost everywhere, five other girls, one dude, and dirt. The differences between my expectations and reality were huge and, as you can imagine, the pill was difficult to swallow. I swear when he opened the door I was this close to run away lmao.

Between my accommodations and the new rhythm of the international school I'm studying in, my mind went completely foggy for a few days. I didn't know what to think or what to feel anymore. Worse, I didn't know if my money was well-spent or if I just got scammed. Now, read what follows before you call me "ungrateful" or "princess-like".

It’s not what I got that made me feel bad, but rather the stupid and nonsensical expectations I had in mind. Then, I slowly realized that it wasn't because I hadn't expected it and that it couldn't be fun. Maybe it had a lot to do with how nice the five other girls and the people at my school are, but I started // I am starting to really enjoy it. The house might be old and not "that clean" (or at least not as clean as I'm used to), but the host dad is lovely, cooks for us every day, we have fast wifi, are close to the school, we have a key and are free to come and go as much as we want without a curfew, and the bedrooms, as well as the toilets, are clean. To be honest, some students have it really worse. I mean, I'm talking about students having to sleep in a room crowded with 7 people, or having to sleep on a mattress on the ground, the host family asking them to buy and cook their own food to the extent of some even locked the kitchen's door at night to avoid the student snacking/stealing food at night. Or students who are on 1 hour of bus-trip long from the school — those conditions I find absolutely disgusting for the extremely expensive price the students have to pay for this language exchange. With everything said, I consider myself lucky despite the cigarette smell and the "clean but not really clean" house.

As I'm writing this, it's Saturday 10 am and I can finally say it: I'm happy to be here, it's a one-life experience and I'm incredibly lucky my parents offered it to me. Unfortunately, I've caught a very bad cold and I've been sick since Wednesday: I think the combination of my emotional rollercoaster, the crazy British weather, my fatigue and half of my classroom being sick have finished me off. Now I can't wait to get better to start attending to a shitton of activities, planning trips around, and going to the pub. Also, I've got my nails done! Look at my freakin' sharp claws teehee.

Congratulations if you're still there by the way, lmao! Thank you for reading my nonsense. I'll be back very soon, both for writing and commenting, just wait for my cold to get better!

Love,

Shark.

tagging some moots: @zablife @brummiereader @emotionalcadaver @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @peakyltd

#Shark attacks in the UK #Shark talks

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