#especially because it was show min's vision

[witsserviceablesubstitute]

Did anyone else clock it being Mat who clutched and cradled Rand to him during this battle rather than Min (as it was in the books) or am I going crazy with shipping goggles.

#mat cauthon #matrim cauthon #min farshaw #wot spoilers #wot show spoilers #wot book spoilers #tangling mat even more into rand's polycule threads #especially because it was show min's vision #rand al'thor

[wheelwheelwheel]

I can’t wait to see how Min’s vision of Mat stabbing Rand is actually going to play out when it happens because that’s going to set the precedent for how accurate her visions actually are.

Either her visions are 100% accurate and are going to happen exactly as she sees them (in an unknown context so the actual event may have different implications than her interpretation) OR her visions are of possible futures and if certain choices are made then they could happen differently or not at all

#iirc in the books her visions are 100% accurate #but I wonder if they’ll do that in the show #especially because of the vision of Rand with the baby in s1 #because that seemed to be the baby from Ishamael’s temptation visonscape thing #but then again who knows #min farshaw #wot on prime #wot on prime spoilers

[ugh-yoongi]

the very last thing i decide | pjm

(or, the one in which a love exists that's easy and instinctual as much as it is painful and self-destructive.)

✘ PAIRING jimin x f. reader ✘ SUMMARY you learn what it means to love with blood on your hands. ✘ GENRE hitman/assassin au; angst, smut ✘ RATING explicit. minors dni. ✘ WARNINGS they are both hitmen (hitpeople?) so there's all the content that goes along with that: violence, death, mentions of blood (a lot) and weapons, murder, but no explicit gore. everyone is morally grey at best and downright psychotic at worst (especially yoongi). reader gets stabbed. no one knows how to be a functional human being. swearing, smoking, light smut (penetrative & oral sex), miscommunication and unrequited love but not really, i drop a classic tumblr meme in a line of dialogue. ambiguous/hopeful ending!! some of the themes here are kinda heavy and i am not entirely sure how to tag them so if you have any questions pls don’t hesitate to ask! ✘ WORDCOUNT 12k ✘ LISTEN TO manchester orchestra - telepath ✘ THANK YOU i cannot remember everyone i’ve showed this to over the years. @the-boy-meets-evil for looking this over and brainstorming with me today. @hot-soop for always being a help. @effortandmore because you told me an embarrassingly long time ago this was worth finishing. and i’m pretty sure i also sent this to @jihopesjoint at some point too. i did a quick edit of this on my own, but after nearly three years i just wanted it posted and out of my wips so i'm sure i missed things. pls ignore them. ✘ AUTHOR'S NOTE fic drops two days in a row?? who am i?? i started this in may 2021 and it was supposed to be a simple pegging fic. i abandoned it bc i was convinced no one would want to read it. between today and yesterday i have written thousands of words and made it across the finish line. i hope you like it. the violence is a metaphor for love or whatever.

[37.5665° N, 126.9780° E | Seoul, SOUTH KOREA]

Jimin’s hair had been red the first time he met you.

How fitting, he thinks, considering he’s currently bleeding out on a table.

Well, there’s still a bit of fight left in him. He hasn’t lost consciousness yet, which he assumes is a good sign; he can still hear Hoseok barking out orders quite clearly. The edges of his vision are fuzzy and the pain in his abdomen is sharp and unrelenting, but he still has enough brain power left to wish he’d died instead.

Because you’d saved his life. And now he’s further indebted to you.

(Jimin never leaves a debt unpaid, but he’s not sure how to make even on something like this.)

Jungkook and Taehyung are fetching supplies faster than Hoseok can ask for them. Two pairs of frazzled, spaced-out eyes. Four sets of trembling limbs. Namjoon’s wearing burn marks into the floor, his cuticles bloody and nearly worried to the bone since he can’t keep them out of his mouth.

And then there’s you.

Sitting cross-legged in a chair as you scroll through your phone. Jimin’s blood is still drying on your hands, leaving smears as you drag your thumb back and forth across the screen, and this doesn’t seem to faze you one bit.

Behind you, Yoongi takes a seat at the piano and starts playing Toccata and Fugue in D minor, and Jimin simply cannot die like this. He can’t die on a wooden table in a room with a piano on which Min Yoongi is playing Baroque organ pieces.

“What is this, a fucking funeral?” Hoseok snaps, though there’s a desperation creeping into his tone that Jimin does not like, does not want to hear. “Cut it out, Yoongi.”

Said man staunchly ignores the doctor, transitioning flawlessly into the fugue. Jimin barely hears the tinkle of your laughter but he hears it all the same, and he wants to pretend it doesn’t calm him, bring him back down to earth when he starts drifting too far away. But you do, and it does, and all he can think about is: will you miss him if he dies? Will it take you long to wash his blood from your hands?

Hoseok’s absolutely incensed, pushed to the limits of his stress at the thought of not being able to save Jimin’s life, and Jimin appreciates this, really, but not when Hoseok pushes two gloved fingers deep into the wound in his stomach so hard all he can do is cry. “Yoongi—”

You snort. You don’t even look up from your phone.

Namjoon, for all his leadership and stoicism and poise under pressure, is just as frantic and panicked as the rest. It’s not everyday one of his people is inches from death ten feet away from him. Most people usually die in the shadows. Kim Namjoon has faced down death more times than most, yet watching the life slowly fade from Jimin’s eyes is too much even for him. “Yoongi, please—”

But the fugue keeps going, tempo change after tempo change, the two pillars of this organization spiraling completely by the time the coda starts, unfocused and sweating and praying. To gods they don’t believe in, to hope, to chance—whatever and whoever might be listening. Jimin usually loves hearing Yoongi play. It’s the only thing that humanizes him, and Jimin had spent so many restless nights shoulder to shoulder with him on that exact bench in the blue hours of the early morning, hypnotized by the way the older man’s knobby fingers moved across the keys.

This is it, he thinks.

Jimin’s going to die with Toccata and Fugue in D minor playing in the background.

He’s imagined his death so many times. Stupid not to in this line of work. Violent, quick and painless, in his sleep, drawn out and gory, a message. And in all of those scenarios, it’s either jarringly silent or there’s someone screaming. Usually him, sounding much like he is now, two fingers stuck in his gut. In all of those scenarios, Min Yoongi is never playing Bach as everything fades to black.

You sigh. “Shut the fuck up, Yoongi,” you say, your tone as blasé and inconvenienced as ever.

Shocked at your audacity, one of Yoongi’s fingers slips and hits the wrong key, something dissonant and metallic as it rings out. But the music stops all the same, the silence nearly giving Jimin whiplash. Now he can hear the clinkof Hoseok’s tools, the squelching of his wound, Jungkook’s desperate pleading for him to just be alright, please God, just hang on. He wants the music back. He doesn’t want Jungkook’s crying to be the last thing he hears. Doesn’t want the sound of his own organs imprinted into his memory.

“What’d you say?” Yoongi asks, because no one talks to him that way. They wouldn’t dare. Most people try not to talk to him at all.

But you do.

And, inexplicably, Yoongi listens.

You roll your eyes. “You go deaf in your old age? I said shut the fuck up. Hoseok’s two knuckles deep in Jimin’s fucking stomach and you’re over there having your little Amadeus moment.”

He bristles. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Yoongi repeats, and Jimin can’t see him, but he knows his eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl, fists clenched at his side.

“Oh, princess,” you coo, and Yoongi’s fury is palpable, permeates every inch of this place, overrides all the fear and anguish. “I’m talking to you, baby. I know Jiminie’s busy trying not to die and that’s stressful for all of us, but please do try to keep up.”

Jimin hears the flick of Yoongi’s switchblade. Then he hears him say, “Please let me fucking kill her,” in that lazy Daegu drawl of his, like forming full words are beneath him. Not worth the effort when they’re directed at you.

Still seated, you uncross your legs and, through blurred vision, Jimin watches you grab Yoongi by his belt loops to tug him closer, grab the wrist that holds his knife and press it to your own throat. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Yoongi. Be a good boy and make it hurt.”

Jungkook’s near hysterics at Jimin’s side. “What the fuck is wrong with you two? He’s dying!”

Jimin tries to say I’m not, Kookie, I’m okay but the pressure on his abdomen is too intense. He can barely breathe, and Hoseok’s still digging around, still looking for that stupid fucking bullet, had to do something and do it quick so there’d been very little anesthetic and finesse, and he’s silently screaming for someone to just comfort Jungkook, tell him everything’s going to be okay, but instead—

“Serves him right for being a fucking idiot,” you say, words muffled by the knife still pressed to your throat. “What a painful, permanentlesson in not forgetting your fucking vest.”

“Stop it!” Jungkook sobs, fingers ghosting along Jimin’s matted fringe.

Yoongi’s still scowling. “Just say the word, Joon-ah. I’ll make it quick.”

You actually laugh at that. The kind of full-belly laugh Jimin would kill to be able to produce. “You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Someone snarls. Probably Yoongi. “You’d look so good gutted on the floor like a fish,” he replies, and if Jimin knows him at all, he knows he’s got that dreamy, faraway look in his eyes. The one he always gets when he’s about to kill—the one that makes him so unhinged and dangerous. “Left there to bleed out and die all alone like the trash you are.”

No one’s survived that look before, but you just grin, as if being on the receiving end of it is nothing more than another simple inconvenience. “Do it, then,” you prompt. “You’re so big and bad, yet here you are, waiting for Namjoon’s permission like some kind of pathetic fucking dog.”

“I’m no one’s dog.”

Your eyes slowly flick over to Namjoon. “No?” you ask, smile widening as Jimin watches you drag your heeled foot up the inside of Yoongi’s calf, his thigh, stiletto coming to rest in the center of his sternum. “That’s a shame, princess. That pretty neck of yours was just made for a collar.”

There’s no doubt in Jimin’s mind now that he actually died back in that penthouse and is now residing in whatever level of hell is watching you give his associate a semi despite him being a millisecond away from murdering you.

Yoongi would do it, too. No hesitation. You’ve been on his shit list for as long as Jimin can remember, and you’ve been daring him to put his money where his mouth is and just kill you already for just as long.

Taehyung groans. “Can you two just fuck already so the rest of us can be spared of this?”

You click your tongue, tone melting like butter. You’re fond of Taehyung, soft on him. “No can do, angel. Yoongi here knows I only have eyes for our Jiminie, and god does that hurt his little feelings.”

Your wicked smile gives away nothing—whether you’re telling a bold truth or just unnecessarily needling Yoongi further—but Jimin’s caught off guard and chokes on your words nonetheless.

Hoseok’s forceps still digging around in his stomach, there’s a quiet hurrah of triumph as he finally locates the bullet. Jimin feels nothing as he retrieves it and plucks it out, a reverberated clank! as he drops it into a kidney dish, your words the anesthetic he’s needed as they play on a loop in his head.

When he finally blacks out, either from the pain or the adrenaline or both, it’s your face that greets him. He never gets the chance to tell you why he forgot his vest.

[64.1466° N, 21.9426° W | Reykjavík, ICELAND]

Jimin’s hair is blue when it happens the first time.

It’s November. Namjoon has sent the two of you to Reykjavik and it’s dark all the time, the midnight hue of his hair blending into the impenetrable nighttime that surrounds you. Jimin works best like this—out of sight, part of the shadows. He’s light on his feet, lithe in ways no one else is, not even you, and he’s impossible to anticipate under the cover of darkness.

That’s why Jimin always takes care of the appetizers.

It’s your job to clean up the main course.

The two of you are two halves of the same lethal coin, working together flawlessly after years of carefully honed practice. Jimin slams an unsuspecting man’s head into a wall and you’re right behind him to put a bullet in it.

It’s just how it goes.

And he trusts you. He has to, otherwise he would’ve gotten taken out years ago. You’re not always in his line of sight, but he always feels you, senses your movements before you’re even on your feet. The times it’s gone wrong—and it’s gone wrong so many fucking times, despite how cautious and skilled the two of you are—you’re always right there to catch him before he even hits the ground. Just like a ghost, as if your only purpose in life is keeping Jimin safe and alive.

(It isn’t, but it sure feels that way.)

Tonight it’s another hit carried out in an overpriced penthouse overlooking the northern shore. You’re in and out, don’t waste a second more than you need to. Jimin doesn’t spare a glance at the carnage left behind. Nothing he hasn’t seen a hundred times before. All blood bleeds the same, but he still wonders, foolishly, if his looks different to you. If it feels wrong when it stains your hands and seeps into your clothes.

Jimin has never been covered in your blood before, but he likes to think it would.

The two of you don’t speak until you’re in the quiet safety of yet another hotel room, chain lock thrown across the door, deadbolt secured. A small arsenal of weapons is retrieved from ankles and waistbands and cleaned and packed away meticulously. Jimin’s the one who makes the call to Namjoon, tells him in code that the job’s done. You’ve barely broken a sweat, but under the fluorescent light of the bathroom, Jimin can see a small smattering of blood just along your temple when he closes the distance between you.

Someone else’s, of course.

Anyone who made you bleed your own blood wouldn’t be a quick, clean kill. Jimin would make sure of that.

There’s less to be done about the half-inch scar in the hollow of your throat—a pearlescent reminder of the twin scar he has just below his navel; a callback to the day your devilish mouth said the words Jimin can’t stop thinking about.

“No can do, angel. Yoongi here knows I only have eyes for our Jiminie.”

Maybe it’s stupidity. Maybe it’s the feral, years-long build up that’s been simmering between the two of you—low enough to keep warm, contained enough to never evolve into a rapid boil. Maybe Jimin’s just finally desperate enough to go seeking out answers to questions he’s far too scared to put a voice to.

(Really, Jimin knows it’s adrenaline. Nothing more than chemicals. The two of you high on it, heads floating above the clouds. Powerless; or, at the very least, indifferent to stop the very clear path that’s unfolding on the ground below.)

But, god, he needs to know.

Needs answers.

Needs to know if there’s even a chance you feel it, too: the magnetic ebb and flow the two of you have been dancing around for years. If you see how fondly he looks at you. If you have any idea how easy it is for him to get lost in you. If you know he’d let someone put a bullet between his eyes before he placed his life in the hands of anyone else.

Jimin knows he loves you. He’s known it for a long time, just like he knows all those other things that are second nature to him. Loving you is easy and instinctual as much as it is painful and self-destructive.

At least that’s what he’d thought. Until your devilish mouth said those devilish words and sent him into a tailspin he’s yet to recover from.

You have to feel it. God, can’t you? The way the air crackles between you. The way his skin ignites with a simple look from you. The trembling of his fingers at his sides, desperate to just reach out and touch you—fingers that have been bathed in blood, that have taken life. Fingers that now just want to graze softly across your cheekbones, catch on your bottom lip. Fingers that want to hand you the world on a silver platter. Jimin would do anything for you, give you whatever you wanted. You wouldn’t even have to ask.

Can’t you feel that?

He needs to know.

Jimin is composed, elegant. He kills with grace and still maintains as much of his softness as he can. Isn’t ruled by emotion the way Yoongi and Jungkook are. But now, as he teeters on the edge of the unknown, all he wants to do is jump. Wants to buck all his training, all his resolve and forethought, and jump.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, voice thick. Fingers curl into the expensive silk of his shirt just so they have something to do—something to keep them from reaching out and touching you. “Back in Seoul.”

You’re the smartest person Jimin knows. When you ask, “Did I mean what, Chim?” he knows you’re fucking with him. Dragging this out. You know exactly what he’s asking and he knows you’ll never give anything away so easily.

“What you said to Taehyung,” he answers.

You tsk, eyebrows raising in intrigue. As much as Jimin trusts you, as well as you know him, know all those dirty, dirty secrets he’d never tell anyone else, he’s never been so bold with you. “That those long fingers of his would look good wrapped around my throat? Yeah, I meant that.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches at your taunt. “Don’t play games with me.”

A smirk graces your lips. “Trust me, sweetheart,” you say, voice sickly-sweet as the affection starts popping at the last seams holding him together, “if I wanted to play with you, there’s nothing you could do to stop it.”

With Jimin pressed into the wall behind you, you turn to meet his eye in the mirror. Another smile, teeth bared as you run your tongue across your lips, and this one is his undoing. Makes his cock twitch in his dress pants. Makes him bold. “Do you want to, then?” He takes a step forward—close enough to smell the gunpowder stuck to your clothes, your hair. Close enough for the sulfur and metal to sting his nostrils each time he breathes you in. “Do you want to play with me?”

You love Jimin. Maybe it’s a trauma bond or the implicit, unwavering trust the two of you have in one another, but you know you love him limitlessly. But you also know you can’t love him the way he loves you, the way he deserves to be loved by someone, which is why your mask slips as you say, “I can’t give you what you want, Jimin.”

You try to make him understand that. Really, you do—because Jimin is the smartest person you know, and you know he’s thought about every possible consequence down to the most minute detail and has decided this is worth it anyway. You want to believe in something the way Jimin believes in you, even though he’s wrong. You want something worth throwing all of this away for.

Maybe it’s Jimin, maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s just been so fucking long since someone has looked at you with any gentleness in their eyes at all that when Jimin meets your gaze and says, “I don’t want anything more than you’re willing to give,” you take his hand and jump, too.

And there’s nothing gentle about the first time.

It’s all raw, urgent need, Jimin trying desperately to convince himself it’s more than it is while you convince yourself it’s less.

It’s the two of you finally giving up and giving in, letting yourselves be pulled taut by that invisible string tying you together.

It’s Jimin’s sharp intake of breath when you fully step out of your clothes, the sight rendering him immobile. Whatever plans he’d had before seeing the curves of your body, all the scars from years of working by his side, the mottled yellow-greens and purples from the bruises lining your skin—he has no plans now. Can barely think. Wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from you with a gun to his head.

It’s the final bricks of the wall he’d built around himself—around his heart, around all those words and feelings he’d never put a voice to—crumbling into ash at his feet. Now he knows he can’t go back. Can’t return to a reality where this isn’t his truth. Where there’s no you and him, him and you. Where it’s just a physical exchange, a give-and-take, tit for tat.

And god, he knows he shouldn’t think like this; knows he’s keeping the truth buried somewhere deep behind lock and key.

…But now that he knows how it feels to move inside you, what else is he supposed to do?

You’re everywhere. Clenched around him. Your taste on his tongue. The feel of you on the pads of his fingers. The smell of you making a mockery of all logical thought. No—no, he can’t do a goddamn thing to stop the avalanche now it’s started.

“Fuck,” he whines, fingers digging into your hips. The soft skin he finds purchase in such a contrast from your hardened exterior, but Jimin knows. He knows you, knows the person behind the mask, sees straight through you each time it slips.

What stared back at him had always been just out of reach.

Taunting him.

Screaming come and get me, come make me yours, come and fucking take what you want.

Until now.

Now it’s tangible. Now it’s breathy, fractured moans that echo off tile walls. Now it’s the sound of his name thatleaves your lips like a prayer. Now it’s the sheen of sweat that covers both of you. Now it’s nails scraping down his back, tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

(And Jimin won’t tell you this, but those red welts are proof that this is real, this happened, and later on when he’s alone, when his mind is working overtime, he’ll look at them and he’ll smile. Because they’re real. Because this happened.)

Now, it’s the way blue becomes his favorite color. Because he can see his reflection in the mirror as he unravels and comes to his own demise as he spills inside of you; can see the fluorescent lights reflecting off the hue of his hair.

Jimin’s hair is blue when he realizes he’s in love with you.

[34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | Buenos Aires, ARGENTINA]

Jimin is blond when Namjoon sends you to South America.

The details had been scarce: a diplomatic advisor with a rap sheet of human rights violations that have been continuously swept under the rug and his equally-corrupt lawyer. A candid photograph paperclipped to another manila folder, Namjoon a fan of all those old cliches. Likes being a little cheeky that way when he can get away with it, because god knows he can’t get away with much, doesn’t have much of a sense of humor.

It’s a simple job. You and Jimin will have it dealt with in a matter of hours. Less if you’re lucky and the universe is agreeable. But the humidity sticks to your skin, has sweat seeping into your clothes and rolling down your temples, and if there’s one thing you can’t stand it’s the heat. Makes it hard to think. And Namjoon—Namjoon, who makes sure all of his agents want for nothing—is a cheap bastard. Rarely approves nice lodging, says it’s too risky despite your arguments to the contrary, that people don’t care what you do when you have money, so you’re stuck in some shithole motel room with an aircon unit that keeps blowing out stale, warm air.

And maybe you shouldn’t, maybe you should be more cognizant of Jimin and all his feelings, but it’s fucking hot, so you peel your shirt over your head and undo the button of your pants. Sit on the edge of the bed and try to think about anything other than the temperature, how it’s starting to prick uncomfortably at your skin.

Jimin clears his throat, keeps his eyes glued to the disgusting carpet. “Got a text from Seokjin-ssi,” he says, words strained. “Looks like they’ll be solo jobs.”

You groan. Leave it to Seokjin to change the plan at the last minute. “Tell Kim Seokjin he’s a useless piece of shit.”

“Done. Anything else?”

“Tell Kim Namjoon if he ever sends us to South America in the summer again I’ll kill him myself.”

Jimin has a laugh like an anodyne. A laugh that takes all those broken, bleeding parts of you and soothes over them like a balm. “Seokjin-ssi says he’s not passing along that particular message.”

“Tell him he’s a bitch, then.”

“He’ll kill me if I say that.”

“He hasn’t done field work in years and he’s probably too vitamin D deficient to leave the basement. He couldn’t even kill a fucking rat.”

There’s another laugh. More forced, less tinkling. You recognize it right away, the sound of anxiety. Solo jobs aren’t common for the two of you. For Yoongi and Taehyung, sure, but not you and Jimin. You’re a team for a reason, and though you’re more than capable of getting this done and out of the way, it doesn’t feel right. Settles in your gut like something rotten, knowing you’ll be without Jimin.

And you know he’s thinking it, too. How he turns the burner over and over in his hands, as if there’s some combination of words he can send back to Seoul to get Seokjin and Namjoon to reconsider. Plans don’t change often; not like this, anyway. These have been declared solos for a reason, and that’s a thought you can’t linger on too long.

“Are they leaving it up to us?” Jimin nods, still not meeting your eye. “Do you have a preference?”

He shrugs, tossing the phone on the small table in the corner. Nothing else to be done. “Not really. What do you think?”

“Nah, don’t care, either. Just toss me one.”

Santiago Aguirre… 47 years old… Resides in a high-rise luxury apartment in Retiro…

Your eyes skim the file, study the black and white photograph of the lawyer. Read over the list of all his high-profile, degenerate clients and all their high-profile crimes. You read about the previous attempts on his life, the seemingly never-ending list of people who want him dead. Your eyes go back to his photograph, frowning at the smug look on his face. What stares back at you is a man who thinks he’s invincible, who thinks a penthouse apartment on the top floor and a security team in the lobby means he’s impervious to harm. A man who has made money off people just like him: dirty, corrupt, hands stained red.

“Okay?” Jimin asks, looking up from his own file.

He’s so striking. So safe. And you know what he’s done, giving you the hit he thinks is easier, willing to risk himself on a solo mission to ensure you make it out. There’s no guarantees in this line of work, in life in general, but Jimin’s brand of selfless love is certainly one.

So you just nod, knowing someone slimy like this can quickly go sideways, and decide you can do the same.

“I’m gonna get ready,” you say. “The plan is the same as all the other solo jobs. Get in, get it done, get out as quickly as possible. Lay low. Don’t come straight back here.”

Jimin rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Anything else?”

You exhale. Try to quiet the nerves roiling in your stomach. Barely resist the urge to press a lingering kiss to Jimin’s forehead before you swallow hard and say, “Yeah. Stay alive.”

It comes out more like a plea.

—

You’re good at your job.

Rarely feel much guilt over it, either, which—well, you’re not sure what that means. That something is permanently broken in your psyche, probably. Being able to take life so easily and without remorse. It’s not natural.

Kim Namjoon is a man who plays God, is the one who decides who gets to live and who has to die. His word is the only law you adhere to. And that’s… that’s something. Makes it less burdensome, takes some weight off, because Kim Namjoon wouldn’t accept a morally-ambiguous job. He wouldn’t ask you to put your life on the line for some petty bullshit.

This is how you’ve lived for the last four years. Four years of blindly following Namjoon’s word, of being a good little soldier and doing whatever is asked of you. Four years of being responsible for not only your own life, but Jimin’s as well, just as he is for yours. Four years that have served you well, all things considered.

Until now.

Something about this job hits you hard. Doesn’t settle quite as quickly as the ones that have come before. For the first time, you’d looked down at the lifeless body at your feet and couldn’t stop the trembling, could barely quell the nausea. Thought what the fuck am I doing, what kind of life is this for the first time. Thought back to that day four years ago when Kim Namjoon saved your life and offered you a job and wondered, for the first time, what would’ve happened if you’d said no.

Now, as you suck on a cigarette, legs dangling off the roof of a building looking not far from collapse, a new thought:

Would Namjoon let you go if you asked?

He’s taken care of you. For four years you’ve wanted for nothing. Have socked away more money than you’ll ever be able to spend, even if you live to a thousand. You could go anywhere, become anyone, and no one would suspect a thing. There’d just be you and a million lifetimes’ worth of transgressions, alone under the weight of all that burden; alone, except for all the ghosts that come to greet you every time you close your eyes.

Doesn’t matter. Namjoon might be willing to let you go, give you the chance to salvage something from this life in the name of normalcy, but Yoongi would gladly put a bullet in your head before he let you disappear with all his secrets.

Doesn’t matter.

You stub out the cigarette and put the butt in your pocket. Make your way down to the street. Stay under the shadows—just visible enough to redirect any suspicion shot your way. You pretend to take a call, flawless Argentinian Spanish falling from your lips as you tell the imaginary person on the other end all about your fucked up day at work. How your manager never gets off your ass, doesn’t trust you, thinks you’re too fucking stupid to run a simple executable.

No one spares you a second glance.

Not here, on this nondescript street in a nondescript Argentinian neighborhood, and not when you stumble into the tiny lobby of your shithole motel. The poor kid behind the desk doesn’t even glance up, just mutters a good evening, miss under his breath that you return in a voice far too high-pitched to be your own.

Better to be seen and be unremarkable than draw attention to yourself trying to stay invisible, you figure.

The cameras in the stairwell are broken so you take the steps two at a time. Pull the room key from its place inside your boot, happy to no longer have it digging into your skin. Pause just long enough to make sure you don’t hear anything on the other side of the door before you’re unlocking it with your free hand wrapped around the trigger of your gun.

It’s empty.

Of course it is.

Jimin stashed the burner in a place no one but you would think to look. You text one simple word to Seokjin—Hey!—and you get two in return: Who’s this?

You know who it is, you fucking dickhead.

It takes a few seconds, but the reply is a simple—

Sorry.

Then you toss aside the phone and float in the darkness of the room. There’s nothing to do but wait, because you don’t dare to do anything alone. There’s sweat and blood and fuck knows what else stuck to your skin, your hair, but you can’t risk taking a shower. Can’t risk the water dampening your senses. Can’t risk being cornered in a moldy bathroom, only one way out. Can’t risk doing anything alone. Can’t take a fucking shower.

It’s this thought, more than anything else, that has your body flushing with rage.

What kind of life is this?

Namjoon had never mentioned repaying your debt. He’d never insinuated you owed him anything at all for saving your life, but you know something like that never comes for free. Namjoon doesn’t do anything just because. Has no goodness in his heart to do anything in the name of it. Watching Jimin nearly die in front of him had been the exception to his usual nature; a rare slip-up by an otherwise detached, uncaring man.

Still, whatever you owe him has surely been repaid by now. Tenfold, if the bloodstains along your collar are anything to go by.

It’s time for Namjoon to let you go.

—

Something is wrong.

Two hours have ticked by and there’s no word from Jimin. No word from Namjoon or Seokjin, either, which is the only reason you’re still in this nauseating motel room and not out on the streets searching for him. Solo jobs don’t go like this. The two of you are always in and out, tragically efficient. Back to where you started and then back on a plane, nothing left behind except a singular bullet hole and another fragmented piece of your conscience.

You’ve had a lot of jobs go wrong, but never two hours.

You’re about three minutes from coming out of your skin. Sick to your stomach with worry, anxiety weighing you down like an anchor. You wouldn’t be able to go out searching for Jimin like this even if you could, and there’s no point in dwelling on that, examining it further. All you can do is wait.

It’s another hour before you hear the click of the lock. You’re nearly on your knees in relief, but you stay rooted to the flimsy mattress. Try not to think about how you’ll have to sleep on it, even though you’ll be up half the night with residual worry. All those lingering ghosts.

Jimin doesn’t say anything, so neither do you.

[55.6761° N, 12.5683° E | Copenhagen, DENMARK]

Jimin’s hair is orange when you go to Copenhagen.

Not for a job, just to breathe. You wanted to see the city at Christmastime; Jimin’s never been.

You crack a joke. Point out buildings of similar color, have him stand in front of one as you take a picture. Everyone smiles when they pass the two of you on the street, Jimin’s eyes fond even though he rolls them as you pose him how you want. Still stands against an apricot-colored wall and flashes a smile and a peace sign, cheeks pink from the cold. Does a good job of pretending the two of you aren’t here just for fun, that this is something more.

It’s not.

The two of you fucked in a hotel room in Reykjavik and haven’t spoken a word of it since.

You nearly lost your mind over him in Buenos Aires and haven’t spoken a word of that, either.

Instead, his hand finds yours as the two of you walk around Tivoli Gardens. You marvel at the lights and Jimin marvels at you. You share mulled wine and spiced doughnuts. Jimin tries to drag you on the swings but you plant your feet and refuse, laughing through your refusals. As dangerous as your lives are, motion sickness might be the most. He gets his revenge and poses you in front of a giant nutcracker, then again in front of one of the endless Christmas trees.

Jimin pays for the two of you to decorate honey cakes. You’re surrounded by families with shrieking children and palpable adoration, and it’s all you can do not to wonder if anyone you’ve taken out had ever had something like this. Something that makes your soul warm; something that still lingers in your bones years later.

The two of you take a selfie when it starts to snow. It stings when you have no one to send it to, so it just lives in your phone. Maybe it’s enough.

On another day, Jimin holds your hand through Torvehallerne. This time you marvel at him while he marvels at all the food, eyes wide each time he turns to ask if he should buy something. You always say yes and he always shares, and it’s all you can do not to think about why you don’t have to budget yourselves. Why you’re able to walk through the market and buy whatever you want; how you could buy every item for sale and it wouldn’t make a dent.

(You pick up small trinkets for Taehyung and Jungkook. Not because you want to, but because it feels nicer than remembering that you have no one to buy gifts for. Not really. Not anymore.)

Jimin wants to ice skate, so you do. He holds your hand then, too. More out of necessity than anything else, and he has none of his usual grace. Someone hands you a free cup of hot chocolate, just because. Jimin pouts and then it’s his hot chocolate. It’s all you can do not to kiss away the whipped cream on the corner of his mouth.

Back in your lavish hotel, after countless days have blurred together and Jimin’s fresh from a shower, skin flushed, you finally ask yourself if it’s worth putting up such a fight. If it’s really all that bad to care for Jimin and be cared for in return. If it’s all that bad to be someone else, just for a little while: someone with a normal life who makes a normal living and has a normal capability to love. Someone who isn’t damaged beyond repair.

That will never be you. Not fully, and certainly not in this lifetime, but maybe it could be, a little.

“Jimin,” you say, because you need to try. Jimin loves you in ways you’ll never understand, and you want to be better for him. “We should talk.”

Your voice is small and hesitant, and Jimin hates it. Sees trouble where there’s only vulnerability, so he misreads. Shakes his head. Takes a risk and stands between your legs at the edge of the bed—yours, because there’s two—as he tilts your head back, thumbs pressing into the contours of your cheeks. The scar still sits in the hollow of your throat, and that version of you feels so far away. That life feels so far away.

There’s no violence here. There’s no blood, no fugues. There’s just you and Jimin, whose voice is small like yours when he shakes his head and says, “You should kiss me instead.”

The second time is nothing like the first.

Jimin moves delicately. Feels like silk lace, tastes like spun sugar. Moves both his mouth and his body fluidly, no hesitation, yet he still takes his time. Still pauses to look at you with endless devotion; with awed reverence. Makes a map of your body and marks all his favorite places with his lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he says. Speaks the words against the skin just beneath your ear. “Anything. I’ll give you whatever you want, just have to ask.”

What you want isn’t tangible, isn’t possible, so you stay quiet. Thread your fingers through Jimin’s hair, gasp when he mouths along the column of your throat. Jimin reserves all his softness for you. Bathes you in it. Would kill anyone to keep it that way.

So you say, “Want your mouth,” and let slip a quiet moan when he gives you what you’ve asked for. When he situates himself between your thighs and sucks and licks until you’re writhing, making a mess, grasping fruitlessly at the sheets, his hair, his shoulders, only calming when his hands find yours and your fingers interlock.

Jimin mouths at you until you’re trembling. Until you’re needy and desperate, hips moving on their own, fucking yourself against his face. Until nothing exists except the heat in your belly, the stars behind your eyelids, the heady, fucked-out sound of Jimin’s voice as he talks you through it, murmurs praise against your cunt.

Jimin mouths at you until you forget.

This isn’t your life. This is not something you can have.

But, in the grand scheme of things, what does it matter? You’ve made peace with death, and there’s only one of two ways it’s going to come for you in the end: by Namjoon’s hand or someone else’s. So what does it matter?

This time, Jimin fucks you slow. Kisses you with your taste still in his mouth. Thumbs over a hardened nipple just to see what earns him a reaction, and what you truly want is more time—something else that’s impossible.

Jimin’s hair is orange when you think you might be in love with him.

[ 48.8566° N, 2.3522° E | Paris, FRANCE ]

Jimin’s hair is pink when—

“Sit,” he says, gesturing to the toilet.

Soaks a washcloth in warm water. Wrings it out. Stands in front of you, and there’s water dripping onto the floor and Jimin doesn’t care, doesn’t seem to see anything in this moment except for you, your hands covered in someone else’s blood, and he reaches out, gently grabs your wrist. Palm up. Someone else’s blood. Everything smells like copper and iron. Looks too surreal beneath the fluorescent lights of this hotel bathroom for your mind to make sense of it.

There is care in the way Jimin cleans your hands. There is tenderness in the way he both refuses to see what you really are and the way he’s the only one to ever see you so entirely, when you look down at the blood he’s washing away and all you can see is stigmata. When all you see is sin.

“I know you don’t love me,” he says, and there is a conviction in his words that stuns you into silence. “Not the way I love you, anyway.”

That tenderness is still there as he says this. As he presses the wet fabric into the meat of your palm, wipes the stains away, and the warmth is as calming as it is undeserved. It feels like something forbidden. It feels like salvation and condemnation all at once, like whatever sick depravity permeates you is contagious, will take over Jimin, too, just from touching you.

Jimin is close enough to reach out and touch. Close enough to see the violence that he exists in alongside you: the rips in his clothes, the scars that decorate his skin. Close enough to know he smells sickly-sweet, just like death. Your hand shakes as it reaches for him and never follows through. Doesn’t want to contaminate him.

“I do,” you finally say. Whatever is in your voice is not conviction. “I can’t.” You suck in a breath, try to steady your breathing. This is where it all comes crashing down, you think, because in all the years you’ve done Namjoon’s bidding, you’ve never cried. You can take life so freely and without thought, but you cannot love Jimin. “Someone like me isn’t capable of it.”

Jimin pauses, the washcloth stuck in the space between your ring and middle fingers. “And who is someone like you?”

Water is still dripping to the floor. Serosanguineous: blood tainting something untouched. Not something one thing or another but both, watery-pink. Looks like Jimin’s hair. “I’ve killed a lot of people,” you answer. “More than I can count. More than I can name. More than the ones that come to haunt me at night.” Your free hand moves to your chest, covers your heart. “There’s nothing here, Jimin. I’m not sure there ever was.”

The washcloth drops to the floor, and all that blood belonging to a man whose name you never bothered to learn before you put a bullet between his eyes finds a new place to rest. “I think,” he begins, clasping your unclean hand in his own, voice dropping to a whisper, “you forget, sometimes.” You gasp as he places your palm to his cheek, drags it across his face, smears a stranger’s blood across his skin. “That we’re the same.”

Jimin is always overwhelming, but the love he has for you is even more so. It consumes you entirely, embeds itself beneath your skin, makes a home, would tear you apart, body and soul, to return to him.

[ 47.4979° N, 19.0402° E | Budapest, HUNGARY ]

Jimin’s hair is lavender when it all goes to shit.

“You’re being followed.”

Seokjin’s voice is garbled through the earpiece, tinny and metallic, and you roll your eyes. Some things don’t need to be said, because you’ve known someone was following you for the last three blocks. Average height, black peacoat, close-cropped haircut. Not the kind of person that’d stand out here, and that’s exactly why you’d sent Jimin in the other direction.

“No shit,” you respond in Hungarian, because you already know the man following you doesn’t speak or understand it. “Give me somewhere to go.”

It takes Seokjin a few moments to run the translation. “There’s a side street up on your right,” he answers. “It’s tight, but there’s an alleyway at the end. You can buy some time if you’re quick.”

“Where’s Jimin?”

You pass a vendor selling lángos and duck into the street behind the stall. Just as Seokjin had said, there’s a small alleyway up on the left, and your footfall is near-silent as you break into a sprint to reach it. “Safe,” is all Seokjin says.

You take a second to steady your breathing, knowing you’re good on time—the man following you was close enough to know where you’d turned, but, if you’re lucky, not much after that. That plays on a loop: if you’re lucky, if you’re lucky, if you’re lucky. What is luck, what does it look like, in a life left entirely to chance? In a life with no guarantees?

You tuck yourself away, focus on Seokjin’s metallic breaths. Think about his basement in Seoul, why he’s in it. Ask, “What happened in Addis Ababa?” because it feels important to know.

There’s not much you know about Seokjin’s life. Whatever happened in Ethiopia had been before your time, reduced to hushed whispers and gossip fodder after your arrival. No one spoke of it, Seokjin especially, but every now and then something would slip in the same way weeds grow in sidewalk cracks.

A job gone wrong. A bombing at the consulate with Seokjin inside.

His reply is simple, words spoken carefully: “I loved someone once, too.”

He can’t see it, but you nod nonetheless; an answer that doesn’t require a response, because you know. It’s enough to fill in the rest. What Seokjin’s trauma looks like. Why he doesn’t do field work anymore. Why he prefers the solitude of the basement, rarely a sound beyond the electric thrum of the server racks.

Who had gone in to retrieve him, and why Yoongi has the scar over his eye.

“You loved someone,” you conclude, “and he would’ve been willing to die for you.”

“Yes,” Seokjin says, and it’s like the word’s been punched out of him. Sounds like something repressed, something left to rot in the darkest corner of the world.

Love, to Seokjin, looks and sounds the same as death.

“I think most people spend their entire lives searching for a love like that,” he continues, and if you could see him you think he might look dazed, off-kilter. You think he might be an avatar. Seokjin is prying his ribcage apart, unwrapping the barbed wire from his heart, saying I once was in love and this is all I know of it. “But, to me, in this life, it’s a prison. Once someone is willing to die for you, how do you keep them alive? How do you—I kissed that skin. I worshiped it. I pressed my lips to it with whatever softness was left in me. How do you look at that same skin and know you’re the reason it’s mangled?” He exhales, all tremor. “You can’t. You can’t.”

You know this all too well. You know what it feels like to look at Jimin and know, intrinsically and subconsciously, that you wouldn’t even hesitate. You’d take and give life to keep him alive and safe. You know that when you exit this world at someone else’s hand his face is the last thing you want to see.

You know it’s a liability.

You know it’s a target painted on your back. Between your eyes.

You know there’s nothing left to say, that this particular conversation has run its course. The two of you sit in an amicable silence, and you hope Seokjin can hear the life that surrounds you, however mundane. Hope he can hear the lángos vendor trying to hawk his goods; hope he can hear a city 8,000 kilometers away; hope he can hear these regular, everyday people going about their lives and remember there’s hope beyond his four walls.

I think you’d like it here, you think, but you don’t dare to say it aloud.

Time passes in a meaningless blur. Could be minutes, could be hours. No one’s come to kill you, so you reckon you’ve long since been in the clear. And maybe it speaks to Seokjin’s idea that love is a prison, because you know something’s happened to Jimin long before Seokjin speaks it into existence.

You’re up and out of the alleyway before you’re told to move. Have no idea where you’re going, but you’re racing through the streets of Budapest with a panic you haven’t ever felt in your life. Feels like quicksand; feels like molasses; feels like you have to wade through all the blood you’ve spilled, now congealed, to get to him.

“Where am I going?” you demand. Your lungs are on fire. In the split-second of silence it becomes a desperate scream. “Seokjin, tell me where the fuck I’m going!”

“The—fuck, the wa-warehouse up on your right.” You can’t think about why he’s crying. “I don’t—I don’t know wha-what’s there, you need to be careful. Please, you have to—”

Twenty seconds and you’ll be there, you’ll be with Jimin, you just need to keep running. You need to keep your head on straight. Remember your training. Remember you’ve built a life in a viper pit.

A man in a uniform is unloading a shipment around the back of the building. Faces away from you, bent at the waist. Takes very little effort to smash his head into the stone exterior and knock him unconscious, pocket his badge. You can’t get stupid now. Tell Seokjin to make sure all the cameras are cut, ask what floor when you shut yourself inside the freight elevator, unwilling to take the stairs and run into anyone who might be waiting. All the way to the top, he says, so all the way to the top you go.

—

Over the course of your life, you’ve made peace with death. Have stared it in the eye more times than you can count. Have dealt it out, evaded it, shook its hand.

You are wholly unprepared for the sight that greets you.

Red. Everything is red—the walls, the floor, what used to be a beautiful parquet pattern in the wood. In the center of the room: two bodies, maybe three. Not much that’d be able to identify them beyond a pile of teeth, no saying whose is whose. Slaughterhouse scraps.

And this is not—Jimin doesn’t work this way. Isn’t his MO. Jimin’s kills are elegant and neat, topped with a bow. What you see before you is ultraviolence. It is unhinged, it is fury, it is a complete loss of control. It’s what love looks like to Jimin, because he sits at the very edge of a rotted chair, legs crossed. Face streaked with blood, clothes covered in it.

“Jimin,” you say, because what else is there?

He tilts his head to the side, smirks a little, looks at you beneath his lashes. Eyes that used to find you across a room and calm you. Eyes that have locked onto you in the throes of pleasure. Eyes you’ve seen yourself reflected in, bathed in love and adoration.

Eyes that now contain nothing.

“Jimin, what the fuck happened?”

He removes his gloves with his teeth and doesn’t flinch away from the taste of iron. “They said they hurt you,” he states simply, “so I did what needed to be done.”

“What—” Nausea claws at your throat; for the first time, it’s all too much. This isn’t Jimin. This isn’t your Jimin, who smiled as you posed him against apricot walls in Copenhagen, who took a bullet to the stomach to protect you and never, ever told you. This is not the Jimin who wasted the last of his goodwill on loving you. “What did you do?” you whisper.

He rises to full height and it makes you flinch. You are scared of Jimin for the first time in your life: scared of who he is in this moment, what he’s capable of. And he sees it, lets that brand of anguish overtake him. Reaches for you before he decides against it and lets his hand drop to his side. Says, “I would never hurt you,” as if the words could brand themselves into your skin so you’d never forget.

“No, you’d just—” You squeeze your eyes shut. Don’t think about how one of the men nearly embedded into the floor was the one trailing you earlier.

Instead, you think about Seokjin: Once someone is willing to die for you, how do you keep them alive? You think about: How do you look at that same skin and know you’re the reason it’s mangled? You think about: In this life, it’s a prison.

You drop to your knees. Let the blood seep through your clothes and into your skin, undeserving of shying away from it.

Namjoon should’ve let you go.

You think about the men in front of you. Who they were, who they loved. The grief all of this is going to leave behind, and it becomes impossible to breathe. You grasp at your throat, think about all the times you’ve been strangled and who’d been there to cut the rope. There is no limit to Jimin’s devotion, and you understand now, how it drove Yoongi to madness. How he loved someone so much he would’ve retrieved their corpse from a building and how that same person can no longer bear to look at the damage they’d caused.

“This isn’t love, Jimin,” you choke out.

He stands in front of you. Stigmata. You’re worshiping at the altar of some kind of devil. At least his hands are clean when he places his fingers beneath your chin, forces you to look up at him. “What is it, then?”

“Destruction.”

A quiet huff of cruel laughter. “See, this is the difference between me and you, darling.” He takes back his hand, runs it through his blood-streaked hair, and your chin sags to your chest without his support. “Because I already knew that. Because I have destroyed myself every single day loving you.” He squats down, eye-level, and he says, “I need you to listen to me when I say this, sweetheart: you do not love me the way I love you, because I would do worse. When it comes to you, there is nothing on this earth I would not destroy to keep you safe.”

He clears his throat. Collects whatever’s in his mouth and spits onto one of the bodies. “If this is enough to have you tucking your fucking tail between your legs, then go, because this doesn’t even scratch the fucking surface.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything, and sometimes that says it all.

Jimin presses a kiss to the top of your head. Makes a call. Cleaners will be here soon, he says, better get going.

You watch him go.

[ 37.5665° N, 126.9780° E | Seoul, SOUTH KOREA ]

Jimin’s hair is black when Namjoon calls the meeting.

He takes the seat across from Namjoon’s desk because they don’t meet like this often. Assignments are usually manila folders slipped under doors, hushed whispers in hallways confirmed with a nod or a text on a burner phone. Assignments are not last-minute assemblies in conference rooms and offices.

But the way Namjoon is looking at him, with his clenched jaw and a gaze that’s meant to look barbed to anyone who doesn’t actually know him—Jimin doesn’t need to ask what this is about.

Had he bothered to look, he would’ve known by the way you stood in the far corner of the room, face obscured by the mid-afternoon shadows. Yoongi’s close to you, for some reason: dressed head to toe in black, perched on a lateral file cabinet, using a metal corner to sharpen his switchblade. Just like a harbinger of death. Some sort of fucked up omen, a warning that’s come too late.

Didn’t I tell you this would end badly, he hears Yoongi taunt in his head. This is what happens when you lay with trash.

Easy for Yoongi to say when he doesn’t know what it means to be cared for by you. Doesn’t know how it feels to give in to the freefall and plummet at your feet, stripped back and laid bare. Doesn’t know how it feels to kiss secrets into your skin like constellations, to map his tongue along every unspoken confession.

Easy for Yoongi to say, because he doesn’t have to survive the aftermath. Doesn’t have to feel the heartbreak, the agony of having you and watching as you slip through his fingers. Yoongi doesn’t have to struggle just to breathe, doesn’t have to endure the nights staring at the ceiling, watching as the daylight creeps into the corners of his vision. Doesn’t have to watch you looking so unaffected.

“Jimin.” Namjoon’s tone is flat, needlelike.

Behind him, Yoongi chuckles lowly. “What?” Jimin asks, his gaze trained on the painting behind Namjoon’s head. Looks like one he’d seen in Berlin, the time the two of you had gone just because and spent an afternoon ducking in and out of museums to escape the rain.

When he closes his eyes, he still sees the raindrops stuck to your eyelashes. The beads of water rolling off the sleeves of your leather jacket. How blinding your smile had been. The laughter in your voice as you ordered beer after beer after beer for the two of you in flawless Berlinisch. A brief, fleeting glimpse at normalcy. At the kind of life the two of you could have if you were just… different. Lived different lives. Were different people.

“You’ve gotten sloppy.”

Namjoon’s words are a cold bucket of water. Snap him back to reality, yank him back to the present where he’s forced to leave those river-lined streets behind. You’re silent and Yoongi’s still snorting laughter. “Okay,” is all Jimin can bring himself to say.

Jin had gotten sloppy once, too, and Namjoon stuck him down in the basement to work logistics. Might not be so bad, Jimin reckons. He’d be away from you, spared of this fucking misery. “So you know that’s unacceptable.”

Jimin just shrugs, resigned to his fate, whatever it may be. “I’m reassigning the both of you,” Namjoon continues. “You’ll both have new partners for your next assignments, since you clearly can no longer be trusted together.”

“Who?” Jimin manages to choke out.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, clearly having expected an argument. “You’re being sent to Shanghai with Jungkook. You,” he says, turning his attention to you, “are going to Moscow with Taehyung.”

She’s fond of Taehyung, Jimin wants to say. But you’d been fond of him too, once upon a time, and that’d only ended in heartbreak, so who fucking cares.

They’re cruel, the tricks Jimin’s mind plays on him. How he convinces himself you look pained. How his fingers wring together at the thought of entrusting his life in the hands of someone else, someone new. At your life being just as at stake; at Taehyung being tasked with keeping you alive. Would you die for him, too, the way you’d always told Jimin you would for him? Would Taehyung take a bullet to the stomach to keep you safe the way Jimin had?

Even more cruel is the way you scoff, pushing yourself off of the wall as you fold your arms across your chest and say, “That’s bullshit, Kim Namjoon.”

No one talks to Namjoon that way except you.

Yoongi’s knife stops twirling. Just like a bird sensing a storm, senses on high-alert as he flicks his gaze over to you. “I’m sorry?” Namjoon says. “What part of Jimin losing his mind and nearly outing all of us seems like bullshit to you?”

“Hm, let me think,” you retort, a manicured finger tapping against the hollow of your cheek. “The part where you’re reassigning me for someone else’s mistake?”

Which part was the mistake? Jimin wants to ask. Needs to know how much you regret. Was sleeping with you the mistake? Falling in love with you? Getting too caught up in all these daydreams and letting reality get away from him?

“This organization is more important than Park Jimin getting his goddamn dick wet,” Namjoon snaps. “Keeping all of you safe—keeping you alive—is more—”

You scoff. Take an entire container of gasoline and pour it right on top of Namjoon’s flammable ire. “Then perhaps you’d be so kind as to explain to me why Min fucking Yoongi can fuck damn near everyone in this establishment, yet I have to sit here and listen to your goddamn mouth—”

Jimin doesn’t think Yoongi even knows his arm is moving.

There’d just been the trading of barbed words. His own name being spoken into the ether. Yoongi’s arm moving away from his body, switchblade clasped tightly between his fingers as he plunges it into your flesh.

Jimin watches it puncture your arm in slow motion. Feels the bile in his throat, the heat in his belly. Looks first at Namjoon whose jaw has gone slack, skin pale, as he stammers over words that won’t come. Then he looks at Yoongi—expects to find shock or guilt but finds only a muted disinterest and flared nostrils.

Finally, he looks at you. Watches the white cotton sleeve of your shirt slowly turn red and sticky-wet. Watches as your lips move around syllables and vowels and consonants Jimin can’t decipher.

“—fucking piece of shit, this is my favorite shirt! I’ll never get all this goddamn blood out of it—”

Jimin thinks he hears Yoongi say you deserve it. But Jimin isn’t really thinking much as he clambers out of his chair and moves in Yoongi’s direction. Doesn’t think at all as he lets instinct take over, lets adrenaline steer him headfirst into yet another bad idea.

He’s always known there’d come a day he’d be face-to-face with the sight of your blood. Had always known it’d come from someone else’s hand. Had always promised himself that hurting you would be the last thing anyone ever did.

Jimin has his fingers wrapped around Yoongi’s throat and he finally understands it—the joy Yoongi finds in taking life.

“What’s the matter, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi taunts. Jimin tightens his grip. Suddenly hates that fucking scar across Yoongi’s eye. “You’re never on clean-up duty. Always make your girlfriend do the dirty work. Finally grew some fucking balls, huh?”

“Fuck you,” Jimin says stupidly. Can’t think of anything more to say. Not that he needs to. Wrapping your hands around someone’s throat sends enough of a message, he thinks.

Namjoon’s still tongue-tied as you yank Yoongi’s blade from your arm, immediately pressing your other hand over the wound to stem the bleeding. The sight of your blood is making Jimin dizzy; the smell of the iron hanging in the air. All he wants to do is choke the life out of the man in front of him, but more than that, he just wants to hold your hand. Wants to comfort you, even though he knows you don’t need it. Not from him, not from anyone, but he still wants to. Wants to press his lips to the sweat at your brow.

And Yoongi can see it, too, because he starts laughing. It’s an odd, fractured noise. Jimin isn’t sure if he’s ever heard him laugh before, decides he also hates the way it sounds. Feels all wrong watching it leave his crooked smirk. Makes Jimin’s stomach plummet to the ground.

“Oh, you’re fucked, aren’t you?” Yoongi teases around Jimin’s slackened grip. “You weren’t just fucking her, you’re in love with her.”

Weird how Jimin is the one with his hands around someone’s neck and feels like he’s the one suffocating.

[ 31.2304° N, 121.4737° E | Shanghai, CHINA ]

Jimin watches the life drain from an innocent woman’s face and feels nothing.

Jimin watches Jungkook cut a man down and feels even less.

When it’s over, he cleans up wordlessly and doesn’t eat for three days.

[ 37.5665° N, 126.9780° E | Seoul, SOUTH KOREA ]

Jimin’s hair has faded to brown by the time he returns from Shanghai.

The more complicated job had gone to you and Taehyung. Jimin had tried not to take it personally. The Russian hits are always unnecessarily violent and Jungkook still isn’t fully trained. There’s still a phantom pain in Jimin’s stomach that warns him of the consequences of taking on more than he can chew. So, sure, Shanghai had gone fine, but his mind had been nearly 7,000 kilometers away the entire time.

Good thing he’d returned to Seoul unscathed, too, because he’s sure Namjoon would’ve eliminated him without a moment’s hesitation if he’d fucked up again.

But Shanghai had only served to prove the leader right. Jimin can’t work with you anymore. Can’t focus, can’t stomach the violence, can’t keep his goddamn head on straight.

He sighs as he glances at Jungkook to his right. Jimin had watched him murder two men in cold blood not even thirty-six hours ago and now he’s doe-eyed and sucking down his third banana milk of the morning. It really makes his head spin, being paired with this grown-up infant of a man now instead of you, but for all of Jungkook’s apparent shortcomings, he’d kept Jimin alive. He isn’t dead.

And then you walk in with Taehyung and he wishes he was.

Because you’re laughing and Taehyung’s got his arm slung around your shoulder and you look happy. It’s the kind of happiness that should be contagious, bloom warmth in his chest, but it doesn’t. It just takes the last frayed strand of hope he has and sets flame to it.

You don’t look like you miss Jimin at all. Don’t look like you’ve lost sleep or skipped meals.

“Didn’t take you long, did it?” Jimin says, because he’s wounded and lashing out. Not because he means it.

You must know he doesn’t, too, because you don’t react. “Watch your mouth, Park Jimin,” Taehyung warns, because he doesn’t know, and this only sets Jimin off more. You don’t need defending. Or had you, and Jimin had simply thought it wasn’t his place to provide it? That you wouldn’t want it?

“Or what, Kim Taehyung?”

Taehyung is cherubic. It’s part of his charm, one of many reasons why he’s so effective. If you’re looking to die, you look for the guy who looks like Yoongi, not the one who smiles wide and warm like Taehyung. So when he sets his jaw and pokes his tongue into his cheek and says, “Or I’ll cut your fucking head off, you stupid fuck,” your attention is finally piqued.

“I’m so sick of this,” Jungkook wails, banana milk tossed carelessly in the trash. “All of you need to get your fucking shit together!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes at the same time you pretend to inspect your nails. “Is that why you’re so temperamental, Chim?” Taehyung prods, looking every bit the pretentious, murderous angel he is. “Because you got sent to China on a babysitting mission while the grownups did real work?”

“Fuck you,” Jungkook snaps, rising to full height. “I’m not a fucking child.”

“Oh? Could’ve fooled me.” Taehyung’s words are razor-sharp and smell like kerosene. “Tell me, then: were you on babysitting duty? Had to look after our precious little Jiminie while he nursed his broken heart?”

You sigh, full of faux-exasperation, and place a gentle hand on Taehyung’s forearm. Dig your nails in just enough to be a warning, and if Jimin hadn’t been looking he’d miss it: the way Taehyung deflates instantly, anger dissipating like smoke, back in control. Just because you’d touched him. Just because you were there. Jimin knows that touch, how it feels to be under your control, and it makes his chest ache. Makes everything feel like it’s sitting wrong in his stomach, and he’s either going to be sick all over Namjoon’s overpriced fucking rug or wrap his hands around Taehyung’s throat the way he’d done to Yoongi.

He’s out of his goddamned mind; he feels untethered. Helpless. Like it was always going to end like this, and maybe Jimin knew that and had just ignored it. Maybe now he’s paying the price—maybe he’s finally found something he can’t afford.

Jungkook’s still going off, nasty gaze set on Taehyung because he’s the only one playing along. They’re exchanging words Jimin can’t make heads nor tails of. Words he doesn’t care about. Words that ring empty and hollow because they sound nothing like the way you say his name. Shapeless, unlike the way your lips move around those syllables.

“Jimin,” you say, the sound finally registering and bringing him back down to earth. All he can do is stare. “Can we talk?” Taehyung and Jungkook are still trading barbs.

Wonders how he got here. Looks around the room and wonders if each and every one of them is destined for this same fate, this madness. Wants to tell you why he forgot his vest, why he was three hours late in Argentina. Wants to grovel and beg and leave this place and never look back.

More than anything, he wants to know what it feels like to actually be human.

So he shakes his head. Tries not to be haunted by the way your face falls at the rejection.

There is a scar on his abdomen and a scar on your arm that both tell the same story. There is a man in the basement who is in love with a man above ground and is too weighed down by guilt to do anything about it. There is a man here who plays god, has soldiers to do his bidding, and there is very little here that Jimin has only for himself.

The two of you will have that conversation, but he needs to be human, first.

[ 34.6901° N, 135.1956° E | Kobe, JAPAN ]

This is a waste of your fucking time.

Whatever Namjoon had thought would be here doesn’t seem to exist. Yoongi can barely tolerate you on a good day, threatens to stick a dagger in your neck at least twice an hour, but the more time the two of you waste chasing ghosts, the closer he comes to unraveling entirely.

“Stop fucking staring at me,” he snaps, blowing the smoke of his cigarette right in your face.

You tut. “But you’re so beautiful, Yoongi, I just can’t help it.”

He digs his switchblade from his boot. Makes a show of flipping it open. “I can cut your fuckin’ eyes out of your skull,” he intones. “Maybe that’ll help.”

In your ear, Jimin’s laughter rings like crystal.

Ricochets off of all the corners of Seokjin’s basement, makes the echo sound warped through the earpiece. “Please tell Yoongi-ssi to keep an eye on the man with the shaved head. In front of him, roughly sixty degrees to his right.”

You relay the message. Watch as Yoongi transforms—sharpened gaze, rigid posture, disappears into the shadows. More apex predator than man. “And me?” you ask.

“Backup,” comes Seokjin’s voice. “We haven’t found your mark yet.”

You hum. Pick up the cigarette Yoongi left behind and stick it between your lips. Smoke it nearly to the filter. “You got it, boss,” you tease, just because it flusters him.

“I’m—that’s not—knock it off.”

Exhale. Stub out the cigarette. Butt in your pocket. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Jimin says, and his voice is soft, sounds like spun sugar. “Stay alive, all right?”

Jimin’s hair isn’t dyed at all.

if you've read this far: thank you so, so much! i am more appreciative than i can put into words. this is very different from what i typically write, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

i would love to hear your thoughts if you have any. <3

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts x reader #bts smut #jimin imagine #jimin scenarios #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x y/n

[8hsaturn]

astro observations #3

Pisces moon coupled with earth, especially Capricorn, are unrivaled when it comes to philosophical and social breakthroughs. they have the spiritual awareness and collective vision of Pisces hand in hand with the objectivity and discipline of earth signs, and they can therefore be masters at deconstructing the functioning of society and the psyche. it’s such a consistent pattern with notable examples such as Joan of Arc (Cap Sun and Mercury), Benjamin Franklin (Taurus Saturn, Cap Venus & Sun), Henry Dunant who founded the red cross movement (Taurus Sun and Mercury, Cap stellium), Edgar Allan Poe considered to have invented the detective fiction genre and one of the earliest contributors to the genre of sci-fi (cap sun and mercury, Pisces stellium).

Venus conjunct Mercury could purchase books just because they look pretty and aesthetically pleasing lol. The type to look for the prettiest hardcover of a book to get.

Pisces stelliums with mercury, especially if it's retrograde, have such a hard time staying focused during a conversation, other people might think they're actively ignoring them but they just can't stay attentive for too long unless it's something they wanna know more about 😭 lowkey adorable when it’s not annoying lol.

A Virgo/gemini moon is a common placement amongst rappers known for being fast. Whether it's Doja Cat, Busta Rhymes, Min Yoongi, or Dizzee Rascal… after all, the moon (emotions and the inner mind) is ruled by fast-paced mercury (an exception would be if natal mercury was deeply afflicted). Jupiter conjunct Mercury as well can indicate the same.

5h moon transits are the times when you start to develop a crush or meet up with friends, decide to practice a particular hobby, binge tv shows/movies or read books, etc… one of my fave transits particularly because my 5h is in Pisces so I spend this transit often reading and consuming/creating art, and being delusional 🤭.

3h Pluto transit can indicate a gradual shift in your mindset, gradual because it’s a very long transit. It can either be positive or negative depending on how both your natal and transit pluto aspect your natal chart + transits. As my 3rd house is in Capricorn squaring my Aries moon, I spent this transit working on my work ethic and long-time consistency, as well as my self-esteem being dependent on how much I achieve and not my thoughts and core beliefs as a person (natal 2h pluto is in Sagittarius).

12h Leo can be such a humble bragger, and very obviously so… the type to complain about how being pretty sucks because guys like them too fast, or about how being rich isn’t easy, etc… I have six friends with this placement and only one isn’t like this but they’re also far older and more mature.

9th house in cancer people are very likely to be feminists or just very passionate about gender equality if the moon is well-aspected. If not, and if Venus and IC were not well-aspected, they could be deeply misogynistic and against gender emancipation.

that's it for today, thank you for reading my observations, and don't hesitate to ask and/or comment about anything!

#astro observations #astrology notes #astrology observations #Pisces moon #pisces stellium #pisces mercury #capricorn stellium #capricorn sun #capricorn mercury #earth placements #pisces placements #venus conjunct mercury #virgo moon #gemini moon #jupiter conjunct mercury #5h moon #moon transits #pluto transits #3h pluto #12h leo #9th house in cancer #aries #taurus #cancer #leo #virgo #sagittarius #capricorn #pisces #12th house in leo

[leaderwonim]

꒰ 사랑𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧. 🫀

002: she fell in front of her sunbaenim 🤓

It wasn’t until a week later that you met the other actors and actresses in the film.

Your manager, Hongseok, had cleared pretty much your entire schedule so the rest of PRISM was out promoting while you were waiting awkwardly at the film studio, straightening out your white skirt and thinking of what to say to Sunghoon.

After all, you did kind of audition for Belift as a joke. You were really into Enhypen and Newjeans, so you sent in your singing and dancing tape thinking you weren’t going to get picked anyway. You did, though.

“Hi, sorry I’m late!” The all too familiar Australian accent pops out of nowhere, and your breathing is 10 times rapid knowing exactly who it belonged to. Pham Hanni from Newjeans.

“No worries!” You say, almost choking on the piece of bread you were taking a bite out of. “Greetings sunbaenim!”

You bow but Hanni shakes her head quickly, “ah.. no need. I read your profile, you’re a year older than me, so if anything, I should be the one saying the formalities.”

You don’t get to say anything else before the Park Sunghoon and Kim Gyuvin walk in.

Oh my God. You internally think. You almost have to hold back from fainting because how the hell are you in the presence of Hanni, Gyuvin, and Sunghoon at the same time?!

“This is our main cast,” the director says, who your manager has told you to refer to as Director Jung. “We have a few more idols but they’ll be in and out between episodes.”

The four of you nod, you suddenly feeling so small when in the same room as your talented sunbaenims.

“Today is just introduction and get to know each other day since I know this was probably brought up upon you guys suddenly and it can seem overwhelming and uncomfortable.” Director Jung smiles, showing off his bright white teeth.

“The drama is a romance one, kind of like an American coming to age except Korean, you know? It’s called Parallel Love. The main character, Baek Yunhee is played by Yoon Y/N as you all know.” He then points towards your direction, making the other 3 idols all turn their attention to you. “Yunhee’s love interest is Min Suho, played by Park Sunghoon. The reason I chose the two of you was because you were exactly how I pictured Yunhee and Suho visually and I feel like you would astound me and the viewers with your acting.”

Your eyes subtly peek at Sunghoon, who looks absolutely glorious despite his messy hair and tired eyes. The engene inside of you screamed, but you masked it by biting the inside of your cheek.

“Now, the main female antagonist is Choi Sanghee, which will be played by Pham Hanni. The main male antagonist is Park Wooseok, played by Kim Gyuvin. Sanghee and Wooseok are somewhat love interests, but they’re also Yunhee and Suho’s biggest rivals.”

The rest of Director Jung’s words went from one of your ear and out another as he kept speaking, your vision instead focused on Park Sunghoon.

“Alright, that’s all I have to say! Any questions?”

There’s a few murmurs but no one says anything, so Director Jung hands the four of you individual scripts that were so thick you could slap a person with it.

“It’s time to take the poster photos so let’s get to work guys. Don’t disappoint me.”

Way to not pressure an idol who’s life is already hectic, you think.

synopsis. you’re a newly debuted girl group under belift, and in order for your group to gain more popularity, your ceo offered you the lead role in a new romance kdrama. this all seems great, so what’s the problem? well, for starters, your co star is your senior, park sunghoon from enhypen, and he doesn’t seem too happy about being in a romance drama. especially when your fans have started to ship the two of you!

masterlist | previous | next

taglist ( is open ) @isawritesss @rodygr @wonifullove @mrchweeee @nyfwyeonjun @yizhoutv @cupkiki @rikizm @jiaant11 @woninluv @brachioanton @seunnimg @jongseongslvr @luvswonyoung @laylasmother @akuspic @haechansbbg @haerinsii @mnxnii

#yn so relatable 😊🙏 #sarang 🫀 psh! #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen texts #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen socmed au #enhypen social au #enhypen smau #enhypen soft hours #enhypen social media au #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon angst #sunghoon smau #sunghoon

[emblazons]

so I swore I was not going to start speculating off of set images, but given the one's we've gotten of Dustin so far, I cannot help myself (plus it's fun). Still: none of the theories I've seen so far make as much sense to me as this being tied to Dustin's trauma and him having a Vecna Vision/Flashback, which becomes clearer the more you put the details revealed in the images into the context we've been given by S4 + The Duffers.

First, the images I'm referencing (TW: IMAGE SPOILERS):

Separately, these things (the basketball players, Dustin's hellfire fit being the same at both the grave and school + him wearing Eddie's rings + Mike's hair & attire) all feel a bit disparate...until you remember the things both Dustin is trying to cope with (Eddie's death + feeling like an outsider) and the Duffers have said re: Eddie and his effect on the characters (listen if you can, its only 3 min). Why?

Well, because we know for a fact that 1) Dustin and Mike were the ones who felt most aligned with Eddie given their being bullied—

—even though we spent all of S4 building the bond between Dustin and Eddie in particular, because Mike was in California with Will.

Similarly (and while I know it's not primary canon), we get this context from Lucas in Lucas on the Line, which corroborates Dustin's comment about Lucas "making all his sports friends" and feeling deeply betrayed by that fact—

—and even stuff about Mike's appearance "not changing" (pre-hellfire, in the moments he's still in S3/regressive conformist territory +not embracing himself)....something that Eddie talks about in S4 when he comments on the look Mike had when he met him.

(I've also already commented on that Mike's shirt looks a lot like the one El wears post Rink-O-Mania in S4—which plays a lot into the idea of Mike giving El a shirt that represents conformity to him (just like her being his girlfriend does, given he cannot be himself in front of her at all in S4).

Combining all of these things though—Dustin being the only one who is in the Hellfire shirt (while all the other extras look a very "S1 good suburban kid" I/ first day of school), Mike showing up (also looking like his 'conformist' self in contrast), Basketball players being on the scene (the people Dustin felt stole Lucas from him)...combined with him in the same outfit at the grave of the person he felt defended him from those losses and challenges in high school?

It's giving Dustin's grief / worst thoughts thrown back at him 100%.

Given that Eddie, who he lost in an extremely traumatic fashion is the one who said forced conformity (which Mike is showing up dressed as alongside Lucas's basketball friends) killed the kids—

—and now they are facing off with Vecna (and Henry by extension, whose says shit like THIS) on top of asking people to "join him" in his displeasure with the world when he 'takes their souls?'

On top of the fact that we KNOW for a fact there is time fuckery coming for us...and it's likely enough that it's 'now 'canonically 1986 (or near it), which is reminiscent of this moment (likely remembered and traumatizing for Dustin specifically)?

Yeah. Flashback / lead up into Vecna torture is exactly what it gives to me—the things causing the event / the moments that lead into the torture. Especially knowing the scenes shot first (aka now) are generally more SFX complex because they take the most time.

bonus: @magentamee also brought up some great points on this theory here!

bonus bonus: I wrote something on Dustin and standing apart from relationship conformity as early as S3 here and wrote up the relationship he has with nonconformity today, which I think plays into his feelings of alienation / what Vecna might pull him apart from his friends by showing him.

#analysis marie back with a vengance with only 6 pics smh #BUT I HAD TO MAKE THIS. IT WAS PULLING AT ME ON MY DRIVE TO WORK THE SECOND I SAW THE FINN PICS LMAO #st5 spoilers #st5 speculation #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #stranger things #st s5 #my st commentary

[lovelyraven01]

Our Life NSFW HCs

Featuring: Cove, Derek, Baxter, and Jeremy x GN!Reader

Warnings: NSFW writings. Unedited/not proofread. Minors/ageless blogs DNI. Dirty talk. Shower sex. Face fucking/blowjobs. Overstim.

1.4k words ~ 10 min read

Cove loves showering you with praise during sex, often times getting super emotional. He’s a switch and doesn’t mind who takes control, as long as he gets to be close to your perfect body. When he’s close to his release he’ll whine and cry and bury his head in your neck because it just feels so good :(<3 Your anklet (especially if it’s the one he bought) is his weakness and if you keep it on during sex he’ll toy with it while he goes down on you. Definitely the aftercare type, smothering you with gentle kisses and reassuring words. He can get flustered easily and needs encouragement to keep going at times, but he wants to please you so bad and would go down to the ends of the Earth to do so <3

Soft moans and whimpers bounced off the bedroom walls as you rode Cove, his dick reaching the deepest parts of your walls. His hands had an almost bruisingly tight grip on your hips, not because he wants to leave a mark or hurt you but it just feels so good he can’t help himself. As you slowly bounced on his cock, you could feel your strength fading. You looked down at your partner with needy eyes, leaning forward to kiss and bite at his neck.

“Cove….” You whimpered, slowing your hips down to grind into him, making you gasp as his tip reached that special spot inside you.

“N.. Need help…”

As fast as a light switch, he flipped you over so he was back on top. His eyes full of lust but his face showed nothing but love. He pushes your legs up towards your chest as he enters inside you once again, making you moan loudly as his cock stretches you out.

“I love you so much,” He whines, tears welling up in his pretty blue eyes. You moaned his name, feeling your walls clamp down on his dick. Feeling your tightness, he picked up the pace; kissing anywhere his lips could reach your body.

“P-please, I can’t hold back anymore..!”

~

Derek is a sweetheart who will always prioritize your needs before his own. He’ll take his time worshipping every part of your body, kissing and licking at your sensitive skin and leaving marks wherever he pleases. He loves using his hands and could touch you for hours, longing to hear your cute whimpers as you cum all over him. He’ll lick you clean and do it all over again until you beg him to just fuck you already. Despite growing confidence over the years, he can still be insecure at times and appreciates it when you tell him just how good he makes you feel. <3

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes as your whole body shook from another orgasm, your vision going white. As you came down from your high Derek planted kisses all over your neck and chest, rubbing your thighs gently for comfort.

You’ve came twice already and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. Despite loving every second of his touch, your patience was running thin. You wanted him inside you so so bad.

“D-Der…” You cry softly, grinding your body against his in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. He looks into your eyes, a slight concern arose in him as he noticed your tears.

“You okay, hun?” He asks gently, wiping your tears. You nodded, running your shaky hands down his body slowly. You stop at his dick to slowly stroke it, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“I need you…please.”

He smiles softly, a faint blush appearing across his cheeks. He complies, spreading your legs once more to align himself at your entrance. Placing one last kiss onto your lips, he slowly thrusts into you; letting out a soft moan as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Anything for you, my love.”

~

Baxter is definitely the kinkiest of the bunch, he loves to hear you whine and beg for him. He’s big into orgasm control and will tease you until tears roll down your face and you’re begging for more. Of course because you’re so precious he’ll always reward you for being good.

Although he won’t say it out loud, he loves it when you suck him off. The way you gag and whine so preciously around his cock as he shoves it down your throat makes him go crazy. While he’s good at staying in control of his urges, all of that goes out the window the second he starts fucking your pretty face <3

“Mmm, fuuuck…” Baxter moans, caressing your face and holding your hair back for you as you take his cock into his mouth. The sounds of your muffled gags fill the room, and he’d be lying if said he didn’t love every fucking minute of it.

You stop your actions to catch your breath, a trail of saliva hanging from your lips as you slowly glide your tongue along the length of his dick, looking up at him with your pretty eyes.

That was all that he needed for him to lose all of his self control, grabbing hold of your hair once again before giving you a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Please put your full trust in me for a few minutes, dear.” He warns, his chest rising and falling heavily with his breaths. He was so so close and needed to fuck that beautiful face of yours so badly.

Knowing exactly what he wants, you open your mouth eager to take him in and flash him the prettiest puppy dog eyes you can manage. He chuckled darkly, wasting no more time to claim your throat as his.

“You know exactly what to do to drive me crazy, doll.”

~

Jeremy. Sex is a difficult topic for Jeremy due to his germaphobia, and just because he’s… Jeremy. He feels most comfortable being intimate in the shower or bath, adoring the way the water rolls down your skin and glistens every part of your body. While he’s on the more vanilla side, he loves to bend you over the edge of the tub and whisper degrading things into your ear. He’s not too big into oral (or so he says) but for someone who says that he sure did seem to enjoy it that one time…<3

“J-Jer…” You whine, a gasp escaping your lips every thrust he makes. The warm water cascades over your body and face, spilling onto the bathroom floor but neither of you could be bothered.

His thrusts were slow but strong, every movement he made sent you more and more into a pleasured haze. He brought you back to reality by grabbing your hair, pulling it back so he could whisper in your ear.

“Shut up and take it,” he growls, purposely slowing down even more to focus on going deeper, hitting your most sensitive spot with ease. He lets go of your hair and bends down to kiss and nip at your collarbone and shoulder, wrapping his arm around your neck to pull you deeper into him. With his free hand he slowly rubbed your sex.

Tears pricked at your eyes from the overstimulation, your legs shaking and threatening to buckle on you. Jeremy held you upright, picking the pace back up and fucks you harder.

“Is it too much for you?” He mocks, rolling his tongue along your damp neck. “Don’t think you can take it?”

You shook your head, your heavy pants and whimpers filled the air. Your walls clamped onto his cock as you suddenly came with no warning, your body shaking and your lip quivering. You heard a deep moan escape from Jeremy as he came inside you.

“Dirty slut…” He mutters, giving your ass a quick slap before slowly sliding out of you. You turned around to face him and sat on the edge of the tub, trying to catch your breath. Your whole body was shaking as you tiredly looked up at him, silently begging for any type of comfort.

He sighed, softly rolling his eyes as the smallest smile turned on the corner of his mouth. He bent down to kiss your forehead, and extended a hand out to you to help you back on your feet.

The rest of the shower was in silence, but in a comfortable one. Jeremy washed your hair for you after a bit of convincing and even let you do his for once. You smiled, despite his cold demeanor and stubbornness, he always found a way to show you he cared. In his own weird way.

#cove holden #our life beginnings & always #cove x gn reader #baxter ward #jeremy king #xoxo droplets #derek suarez #smut

[alltimefail-sims]

Okay friends I need to talk about this little girl for a second because Shereé is so!!!!! freaking!!! cute!!!!! I can't stand it!!!

I didn't want to take the spotlight off of Terrance in my main submission post, but let's talk about Shereé a little bit!

Fun headcanons about the Chapman family below the cut! ❤️❤️❤️

When I was dressing her up and adding little details to each outfit category I wanted the baubles in her hair to be different colors to reflect my vision of Shereé sitting cross-legged on the living room floor while Terrance sits on the sofa behind her, swapping each one out to match her outfit for the day. 🥺💕

Also you can't really see them super well in the screenshots but she is wearing diamond studs in the shape of her favorite cartoon character, Hello Kitty! I imagine they were her first "big girl" earrings - the first ones she got to switch the standard piercing studs out with - and they were a birthday present from her dad!!

Speaking of ear piercings: when the Claire's associate pulled out the piercing guns Terrance was more scared than Shereé was lmao. He might have shed a tear or two because (1) when she initially flinched at the pain he nearly died and (2) he was hit with the overwhelming feeling that his baby girl is growing up waaaaaay too fast!

Shereé is kind of a picky (and bougie) eater and that's what got Terrance into cooking in the first place!! He was a chronic doordasher before she came around! When Shereé tries something at a restaraunt and likes it, Terrance enjoys the challenge of making the dish at home "but better." He's successful about 45% of the time 😒 (lol).

I said in the OG post that Shereé wants to be "a superstar" when she grows up and that's because she loooooooves to sing, dance, and play her piano! I imagine she would be a drama club and choir girly, but if ballet was a thing in game she would do that as well! I also imagine she goes to weekly private piano lessons. She's just super damn talented and Terrance will tell anyone and everyone in the vicinity about it!

Terrance lets Shereé try out her new nail polish colors on him and sometimes they will even play spa, dress-up, makeover, fashion show, etc. Terrance does not GAF about boy game this girl game that he's just gonna play and make his daughter happy!

Like her peers she was not immune to the TikTok influencer Stanley cup madness unfortunately, but she is "Way too mature" to bully anyone! But tbh if Terrance found out she was being a bully over a damn cup he would toss that shit in the trash with a quickness anyway 😂

Shereé can be heard saying "You're too grown for that daddy" at least once a day. He will never escape the childish allegations, not even from his own daughter lmao.

When I went into their household in game the first autonomous thing Shereé did was complain about the heat... so I guess she doesn't like summer very much and especially doesn't like hot weather 😂

Also I got an ask about how to pronounce Shereé and I would pronounce is SHER-RAY as opposed to SHER-REE, if that makes sense. (I couldn't find a video with this specific pronunciation but if you've ever seen The Real Housewives of Atlanta I believe Shereé Whitfield pronounces it like this as well!!!)

Okay I'm gonna shut up - I've gotten the oversharing about these characters out of my system (for now). I'll end this with the cute popups they got about each other in the literal miniscule 5 mins I spent in their household:

Obsessed with them, genuinely and truly. My heart can't take it

***Please ignore that her accented 'e' is missing from the whims. I was just testing the household. Her name is correct now <3 These sentiments were too cute not to share though

#ts4 #simblr #ts4 cas #the sims 4 #show us your sims #the sims community #sims 4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 gameplay #my ocs #oc: terrance #oc: shereé

[longtimenospooning-luci]

Yoongi:

Updated 01/20/24

Desolate - @angelicyoongie

you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you’re not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

Only Yesterday - @borathae

"Your life in a small countryside village was nothing of the extraordinary, you owned a quaint little teashop, enjoyed warm evenings in your garden and liked taking walks by the river. One day a handsome stranger moves in the abandoned cottage opposite side of the river and it is not long that he becomes a source of comfort in your life.”

Only for You - ^^

“Yoongi likes to pretend that he only lets you fuck him because you are the one who wanted it. You are hellbound on showing him that you have long seen past his lies.”

License to Steal - @broiunno

Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father’s side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you’ve been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family’s plans. You don’t know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter.

Highway to You - @btsmosphere

Yoongi never expected to see you again. Least of all with a gun in your hand, crashing an important deal in a whirlwind which proves how much has changed.

Call Me Naïve - @btsrunmylife

You and Yoongi have never exactly gotten along. Truthfully, this wouldn’t be such an issue if you didn’t work together. But there have been far too many times when his sarcastic comments have rubbed you the wrong way. His most recent shenanigan might just be the icing on the cake, especially because you know absolutely nothing about it until it’s too late. What’s worse is he’s gotten his friend involved, a friend you happen to get along with rather well — maybe too well. Yoongi’s intentions really weren’t to drive you away. His curiosity merely got the best of him. But now…he’s woven an intricate mess he can’t get out of. And he can’t help but wonder, will this be the thing that finally pushes you over the edge?

Fix You - @casuallyimagining

When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?

Home - ^^

Sequel to Fix You

The Lonely Hearts Club - @cinnaminsvga

social media au where y/n and yoongi are mutuals but they’re constantly at each other’s throats for reasons unknown (aka emotional constipation)

From the Ashes - @fortunexkookie

Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.

Tip of the Iceberg - ^^

Oh, that Min boy? He’s a sweetheart, of course. Jimin said something about him getting into a new relationship with someone, but he hasn’t brought her by yet, so I can’t be sure. I just hope this one sticks around, he’s really so much more than he first seems to be. All those tattoos and whatnot, people tend not to notice that he’s really just so caring and gentle. You know he works at one of those stuffed animal stores in his free time? The ones with the dancing and the hearts and picking out your new best friend kind of theme. Ah, what a nice boy. I hope he has a good holiday. I’ll have to ask Jimin how it goes.

Asphodel - @hayjeon

hades!yoongi and persephone!reader.

Maybe I'm a Little Dangerous, Maybe Love is Too - @hollyhomburg

Rare soulmate marks don’t guarantee that you find your soulmate easily, and when your soulmate is the head of a mafia, being together will never be easy either…

Of Fire and Love - ^^ (ABSOLUTE FAV!!!!)

When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops off a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of the woods.

Stuck Together - @jeonvely

when the pandemic first started, you never thought you’d have to stay quarantined in your apartment with yoongi, one of your roommate’s friends and a guy you’ve never met. and you definitely did not expect you’d end up falling for him.

Souvenir - @jiminrings

Shouldn't this be the part where you tell him not to stay out too late? (Alternatively, yoongi thinks you hate him because you don't coddle him after a fight.)

Perpetual Datejust - ^^

When the general public hears the name Min Yoongi, they know him as the world-famous model who's beyond talented in his craft. When the modeling industry hears the name Min Yoongi, they remember you: his resolute, firm, and sometimes rude manager who always puts Yoongi's best interests at heart - no matter what. (Alternatively, you're Yoongi's manager and for the first time ever, you take a break away from him.)

Worshipers of the Stars - @jimlingss

The universe was created with four gods to rule and watch over it. But when you take the crown and become god of all gods, what the future holds is something you never wanted to know.

Inheritance - @jincherie

After your grandmother passed she left everything to you. Her house, her fortune, and apparently… her cat? The grumpy male hybrid you encounter at her house is anything but the tame housecat you’d expected to find. Fulfilling your grandmother’s last request to look after him becomes a lot harder when he seems to be avoiding you, and your dissatisfied relatives start stirring up trouble.

Budapest - @junghelioseok

Secret Agent AU!

Suit & Tie - @jungshookz

Your new boss makes you want to drive a letter-opener right into your eyeball. (CEO AU!)

Technologically in Love - ^^

Hello, I am M1N Y00NGI, your personal human mind model adaptive super android.

Hellish - ^^

Demon AU! Pink Himalayan sea salt can't help you now.

Basketball Captain!Yoongi - ^^

Min Yoongi - Captain of the basketball team. y/l/n y/n - water girl.

Baby you can Drive my Car - ^^

Welcome to Min Mechanics - what can I do for you today, doll?

Carnival - @justcallmenikki7

you and your boyfriend, Min Yoongi, go to the local Carnival.

Happier - ^^

in which, you want to make yoongi happier. (By letting him go.)

How to Save a Life - ^^

Angst, read the warnings first please!

Reassurance - ^^

Your boyfriends worries sets Suga, his alter ego, and you are the only one who can reassure him that you are never going to leave.

Be my Baby - @kimnjss

when the love of his life suddenly vanishes, he drives himself mad looking for her. seemingly erased from the world, he’s forced to pick up the pieces of his life and move on… fast forward three years and someone who looks a lot like the woman he lost is being spotted, holding a kid with an oddly familiar gummy smile…

Cyberslut - ^^

he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

Cold Shoulder - @kookiesbuckethat

Yoongi suddenly starts giving you the cold shoulder, causing you to distance yourself from him and the rest of the members. But the reason behind his behavior is not what you think.

Row AQ - @kpopfanfictrash

"If I die, I'm going to haunt your ass." + Library AU!

Min Yoongi, Library Services - ^^

When you accept the offered research position at Bangtan University, you are well aware of your partner's prestige. The only problem is - so is he.

Fury of their Scales - @kpopisthereasonihavenolife

a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

Seeing You Again - @lachimolala7

Soft Mafia Yoongi!

The Mark of Yun-Ki - @ladyartemesia

For a thousand years the tiger god Yun-Ki has marked the heirs of the Min Empire and thus only a marked heir can inherit the throne. When the beautiful daughter of the Min Emperor’s loyal warlord rescues a mysterious tiger hybrid from the imperial prison, she unleashes a secret that the throne would kill to protect. The young emperor claims to be the chosen heir… but who really bears the Mark of Yun-Ki?

Okay Bloomer - @luxekook

in which the reader visits a flower shop on her way home from work to treat herself to a flower and then keeps returning just to interact with the shop’s cute tsundere floral assistant. the last thing she expects is to see him ~spitting hot fire~ and looking hot as sin at her friend’s music event. how is she supposed to get flowers in peace now?

Intimidation - ^^

in which you think Yoongi is intimidating because of his dark clothing and his quiet ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude… but then someone makes him laugh and you watch as his face lights up in the cutest gummy smile complete with shining eyes and blushing cheeks and BOOM you’re whipped for that boy

Intensity - ^^

sequel to intimidation. in which yoongi is intense in every facet of their relationship, except one… and the reader is on a mission to find out why.

Playing for Keeps - @namjoonxorg

“Our best friends are dating, but you’re still the spawn of Satan.”

Spilled Coffee - ^^

This never would’ve happened if we hadn’t have met!”

Bullet Holes and Blush - ^^

Hi!! I really like your writing and I saw that your request are open! I wanted to know of you did any BTS maf au! And if yes, can I get a Bts maf au x reader where all of them are in the mafia (duh 😂) and she comes back from a mission or place injured and their super worried? It doesn’t need to be a specific ship, anything is fine!! -Anonymous

Enigma - @neonlights92

After the death of your father leaves you in a lot of a debt to Bangtan - Seoul’s most nefarious crime syndicate - you are offered a way out: marry Min Yoongi - Bangtan’s most elusive member- and produce him an heir and your father’s debt will be forgotten. Without a choice, you are soon tied to a man who you are absolutely terrified of. But you cannot ignore the part of you that is thrilled by Yoongi. And what scares you the most isn’t the blood on his hands, or the gun he always carries in his pocket. It’s the things he’s capable of doing to your heart.

Hearing Voices - @persphonesorchid

Fate is working double-time to help these boys, sometimes it’s all too easy and then there are times when things get complicated. But, she’ll get it done, no problem!

Ride or Die - @ppersonna

there’s nothing in the world you wouldn’t do for Min Yoongi. (Bonnie & Clyde AU)

I'll Float Away - ^^

years after the breakup, yoongi, a successful award-winning rapper with an unhealthy addiction, finds your wedding invite on Facebook.

Spotlight - @secret-kpoplibrary

when shit hit the fan in y/n’s life she used it as the push she needed to finally leave her home and take a leap of faith landing her in one of the world’s busiest cities. Seoul, South Korea. Running from more than a couple dark secrets of her past y/n tries to move forward with her new life and not so lowkey friends she met over the past couple years, but you can’t outrun your past now, can you?

Ghost of You - ^^

“My feet don’t dance like they did with you”

Out of Love - ^^

“When did you fall out of love with me?”

Hello Paradise, My Name Is - @seokoloqy

Buried in the Earth where seasons did not exist, where all prosperous life perished, and Helios’s blinding light could not touch; you slept soundly in the arms of darkness.

Mint - ^^

you find yourself back in Hades when Spring turns to Fall, but this time you’re less than thrilled to see your husband after learning of his ex-lover, Minthe.

Aidoneus, My Love - ^^

Yoongi believes the mortal, Adonis, has stolen your heart, but he will never share his love with anyone else for as long as he is king of the underworld.

I Wanna Hold your Hand - @minisugakoobies

It’s hand-holding season, according to your roommate.

Bury Me - @tae-cup

“Someone who loves you wouldn’t do this” - Conan Gray (Family Line). Mafia!AU, Arranged Marriage, Angst, Fluff

Purr-haps I Like You - @taleasnewastime

You have a no pets policy where you live, but when you find a tiny kitten in a box on the side of the road, what can you do but bring it home with you? The only problem? The landlord who made the no pets rule, also happens to be your flatmate.

Dangerous Situation after an Argument - @thebangtancloud

Enemies to Friends(?)

Silent Treatment - ^^

Yoongi is upset with you because you don't give him time. That's until you come back home and don't walk straight into his arms like you usually do.

All the Things I Didn't Do - ^^

A series of unfortunate events leads to Yoongi asking you to leave, hurting you with words that he wished he never uttered. But what would he do when he finds out that you’ve gone missing? How can he find you when he’s all the way across the world? How can he tell you that he regrets letting you go?

A Kiss to Forever - @threeletterslife

You're only six years old when you meet Death himself. As you grow older with him faithfully by your side, you realize he should've taken you away then, years and years ago. Yet, he hadn't. He had given you another chance to live.

Sticky Notes - ^^

You and Yoongi aren't very good with words. But there's a perfect, nonverbal form of communication that might just help tie your relationship back together.

To Begin Again - @untaemedqueen

Hey. Can I please request a story where the reader is their new makeup artist and she falls in love with Yoongi after he rescues her from her boyfriend one night. And Jin is her best friend. Thank you so much!

The Deal - ^^

Drug Lord!Yoongi x Coffee Shop Owner!Reader

The Devil Skates on Thin Ice - @vankoya

The number one rule of Korea National Sports University is to never allow their elite figure skater and the captain of the ice hockey team be in the same room.

Unkept Promises - @xforeverweareyoungx

“Have you ever, even for a day, even for a moment.. loved me?”

Too Little Too Late - ^^

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Yoongi..“

Greedy - @xjoonchildx

being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now. until you.

Close Call - ^^

burying your head in the sand won’t change the fact that the man you love walks a thin line between life and death. and sometimes you can’t outrun your worst fears.

Not Your Fairytale - @yeojaa

What do you do when you’ve called your wedding off but forgot to cancel your cake tastings? Why, you ask your brother’s grouchy best friend, of course.

#min yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi drabble #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

[markantonys]

okay quick 2x04 thoughts before i go off to make some gifs!

moiraine in cairhien was so fun!! loved getting a peek at her childhood and family

i gasped when it was revealed that moiraine (and presumably siuan) deliberately planted logain in cairhien to lure rand, even though i should've seen it coming! i should've known moiraine's always playing 4D chess!

WE STAN ANVAERE, absolute queen shit. she out-moiraine'd moiraine! also, as a younger sister who spent my whole childhood craving my older sister's approval, Felt

i'll admit i'm not jazzed about lan's storyline this episode. it was a little interesting and i liked getting a look at what alanna is like "outside of work", and she and maksim and ihvon continue to be top-tier secondary characters, but it felt like too much time and i wish some of this screentime had gone to mat or egwene instead. though i'm guessing we'll be getting much less of lan and more of others (especially egwene, for obvious reasons) next week!

but i AM intrigued by the direction they're going with lan's bond. everyone had speculated alanna's absorbing myrelle, but given that lan's getting on pretty well with them all and alanna seems to be leaving the decision in his hands and even suggests he could soon bond with nynaeve, i really do wonder if they might just have lan's bond go straight to nynaeve post-moiraine's-"death" and keep alanna & rand as the only non-consensual bonding in the show. it's a bit of a repetitive plot beat and i don't think anything would break if lan's version of it was skipped.

egwene referencing rand to elayne but without mentioning his name or any distinguishing info about him!!!!! this definitely gives me hope for a cute little scene of rand and elayne encountering each other in falme without realizing they have mutual friends.

i was SO confident that blonde warder trainee in the trailer was gawyn, but it turns out he was just a random background guy! i have been catfished! but maaaaaaybe it really was him but he just wasn't credited because he's not being officially introduced until a later episode? please???

LEANE'S OUTFIT!!! and ooooh great setup for the falme trip AND the coup next season (i'm sure some people will be more convinced by liandrin/elaida merger after this scene, but i truly don't think that'll happen bc a) it wouldn't work storywise for a number of reasons, b) if they were merging them they would've named the character elaida instead of liandrin)

i LOVED perrin's scenes with elyas!!! and this is coming from someone who was always bored to tears by perrin povs in the books! elyas delivering exposition like it was the most obvious thing in the world and perrin's an idiot for not knowing was a GREAT vibe haha and we have confirmation that perrin's visions aren't a visual representation of his smelling abilities, but rather sendings from the wolves! and we got hopper!!!!!

liandrin's convo with nynaeve was SO GOOD. i was going "awww this is so sweet, i love this" "oh wait, betrayal incoming, shit" djkjfg they did a great job of making it believable that nynaeve (and the audience) would trust liandrin's word about going to falme. also, the show's focus on the tragedy of aes sedai longevitiy is excellent, 10/10

elayne my beloved!!!!! "yes i'm following you obviously" i love her your honor!!!! and the earlier moment where she admits being curious about what it's like not to have your whole life mapped out, but then says she wouldn't trade places with egwene. baby! can't wait to get to her queen arc eventually!

FASCINATED by the reveal that min is working with liandrin because liandrin had promised to take her powers away from her. what an amazing story choice!!! it lends min some much-needed narrative meat, it makes SO much sense that she would find uncontrollable foresight to be a burden and a curse, and it sets up a potential arc of her learning more about/coming to terms with her powers. in the books she never has many thoughts on what it's like to have these powers, so i LOVE that the show is going to explore that more.

overall i'm quite surprised by the relative lack of mat in the season so far! i'd assumed they'd want a lot of time with him early since he was out of the final 2 eps of s1. but i'm sure he'll get a more focal episode later! on that note, i'm a bit worried because imdb doesn't have min in episode 5, and they do have mat, but it could just be because donal is a regular so gets billed for every episode even if he doesn't appear. because i'm not sure it'd make sense for mat to appear but not min next episode? but it's possible, and it's also possible that min will appear and imdb isn't accurate. still, i'm bracing myself for no mat storyline next week.

at least we got confirmation on the where & why of their trip: cairhien because ishamael wants to get mat and rand back together!! highly relatable of him, i must say

i don't even know what to say about the rand & lanfear stuff, it was SO good i'm shaking!!!!! but poor rand has probably been put off bondage forever now which is absolutely tragic djkfjgh

update to add: i can't believe moiraine walked in on rand mid-sex (with a forsaken) i hope they have the world's awkwardest conversation about it once they've stopped fleeing for their lives. there is a spectrum and This & mean girls "do you need anything? snacks? a condom?" are on opposite ends of it

#wot #wot on prime #wot show spoilers #wot book spoilers

[carai-an-caldazar]

Real talk for a second

I find it hilarious how many people are angry about the Siuan changes. Just because you personally didn't mind the other changes, doesn't mean they weren't there before

Perrin was married and sees visions. Female channelers can't sense each other's potential, throwing over the whole White Tower's hierarchy. Rand went to the Eye with only Moiraine. Mat didn't even go to Shienar, and was healed from the dagger with one measly attempt from Moiraine. Ingtar is da'covale. Liandrin had a son. Min is in the wind instead of in Falme helping Egwene escape.

"Siuan picks the side of the White Tower" is relatively minor compared to some of these, especially considering that her fall is already foreshadowed. Her plot progression is intact, because it's the White Tower and the Aes Sedai will have to find a scapegoat for their shit show eventually, and who better to blame than their leader. Not to mention that book!Siuan never ever gives up on the Tower and works tirelessly to reunite it stronger, and better. She is and will always be the Amyrlin Seat, and will always choose duty over love - a trait she exhibits again and again and again

She will fall. She will proceed. She was never written to end up with Moiraine

Get over yourselves

#honestly #there are plenty of reasons to dislike the show #but at least pick a good one #wot #wheel of time #siuan sanche #wot s2 #wheel of time season 2 #wot book spoilers #wot critical #? #I don't really know how to tag commentary like this #any feedback is welcome

[scorchedhearth]

omg if u feel like elaborating i would LOVE 2 hear more about how kyle would get the red ring in ur head <3

while i understand why the comics have kyle master the red ring thru atrocitus making him angry, after all its the most logical way to do that if u don't care about character arcs and growth, i still find it deeply stupid and disagree with that choice, like most of his white lantern arc choices

atrocitus, especially in his early appearances, is calm and collected, he has bursts of rage, of course, but often talks out his ideas, he explains more than once his motivations and organizes the red lanterns and guides them pretty rationally, in addition to all the times he spends thinking and being alone with his thoughts. he's smart and knows how to think, and he wouldn't need long to get how to draw rage out of kyle

i think the best way to appeal to kyle is thru love and personal involvement. he is a hero and cares deeply and wants to save ppl but tragedy makes him sad, not angry. the only time we see him truly mad and out of himself with anger is when his family and friends are hit, alex, terry, his mom, etc. his scariest moments are when he forgoes any of his self-imposed limits to avenge the ppl he loves, which is the whole point of the red ring in the first place, not just mindless anger but the anger of the victims seeking justice

i don't think atrocitus showing him a bunch of ppl dying in conflicts would do it. kyle would be sad, and would want to involve himself and do something, frustrated he can't, angry, but it wouldn't strike him deep enough to be mad with rage, even with atrocitus keeping him from acting, he would be angry at atrocitus himself but 20 min in an armlock is really not enough to make him or anyone feel truly powerless.

it would not be enough to unlock his rage and let him tap into it: every single red lantern has been created because of terrible injustices that have been inflicted on them or their lives, not nondescript or tragedies that do not involve them directly

in my perfect kyle white lantern run, atrocitus would not even try brute force with him, he would know kyle's reputation and would pick it out from talking with him for five minutes. instead, he would take him away and put him on his altar and do some magic, get inside his own head and pick at all those moments of ugly, cold, devastating rage that overtook him in his past and make him understand that rage is a powerful tool, not just something to fight and get over (that's where we hit a roadblock with the concept of the rings and strictly divided emotions, u cannot only feel one, they're intertwined, but that's another topic, because once again just like everything for kyle, his anger is linked to his love and grief)

kyle does accept his anger, especially in his later stories, and does work with it, but it's never for its sake, he pushes thru and leaves it behind and tries to calm down and get himself under control. another point is that kyle does not want to be angry, he does not seek it out and will try to remain calm in situations until something beyond his control tips the balance and angers him beyond control (see examples above) and we see how being in that state tires him out. so another thing would be for atrocitus to show him how anger can keep the fire burning, not just start it, can be a useful tool, and how to dreg up the painful memories and feelings and channel them

my vision is kyle on his altar, atrocitus digging his knife inside him and drawing out blood to use for his magic, it would involve kyle living through those memories of anger but atrocitus not seeing them, he would stand by his side and guide him thru it all like those meditation podcasts do. he would tell him about his own ring, how he feels maddening rage every minute of every day about what happened to his family and how he channels that anger, not the love or sorrow he felt and feels but the white-hot burning point of his anger that keeps him walking, keeps him fighting, how the fire keeps him alive, the desires to take revenge and serve out justice that was never met being his way to honor the memory of those unjustly killed, that forgiving will not bring them back just like vengeance won't, but that there must be consequences dealt to right the balance (and maybe even meet with other lanterns with their own perspective, like that one red lantern who doesn't agree, or bleez who challenges atrocitus on that view)

just, conversations about what anger means to each individual, and how kyle comes to face his own capacity for it when he spent so long avoiding it and seeking peaceful and rational outcomes, sometimes working against his emotional desires (especially in the arcs before his white lantern and how the corps fell apart, how he tried to follow glc logic and was failed by them)

anger being the one ring kyle mastered without fighting or making construct would be an interesting perspective on it, and challenge his view on it, that yes atrocitus has been shown into great fits of rage but here he is, sitting on his altar as he explains his life and reasons for it all and asks him to lay down so he can do a ritual with him. calmy, because anger is not just destruction, anger builds as well. and it's also because i need to see kyle with his ribs split open and blood running down his body <3

the next steps would be atrocitus killing him, slipping the ring on his finger and letting him emerge as a feral being and plunging him in the lake of blood, having explained all he can to him he lets kyle fight his way out of the lake, understand his own anger and desires for justice separate from his duty as a hero. because that's another thing, it's vital that this arc is later in his career, in the beginning we see how he tries to uphold heroes' values (don't kill, save ppl, be impartial, etc) and later on embraces the green lantern corps and some of their views before evolving thru all he goes thru (ion, ion2, the fall of the corps, everything that happens when he's on earth, etc) that push him to reconsider his own ethics and moral stance. i dont think he could come to agree with personal vendetta and bloody vengeance before his mom was murdered

but mostly, it's about him being able to dredge up that anger without the memories, and being able to keep it steady enough to use it, forcing him to recon with the anger he has in himself and how he can call himself kyle and live his life on his love and duty to other while harboring depth of rage and fear beyond any other (if we follow the idea that ring bearer have the most of X emotions in their sector). i think it would be very satisfying to see kyle after so long trying his best to be a good person learn about this anger and embrace it, it would give him an edge and a sharper character that would be fascinating to dig into. the white lantern, the being supposed to look over the universe and keep it safe, being able to feel rage so terrible he spits up burning blood and still looks composed and in control the entire him. scary stuff <3

#asks #derelictship #this got long god. does it makes sense? hope u enjoy ive been thinking about this a lot it could be so cool to write it

[manawari]

Ruler Vessel!Min Byung-gyu.

I thought about that panel where Byung-gyu visited Cha Hae-in in her dreams about Jin-woo's powers and I realized this could be an au for Byung-gyu being a vessel of a ruler.

Imagine it! Yes, he died, but what if he got back to life thanks to the powers he never thought he had?

The night Byung-gyu had visited Hae-in in her dream was actually his pathway toward arising from the dead. However, he had to hide himself from the public, and that included staying away from his fellow hunters who witnessed his death. Byung-gyu mustn't gain any attention, especially when the whole South Korea knew that its only S-Rank healer had died in the hands of the Ant King, and the only person he'd reveal himself to was Sung Jin-woo.

Also imagine if Byung-gyu had gained the ability to teleport himself? Yeah, he'd show up in front of the room where the Ahjin Guild office was located. Jin-woo answered the door and saw a man with a hood and mask on. After convincing the guild master to let him in, Byung-gyu took off his disguise and Jin-woo was in aghast. He explained that he turned out to be a Vessel and was brought back to life because he had a task that must be finished.

Help the successor of the Shadow Monarch.

Every night, Byung-gyu received a vision that could possibly happen in the future. He warned Jin-woo about the Double Dungeon and the Architect and that he must be careful when fighting the statues. Byung-gyu also ended up being with fighting the statues as well, but in his invincible form where not even the statues could notice his presence, unlike Jin-woo, whose powers had been disabled. He became Jin-woo's aid. And even while in a coma, Byung-gyu still fought in his newfound powers even when the hunters had arrived.

Once the battle was over, and with Jin-woo finally becoming the new Shadow Monarch, Byung-gyu remained invincible and kept a close eye on Jin-woo, knowing that dealing with the Architect had taken a toll on his strength. And he was right. Jin-woo had fainted when he got out of the gate, yet Byung-gyu was there to give his strength back whereas everyone else was panicking.

After winning an argument with Jin-woo about taking a rest, Byung-gyu got asked if he wanted to visit Yoon-ho or any of the hunters. He refused. Byung-gyu was not ready to see their reactions yet.

Maybe once the war was over.

Byung-gyu also knew about the battle with the Monarchs in the future. In his vision, he saw the Beast Monarch, Frost Monarch, and the Parasite Monarch coming to the world to wreck havoc and kill the Shadow Monarch. Every dream he had about the future, he told Jin-woo, including the ones that involved death. Byung-gyu got worried about Jin-woo's death in the hands of such powerful beings, though Jin-woo reassured him that he wasn't going to die.

Eventually when that day came, Byung-gyu gave Jin-woo a "shield" that would keep him from dying as long as he was in the same place as him. I'd like to think that Byung-gyu was unable to die when he was using his powers, especially in his invincible form.

Byung-gyu knew about Antares too, though he chose not to tell Jin-woo to let him take a break and do whatever he wanted that didn't involve fighting. "Go. Enjoy your life and hang out with people." "What about you?" "I'll be fine. Focus on yourself, hyung!"

Byung-gyu spent his time watching historical dramas (bonus: he did it with Beru after eventually forgiving the ant for killing him) and reading all about history. He remembered the teacher's license exam he was supposed to take. It cracked his heart, knowing being a teacher should've been his job instead of getting into dangerous situations, but there was nothing Byung-gyu could do.

Antares would be the last stage in his mission. And once that was over, with Jin-woo as the victor, that was when Byung-gyu would think about himself and how he should live his life for good.

#welcome to another rambling about min byung-gyu #gotta create byung-gyu & beru (or w/ shadows) headcanons next time #solo leveling #min byung gyu #solo leveling au: paragon of protection #solo leveling au: ruler and monarch successors

[deeplyridiculouslyinlove]

Okay I finished book 9! And I caved and used my audible credit for book 10, I don’t want to not have one of these books to listen to while driving and baking a ton the next few days.

As always, a collection of my takeaway thoughts is below:

- I despise the way the Aes Sedai are “put in their place” by Logain this book, even if it’s a small piece at the beginning. I know those Aes Sedai are bad, but we don’t see bad men tortured into submission like this and it feels *so* gendered and *so* gross. And then they have one of them being so invigorated by being “taken” sexually by big and strong Logain when she can’t channel?! I have *such* the ick. That could potentially be a fine if eye-rolly plot point in a different version of the series, but within the larger universe that is the books as a whole and RJ’s writing it makes me deeply uncomfortable. It also comes across as sooo regressive - even powerful women really just need a strong man who has all the control, in fact they *want* that! But in a book full of regressive norms like “men are always stronger (even in magic controlled by your mind!!)” I shouldn’t be too surprised…

Relatedly, I hate how obsessed these books are with making Aes Sedai unable to channel. Especially because it’s basically always done by or in service to a male hero. Ick again.

- I wish Elayne had more of a personality - am I just missing it? I know a lot about how she acts (she’s a proper future ruler who also likes to swear, she’s clever and she likes to know how things work, she’s pretty and uses that when she wants something), but I can’t tell when she’s narrating a chapter versus one of the other women because I feel like she doesn’t have any sort of unique voice? And all I know about her emotionally is her obsession with Rand. We don’t even see her particularly upset about her mother being murdered?? And now she’s pregnant so we get another character trait that is about her relationship to other people and not her interiority, love it.

- Sorry to say it but it feels like cleansing the source was a bit easy. Everyone spends *books* saying it’s impossible, and Rand just goes “I’m going to do it” and does it. Does he ever face obstacles or does he succeed in everything he tries?? If doing huge things was this easy for other dragons why is the world broken lmao.

- Why does Rand need six babies? What is RJ’s obsession with multiples? All the babies we’ve heard about are twins.

- I’m predicting now that the show handles the Rand/Aviendha/Elayne/Min situation by doing a poly situation with Rand, Aviendha, and Elayne and letting Min be as queer as she’s being portrayed so far and as independent as she is initially in the books before she loses all her personality. Min’s statement that she sees Rand surrounded by three beautiful women doesn’t necessitate him having a simultaneous romantic relationship with all three, and in the show Rand and Egwene had a relationship so Egwene could be one of the three (or even Lanfear!). It also seems weird to me that Min would describe it that way if she was one of the women herself, and I feel like she has to see their faces at least somewhat in her vision to know they’re “beautiful.”

- The dog and cat gender divide with the Aes Sedai is silly, and not even close to an original enough framing of dogs, cats, or gender to be pressed upon us this frequently.

Overall, book 9 was fine, but I found it a bit slower than the previous books for whatever reason. I’m not sure if there’s just so many named characters I can’t keep track at this point or if I wasn’t super into the character development OR plot development that happened in this book so I felt sort of meh on it. I think I see why folks fall off around here now that I’m in it, but listening via audiobook is so helpful to keeping me going because like, I have to be listening to *something* as I live my life - I couldn’t possibly be alone with my thoughts!

#wheel of time #wot book spoilers #dril reads wot #winters heart

[iwillberunningfromdemons]

Thoughts about 2x02 - Strangers and Friends (show + book spoilers)

Okay, the second episode of today.

First about the thing I liked the least, mostly because it seems very illogical to me: the Seanchan attack on the village Perrin and the Shienarans pass through. I thought at this point in the story only Falme and maybe Tanchico were attacked or taken over by the Seanchan? Another thing I'm confused about is Perrin being able to see the past or something? I'm not sure.

The rest of the episode did not have such faults. Highlights were definitely everything in Tar Valon, especially ELAYNE. I love Elayne. I can't stop thinking about Elayne (I don't remember from the books her ever calling someone a 'subject', but it was pretty funny). Nynaeve is spying on Liandrin and a wedge is driven between her and Egwene. I'm very happy they decided to pass the Accepted test to episode 3, because I want it to last long.

Also there is Mat. No offense to Barney Harris, but the performance of Dónal Finn has really impressed me so far. He has contact with Min, who is in the cage next to him, and in a vision she sees him killing Rand. I'm curious what that is about.

Rand is in Cairhien, working in a sort of mental hospital, where he kills another worker and eventually meets Logain, and he has a fiery relationship with 'Selene'. Really, Lanfear is already giving me the creeps.

Lan and Moiraine have fallen out and now Lan is to be passed over to Alanna. I really feel for him. I guess Moiraine is now heading to Cairhien, but why? To claim her Damodred title and be a snobby lady? (no I don't think so)

Right now, I'll take a pause. Later today I'll watch the third episode (because I can't wait too long, I want the Accepted test and more Elayne!).

#wot on prime #the wheel of time #wot show spoilers #wot book spoilers #wot season 2 #wot s2 #wot 2x02 #strangers and friends #perrin aybara #elayne trakand #nynaeve al'maera #liandrin guirale #egwene al'vere #mat cauthon #dónal finn #min farshaw #rand al'thor #lanfear #logain ablar #lan mandragoran #moiraine damodred #alanna mosvani #wot on prime spoilers #seanchan #ishamael

[pharawee]

So far I have counted 2 kisses they cut from Bed Friend… from trailer when Uea comes to King for some anxious sex after his mom is a straight up monster to him, you can see from the trailer is attacks King with a kiss when he opens the door - cut! And then the director posted a pic of them kissing from todays episode in the car in the rain - cut. We are already not getting enough kisses and I’m not sure why?? Cause cutie pie ZeeNew kissed for like 6 mins? Idk if they’re saving it for the box set but I’m mad. Maybe the kisses aren’t as good or NetJames aren’t as comfortable kissing on camera as others but they already filmed them so why not show us? I’m mad 😭

Hi!

tbh I haven't watched Bed Friend since last week. Not because I don't like it. There's just too many shows on atm and I can't keep up so I had to do some BL triage so I don't burn myself out 😭

(and now I want to rewatch Triage ugh)

Could be the kisses were cut because they didn't fit in with the director's vision (in the same way that ZeeNew's drawn out kisses in Cutie Pie were part of that series' vision). The first kiss especially could have interfered with the more serious and sombre tone of the scene. As for the other kiss, I don't know because I haven't watched the episode yet. But yeah, it always sucks when they use scenes/stills to market/preview a series and then we won't even get to see them in the final cut.

Maybe you're right and they'll add them to the deleted scenes for the dvd boxset (in which case someone will probably upload them to yt or ig, right?). But I don't think the cut content is because of NetJames. They're doing incredible and we know they can kiss.

#ask #bed friend #bed friend the series #i'm sorry i can't really be of more help