#induce angst porn. i hate it.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You

summary: the ascension changed the person Astarion was, or so you believed. you broke up and parted ways after defeating the netherbrain, thinking it was for the best, but when you see him again 6 months later at the reunion, you realize you never truly moved on.

and it seems neither did he.

rating: E

word count: 3.6k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader) (fic wide), shadowheart x you (chapter 1 specifically)

cw: 18+. angst, smut, porn with plot, porn with (some) feelings, ascended astarion, bad breakup, awkwardly avoiding your ex, alcohol induced sex, rebound sex (in the sense that youre trying to forget about your ex but you might have feelings for that other person too), oral sex, fingering, stalking, kidnapping, mild violence.

a/n: i have been working on this for over a month now, i have 2 other chapters also ready BUT im undecided on which ending i want for this, so yall get chapter 1 as a teaser, let me know whatcha think :eyes:

a/n²: this is the start of a long fic (my first one, phew)! i intend to update it weekly-ish, i GREATLY appreciate comments as it helps me test the waters on whats to come with it

read on ao3

or keep reading down below~

I thought maybe we would kiss tonight

Baby will you kiss me already and

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart?

Baby, bang it up inside

-

The ascension was complete. He actually went through with it. 7000 souls, gone. 

Astarion, The Vampire Ascendant.

He convinced you that it’s what was necessary. You thought this would bring him peace. It’s what he wanted. You loved him, and you would’ve gone to the ends of the world for him; in your eyes, after everything he'd been through, it's what he deserved.

“I can hear it at last, how all the lowly creatures of this plane are begging to serve.”

But now that it was done, you couldn’t tell if he was still him. If the vampire before you was still the same you spent that first night in the woods. That same one who admitted to have fallen for you. The same one who thanked you for taking a stand against Araj at Moonrise Towers. And if he wasn’t, who was he now? Did he have anything left from his previous self? And could you still love him if he didn’t?

"The world will stir in fear."

The walk back to camp that day was dreary. As Astarion walked ahead of everyone with his newfound confidence, you were dragging your feet behind the rest of your party. The weight of what you had done, slowly setting in. Your friends asked about your well-being and you reassure them all that everything’s fine! It was just a big day! And you simply couldn’t wait to finally rest. You didn’t have the heart to admit that you were regretting what you had encouraged Astarion to do.

Back at the Elfsong, you wave to your companions an early good night as you are heading to bed, before Astarion pulls you aside.

“My consort, we are so close to our triumph, I can almost taste it.” Even his tone was different. What you used to qualify as theatrical was now leaning towards dramatical.

You freeze and look at him dead in his eyes. Every part of you is looking for any proof at all that he was still himself. After all, you had no way to know if the 7007 souls sacrificed also included his own.

“Please don’t touch me,” your voice comes out colder than intended.

“Why so cold, dearest?”

You pull away from his grasp, “Just, what in the Hells happened to you in there?” The words come out of their own, tainted with sadness.

“Why, I became a better version of myself. The very best, dare I say. And I have no one else but you to thank for it.”

You scoff as you step back, not believing this new attitude he gained along with his ascension. “Whatever happened in there killed the Astarion I knew.”

“Good,” he lifts his chin in disdain, “he was weak and pathetic.”

“NO!” you almost shout, your voice cracking. “He was healing. I loved him. Whoever you are now embodies everything you hated in Cazador.” Each word of your last sentence is said with more venom than the last.

His eyes narrow with anger, “How DARE you speak his name?”

He steps towards you as a threat, and for a moment you see the violence in his eyes, but you stand your ground, not breaking eye contact.

“We’ll defeat the Netherbrain together. But after that, I want nothing to do with you.” you say, your anger matching his.

“So be it. If you’re too stupid to see what you’re losing, then you never deserved to have it in the first place.”

You give him one last angry look before walking to your bed, muttering to yourself as you feel tears swelling up. 

“Letting you go through with that ritual was a mistake.”

—

You follow through with your promise. With the Netherbrain gone and your tadpoles vanished, nothing kept you together anymore. You parted ways with all your companions, going out on your own, wherever your next adventure guided you. Finally, a normal life, or something closer to it, anyway. You did miss most of them, for what it’s worth; you considered them your family. You often wondered how Wyll and Karlach were faring in the Hells, and how Lae’zel’s quest to take down Vlaakith was going; you even considered offering your help at one point, but after ending things with Astarion, you needed to be alone. The breakup hit you harder than you expected, it left your heart with a void. He looked happy following his ascension, so why couldn’t you be happy for him? Why was this so hard on you? It’s not something you had ever experienced in your past relationships, usually able to move to the next one rather quickly. You didn’t naturally get attached to people, you used to think that nothing lasts forever, and relationships weren’t an exception. This damned vampire proved to you once again that you were right, although you wished for once you weren’t. He took up all your thoughts, and you had to do something to wash him away.

You occupied your time best by helping people in need, taking bounties left and right, roaming the lands and fighting monsters. Anything that would help keep your mind busy. It did work for some time, and as long as you were actively doing something, focused on the task at hand, but the moment the night set in and you laid to rest, you were back at square one. 

You felt guilty about Astarion’s ascension. 

It had been your one and only mistake. You let yourself be blinded by the rose-coloured glasses of your love for him, and although you meant well, you’re very conscious of the damage this decision had on him and potentially the city, but also the 7000 souls sacrificed in the process. Granted, they were already spawns and there was no way to save them from this fate, they could’ve at least have had a chance at living in the Underdark. Yes, you had saved the city – damages aside – lifted a curse, freed everyone and yourself from the Absolute, defeated the chosens of the Dead Three, but your mind always drifted to Astarion’s fate. What if you had stopped him? Surely, your life would be different now. You would be roaming the streets with him, probably. Maybe living together in the Underdark. He would’ve stayed himself. You would’ve been… happier.

When you receive Withers’ invitation to the reunion, it’s the first time in months you’re actually happy, excited even, to see your friends at long last, but also anxious. Your mind drifts to the vampire you used to love. Would he show up? Would he have changed at all? How has he been? 

Did he still think about you, too?

Looking forward to the night, you treat yourself out to a nice outfit from the local seamstress. You settle on a simple, yet elegant, black long dress with an open back. The summer night is nice and fresh ; you’re glad you went for a long sleeved dress. Your hair, which you decided to let down, also partially covers your exposed back, covering you from the breeze. You reach your old campsite to find out you’re the last to arrive, as you see all your friends already mingling. You decide to talk to Shadowheart first, as she was the one you missed the most, as you had grown particularly closer to her during your adventure. In another life, you would’ve been together, you think. You felt bad about not contacting her sooner, but her joy upon seeing you washes away all guilt. She greets you with a smile and a large embrace.

“Come here you! Gods, I missed you!”

You hold her tight, enjoying her strong hug. 

“Tell me everything! How have you been?”

“Oh you know, a few killings here and there, little shenanigans all around, I’m sure whatever you have to share is much more interesting.” You wish you could say something different, but your adventures really had been that bland. 

She rolls her eyes playfully at your deflection, “And how have you been feeling?”

“Greaaat, every day is a new adventure for me to discover.” You give a poor excuse for a laugh as an attempt to convince her.

She tilts her head forward and raises her eyebrow at you. She knew you better than you gave her credit for. “You know what I meant.” Her gaze points to the side behind you and you give a quick glance to see Astarion disdainfully looking at his surroundings, a silver cup in hand.

You sigh as you turn back to her, the facade falling at once. “I try not to think about it. I… hate what he became, but I feel guilty about it. I did take part in it, I could’ve stopped it, but I didn’t.” You cross your arms, recollecting your thoughts. “I still miss him nonetheless and it’s… frustrating. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Seeing him again so soon is more difficult than I originally thought.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I was actually trying to avoid him,” you confess.

“And you think that's healthy?”

“It's the only way I'll be able to move on.”

“And how’s that been going?”

“I–” You’re unable to answer her, the truth being that it was going horribly.

She grabs you by your shoulders, bringing your attention back to her, “Hey, you know if you need anything, I’ll be there for you.” You smile, sheepishly, as she brushes your hair behind your ear, softly cupping your cheek. “And if you’re looking for some company to take your mind off of a certain vampire, well, I would be glad to offer mine.”

You get lost in her eyes, with her hand soft and warm against your skin. Her invitation is tempting, and your gaze falls on her lips as you speak up.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Come meet me when the party's over.” She smiles back, before walking away. 

You spend the rest of the night catching up with all your friends, always keeping an eye on Astarion, but never daring to approach him.

As the night settles down, you bid your close friends farewell and sneak out two bottles of wine to share with Shadowheart as she walks you to the inn she’d been staying at. The road is peaceful, and you reminisce about the past with the cleric, indulging in the leftover drinks you stole from the party. When you finally reach the inn, you're both a giggling and stumbling mess, empty bottles of wine still in hand as you enter her room.

As she closes the door behind her, you hear some patrons through the walls yell at you to shut up – it was late and your entrance had been pretty noisy – and you mockingly hush your friend, pressing a finger on her lips.

“Shadoooow, shhhhh” you whisper, your speech slurred. “You’re bothering people.”

“Oh, I’m bothering people? Care to remind me who stumbled their way up the stairs?” She says, laughing, her cheeks blushed by the alcohol.

“Hey– it’s not my fault their steps are so high and your room is so far,” you pout.

“Oh, my apologies,” she takes on a chivalrous tone. “Does my lady require assistance to reach her bed for the night?” 

You answer, matching her tone. “That would be most welcome, dearest.”

You squeal as she picks you up in her arms with an impressive strength, and carries you to the large bed. You giggle when she drops you off, and she leans over you.

“Is my lady satisfied with my service?”

You fail to keep a straight face when you answer. “Most definitely. Thank you, my liege.”

She smiles back softly before crashing next to you, both of you staring at the ceiling, taking in the first moment of silence of your night. A second later and your mind is already thinking about Astarion and you sigh heavily. Your companion instantly notices your change of mood.

“It’s him again, isn't it?”

You groan, grabbing your hair in frustration. “Was I wrong? To let him go through with that damn ritual? Why does he get to live his best life and I’m still feeling awful abo–”

She cups your cheek and pulls your face close to hers, cutting you off with a kiss. 

“How about we get to work on ‘forgetting about him’, hm?”

You nod slightly as you stare into her eyes, and she grins, her hand curling around your neck before crashing her lips against yours once again. You moan into the kiss, feeling the heat spread across your face and to your chest. Her kisses travel from your jaw down to your neck. She pulls your dress down, gradually exposing your flushed chest, before pulling back to take a good look at you, her own face matching your colour.

“You blush so beautifully.” Her voice is soft like velvet, each word making your heart pounce, as she continues to kiss her way down your navel, eventually discarding your dress on the floor.

You hide your face between your hands, trying to conceal the warmth coming from your cheeks and she comes back up to take your hands in hers, revealing your flustered state.

“You’re too pretty to hide yourself like that,” she reassures you with another kiss. “Let me admire you.”

You struggle to keep eye contact as one of her hands makes its way between your legs, teasing your entrance. Her fingers slide easily between your folds, earning her a moan out of you. She finds your clit and rubs you softly, your entire body twitching in reaction to her touch, and you shut your eyes to focus on the feeling, throwing your head back. Shadowheart takes this chance to trace the curve of your breast with her tongue, closing her mouth on its peak and sucking over it. Her tongue works wonders on you, and you whimper as she lightly bites you. 

“Keep singing for me,” She says between kisses, her voice thick with lust. “I love the sound of your voice.”

Her name on your lips is like a prayer as she ravishes your breast, leaving a few love bites over your chest. She pulls back temporarily to remove her own clothing before climbing back in bed, resting between your legs. You barely manage to raise yourself up when she pushes you back down against the bed.

“Lay down love, and let me take care of you. Just the way you deserve it.”

She throws your legs over her shoulders and kisses the inside of your thighs, leaving more love bites and she makes her way to your cunt. Her tongue finally finds its way between your folds and she laps at your juices, making sure to lick you clean.

“Gods, you taste divine.”

Her hands dig in your thighs as she devours you and you arch your back at the sensation, taking in the feeling of her tongue entering you. Your hips soon follow the movement, wanting more contact, and she takes the hint, moving to your clit to give it the attention it deserves. You whine when she enters you with a finger, and a second one, slowly thrusting into you, as her tongue circles your sensitive bud. Your chest rises higher and faster as your breathing quickens, and she knows you're close. Your eyes are long gone, but she looks up to you, admiring your state before she speaks up.

“Let it go, love. Come for me.”

She sucks once more on your clit, her fingers pushing harder against that sweet spot inside of you. You throw your head back, grabbing the bed sheets at your sides as you scream her name with the remaining air in your lungs and a crashing wave of sensations washes over you. For a moment, your mind goes blank, there's nothing but pure bliss. You want to stay like this forever; finally at peace, content. As you come down from your high, your legs give out and you pant excessively, trying to catch your breath.

You feel the bed shift beside you and open your eyes to see Shadowheart lazily making her way next to you.

“But– what about you?” you ask, breathless and tired.

“You don’t think I enjoyed myself just now?” She laughs and kisses you. “You’re simply adorable.” She cups your cheek, brushing your hair away. 

“Tonight was all about you. Plus, I doubt you'd be able to accomplish anything in the state you're in. You can always make it up to me another night,” she grins and boops your nose, smiling tenderly, before snuggling against you.

You watch her as she drifts to sleep next to you, moments before you cave into your own exhaustion. For the first time in months, you get a good, restful night of sleep.

When morning comes, you’re awakened by a god-awful headache, the consequences of last night’s drinking catching up to you. On the bright side, you find Shadowheart wrapped around you from behind, with her face nuzzled in your neck. You smile and hold on to her arm around your waist, linking your fingers with hers. She awakens soon after and greets you with kisses on your shoulder. You turn around to properly kiss her good morning, but the pain throbbing in your head has you groaning and holding your head instead. She catches on quickly and casts lesser restoration on you, fixing your headache instantly.

“Thank you, doc.” You sigh, content, and turn your head to face her. “How will I ever repay you?”

“I'm sure you'll think of something.”

“Mmh, I might have an idea.”

“Oh?” She chuckles. “Colour me intrigued.”

You flip yourself above her, pinning her down before kissing her lovingly. When you pull away, you find her looking at you with the same lust she had for you the night prior. Her eyes fall on your lips before she speaks again.

“You should follow me on my next adventure. I think it would help you clear things up.”

You pull back, now sitting on her, as you take a moment to answer. “I have a few errands to run, but I might take you up on that offer.”

“I still have the room for a tenday,” she raises herself up on her elbows and gives you a pensive look before continuing her thought. “Let me know when you make up your mind.”

You get dressed up and kiss her goodbye, eager to go back to your own inn to get changed and take a much deserved bath. Since the room you had rented was yours for a few days, you might as well take the chance to shop around while you were there; you were in dire need of new equipment for your next adventures. You spend those days getting upgrades for your gear, and visiting the city. Day after day, something felt odd; you had the weird feeling that you were being watched. Every time, nothing would happen, and neither did you see anyone suspicious, but the feeling never left. One night, as you were making your way to your inn, that feeling only got stronger. The streets weren’t busy per say, but everyone you could see was minding their business, discussing amongst themselves. You pressed ahead to reach the inn faster ; maybe it was all in your head, but just in case your intuition was right, you didn’t want to take any chances.

As you turn the corner to take a shortcut in a back alley, two figures block your path. In the dark of the night, you can’t make out their identities, but their threatening auras are enough to make you back away. You bump into two more imposing shadows, somehow having managed to sneak up behind you, who quickly grab your arms before you can think of escaping. You try to fight against them but their combined forces pin you down almost completely. You were strong, you shouldn’t have had any issue fighting them off, but their strength almost felt… surnatural. If you had learned one thing during your misadventures, it was that when brute strength wasn't an option, you had to aim for their egos.

“Come on, four against one? How's that fair? Are you so weak that you can't face me alone? Let me get the chance to fuck you up, one after the other.” You smile cheekily, your blood running hot, ready for a fight. Karlach would be proud.

The bandits remain unphased by your taunting, with only one of them answering to your banter.

“We won't fight you. Our Master requested that you be brought alive.”

“Aw, poor lil pup can’t do anything without its master's permission,” you say, mocking them, and you laugh disdainfully at them. “You’re fucking pathetic.” 

The figure moves towards you and you’re slapped with a strength that would’ve made you fall to your knees, had you not been held by the two other goons.

“ENOUGH!” Another figure speaks up. “Remember the Master mentioned that she be left unharmed.”

You lift your head back up, your breathing ragged by your furor. “How about you bring me to that master of yours so I can show him who he’s messing with?”

You wish you could take back your words as another figure appears, stepping out from the shadows, this one all too familiar.

“Hello, my sweet.”

-

 Don't want this feeling, I can't afford love

I try to find a reason to pull us apart

It ain't working 'cause you're perfect

And I know that you're worth it

I can't walk away

#my posts #my writing #ao3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #bg3 #ascended astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion romance #astarion #shadowheart x tav #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x you #fanfic #fic: die for you #Spotify

[devouringdevoutly]

Dolus Dulcissimus [G!P]

Summary: She and Bada may not meet eye to eye but their nether regions surely did meet more than that.

Note: No proper backstory for this one because I just really wanted to write smut. Is this my version of your parents selling you off to One Direction in 2015? Maybe. Again, this is a work of fiction and does not reflect real life situations and relationships. Cross posted on ao3. CW: Arranged/Forced Marriage, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Possibly Unrequited Love, One-Sided Relationship, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Hate Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Futanari, G!P/Girl Penis, Belly Bulge, Breeding, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Light Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Lemon, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Like Don't Read. Pairing: Audrey/Bada Language: English Words: 2,678

If someone were to ask Audrey two years ago of what she would've accomplished by now, she would've naively replied with being a professional dancer.

A dancer that almost everyone looked at with respect, fear, and awe as she executed moves that only she could do. 

And sure, it was something she had accomplished within those two years but it also came with a price. 

A price named Bada Lee.

Audrey never saw herself settling down at such a young age, much less getting married to someone like Bada. A renown dancer with impressive skills of her own and Audrey did respect her then prospective wife-to-be. But she was immediately met with the cold hard truth of how overbearing the older woman was behind closed doors, only to find out that it was too late to back out by then. Her family had already promised her to Bada's and she could only desperately try to ruin her image in her now wife's eyes. 

Audrey didn't understand why she had to marry in the first place, why should she marry first in order to secure their legacy and her inheritance? It was such a barbaric custom to even adhere to in the modern world. She was never the prim and proper type of the bunch, always breaking rules and a few Chinas here and there as a child. She was a naughty child that couldn't be kept away from the calls of trouble and was always up to something in their family's compound. Sure, her family had come from money but it wasn't that much to secure in the first place. They lived comfortably enough to pursue their own dreams and build a family without having to marry someone of a higher status to secure their wealth. 

When she was first introduced to Bada, she then clearly understood why her family wanted to marry her off so suddenly. Bada came from a family of more than enough wealth that she could practically buy Audrey if she wanted to. But still… to find out that her family was almost entirely indebted to Bada's, was a different kind of betrayal. 

They had led Audrey to believe that she could afford to pursue her dreams without any restraints only to be met with the unforeseen debts of their businesses. To be able to pursue her dream and the rest of her cousins', her grandparents chose her to be their sacrificial lamb. Justifying it by reasoning that Audrey was the one closest in age and as Bada was also the youngest of her family it was only fitting that Audrey was to be married off to her. 

And so, the then twenty one year old could only agree upon the proposal the first time they had met.

She didn't want to burden her family nor herself. And if using Bada was her way to achieve her dreams then so be it.

But she didn't know that it would've cost her freedom then.

Audrey was then harshly pulled out of her thoughts as quickly as it engulfed her in its depths earlier. 

Bada was saying something to her, she could hear the anguish in Bada's voice yet she couldn't form a coherent thought to even understand the older woman's words with her fucked out state of mind. It was too much, she was practically enclosed with Bada's body hovering her, Bada's sex induced musky scent ravaging her nose, her wrists pinned against the mattress as Bada eagerly fucked her aching cunt. It was just all too much for her already overwhelmed senses. 

Maybe it was a mistake to have abruptly kissed the older woman in an attempt to shut her up as they were in the middle of an argument an hour ago. But the devil on her shoulder had whispered into her ear… of how plump and dry Bada's lips were that she just wanted to wet and kiss them until they bleed. 

"I love you..." Bada confesses in between thrusts. It was at an odd timing but the ache within her was worse than a dull knife sawing back and forth. The perdued gash in her heart now gaping and bleeding excessively once again, it was getting hard to keep at bay. Felt like she just might die in her arms and in between her goddess's legs with how overwhelmed she was with their situation.

"And you… you love me." The older of the two says with so much conviction, that Audrey might just start believing it herself. 

"This is what you want, Audrey. I want this… and you want this too, right?" Bada asks in a tone that's akin to pleading this time. She didn't care if she sounded desperate for the younger woman's admittance. Not when she was mercilessly ramming into that tight sopping pussy of hers.

"Nghhh… Fuck… A-ah… I don't…" Audrey tries to defy Bada's words in between her moans but her scorned wife's relentless thrusts were hindering her to speak coherently. And so all she could do was helplessly pant and moan, basically writhing under Bada's doing. Her face contorted in a way that only a woman who had reached heaven and the above could be able to do so. 

And perhaps Bada did just bring her the heaven that she so desperately sought after in the arms of others that isn't her wife's. And the realization only left a bitter taste in her pretty mouth. She didn't want this, she didn't want Bada in her bed fucking her so ruthlessly; they slept in different rooms for a reason. But her stupid cunt had a mind of its own and said otherwise. She could feel herself getting wetter by the second and each thrust making her want to claw Bada's back even more if the older woman’s hands just weren't restricting her to do so.

Maybe Bada's grandmother was right after all. The old woman, the current matriarch of the Lee clan, had read her deceivingly angelic face so easily. It was a simple glance but she had read her with frightening accuracy when they had met during the first day of her and Bada's formal engagement. The old woman had said it to her almost accusingly, she felt like she was a witch about to be hung then. Unable to deflect the stones of accusations that were thrown at her and she was forced to face right then and there. Maybe she was in fact a capricious girl that only stubbornly pursued the things she couldn't have, solely because she knew that it was an act of defiance against fate itself. 

"You don't what?" Bada asks in between her impetuous thrusts, her hips had a mind of its own at this point.

"You don't love me Audrey? Is that what you're saying? But you sure do love clenching on this cock though?" Bada taunts her wife, clearly trying to be a menace. Purposely trying to get under the skin of the woman under her who was basically devouring her hardened cock. And sure as she was, Audrey clenched tightly around her belittling divulgence. Bada doesn't want to hear anymore of the younger's rejection for her affinity towards her. She had been nothing but caring and nice towards her during their three month engagement and two years of one sided marriage. And for once she wanted to be truly selfish and show Audrey what she was truly made out of—greed, lust, and an insatiable hunger for her wife.

She then lets go of Audrey's now lightly bruised wrists and lifted Audrey's back a bit, supporting her upper body as she fucked into her relentlessly while making sure that Audrey sees how her own cunt feasted on Bada's impressively girthy cock. Her bodily fluids slicked up Bada's veiny rod with how much she was producing. The cock fucking her stupidly in question, was now slathered with a cream like white sticky fluid that was eventually formed with every hurried thrust that the older woman made. Her perky breasts littered with hickeys, jouncing with every wave of Bada's unabating plunge inside of her warm engulfing heat. 

It should be a disgusting scene to even lay her eyes upon but she indulges the site as her wife's cock vividly bulges against the skin of her belly. Bada's cock has basically impaled her, her feet hilted onto the mattress and making sure she propelled her throbbing cock into Audrey's now loose cunt sucking her in without fail. She was practically kissing Audrey's womb with her tip and Audrey could only whine and moan out of euphoria.

She and Bada may not meet eye to eye but their nether regions surely did meet more than that.

Was it truly selfish of her if she wanted to inflict the same pain Audrey had caused her for once? Was it truly cruel of her if she wanted to feel the tight heat of her cunt and savor her warm embrace for a moment at least? Bada thinks to herself as she continues fuck Audrey dumb. 

Bada didn't want to succumb into the angst of it all but she couldn't help it. She couldn't make Audrey fall for her no matter how hard she tried. Was she lacking? Did she do something wrong? Does Audrey hold a grudge against her for her unknown wrongdoing?  

She wanted to yearn for her for far longer, she wanted to take her time, she wanted Audrey to fall for her on her own terms, but all that she had planned were simply thrown out of the window as soon as Audrey's tight wet cunt swallowed her wholly without any resistance earlier. As they had done it sporadically, whenever Audrey drunkenly wanted to release some tension off her tiny body after a long day of dancing. It was never for Bada's taking, it was always Audrey's and Bada happily pleased her like a dog with a bone. 

Truthfully, Bada wanted to kill herself whenever she saw Audrey be happy with another's company that isn't her's. She wanted the ground to devour her whole, whenever Audrey spared another lad or lass with her infectious laughter and smile. She wanted to rip them off the soil that they so confidently stood at, with any makeshift tool for violence she could hold onto at that moment. No one deserved Audrey's sickeningly sweet smile, melodious laughter, nor even her mere mesmerizing gaze. Not even Bada who was her own wife.

She knew that their arrangement wasn't a savory one, it never was but did Audrey really hate her that much? 

She wanted this to be a punishment of some sort. A warning even. Of how she was capable of being as callous and cruel as Audrey was… but it felt like she was the one getting played instead. 

The sound of their skins stridently slapping against each other, and the younger woman's wanton moans and whines just felt more like a sound of victory to her. 

And it made her face the debauched truth, that she still would be on her knees even if the curly haired beauty in front of her did not like her in one bit. She was a slave to her and her desires, a mere porcelain doll to show off to whoever visits them that is. Just like what she had claimed the older woman to be on the first night of their marriage.

And she wholeheartedly accepted it this time. That she was Audrey's marionette and that she'll gladly be manipulated by her time and time again. A simple glance, a simple touch, a simple word of acknowledgement, a simple invitation to her bed, and everything that Audrey had to offer to her even if it was to make her drink her spit,  blood, and cum… Bada made sure that she was at Audrey's beck and call. Audrey held her strings and she gladly danced along with every motion the younger woman did, it was a silent tango of their own. One that she only knew about.

Bada's movements became hard and hurried, slowly losing the rhythm that she had managed to attain a few moments ago. Desperately trying to reach her climax to the point that it made Audrey reach hers, her eyes almost rolling to the back of her beautiful head and her arms flaccidly hanging on Bada's neck as she did. 

Soon enough, Audrey was met with a warm fluid nearly filling her insides full. Bada came so much that she swears she could physically feel her belly be distended. Courtesy of Bada's cock brutishly fucking her insides to habituate her with the profuse amount of seed she had lodged inside of Audrey's canal. Essentially marking her as hers not just from the outside with her graphically bruised and hickeyed skin that one would think a hyena attacked her, but on the inside as well. The younger woman could only instinctively lock her leg around Bada's hips, keeping her wife's cum from dripping entirely onto the already dampened sheets of her coquettishly furnished pink bed. 

She wanted to forget it all, shame and embarrassment permeated throughout her whole body but Bada was the type to not let her evade her so easily. She had expected for them to not even last a few months with her harsh treatment towards the older woman. Yet, here they were, two years into a marriage she never fully agreed upon on, even in its earlier stages of their arrangement. 

Their marriage was a testament to Bada's unyielding desire and devotion to her. And she could only hope that the fire in Bada's heart would soon wane out but to her dismay, it had not. At least not in the two years and three months they've been forcibly paired together.

Audrey could only aimlessly look at the woman on top of her as exhaustion dawns at her. Bada had always held this sort of insanity in the gleam of her eyes. Perhaps it was the sharp look of her already fox-like eyes, her eyebrows furrowed, and jaw clenched harshly whenever she was staring at her too intently. Almost threatening to consume Audrey whole if she could. Her piercing gaze sent off alarming signals, but it was honestly more of a chill that crept up and sent a shiver down to the spine of whomever it was Audrey was talking to. 

Before her pretty mouth could even say anything else. Bada's lips had already been pressed against hers, capturing her in another shape, way, and form. Audrey slumps even further with Bada's lips consuming her, always failing to get away from the older woman's captivity. If Bada truly had her way, then she wouldn't be too surprised if she just decides to hold her hostage one day. Have her tied and restricted to her bed, only to be let out whenever she sees fit. To be bred to the point that Audrey is physically unable to close her legs and clench her cunt, only for it to be left quivering and gaping in thin air. That… she silently fears one day and only hardens her resolve to never fall for the older woman's vulnerability to her.

But Audrey no longer defies when her wife slips her tongue in between her soft slobbered lips. Audrey was too tired to fight back and to assert her dominance in between their ragged breaths. And so she lets Bada take her this time as she sloppily fucks the copious amount of cum she had spilled inside of Audrey's cunt over and over again. Audrey could only feel a mix of her and Bada's cum run down in between her ass, down to the pink floral sheets of her already soiled bed. 

When all is said and done then they will talk but for now… Audrey lays helplessly limp on her bed as Bada greedily seizes hold of her body and mind.  Her wife chanting praises of some sort, almost like a requiem to her now spent and marked body reeking nothing but of sex. 

#bada #bada lee #bada lee smut #bada lee fanfic #audrey #audrey lane #audrey lane-partlow #bebe #jam republic #street woman fighter #street woman fighter 2 #swf #swf2 #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #lemon #ns/fw #wlw ns/fw #queer ns/fw #wlw #sapphic #kpop #dont like dont read #dont like dont interact #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #bada lee x audrey lane #badrey #bada lee x oc

[howdidthisevenhappenanyway]

one thing ive noticed in fandom spaces lately is that people have forgotten that fan fic is also known as transformative fiction because you can just change whatever you want

people keep commenting on how fic authors think this or that and honestly its so funny because while fan fic authors think all kinds of things, they also regularly write things just because its funny or amuses them, or to spite the original author and their work or just to see how a scenario will play out

tagged and untagged crack and crack treated seriously are regularly being discussed in fandom spaces as if theyre a manifesto the author has nailed to the wall of the internet and it's highly amusing but also just a little annoying

if I post the fic where grogu who is fifty years old uses the word kriff in his head is someone going to come after me because he's a baby uwu? its just funny to think the green bean swears. and that r2d2 has a potty mouth and is an adrenaline junky who would drag a kid into an aerial battle just for kicks

its funny to think of mandos with their 'weapons are a part of my religion' fucking everything the sith have planned up because they cant help adopting every baby that stands still for too long, or because they read a romance novel and realised jedi are hot and available partners just waiting to ride off into the sunset with them

its funny to think of the sith plans going awry because some clone picked up a disease, and they all slowly turned into other beings with tenticle dicks because they sleep in cuddle piles

most of the time, people aren't saying that such and such is real and supported by canon. and half the time when they say 'this is supported by canon' they're laughing and talking about how crazy canon is lmao. most of the time these fic trends come about because a bunch of authors were chatting and found something hilarious and several people wanted to take a crack at the concept and obviously then they try to outdo one another with how stupid far they can take the concept. because hyperbole and taking things to extremes is funny

and then someone will inevitably say 'this is canon to me now' because something has become a comfort concept for them, and also because fan fic authors are often great at pulling the tiniest off scene details together to make sure their readers aren't given headaches as their ability to believe the story is pushed to the limit

or like happened in a server I was in yesterday, a bunch of underslept chronically ill or overworked authors will be like 'I just thought of the worst idea' and all of those authors then swarm the idea and band together to make their angsty idea even worse, lmao

just like...remember that while some fan fic authors really do endeavour to remain as close to canon as possible, with maybe one or two degrees difference, a huge amount of the fic you consume, and fic rabbit holes you end up in are started with the words, 'you know what would be really stupid?'

no one thinks yoda is a sith. I promise no one believes that. but you have to admit that the concept is both hilarious and very easy to prove because star wars canon and used-to-be-canon is so broad, and so many people were allowed to just say stuff

just wanted to get this down before I post more stories, and people think I actually think canon dooku loves to eat ass and suck dick like its his job, and that quinlan vos was his sugar baby during the war

...but come on, it's fucking hilarious, and no I haven't read dark disciple, why do you ask?

#fandom wank #i was going to do a masters thesis on kitch sentimentality and the way that fan content creators tweak pre established emotions in fans of #works to bring out a response in their audience #and how it relates to camp and similcra and the post-post-modern art and art audience in a world where capitalism is the main everything #and millenials and gen z took irony put it in a jar with ernestness vodka and cartoons and an energy drink and shook it till it cried #but im not actually smart and it would have been hell #instead I just continue to watch fandom and find it interesting how easy it is to get caught up #I get into theory spirals too #canon affects out headcanons but our trauma informs it as much as the more obvious stuff like our desires and kinks (and the authors' and #and mutuals' kinks which tend to be catching lmao) #anyway #no one's gonna read this anyway #and this isnt a pro-ship argument. im not doing that and i think racism in fandom is toxic as shit and so are a lot of other things #i also have opinions about the way that some privilaged authors will give the very real opression of real minorities to their charecters to #induce angst porn. i hate it. #this is about how people will see things fan fic authors have written and be like 'people are so stupid ugh! canon canon canon...etc' #this isnt a vague post by the way #i dont know anyone well enough to be doing that lmao #also it's not just star wars #thats just the most recent fandom spaces ive been in and i have memory issues so i used the ones that are fresh in my mind #also its not like I had any friends in the hp fandom lmao

[sluttymickey]

Hey, do you have any new fic recs? I read everything on your previous rec lists so I'm here asking for more 🤲

Always! Here's a couple of multi chapter (mostly) WIPs that I'm really loving rn! ❤️❤️

Hold Me Now (by @southside-forever)

Over a year post-canon, Ian and Mickey receive news that has them revisiting the idea of having a child.

(Ian and Mickey becoming the best dads to baby Finn!❤️ Also it's got one of my favourite fic lines ever -- “We’ve all got cracks... Hell, maybe even some chips. But you’re not broken.” Hello??????🥺🤕 )

Ian Gallagher and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Senior Prom (by @mishervellous)

Ian Gallagher has the biggest, most embarrassing, gut-wrenching, boner-inducing, longest-running crush on Mickey Milkovich.

There, he said it.

Mickey Fucking Milkovich.

(In which the road to senior prom for Certified Mickey Milkovich Simp Ian Gallagher is a long, and treacherous one.)

(High School a.u., Ian and Mickey have got the biggest crushes on each other and it's so cute!❤️)

Intro to Quantum Dating (by @spoonfulstar)

Ian and Mickey are in college; Mickey's Ian's RA. Also his weed guy. And also his fuck buddy. Ian wants him to be more though.

(A fwb to lovers college a.u.! Super funny and interesting!❤️)

let the bodies do the talkin' (by @captainjowl)

After combing the greater Chicago area, Mickey comes to the conclusion that trying to find a good fuck is a big pain in the ass, and not in a good way. And now this Gallagher guy, who looks like he cries during sex, keeps showing up at his work and making eyes at him. There’s absolutely no way that soft-looking motherfucker can handle Mickey.

(Spoiler alert: He absolutely can 😌 fwb to lovers a.u. where Ian and Mickey are horny idiots in love. It's super funny and amazingly written💘)

Love is a Ballfield

Ian and Mickey are teammates on a Triple-A baseball club where they bond over their similar life circumstances. Neither of them want to chance ruining their shot at the major leagues so they attempt to keep their feelings for one another at bay.

Until, of course, they can't.

(Baseball a.u., ANGST (my beloved), soft boyfriends in love; Ian's the dorkiest goof (and Mickey loves him for it (among other things 😏))

Ristretto (by @howlinchickhowl)

Ian works the late shift at the Tamp and Grind. It's not what he always planned to be doing at 22, but it's a steady paycheck and he doesn't hate it. When he gains a new colleague with a wicked sense of humor and a sinfully hot boyfriend, he starts to think maybe he should be trying to do more with his life than perfecting his latte art.

(Coffeeshop a.u. (YAY), Ian is a dumbass™, Mickey's grumpy (and cute. and hot (as Ian's noticed. Many times), and there's a lot of flirting <33

since we're alone (by @buffymilkovich and @lethargicmick )

When Mickey Milkovich first got to the University of Michigan he had two goals; play hockey and get drafted into the NHL. But by his junior year, he’s at risk of losing his full ride scholarship because of his slipping grades.

Enter Ian Gallagher, an ambitious and fiery redhead who takes his job as Mickey’s tutor way too seriously and seems determined on making his life a living hell.

Or a College AU where Mickey is a hockey player and Ian is studious as fuck. They are everything the other one hates. Or so they think.

(enemies/fwb to lovers a.u. (my favourite trope 🥰), absolutely obsessed w this one, it's so funny and in character and it's got pretty great O.C's!)

That 'Redhead Babyface/FUCK U-UP' Duality

The absolute last thing Mickey expects when he goes to the bar is to get badgered into doing softcore porn, but the money sounds good. And this redhead won't leave him the fuck alone until he agrees. And maybe partnering up with him for a couple POV shots wouldn't be the worst thing on the planet.

Mickey's smart enough to recognize a slippery slope when he wants to. But he's gotta want to. And tonight the slippery slope is wearing body glitter and short-shorts.

(Slowburn, strangers to lovers a.u., Mickey's the grumpiest, softest mf as he bickers and falls in love w Ian, who is equal parts dorky and hot lol)

These Undomesticated Wilds (by @arrowflier)

When Ian Gallagher left Chicago behind him to traipse aimlessly through the wilderness, he was hoping to find himself--the self that he had lost when his bipolar diagnosis had his family treating him with kid gloves and his boyfriend annoyed with his melancholic acceptance of his new life. He wasn't looking for a rescue.

But when he's injured on a hike through the woods in southern Indiana, a rescue is what he gets. And if he's lucky, he might find a little more than he was looking for.

(Survivalist au! (Ohmygod they were cabinmates!) Amazing chapters so far, so fucking excited for the next ones 🥰)

Under Lock and Key (by @suzy-queued)

Ian gets assigned to the late-night shift in his college’s housing department, providing spare dorm keys to his fellow students. On top of balancing his course load, dating, and work, he has to babysit his obnoxious shift partner.

Mickey needs his job at Kimball University to provide for his siblings and cousins. He can’t get distracted by this new guy he got partnered with. He’s got a bad reputation to uphold, after all.

All-nighters. Microbiology. Silly bets. Baseball cards. Fifteen weeks under lock and key.

(A lil angsty, a whole lotta fluffy, ADORABLE MICKEY, college housing department co-worker&friends to lovers ❤️)

weaver of fate (to your will i won't fold) (by @sunoficarus)

Mickey is a seer who gets paid to track down people's soulmates, and he's damn good at his job. He's a little frustrated when this Ian Gallagher guy tries to cancel his appointment on the same day, saying he has no interest in knowing who his soulmate is. They reach an agreement: he'll perform the reading but won't tell him the results, just write them down and send him on his way. And, well, fuck Mickey's life, huh? 'Cause it turns out he's Ian Gallagher's fucking soulmate.

(Soulmate a.u., but also kinda friends to lovers too. They've got the biggest crushes on each other and are so ADORABLE)

When I'm Lying Next to My Fellow

A story about friendship, love, and a dog named Fox. Also, shapeshifters.

(Shapeshifter/Soulmate a.u, it's got about 2 chapters so far and I'm so curious to see where it goes 👀)

If anybody's interested, I've got my previous rec lists here and here. ❤️

#idk some of the authors' tumblrs so lmk if any of y'all do!❤️ #i just realised there's no way to list out the one shots I've liked unless i scroll through my fic rec tag because they're not in one place #like the WIPs are (in the subscriptions list on ao3) #unless there's a way to go through your kudos? lmk if there is lol #maybe I'll start bookmarking the one shots I liked so they're in one place #asks #anon #hope you have a great day🥰 #fic rec #fic rec list #long post #halfway through this I realised I didn't really need to copy paste the synopsis because like it's right there when you click on the link 😭 #but by then I'd commited to it so 😭 #anyway can't get that readmore thing to work for some reason so hi sorry you had to like multiple times to get past this #shameless #gallavich

[vrishchikawrites]

Scrolling through the MDZS fandom for Quality Work is like an endless soliloquy of 'Y U Do Dis? Y U Do Dat?' and 'HaVe ThEy NoT sUfFeReD eNoUgH?!?!' after seeing some particularly despair-inducing pairings and fanfics,

ho.nest.ly

I hate it. So much trauma porn and angst porn. So much bad characterization. It is a nightmare.

#reader asks #re: fanfics

[yn-rollcall]

Momento Bakugo x Reader: Ch. 13

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Summary: So I was always told to look on the bright side. The bright side is that I’m finally meeting the Number One and Two pro-heroes Deku and Dynamight. The downside is that I was publicly dragged out of my job for a string of robberies that I did not commit and am being detained for questioning.

Length: 3.5k

Warnings: Oral Sex, Food Kink, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Mirror Sex, Quirk Kink (My Hero Academia), Shameless Smut, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Emotional Constipation, Chocolate Syrup, Fluff, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Temperature Play, Hate Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Panty Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Creampie, Bondage, Body Worship, Light Dom/sub, Daddy Kink, Pegging, Public Masturbation, Office Sex, Wank and Tell, Polyamory, So like at the very very end there’s KatsukixReaderxKirishima, But it happens so last minute I don’t feel justified tagging it as one of the main relationships, Constructive Criticism Welcome

A03

Wattpad

A/N: I have a headcanon that Kirishima has a loud, bold style that Bakugo hates. I also headcanon that Bakugo has some tacky shirts but his version of tacky does not correlate with Kirishima's version of tacky. Also slight manga spoilers!

Katsuki POV

Y/N and Denki have officially gone missing. Deku came back saying he couldn't find them and we've searched non-stop for at least a week. I couldn't tell you the exact amount of time since anxiety-induced insomnia makes the days blend together. Even off duty, I've searched all over to try to find any trace of the transport. Tartarus said they never received it. They didn't even reach the halfway checkpoint. I've been looking high and low on every highway, road, alleyway side-street you name it. Anywhere I could possibly find her. No dice. Denki left his phone at his desk and Y/N's phone was right there with it. So we weren't able to call or track them either.

I stopped in front of the agency, panting. My muscles were sore and tense from the constant use. Head foggy with a dull ache beating in the background. As much as I willed them to do more, my eyes barely stayed open and when they did it felt heavy. My body was falling apart. At this point, anyone could tell from the bags under my eyes and attitude that I haven't slept at all.

Whenever the others forced me to go home, I would just end up staring at pictures of Y/N and our texts. It was better than closing my eyes and seeing her betrayed expression. Or seeing her dead. Or imagining her crying, hurt and scared because I'm too incompetent to save her. The last picture of her I took crossed my mind. The one I deleted after I saw that video with Hosei. I can still imagine it clear as day though. Her shy smile in the morning light. My cum all over her. The happy twinkle in her eye. I loved that picture. But now...it felt wrong. It made me feel like I did what that bastard did. Even if she did consent. I sighed, heading inside the agency, hoping the others would have some news about where they went. Given their defeated postures....no news. I headed back to the door until a strong hand gently grabbed my shoulder, holding me back.

"You have to rest man. She wouldn't want this." Eijirou said gently.

Don't fucking hit him. He means well. Don't hit him.

"There's no time to rest." I said, jerking my shoulder out of his hold.

"Katsuki, dude, you're not gonna make it down the street like this. We'll handle it." Eijirou pleaded. "Please just lay down for a bit at least."

I can't sleep. She's crying everytime I close my eyes.

"Really? Then do we have any leads?" I asked, rubbing salt in our wounds.

Eijirou stayed silent, unable to answer. "Listen, I know this isn't ideal but you can't keep going like this." He said finally.

"She wouldn't even BE in this situation if we didn't fuck up. If I- " I breathed in. "I'm gonna find them."

Or else I'm not a hero. Or else I'm fucking useless.

Eijirou sighed and motioned towards a cup. Plain Face got up and handed it to him and he offered the cup to me.

"At least drink something to boost you up." He said, his eyes pleading.

I snatched the cup and chugged down the coffee. I shoved the cup back in his hand and headed towards the door. My body immediately felt relaxed. Way more relaxed than the past few days. Then my feet stumbled. My vision darkened as I steadied myself on a column on the wall. I looked back and realized no one was worried. They set me up.

Then I blacked out.

I woke up later in a dark room with moonlight shining on me. Soft covers were laid across my torso and the gentle hum of background noise filled the silence. I sat up, trying to recognize where I was. There was a punching bag hanging in the room and some posters of Crimson Riot hanging up. He's still the same after all these years. More soft murmurings from what I assume to be a TV floated into the room, gently holding back the silence. I walked out, following the sounds. Eijirou was snoring on the couch, his mouth wide open and drool trailing off the side of his mouth. His snoring faltered for a moment, then continued. I sighed. I walked to the kitchen and took one of the decorative towels and drenched it in water. Then, I headed back over to Shitty Hair's sleeping form. I watched him for a moment before twisting the towel and slapping him with it. He woke up with a start and I hit him again.

"Hey!" He yelled as he scrambled behind the couch.

-Slap-

"Bakugo-!" He yelled backing away, as I leaned over the couch to reach him.

-Slap-

I stopped my assault to glare at him. "What kind of asshole drugs someone!" I slapped him again, chasing him around the living room.

"You were falling apart!" He dodged the towel "You really needed some rest!" He held up his hands open palmed at me.

I let out a maniacal laugh. "Hey! My friend's girlfriend is missing and he's desperately trying to find her! Let's fucking DRUG him so we can waste time!" I yelled, winding up the towel for another round of assault.

"No! My friend is falling apart and I need to be there for him." He pleaded, grabbing the towel. "And I wish he'd tell me how bad he's hurting so we can help him through it."

My grip on the towel loosened slightly as I considered his words.

"I hate watching him work himself to death." He said finally, eyes apologetic.

He stepped close, giving me a hug. I felt my emotions simmer underneath the surface and he squeezed me tighter.

"We're gonna find them. Just...please don't keep it to yourself." He said softly.

I allowed myself to stay in the hug for a moment before shoving him off. He stepped back, a small smile on his goofy face. He took the towel from me and wrung it out in the sink. I sat down on the couch, thoughts swirling in my head. Compared to before, my body felt brand new. I'd hate to admit it but Eijirou was right. I really wasn't doing alright.

Not that that's an excuse to drug me.

"What the fuck did you put in that coffee anyway?" I asked, still salty.

"SleepRite. It's like Melatonin but on steroids." He responded. "Apparently Todoroki has some insomnia going on."

He sat down next to me and we stared at the screen in silence for a bit. Eijirou laid back and put his arms behind his head. The silence didn't feel heavy but there was expectation. Maybe he wanted me to say something. I won't. I can't say anything more than the hug already did. He looked at me, putting his arms down.

"So we've searched all the areas we can think of, what's next." He said to me, giving me an out. Which I gladly took.

I thought back to everything that's happened so far. Denki disappeared while escorting Y/N to Tartarus. Considering how they locked down criminals who go there. Y/N couldn't have overpowered them. And even if she was able to use her quirk, Denki's could just zap her unconscious. Hosei has a mind quirk but I can't imagine he'd be able to get the names of everyone else on the transport in such a short period of time. Unless he had someone on the inside.

I looked at Eijirou. "You thought Deku was acting kind of strange leading up to the arrest right?"

"Yea, really..aggressive. I guess whatever the store owners said, really set him off." He mused.

"He also randomly gave us the day off after interviewing the store owners. And that guy is a workaholic. Although he seemed pretty damn sorry after we showed him the evidence." I murmured.

Could Deku be helping them..?

But that wouldn't make sense. Deku always searched with at least one of us around. He hasn't been limiting the search in any capacity and seems to be running himself into the ground like the rest of us. He could be throwing us off their scent. But that also could have easily been accomplished by making Deku disappear as well. So why keep such an obvious suspect around? What's the point of that? We've also been keeping track of all the places we've searched so far, so avoiding any area would become increasingly obvious. We've even reached out to other heroes in different areas to keep an eye out. Given them access to the CCTVs in the area and everything. Which means even more eyes are potentially watching our every move. If Deku was being controlled he'd want to limit that right? And Hosei's limit is three people as far as we know. I can't imagine such a small time loser having such a huge network.

I shook my head, clearing it of that line of reasoning. Even if Deku is compromised, I don't have anything to go on. There has to be something a little more clear to pursue. Then I remembered the pictures. How could I not focus on the pictures? Hosei and Y/N posed with the owners. Maybe instead of staking out the place, they were working together.

"Wait." Eijirou said, his eyes widening, realizing. "The photos.." He looked at me and we nodded.

"Tomorrow first thing, we hunt down those bastards to give us info." I said, feeling motivated

He smiled, hardening his fist. "Sounds good to me!"

I briefly consider that this could be the plan. Getting Tartarus involved in ANYTHING means a lot of time and a lot of people. Not to mention the vehicle and personnel tracking that goes in once the villain is confirmed to be Tartarus-bound. So it's weird that THIS is the only trail we can move forward on. I narrowed my eyes at Eijirou. Could he be in on this? Deku would be the obvious choice because of his leadership role, access and status. Which means a smarter move would be to go after someone else. Someone no one suspects. He looked at me, tilting his head, looking like the definition of an empty-headed puppy.

Nah. He may be my best friend but he's not a good pawn in this sort of situation.

With no sort of leadership role, he'd have to go out of his way to try to steer us instead of going along like he usually does. And that sort of change would be way too obvious. Unless he's there to just observe our movements and report them? But then what's the endgame? He's already got Y/N and possibly- no for certain added Denki to the mix. Hosei couldn't possibly keep Denki under wraps without his quirk. Why not force Denki to sleep for a while and then abandon the scene? Eijirou stared at me as I started thinking in cycles over what could be the bigger plot. He reached out, grabbing my shirt. I looked at him with a quirked brow before he roughly hauled me over his shoulders. Then he dragged me to his room and threw me on the bed from the doorway. I recovered, managing to land on my feet and glared at him.

"Tonight though, we have to rest so we can stay sharp." He said cheerily before shutting the door.

I plopped down on the bed, grumbling about his obsession with taking care of me. I thought a little more before realizing my eyes were getting heavy. And the bed was comfortable and warm. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep. Sunlight filtered through the curtains painting a glowing stripe across my left eye. I groaned and sat up, stretching. My body felt light and limber. Thoughts seemed to have a technicolor clarity as I planned how the investigation was going to go. And I had no nightmares. I got out of bed, rifling through Eijirou's drawer to put on a shirt that wasn't god awful. I found a shirt then headed into the shower. Once I was clean, I pulled his shirt on and a pair of his sweatpants before heading out into the living room. Eijirou was there working out in the corner doing pushups. He stood up, sweat running down his brow, his hair floppy before the usual gel. His long hair was in a ponytail and I briefly wondered if he ever considered doing a photoshoot for a men's magazine.

"Good morning!" He said with a wide smile on his face. "How'd you sleep?"

I smirked back against my will, unable to stop myself from getting caught in his energy. "Doesn't matter. Let's interview those shopkeepers." I said while walking into the kitchen and grabbing a cup.

"Sure!" He said, wiping the sweat with his shirt. "Who else are we bringing?"

"No one. Just us." I said, filling my cup with water.

"You sure? What if we need backup?" He asked.

"We can handle it. Besides.." I trailed off drinking from my cup.

I'm fairly certain Eijirou isn't compromised.

"You're the only one I trust right now." I said, avoiding eye contact. I glanced over to see him smiling and I looked away, grimacing. Then a thought popped into my head. "Actually there is one other person who might be a great backup."

After about an hour, we rolled up to the shop in Eijirou's car. All of us climbed out of the car to question the owners. We walked in, the bell chiming. The cashier greeted us and we asked if we could speak to the owner. He walked to the back and an older gentleman with thinning hair walked out. He paused when he saw us then settled back into a smile.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" He said with a plastered on smile.

"We wanted to ask about your relationship with Hosei." I said while showing him a screenshot of him posing with Hosei.

The old man looks at the picture, then glanced at us, dropping his smile. Then smoke quickly filled the room.

"Bakugo we gotta-" He coughed, activating his quirk.

"Nope, our backup's got it." I said waltzing outside.

Once we walked out of the smoke, we saw Auntie with the old guy frozen in front of her. Even in her cute old lady clothes she looked every bit the mafia boss she used to be. Her eyes were sharp and stance was unyielding. Her icy glare made this hot summer day at least 10 degrees colder as she stared at the man with apparent disdain.

"Takuma. What sort of mess have you gotten into." She said, her voice laced with disappointment.

"My lady..." Takuma said, his voice shaking.

She clicked her tongue and Takuma sunk to his knees. She leaned down cupping his chin, her eyes cold.

"You've hurt a dear girl of mine, Takuma." Her voice, low and sharp. "I suggest you start talking."

Takuma's lips pressed into a thin line. After a few moments he sighed.

"It's All For One." He whispered.

Eijirou, Auntie and I froze. Memories of the darkest part of my life flashed before my eyes. Being kidnapped by the league. All Might's final fight. The destruction. The fall of hero society. All caused by one man. My hands started to sweat as I felt something I haven't felt in a long time. Genuine Fear. I met eyes with Eijirou and saw the same thing. This time we didn't have All Might. We only had us. Auntie recovered and pressed for more information.

"What about All For One." She asked.

"He asked Hosei for a favor. And Hosei forced all of us to help. Or else he'd expose our dealings." He said, his hands shaking.

"Your dealings with All for One or Hosei." I asked, eyes narrowing.

"Hosei." He tried to stop there but Auntie glared at him, causing him to reluctantly continue. " I worked with him a couple years ago to supply items for him. I knew he sold it to villains in the underground but I chose to turn a blind eye. It was a steady income." He said, not meeting Auntie's eyes.

"What about the video?" Auntie asked.

"Hosei asked if he could borrow my shop for an experiment. When I came back, my shop was damaged. Since he paid and replaced it quickly I didn't care to ask what he was testing." He said. "Then Hosei told us to hand that over to the pros when they visited that second time."

That must've been the video evidence that Deku was talking about.

"So you never realized he was doing that to manipulate Y/N." I asked, skeptical.

"Y/N?" Takuma trailed off. "Oh his...girl." He said, the last word a correction.

"Yes. Woman. Y/N." I said with gritted teeth.

"I don't really know much about her. She was quiet." Takuma said dismissively, oddly pissing me off more.

Eijirou put a hand on my shoulder, giving me a warning look. I breathed in, mentally counting to ten. He turned towards the old man.

"What's Hosei's goal?" Eijirou asked.

"I don't know. But he did mention he needed that girl for the plan. I didn't ask any details. The less I knew the more distance between me and All For One." he replied.

It seemed like this was all the information he had. He's a very hands off guy apparently. I only had one more question.

"Did Y/N actually rob anyone? Or was this all a plot to capture her." I asked.

"Just to capture her." He answered matter of factly. "She never robbed anyone for real."

I remembered how broken her voice was when Hosei showed her the video of her "robbing" somewhere. I breathed deeply, mentally counting, trying to get my hands to stop shaking. Eijirou stormed up to Takuma and punched the ground beside him, causing the man to flinch and shake. When he lifted his fist off of the ground, pieces of the asphalt flaked off his hardened fist. He looked at the old man, glaring.

"Choosing to ignore things. And going with the flow...are still choices." He hissed. "Because of you a really great girl is going through her trauma....AGAIN."

So he's been feeling guilty too. I wonder if that's why he was exercising this morning instead of sleeping.

He ran his hands through his hair and walked away. I felt relieved that I wasn't the only one angry about it. Oddly enough, it felt like my anger left with him. Auntie glared at Takuma who continued to avoid eye contact. I walked up to him and cuffed his hands.

"It's a shame I'm acquainted with an absolute coward." Auntie sighed, finally snapping her fingers and releasing him.

I pushed him into the back of my car as he pleaded for some slack since he confessed. It was disgusting to hear and I was happy to slam the door on the noise. Auntie recorded the testimony and we've still got the evidence on Y/N's phone. We should at least be able to detain the other shopkeepers who lied. Eijirou came back shortly after apologizing for storming off.

"He just! Made me so mad! How could he not care?!" He said exasperated.

"So we now know that Y/N is truly innocent and that Hosei is involved in a much bigger scheme than we thought." Auntie said, analyzing the information.

"If All for One is involved, it's not good. At all." I said, wondering why Y/N was needed.

Does he want her quirk? It's a good quirk but I can't imagine he doesn't already have something like it."

Eijirou's phone rang and he picked it up.

"Hey-" He started then stopped.

Muted yelling could be heard from the phone as his eyes widened.

"We're on our way." He said then hung up. He looked at me, eyes panicked. "There's an attack downtown. An entire block is already completely destroyed."

We all rushed into the car and sped off towards the city. We made a brief stop at the agency to drop Auntie and Takuma off before speeding towards the battle zone. We messily parked and scrambled out of the car. We both looked onto a devastating scene. Buildings were collapsed and there were unconscious people everywhere. Heroes were scrambling to both subdue the villains and get the people to safety. I turned towards where the chaos was originating, ready to fight when my heart stopped.

The villains wore masks and entirely different suits but I'd know those movements. I'd know their figures anywhere. One I've fought and trained beside for practically my whole career and the other I've memorized the moment I saw it. I saw debris float up as the villain in the white mask turned towards me. I felt the fight leave me.

"Y/N..." I whispered.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski #mha smut #mha #momento

[rpmemesbyarat]

As someone in the Marvel RPC, I see a lot of “my character was kidnapped/created in a lab and turned into the perfect weapon” or “my character was captured by scientists because she was an alien/supernatural creature/etc and they wanted to study her” and inevitably, both involve a lot of gratutitous torture. The key word being “gratuitous”. Either due to wanting drama or being misinformed by popular media depictions of such things (Bucky Barnes, Laura Kinney, etc) the general assumption of fandom seems to be that scientists are basically sadists and that “experiments” are little more than exercises in how to cause their character the most pain possible. The thing is though, a lot of the reasoning for all this is. . . bad. And while canon ---be it Marvel or something else-- may do that, I would also like to discuss more realistic options and point out a few general mistaken assumptions or things people don’t tend to think of. - If a bunch of scientists are trying to create an augmented supersoldier, “perfect life form”, or whatever, that’s not an experiment, that’s a PROJECT. There is a big difference between the two. - Who/what is your character being created or augmented to fight? No one is gonna spend the time/money/effort to make a supersoldier just to have one around for fun. The enemy they are supposed to face or job they are supposed to do is going to influence EVERYTHING about the abilities they’re given and how they are “designed” not to mention how much independent thinking it’s practical to give them. For instance, for some jobs, being able to think and make decisions on their own will be a must, and that’s a risk. For others, there’s really no need to leave their free will intact if you can avoid it. Someone being “built” for espionage will be much different than someone being designed as a living tank. Likewise if someone is going to be sent into a desert environment versus expected to go for long periods underwater, and so on. Knowing what they’re designed to be going up against is CRUCIAL. - Why are living weapons the best option to fight this thing? Because generally speaking, there can be a lot more disadvantages to those than to guns and guided missiles and androids and shit. What about this enemy required a lving sentient supersoldier instead? - If a specimen is rare or valuable, it’s unlikely that it’s going to be dissected or otherwise treated in a way that will deliberately damage it. Your characters might FEAR that if they’re found the men in white coats might “cut them up” but this is actually unlikely. If scientists are trying to learn about something and it’s not a thing they can easily replace, they’re going to try to do so WITHOUT destroying or damaging it. The reason that real-life lab animals are treated so callously is because there’s lots of them, and we already know a lot about how they all work. When a scientist dissects a lab mouse, they’re not losing anything when it dies. If the first alien on Earth dies, or some super-soldier they worked really hard to create dies, they’re losing either a lot of potential information that can’t be gained anywhere else, or something they worked really hard to create and won’t be able to do again without a lot of time or effort. They are going to want to avoid that, and in this age of ultrasounds, X-Rays, and other non-invasive technology, that’s very easily done, especially in a setting where they probably have higher level tech than the real world if they’re creating super-soldiers and such in the first place. And they definitely have NO REASON to want to cut a specimen up ALIVE. - If their goal is to study a person or creature, such as the aforementioned alien, or a mermaid, or whatever else, they actually will probably want to avoid causing it stress. Stress causes behavioral changes as well as physiological ones, and if this is a never-before-seen or rarely-examined species/person, scientists will want to examine them in their default state first. Once they’ve learned everything they can about them in their “normal” state, then, yes, they may begin to deliberately induce stress to study what changes. However, they’re still likely to try to avoid damaging the specimen or inducing ill-health in it (which prolonged and/or serious stress can do) Again, the reason that regular lab animals get treated like their lives don’t matter is because THEY DON’T. Lab mice, dogs, etc., are just models for which to study humans most of the time and have well-documented behavior and physiology, they’re not rare or unknown creatures. So the approach is completely different. A literal or figurative unicorn would not be treated like that. - Likewise, if this specimen is something that was created (or augmented from an existing animal/person) it’s unlikely that the scientists are going to torture them, either for fun or through painful “tests”. Again, they don’t want to damage their hard work, either through physically wrecking them or through reducing them to a useless traumatized heap. It doesn’t matter if the scientists are mean cruel people without a bit of kindness or empathy, it’s impractical. If this being was created for a purpose, fucking it up (or turning it against you) defeats that purpose. And whoever is funding them isn’t going to be happy about that. And if whoever is funding them is the one who wanted to torture this creature/person. . . why do they need it to be specially modified or whatever? That really doesn’t make much sense, especially considering it’s virtually guaranteeing that this thing you have GIVEN SUPER POWERS TO is going to want to murder you. - Sure, it’s possible that one person on the staff might just personally be a sadistic bully or have a grudge against the character/creation even when none of the others do, like Kimura with Laura Kinney, but in all likelihood they’d be found out and fired. “But they take pains to hide it and erase security footage and--” Okay, if you really really want that, you can find a way to do it. Just know it’s not at all going to be acceptable procedure even in the most illegal of operations, not because it’s morally wrong but because it fucks with the product. And I would also ask yourself---if your character is already a lab rat, do they need to be tortured as well? Why? What does that add? Does it not feel “traumatic” or “dark” enough that they, a presumably sentient being, is already owned and imprisoned and kept from anything approaching a normal life? Why is that not “bad enough” to you that their story needs over-the-top torture as well? I’m not saying you can’t do it. I’m saying to think about why you’re doing it. Because a lot of times, in my experience, it basically comes down to cheap angst and sympathy points, often at the expense of, as discussed, logic. - “But they want to make them loyal out of fear!” Okay. That works only up until they get an opportunity to escape. Because if they’re afraid, they’ll take that chance. It’s true they might be too afraid to even try---that’s the case for many abuse victims---but I’m not sure that an organization wants to gamble that will be the case and risk losing their valuable asset the moment send asset is put in the field. And, again, risk the damage to them. This one is doable, you just have to be logical about it and think from the perspective of the people running things, not from the perspective of “what’s the most dramatic?” - “But it’s to brainwash them!” Brainwashing does not mean constant egregious torture that just somehow magically produces sudden loyalty one day. I know that tons of movies and comics have showed you this, but torture does NOT brainwash people. It actually makes people MORE resistant and hateful towards the people and group doing it. People under torture may confess to anything to make it stop, but that’s a short-term compliance and far from actually altering their minds in any way. It most certainly does not render them into obedient loyal sheep; typically the reverse, in fact. If you want to read more about this misconception and what the reality is, I’d check out these posts HERE and HERE and HERE which go much more in-depth and cite real-life sources. If you would like to read more about actual brainwashing, HERE and HERE . - “The torture is necessary for their training!” Again, this works to a point, but most people take it absurdly far in their depictions. Training is to build a person up; if it grievously injures or mentally traumatizes them, that’s counter-productive, as it decreases their usefulness. Being pointlessly cruel to your “living weapon” is just counter-productive. Training can certainly still be intense, and even un-ethically or dangerously so, but if it crosses into just coming up with ridiculously over-the-top ways to make the character suffer, it’s too OTT and clearly for angst-fuel, and most readers will probably roll their eyes because it’s just ridiculous after a certain point. Here are some good articles from SPRINGHOLE.NET relevant to this topic: Things To Know If Your Character Will Be Augmented Or Experimented Upon Things About Training & Teaching Writers Need To Know Tips For Writing Dark Stories, Settings, & Characters Pointlessly Edgy Tropes To Reconsider Using Basic Tips To Create Better Characters With Tragic & Traumatic Backstories Note that this is not to say that your lab rat character cannot have been mistreated, abused, or otherwise traumatized by their situation. Indeed, it would be unrealistic if they were NOT, since treating a sentient being as a tool under the control of others and having them commit violence, even if they do so “willingly” because they don’t know any better, is an inherently traumatic thing. But because it’s inherently traumatic, the unrealistic torture porn is just that much more unnecessary and frankly kind of silly. It’s also lazy, and the ways that many writers go about make no actual sense, as has been discussed. Going back to examples from Marvel, a favorite little-known X-Men character of mine is Darkstar, aka Laynia Petrovna. Laynia and her twin brother Nicolai were mutants born in the USSR. They were taken away by the state at birth, and raised by government scientist Professor Phobos in a “school” (read: facility) for super-soldiers. They were trained in combat and taught to be loyal to the USSR above all else. They were also told that their parents had abandoned them (when in fact their mother died in childbirth, and their father was told they had died too) and were NOT told that they were siblings, instead being given different surnames so that their familial loyalty would not supersede their loyalty to the Soviet Union. It wasn’t until they were adults and discovered their bio-father during a mission that they ever found out they were related. Yet, despite this, and despite occasionally joining superhero teams in the USA (Champions) or aiding the X-Men (X-Corps), Laynia has remained loyal to her country first, though she has often turned her back on its government (though she has returned to serving it now that the USSR is no more) What I really like about Laynia’s backstory is how different it is from most “I was raised as a weapon” stories in that it lacks overt abuse or trauma. She seems to have been treated just fine, she was never tortured, there was never shown to be any needlessly brutal training or treatment of her and the others, etc. She was raised to be a loyal servant to the state, and she was treated in a way that would actually facilitate that, and IT WORKED. So many scientists/trainers/etc in fiction seem to think it’s a great idea to treat your living weapon in ridiculously over-the-top violent, abusive ways for no real reason (except, of course, THE DRAMAZ) and will often be portrayed as insanely sadistic towards their pet projects…even though that’s obviously the LAST thing you would want to do with a valuable asset that you wanted to be loyal to you and have no desire to escape or turn sides. And as I said, it WORKS with Laynia. One of her biggest and most constant struggles FROM THE START is her loyalty to her country, versus her own conscience when she’s asked to do things she finds questionable. She also finds out again and again that she’s been lied to or manipulated by the people in charge of her, and sometimes she’ll defect, but she always ends up back again. And while she’s angry at the things that government asks her to do to others, or has done to others, she never really questions what was done to her. We never see her actually being like “holy shit, I was kidnapped and brainwashed and exploited and I’m really fucking angry about this!” like so many characters in similar situations realize (and often very quickly despite supposed brainwashing; even when still “loyal” they’re usually portrayed as hating their captors) And you know why? Because, again, what was done to her WORKED. Like she has a MOMENT in the issue where she finds out her real history and vows she won’t blindly follow a government ever again, but…she still sticks with the USSR, then Russian, government. She may not be “blindly” following, but she doesn’t seem ever able to leave them for long either. And her brother Nicolai/Vanguard strays even less than she does. And the writers never focus much on this. There’s never been a story that focuses on Laynia’s mindset or giving her a journey that helps her grow in any way or even just examines all this. Partly I think that’s because she’s so minor and has never had a story IN GENERAL that focuses on her. Partly I think it’s because writers just aren’t INTERESTED in a story like hers UNLESS it involves all the dramatic grimdark “tortured test subject” cliches, and they assume readers aren’t either. But I think this does a disservice to readers. One of my pet peeves, perhaps my MAJOR and BIGGEST one, about abuse in fiction is that it is ALWAYS portrayed as BLATANT and EXTREME, committed by people who are OBVIOUSLY monsters and who act like said monsters 24/7. They might get a shallow charming veneer to fool people, but the victim and audience both know that under that they’re un-nuanced, two-dimensional demons. And some abusers are like that. Some abuse is super extreme. But lots of abusers are much more nuanced, and lots of abuse is far for subtle. If only the most extreme types of abuse and abuser are portrayed, that’s all people learn to recognize “real abuse” as being. And real-life victims of abuse already have enough problems feeling that they weren’t “really abused” or “abused enough” to qualify. So I think stories like Laynia’s are important, and they’re worth exploring. They don’t treat abuse as torture porn, something to lingeringly emphasize to the audience in every gory detail for sheer shock value even when it makes NO SENSE for what the abuser is trying to accomplish. Instead, her story makes sense for what the government and its scientists employees were trying to do, and it has an accordingly realistic effect on her that manifests in a far less subtle but no less meaningful way than dramatic “media portrayals of PTSD” cliches. And it’s a story I’d be interested in seeing more of and finally unpacking fully, if any writer ever steps up to the plate ready to treat it with the sensitivity it deserves. Not every story of this sort needs to be like Laynia’s. But not every story of this type needs to be like Logan’s either. Figure out what works best for your character, question why you want it and what purpose it serves, and just make it make sense.

#rp advice #writeblr #OC tips #writing tips #writing tip #backstory tips

[saezutte]

yuletide letter 2020

Dear Yuletide Writer, 

Oh, hello again. I didn’t see you there.

This year, I have transcended earthly desires and struggled to find any fandoms to request. I want nothing. I wish my cat was nominated as a Yuletide fandom so we could all write stories about her life. 

Nonetheless, I have some small requests!!!! I believe you can make me happy in ways I’ve never been happy before. I trust you. Happy end of 2020, the cursed year, I hope you are blessed with rest. 

My AO3: saezutte

My public twitter: juncassis

My tumblr: here but I do not use tumblr much anymore, sorry.

Do Not Wants

[note: I have no actual triggers, nothing you can write for me will make me any more depressed or anxious than I already am]

Death (of major/important/beloved characters)

Suicide attempts, self-harm

Rape (outright; OK with dub con, manipulation, noncon short of violent-rape-for-violence-only)

Eating disorders, body shaming

Angst without a happy ending, really too much angst at all

Established relationship

Cheating

Actual Unrequited Feelings

Pregnancy (the actual process; breeding kink is fine)

Scat or watersports

Hard BDSM or any kink complicated enough that the characters would have to discuss it ahead of time

Homophobia as a plot device

Excessive attention to identity or politics, sometimes known as “issue fic”

Note on AUs: I am ok with the usual popular AU tropes but I do not want them combined, e.g. A/B/O is fine and coffeeshop is fine, but I don’t want an omega barista getting his scent all over the lattes he makes for some alpha lawyer who comes in every morning. (Ridiculous example, but you get the point.) For AU/modern settings of fandoms with magic, I often like it when the magic is still there in the AU setting. I also like AUs which maintain the general outlines of the character’s relationships, like if the characters are childhood friends in canon, I like to keep that intact.

General preferences:

I am a pretty basic bitch when it comes to fanfic: I like it when two clueless boys pine for each other through some shenanigans and then lock eyes/lips/dicks.

If you fed a neural net every fanfic written in Stargate Atlantis fandom between 2005 and 2010, the result would probably be some nonsense I’d enjoy.

I love many tropes. Tropes! Bed-sharing. Sharing an umbrella. WASHING EACH OTHER’S HAIR? Confessions where they are having an argument and then one of them yells “Because I love you!”

I love situations where characters are forced to spend time in close proximity and find themselves with feelings.

I love fakeness: fake dating, fake marriage, arranged marriage, marriage of convenience, fake lust induced by sex pollen or heats, aliens make them have sex, whatever.

I love porn, if you want to just write me some quick porn, that’s great. I do prefer (per the established relationship DNW above) that it be first time or get together porn. I know that can make it hard to just write porn, but I don’t need much to be convinced of sex.

Nirvana in Fire (TV)

Requested characters: Mei Changsu, Xiao Jingyan

Note: I also love Lin Chen so if you want to write some MCS/LC or LC/Fei Liu or LC/MCS/JINGYAN OT3??? go for it. I am also a Nihuang/Xia Dong shipper so if you want to put that in… somehow… my gay little heart would be happy. I also like Nihuang/MCS/XJY or MNH/MCS + MCS/XJY but I’d like the focus on the men in that case!

I watched this show because someone recommended this show to me as, like, Chinese Game of Thrones but good. I think it’s genuinely one of the best TV shows I’ve ever seen. I love plots and revenge and good people doing bad things for justice. Even the ending is good for me though obviously it left me unsatisfied on several points.

I am deeply into sickly doomed genius MCS and every time he got even more deeply ill, I fell deeper in love. Every time he coughs up blood, my heart would race. I love his terrible schemes and stupid self-sacrificing choices. I find watching this show very soothing because I knew he would always come out on top in his schemes. I trust him. I love handsome clueless Jingyan and how he’s just so good (it’s terrible.) I love his mom and how much he cares for her. I love him but he is useless, he needs his Xiao Shu and I need fanfic to restore him to him.

Note: So my limited research on this says that male/male sex practices were accepted and well-known in this time period in history, so I really don’t want them thinking “oh no what are these weird gay feelings.” There are other barriers to them being together, like a ruler or official being overly attached to one person was considered very bad. I am also a big supporter of the socially-approved polygamy of this time period, so I don’t need Jingyan to refuse to sleep with his wife or something out of loyalty to MCS—he has to do it! Or all their plans are ruined! And he can enjoy spending time with her or the concubines without affecting his feelings for MCS—you could explore that complexity in fic if you like.Prompts:

Mei Changsu isn’t dead, he’s hiding again, Jingyan searches for him

They start having sex during the series, the ending is averted [somehow]

Post-canon, MCS is alive and Jingyan hides him in the palace with his consort/concubines to keep him on as an advisor without anyone objecting

omega verse where MCS was an alpha before he “died" but an omega after he came back.

AU where male/male marriage is customary (maybe aristocratic men are expected to have one male and one female consort?) and so MCS decides the best way to influence and help Jingyan in the capital is by becoming his wife or one of his concubines

anything just get them together and happy.

Tokyo Babylon 

Characters: Subaru, Seishiro

I read Tokyo Babylon as a child and I imprinted on it deeply, now I love politics, ghosts, stalking, age differences, magic. Within the CLAMP canon, I love TB for its episodic focus on smaller stories, the commentary on contemporary society, and Seishiro being an outright creep. I love onmyojutsu and exorcism and Subaru’s innocence getting ruined. I love the city of Tokyo (where I currently live! but do not be intimidated, I don’t know the city well because we’ve been in quarantine most of the time I’ve been here and won’t judge you for details.) I’m open to fics that comply with X canon or not.

With Seishiro/Subaru: It’s bad but I love that predator/prey dynamic where the predator ends up being hopelessly entranced/obsessed/in love with the prey. My read was always that Seishiro lost the bet and couldn’t admit it—he’s just, you know, killing twins to avoid dealing with his feelings! Relatable! (?!?!) Subaru, I love particularly in his evolution from innocent to adult in love to betrayed. I’d prefer post-TB fic to during-TB fic (so Subaru knows Seishiro’s deal and loves him anyway.) I am also a fan of Hokuto and you should feel free to bring her back to life to troll if you desire.

Prompts:

AU or reincarnation plot where they are Heian period rival onmyoji

Because this is such a heavily place-based series, if you are a writer who likes to play with details of real life locations, I’d be interested in versions of different “Babylons” if you have an idea for it.

Tragic first times post-TB lol

Seishiro is a virgin the first time they have sex

I’d probably love some fucked up dub con for this, however you want to play it

Honestly, do whatever you want as long as you don’t fuck me over like CLAMP did.  

プリティーリズム | Pretty Rhythm

Characters: Hiro, Koji

Pretty Rhythm came to me at a weird time in my life. I lived in a house of spiders in Yokohama and did nothing for eight weeks. King of Prism cheer screening transformed my life and I didn’t even know what it was. Then I got weirdly deep into Rainbow Live and the Pretty Rhythm franchise overall. I am a scientist of prism theory. Idk why I like it, it’s just wholesome and crazy and there are penguins and DJ Koo. I love every TRF song because I’m a 90s gay at heart. It’s truly the end point of all media development. The prism world represents the fearsome power of virtual/digital+real hybrid life. Yes, I know I’ve lost my mind. I went to one of the real Prism Stone stores, the one in Harajuku.

Hiro Hayami: one time a fujoshi asked me to describe what types of anime boys I like and the first type I listed was “prince but bad” and my example was Hiro. Hiro is the crazy gay stalker disaster of my heart. He overcomes great hardship to achieve his dreams and foolishly falls in love along the way and he does everything wrong and Koji keeps leaving him. The moment when Hiro is crowned King of Prism in Pride the Hero was one of the top ten moments of my life. I made friends who don’t even know Japanese watch the movie unsubtitled with me on my birthday.

With Koji, I’m a bit guilty of “I want to give the character I love the most the character he loves the most” so I do like him less (it would be impossible to like him equal to how much I love Hiro). But he has many good points that make him perfect, like how he also sucks underneath his chill exterior. I love to see him go apeshit.

I also love everyone else in Rainbow Live, no exceptions. I love all the girls. If you do write the girls, I would prefer they not be paired with the OTR boys. I would prefer they be paired with each other, any combo is good.

Prompts:

this is the sort of pairing where I love fic where they split up and then 15 years later meet again as washed up has-beens but there’s still time for them to find each other

Canon-compliant companion piece showing the “background” of them getting together romantically over the course of the series.

AU where Koji is a prism world fairy sent to inspire Hiro but Hiro is kind of a mess

dirty, dirty porn… let Hiro get fucked

I have a lot of doujinshi with multiple copies of Hiro (a la the Mugen Hug jump) but I’d like something where Hiro gets overwhelmed by many Kojis

They start fake dating as a publicity stunt and have to keep doing it… especially good if it starts when Koji is at max hating Hiro level

Ring Fit Adventure 

Characters: Dragaux, Ring

Keeping this one simple: I like to be encouraged to exercise by a storyline and a trainer that never mentions weight loss, lol. The world is fun and pretty and I love that buff dragon.

AND THEN THE PAIRING. I’m sure Nintendo has some market research that told them a certain subset of users are very motivated by enemies who seemed to once be lovers or best friends. I am that user.

What is up with these two? They were so in love! Now Dragaux is a horrible swole bro (not in a good bro way) and Ring is training me instead? I can’t compete with their love. It’s the only time the game makes me feel inadequate.

You can keep Dragaux and Ring as dragon/ring-like as you like. Obviously I’m down with dragon fucking but you can also make him a human fucker too. I play with Ring on the masculine voice setting for maximum BL vibes as I exercise, but, you know, it’s a ring, I don’t think it has gender. Feel free to incorporate the player or other random characters too.

Prompts:

AU where Dragaux and Ring owned a gym together and Dragaux sold out to a big chain of gyms

What happened between them when Dragaux was still captured, pre-game? Bondage… literally??

Ring is always bossing me to train, but I’m really doing all the work. Why doesn’t he fight Dragaux on his own for once?? (because the sexual tension is too powerful.)

Tragic flashback to their dramatic break-up ending with their present day reconciliation.

Player/Dragaux/Ring threesome??? I’ve unlocked the sexercises???

With all fandoms, you are free to disregard the prompts and do your own thing. If you’re not sure about me, you can probably dm seriesera on twitter, she knows what I’m into. 

Well, I suppose that’s all for now. Please stalk me online to get more details on my bullshit. I hope you have a nice time.

Best,

Caitlin 

#yuletide

[fruitz]

johnten: a phrase that seems like it has existed since before the sands of time. it’s provocative, it’s excting, it’s.... fake?! yes readers, everyone’s favorite little jock x twink interactions were the brainchild of something even worse than a classic SM-planted gaybait, and I, user SorryJohnny am here to singlehandedly put a stop to the abomination that we currently call johnten. I have information that I intend will cause you little freaks known as johnten shippers to go into extinction. i know what you’re thinking: but user Sorry Johnny, ten had an intense sexual attraction to johnny! no you fucking donkey! this was all an illusion put into your tiny little pea brains that are so quickly satisfied with even an ounce of male on male flirting and angst that you’ve been blinded this whole time. let’s pull up the evidence. my suspicions of johnten began with the infamous vlive titled  "💚쟈니 텐 출사 준비중 시즈 니 도와주세요💚" braodcasted on july 12, 2018, which is otherwise titled as “johnny and tennie’s photo club” by YouTube creator brickbackstrony. it makes me sick to my stomach. yaoi-consuming freaks with no free time flocked to create edits & AUs based off of ten referring to johnny as a “top model” & saying he “lit his fire”. in fact, YouTube creator bringbackstrony claims ten *shivers in gay*. YouTube editors make me incredibly nauseous. straight kboos who have never spoken to a gay person in their entire live were too busy leaking their panties to pay attention to the cold hard proof at hand. when ten accidentally cut the crap. at timestamp 42:27, the slander begins, with ten bringing up johnny’s “thin lips” resulting in johnny looking visually offended. it only gets worse from there. at 43:13 ten releases an utter truth that he has been holding since SM rookies: “I think you look very weird.” no, user SorryJohnny, he quickly corrected himself and meant the drawing! no, reader, he went on to say “like sometimes, sorry.” he couldn’t cover up what he had done, so all he could do was apologize. that powerful statement, ringing through my ears as i lie to rest at night, “i think you look very weird” is the most genuine string of words that have ever come out of that pot-stirrer’s mouth. and i mean that sincerely, as someone who would, sadly, get gunned down in the street over that little shit starting fairy. he goes on to reveal a horrendous drawing of “johnny” that i can only describe as This Man, you know, the one with the unibrow that we see in our dreams? ten the man who designed his own tattoos. ten, the man who wants to create his own jewelry line. ten, the man who forced us all to witness his drawings of softcore porn peacock feather pussies 2 months ago... wait, you’re a johfam and you don’t know that ten did that? i’m sorry, it’s best you don’t try to find it. you’re telling me ten, the multilingual main dancer main vocalist sometimes rapper illustrator put out that visceral steaming pile of dog shit into the world and called it JOHNNY? do with that information what you will. so where does this leave us, reader? ten thinks johnny is very ugly. what now? what caused this entitled little f- to act like that exactly? that’s where things get interseting, and honestly, quite brutal. i firlmy believe that ten does want to have sex with one  bitter, pretentious, ancient old hack known as wayv’s qian kun, which is something i find very abysmal in and of itself, and should be considered beastiality, but that’s obviously for another time. so this brings us to the question at hand, how does ten flirt sincerely? openly and fruity, or by pining and angst? given his pisces placement, the latter is the correct answer.  given this information, we find that ten in fact did not find john suh sexually or romantically attractive. we’re back to the square one; what caused that little fruit to publicly say he wanted to have sex with him and utter abhorrent visual statements such as that of the nightmare-inducing “john’s banana?” why, you ask? it’s simple: ten is a bully.  why would ten make a bunch of 16 year old straight girls with blue hair and fujoshi kinks think that he found johnny suh to be the sexiest man alive? and why did he make an entire population of women age 18+ with daddy issues and stockholm syndrome believe the same thing? he answer is self explanatory. why does the republican jock pretend he has a crush on the ugly pimple-ridden sjw in a nyan cat shirt? harassment, bullying, and an unhealthily high sense of self. ten is a narcissist. he walked into SM one day to meet one 6’0 tall chicagoan accented john jun suh with as much sex appeal as mr. rogers and thought to himself “this is the ugliest man i’ve ever seen in my god-given life. i think i will pretend i want to have sex with him.” and thus, the terrorism that some like to call “johnten” and others like to call “a visual abomination to the gay population and mankind as a whole” was birthed, by none other than the manipulative, gas-lighting little bundle of nerves with a name that fits the entire alphabet; chittaphon leechaiyapornkul. the bastard.  it’s hard to say if the little fruit started this act out of malice or pity. either way, the inflation of that plastic surgery monster’s ego was a strategically targeted hate crime on us all. why would he do that? why would he make an entire population of innocent nctzens trying to thirst over sexy little lee taeyong in silence endure the inflated ego of a 25 year old straight man that dresses like a geriatric patient? this, i cannot say. but one thing i do know for sure, is that ten deserves extended jail time for this horrid act of what, pity? ego? malice? on 10velys and johfam alike. all that’s left to say is,  i’m sorry johnny suh.

#in honor of me realizing they returned <3

[cinnaminsvga]

intermission • ii | moonblind

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. jimin) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: exhibitionism, but not in a sexual way. more like in a public disturbance way. aka streaking.  → words: 4.4K → a/n: another drabble in between chapters to feed your soul!! this time, we’ll get to see some backstory to jihope before we dive into their full length chapter. and omo? is that angst i see? uh oh! 

— • masterlist | prev | intermission ii | next • —

–– 3 years ago ––

Jimin’s third Pop-Tart of the evening has just gone down his gullet when Hoseok knocks excitedly outside his bedroom window. Despite Jimin living on the second floor, it seems that the older boy had chosen to climb the precariously skinny camphor tree that connects their balconies in order to access his room. Regardless, Jimin slides open the window without another word while making sure to hide the box of sugary toaster pastries away from his intruder’s view.

Hoseok jumps down from the ledge, his recently dyed auburn hair awkwardly pasting itself to his forehead with sweat. He smiles brightly at Jimin, and extends his arms forward where he reveals a crumpled envelope clutched tightly in his fists.

Jimin lets out a loud burp, ignoring Hoseok’s disgusted grimace. “Worm. You stole Mister Sun’s porn subscription again?”

“No, you fucking idiot––” Hoseok whines, flopping onto Jimin’s unmade bed. He unfurls the previously ripped apart envelope before Jimin, dumping dozens of papers and glossy brochures all over his Anpanman bedsheets. “Look what I just got from the mail!”

Jimin stands up from his table, stepping towards Hoseok until he can make out the bright red seal of their local university on one of the crisp parchment papers. His heart races then, because there can only be one thing this letter could be about––and he hopes to god that it’s good news for the both of them.

Hoseok waits for his reaction, watches with glee as Jimin’s face slowly breaks into a blinding grin, his body radiating gladness for his dearest friend. He drops the paper to the floor before barrelling towards Hoseok, trapping him in a bear hug.

“Holy shit, hyung! You did it! You got in!” Jimin hollers, not caring to lower his volume despite knowing that his parents would surely scold him for the racket. How could he bare to kill his excitement? Especially when his best friend had just gotten the best news of his life?

Hoseok giggles, tapping Jimin’s shoulder to let him up a little. “Ooph, ease up on my windpipes, brat. It would be shit if you killed me before I even got to go to my first college party.”

“Not on my watch, you aren’t,” Jimin replies, getting off him but nonetheless keeping his arms wrapped gently around his shoulders. “You promised you’d take me with you.”

“Who said anything about me letting a baby like you drink?” Hoseok laughs, voice drunk on happiness. He leans into Jimin, watching the younger leaf through the rest of the papers as he sighs contentedly.

“But seriously, this is amazing! I always knew you could do it, hyung,” Jimin says, positively glowing with warmth. He speaks as if he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t. Hoseok doesn’t push (because he never does.)

“Yeah, well. I couldn’t have done it without my special cheerleader, my Jiminie,” he says sweetly. Jimin’s eyes crinkle from the force of his smile, nudging his friend with his knee as he continues to peruse the acceptance letter.

“Oh, shut up. No need to be corny with me. We both know that you’ve always been the better da––” Jimin freezes suddenly, when he gets to a particular piece of paper. His pupils are trained onto the wall of text, turning contemplative as he scans through it like his eyes are afraid to believe what they are seeing.

Hoseok sits upright, concerned. “Jiminie? You okay there?”

Jimin opens his mouth. Closes it. Blinks rapidly like he has spots in his vision. Then, he wordlessly shows him the paper that he was holding, allowing Hoseok to read what caused Jimin to go silent with shock.

Hoseok stares and he stares at the page, not quite getting it. “What am I supposed to be looking at?” he asks.

Jimin points to the bottom of the paper, where it states the tuition and scholarship that Hoseok had earned. He turns to look back at him, still confused, when Jimin’s finger lowers until it gets to the part where he finally understands.

“Oh,” he says, quietly. Perhaps, even a little guiltily too.

“Hyung,” Jimin murmurs, smoothing the paper and gently laying it to the bed. He turns to him, an indecipherable emotion flitting through his face. Hoseok swallows nervously. “You applied to become an English major?”

Sweat begins to build behind Hoseok’s neck. “Well––”

“No, that can’t be right. Maybe you got the wrong letter?” Jimin questions, turning the papers over to look for the mistake that had never been made. He grabs the torn envelope, reading the stark black ink stating “Jung Hoseok” and his home address of 18 years, and yet he still cannot quite believe it. He faces Hoseok, and asks, “Did you get rejected?”

Hoseok stares, wide-eyed, unsure on how to tell his best friend that he had been lying to him for months now. In his bliss-induced haze, he had forgotten all about the secret he had been harboring from him, how he had never applied for the degree that they both promised to apply for when they had been children. How could he face Park Jimin, when he knew that was both a liar and a coward?

Hoseok replies, so softly that Jimin almost misses it, “No. I didn’t get rejected.”

“Then? Why were you put into the English program? How do you explain that?” Hoseok hates the way that Jimin’s voice rises at the end, because he knows it only becomes like that when he can feel something is wrong. He knows that he’s about to be disappointed, betrayed.

“Jimin––”

“Hoseok-hyung, you’re literally one of the country’s best upcoming dancers. You’ve won countless national dance competitions. Why would they––” Jimin stammers, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to make sense of it all. “Hyung, what happened?”

Hoseok doesn’t know what to say. No, he does know what to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it. It’ll hurt, but not as much as it’ll probably hurt the only person who has ever believed in him. Hoseok is forced to look away, because there isn’t any other way to do this, not when he can see expectant eyes hoping for a lie he can never utter.

“I never applied for the dance program,” he says, finally. Rips the band-aid in one swoop, and waits for the blood to flow.

As expected, the pain is instantaneous, because Jimin’s never known how else to be. It would have been better if he had shouted, or pushed him––done something, because at least Hoseok would be giving him something to act upon. Instead, all he does is asks, in a whisper, “Why would you lie to me?”

“You wouldn’t have understood,” Hoseok says, but his argument is weak, even to his own ears.

“And what makes you think that when I found out eventually, I would have understood it better than if I had known before?” Jimin counters, lips trembling already.

Hoseok reels back, mouth going slack because honestly, he just doesn’t know. He isn’t thinking, and he certainly wasn’t thinking then. This all would have been easier if he had just learned to keep his big mouth shut––

Or perhaps, if he hadn’t lied in the first place.

“No, that’s not what I meant––”

“Then what did you think was going to happen, huh?” Jimin accuses, choking up as he tries to keep tears at bay. Hoseok senses the signs before he sees it, senses the oncoming waves of dejection that is sure to come. In another time, he would have been the one to comfort him during Jimin’s lows; to think that he has now learned how it feels to be on the other side of the equation.

Hoseok licks his lips. “I-I didn’t think––”

“Typical,” Jimin says, bitterly. Hoseok flinches, having never heard him use this tone of voice on him before. Jimin gives him no time to recover. “Of course you didn’t think. Why on earth would my opinion matter? Did you really think I would’ve just ditched you if you had told me earlier?”

“No, but––”

“You made me think that we had an agreement with each other. You made me think that we would become the country’s best pair of dancers together. Together, hyung,” Jimin repeats, hurt dripping from every word.

“Jimin, we both know that was a promise we made when we were children. There’s no way we would ever have become better than everyone else––dancing our way to success has always been a foolish dream, and we’re both better off not pursuing it.” Hoseok says smoothly, his thoughts tumbling out through his lips like butter because he’s been repeating the same excuse to himself ever since he had submitted his university application. He knows, his parents know, and his teachers know that there is no future for him when it comes to dancing––it’s called a dream for a reason, after all. 

The sooner that he and Jimin get their heads around this fact, the better.

“I can’t - no, I refuse to believe that you actually think that way. Not when,” Jimin inhales, small fists clenched so tightly that they tremble by his thighs. “Not when I’ve seen how you dance. You can’t fucking tell me that you don’t love the way the music pumps through your veins, and how the energy of the crowd is like no other drug in the world. I’ve seen the way you talk about dance, hyung. You can’t lie to me.”

It’s true. He can’t lie. But damn, no one can stop him from trying.

“Jimin, I know this is hard to come to terms with, and I know you deserve more than a shitty apology.”

“Save it,” Jimin hisses, standing up from the bed. He marches over to the window, dragging the glass open and allowing the cold night breeze to chill the small bedroom. The papers flutter about lightly, almost mockingly.

“Get out of my house. We’ll talk again when I’ve cooled down.” Jimin says, throat tight with feelings left unsaid. Hoseok complies, jumping to the extended branch without another look back. He never thinks to ask for forgiveness, and Jimin isn’t sure if he would’ve given it to him, anyway.

Jimin shuts the window, and the room is silent once more. He shoves the papers off of his bed, sweeping them angrily under the rug for him to deal with later. For now, he needs to do something else to take his mind off of everything that just happened.

He flips his phone on, scrolling through his measly contact list until he gets to one of the latest additions in his roster. He never once thought that he’d resort to calling this person in particular. Then again, his stupid ass decided to become dependent on one person, so what else is he supposed to do?

The phone rings only twice before he picks up.

“‘Sup,” is what Taehyung’s deep voice greets him. Beyond the static, Jimin can hear the distant sound of Yoshi’s cheery voice in the background.

“Hey. You busy?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the ends of his sweater nervously. Wait, why is he nervous? Taehyung is the weird new kid that moved in just a few weeks ago. Surely, the stranger in the neighborhood should be the one sweating bullets right now?

“Not in particular. Why?” The distinct tune of game over music plays shortly after, and Taehyung curses quietly under his breath. A loud clacking sound follows after, and Jimin guesses that the other boy had thrown his controller away in disgruntlement. “Well. I’m definitely free now. You need something?”

“Well…” Jimin hesitates, unsure of what to say. That he had potentially lost the only friend that he’s ever had and now he needs a replacement, asap? Yeah, right.

Taehyung beats him to the punch. “You need a friend or something? You feelin’ lonely?” he asks plainly.

Jimin chokes on his spit. “N-no…” he mutters, pouting at being found out so easily.

Taehyung laughs, not unkindly. “Don’t worry, dude. I was just messing with ya. I know you and that Jung kid are pretty tight. He must be busy with college stuff now, right? He’s a year older than us, if I remember correctly.”

“Y-yeah. He is. I was just bored, is all…”

“Sweet.” Jimin can hear him grin through the speaker. “Meet ya in front of your house in just a sec.”

Just as Jimin is about to ask what he plans on doing, Taehyung ends the call abruptly. “Rude,” he says, huffing slightly. Well, guess he has no choice but to search for some pants to wear before making his way to his front door. (Has he been naked this entire time? That’s up to you to decide.)

It doesn’t take long for Taehyung to arrive, but Jimin does note of the way he is panting slightly when he finally reached his front lawn. He looks at him, concerned. “Hey dude. You okay? Why’re you so tired?”

Taehyung holds up a finger, back bent with his hands on his knees. “Ran,” is all he says, still struggling with his breath.

Jimin stares at him. “We literally live three houses away from each other.”

“We can’t all be Michael Phelps,” Taehyung retorts.

“He’s a swimmer.”

“Same thing. We all got lungs.”

Jimin snorts, patting him on the back. “Alright, Phelps. What were you planning on doing during this fine evening? I hope it has something to do with two fake IDs and maybe a couple of dollar bills.”

“What?” Taehyung gasps, staring at him in shock. “That’s the type of shit you do with Jung?”

“Nah. I was just messing with you. I only got a fake ID so I could vote.” he jokes.

“Same,” he replies without missing a beat. Jimin isn’t sure if he was joking. “But nah. I was planning on asking you to go out for a run with me. To let go of some steam, or whatever it is you jocks like to do for fun.”

“You want to go on a run? Dude, you literally almost died getting here.” Jimin points out.

Taehyung raises a finger. “Key word: almost.” He rifles through his short gym shorts (read: very very short shorts) for a moment, before dangling a pair of 80s-looking car keys at him. “I was thinking that you would do more of the running, while I drive beside you so I can keep you company.”

Jimin stares at him. Then, “Is this what you think healthy people do for fun?”

“Listen man. I ate rice with ketchup for dinner today so please don’t tease me.”

Jimin laughs, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.” he says, slapping the other boy on the shoulder. Taehyung hisses in pain, but is quick to hide it when Jimin finally fixes his gaze on him.

“So.”

“So?”

“Wanna go underage drinking?”

“Sounds fun, but I have a better idea,” Taehyung says, grabbing Jimin by the hand. If Jimin is startled by this near-stranger’s blatant invasion of his space, he doesn’t say it. Maybe because somehow, he knows that he can trust Taehyung with his life.

Well. Maybe not his life. Maybe his wifi password? Debatable. Still––

“What’s your idea, hotshot?” Jimin asks, but all Taehyung does is shoot him a boxy grin.

“Just keep walking, and follow me.”

Turns out, Taehyung’s idea isn’t all that bad.

Taehyung had found out from an older friend that there was an event being hosted by the nearby university at their open grounds that night. When they get there, hundreds of plastered university students are already milling about, so much so that no one seems to bat an eye that two high school kids were somehow making their way through the crowd and onto one of the makeshift bleachers.

“Everyone’s either too high or too drunk to care that we’re here,” Jimin notices, gazing at the surrounding “adults” as they clumsily found their way to their seats.

“Yeah. That’s just how old people are like all the time.” Taehyung hums, pushing off a young man and woman who both seem to be permanently sewn together by their lips. “Oops, guess these seats are free now!” he says cheerfully, patting the other space for Jimin.

Jimin can’t help staring at the large crowd, wondering if this is the crowd he’ll find himself in just a year’s time. “What is this event for, anyway?” It’s hard to tell, especially since there seems to be no signs of event coordination whatsoever. For all he knows, he could be a part of some cultish initiation or whatever.

“Oh, I don’t know. Some welcoming party to start the new semester? Who cares. We’re just here to observe,” Taehyung says, grabbing the popcorn bucket from another preoccupied couple in front of them. He offers some to Jimin, to which he politely declines. He shrugs his shoulders, popping ten of them into his mouth. “I mean, we only have a year left before we’re one of these braindead sacks of shit, so might as well have a head start and wreak a little havoc.”

“A year left, huh.” Jimin mutters to himself, brows furrowed. Taehyung pauses in his munching to observe his new friend, who is staring at the ground thoughtfully. In front of them, the sound of a cannon firing reverberates across the park, and the crowd jumps to their feet around them. Neither of them join the rest.

“You thinkin’ of something?” Taehyung shouts over the crowd, and Jimin can barely hear him. He shakes his head, ready to brush his concern aside, but thinks better of it. Why should he hide his feelings? He isn’t Hoseok, after all.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, man. I just think I’m not cut out for this university life!” he yells, the crowd still going apeshit at whatever was happening up front. A man in a stereotypical toga overhears him, who turns to them in all his red face-painted glory.

“Bro! That was totally me in freshie year! Don’t worry, kid! We ALL want to die, and that’s what we call team spirit!” He hollers wildly, and a group of similarly dressed men beside him bellows back in agreement.

Taehyung laughs gleefully at their antics, while Jimin has to force a chuckle out just so the drunken toga-wearing troglodytes would look away from him so he can continue his spontaneous heart-to-heart session.

“Sorry. You were saying?” Taehyung asks, voice now at regular-ish speaking level now that the people around them have settled down.

“I was saying how I think I won’t be going to university. It’s just not the life for me, you know?” he says, and Jimin can admit that he was acting a bit bitter after what had just happened a few hours ago, but he wasn’t thinking sensibly right now. Or maybe, this is the most sensible that he’s been in his life.

Jimin doesn’t want to think too deeply about it, and luckily, Taehyung just gets it. He doesn’t pry, choosing instead to nod empathetically back at him and leaving it at that.

“That’s cool, dude. Maybe this can be your way of experiencing the uni life, at least one way or another.”

“Yeah,” Jimin says, chest hollow. He gazes to the front where a scantily clad cheerleader bats open a piñata filled with tampons instead of candy. Another piñata is filled with K-pop lenticular cards. The crowd goes nuts.

The two of them continue to watch the festivities unfold. Perhaps it is due to the lack of alcohol and other consumable vices in their systems, but they soon come to realize that this event is boring as hell. Everyone else seems to be having a good time, but Jimin cannot for the life of him fathom why watching five dudes sing the wrong lyrics to High School Musical is the definition of “a good time.”

Taehyung says it before he does. “Dude, this sucks.”

Jimin nods forlornly. “This sucks.”

Like the fiendish person that Jimin will soon come to know in the following years, Taehyung’s eyes glint with the unrestrained need to be a little shit. So, he offers Jimin an idea.

“Hey. You ever wanted to do a mildly illegal crime and get away with it?”

Jimin squints at him. “Not in particular. Why?”

Taehyung grins brightly. If Jimin didn’t know any better (which he didn’t, because he only met this kid a few weeks ago when his mother forced him to bring over some housewarming cupcakes to the new neighbors), he would have assumed that Taehyung is as angelic as they come. The type of person who sheltered abandoned puppies and volunteered at the local orphanages.

Oh, how wrong he was. Apparently, Taehyung is  the type of person to demand a newfound friend “take off your pants right now” without an ounce of shame. 

Like a sane person, Jimin refuses immediately.

Jimin tries again. “If you think I’m gonna drop my pants now and cause a scene to make you laugh, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

Taehyung tries again. “You and I both know this shit is boring as hell, and the only people with an ounce of artistic flare in their bodies is us, so why don’t you take one for the team and drop your pants?”

So Jimin stares into Taehyung’s eyes a little longer. They stay still, neither of them willing to back down. The raucous crowd around them is incognizant of the exchange happening right in front of them. Like many natural disasters, no one ever really sees it coming. Then:

“Why don’t you do it, then?”

“I’m not the one with the abs, am I?”

…

Somehow, that’s what gets Jimin.

You are walking back home from the nearby university event after having decided to leave early due to how unappealing the entire thing had been. You seriously regret letting your classmates pressure you into attending with them, since you know all of them had just wanted to sneak out for some underage drinking. You have never been into that sort of thing, and so you promise yourself to never go along with your friends’ harebrained schemes after this disaster.

You haven’t made it that far away from the open grounds, so you can still hear the deafening hoots of college students from where you stood. However, you are suddenly shocked by the sudden shrieks of terror, more striking than the previous ruckus with how absolutely terrified these screams sounded.

Curious, you turn to face where you had just been, craning your head for any signs of the source of the commotion. Your eyesight isn’t good enough to see that far, so you are quick to give up and shrug your shoulders. Must have been some weird performance by another group of college weirdos. What else is new?

You continue walking at a relaxed speed, not in a hurry to reach home when suddenly, you can hear the distant sound of bare feet slapping furiously against the pavement.

Having just watched a copious amount of unsolved murder documentaries the night before, you hasten your pace, almost ready to dash out of there when the footsteps start to grow louder and more distinct. Fully alarmed now, you are pretty much speed-walking by the time your would-be assailant seems to be inches away from you.

Daring a chance to look back, you let out a bloodcurdling scream as you see what appears to be a fully naked man running headfirst towards you. Your screech causes the man to yell back in surprise, and accidentally tripping all over himself and into the concrete. You wince at the sound of his nose cracking painfully against the sidewalk, but you have no chance to feel sorry for him because oh my god there was a literal naked man chasing after you!!!

But your stupid ass just HAD to interact with him, because you’re stupid and your head is made of air. Sorry, it be like that sometimes.

“Who the fuck are you? I’m going to kill you?” You say the last part like a question, because really, do you think you could kill a man? We already established that you’ve got an empty skull, so what the hell do you think you’d be able to do? Flail around like those inflatable balloon things outside car dealerships?

The man groans loudly, lifting his head up slowly from disorientation. Like you had guessed, his face is bloody where his nose had broken, but nothing else seems to be injured (but you can’t say the same for his brain, though.) He coughs, smearing his blood with his hand in a futile attempt to staunch the steady flow.

“Listen,” he begins, his voice sounding muffled due to the way his nostrils have pretty much collapsed into his face. You grimace at blood-shaped face print he had left on the sidewalk. “Sorry for spooking you. As much as I really appreciate death right now, you’ll have to redirect Satan to my doorstep for another time because I have to kill Kim Taehyung before I meet my maker.”

God, you are literally too tired to deal with this shit. “That doesn’t even make sense––”

He stands up all of a sudden, jumping to his full height with the grace of an Olympic runner. And by Olympic runner, you mean the ones from Ancient Greece when they’d compete all naked and oiled. Like this dude is. Except he’s all naked and bloodied.

You can feel the beginnings of a migraine starting to form. Hm... Maybe underage drinking is the answer. (It’s definitely not, but one can dream.)

He straightens up, nodding curtly at you. “Sorry, no time to explain. I must be on my way.” With one final salute, he sprints off, his toned legs carrying him farther and farther away until only the sheen of his pale ass can be seen from a distance. It twinkles, ever so gently under the moonlight.

“Wack,” you say.

And so, you went home.

The next day, on social media, the myth of the moon streaker makes its rounds. Everyone is wondering who it is, but no one seems to have ever seen that boy in their university before.

[+985, -23] omg… that was disgusting and inappropriate!! but… 10/10 would see again lol

[+759, -3] that ass though? it was beautiful… like the full moon… when will my boyfriend EVER

[+699, -1] lunar new year is officially MOVED to today… god bless that naked lil man. i love you.

#btssunshinenet #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts angst #bts crack #bts fluff #park jimin #jimin scenarios #jimin imagines #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin crack #bangtan #bts fanfic #LOL UHHH... imma proofread it tomorrow #its like 4am give me a break LOL

[perpetually-jungshook]

RED || 02

Genre: humor, jimin x jungkook for now, angst, fluff, humor

Summary: Life is weird. Jungkook works as Jimin’s niche porn photographer and finds it difficult to remember that the he’s only flirting with the camera. Namjoon despises the world of big business but works as a manager for an international corporate company and hates it (cruel irony, he says). Yoongi is just a typical IT guy who has a secret he’s never told anyone, which is totally typical. Hoseok and Seokjin work at a retirement home, from which they one day bring back some random volunteer with fiery red hair who may or may not change everything.

Warnings: language, crude humor, pining

Word Count: 7.4k

Links: Storyboard || 01 || Next Part

As it turns out, hot-Taehyung who volunteers at the retirement home isn’t terrible. At least, not more terrible than any of Jungkook’s other friends, who are pretty much only mildly awful. But that’s a whole different conversation. Taehyung seems nice and rather interesting. He laughs at Jungkook’s lame jokes, watches anime, still collects Beanie Babies, and has somehow (for whatever goddamn reason) made it through reading the entirety of both Ulysses and Moby Dick— twice. As if once or not at all wasn’t enough.

Jungkook learns all of these things over the course of their impromptu three hour hang out, which ends abruptly and disappointingly (though he’d never admit it out loud) when Hoseok comes home on his lunch break to unlock the apartment door, apparently having been informed about the situation. Taehyung says goodbye so he can get ready for his volunteer shift and leaves Jungkook to wallow in a Jimin induced sorrow by himself again.

To keep busy, Jungkook attempts to read Ulysses because it’s free online, now in the public domain, but gets about three pages in before closing the tab on his phone and returning to his Harry Potter TV marathon.

Jungkook tries not to acknowledge the fact that he’s glad Jimin isn’t the one who came to let Taehyung in first.

An hour or so later, the jingling of keys is Jungkook’s only warning that someone is home. Yoongi yawns as he walks through the door and gracelessly kicks off his shoes. His tired gaze is practically blind to Jungkook, sweeping over him with nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement.

“Poor Yoongi, so sleepy from turning off and on computers all day,” Jungkook coos, getting up and walking over to put his hands on the older boy’s shoulders to bodily steer him sideways toward the kitchen.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too,” Jungkook coos, laughing fondly and sitting him down at the small island. “What would you like to eat?”

“What do we have?”

“Instant noodles.”

“And?”

“Instant noodles.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes, lips caught between a sleepy pout and a suspicious frown, “I just bought stuff for stir fry.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook smiles innocently. “But that actually requires effort?”

“You little shit.”

“Your little shit,” Jungkook corrects and walks over to the cabinet to grab one of the styrofoam containers. “I’m your best friend and you love me, even if you won’t say it. Oh, we actually don’t have any more instant noodles.”

“So we’re out of the one thing on your menu?”

“Yes, but you’re in luck. We have a sudden new addition. How does a frozen burrito sound?”

Yoongi snorts.

“How are you even alive? With all the crap you eat.”

“That’s a good question,” Jungkook says as he opens the freezer and looks inside. “I can make a pizza instead? That’s like a whole meal. Carbs, dairy, meat— this one has olives on it. That’s like a vegetable.”

“It’s a fruit.”

“An olive… is a fruit?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook stares at the little black circles on the pizza. Weird. He’ll need to have a soft existential crisis about that later.

“Okay so pizza it is.”

Yoongi sighs heavily as he gets up and walks over to the fridge, bumping Jungkook out of the way with his hip. The younger boy laughs and moves away without complaint. He’ll take a free meal any day.

“You are literally useless…” Yoongi grumbles as he stirs the frying stir fry, but Jungkook knows he doesn’t mean it. Yoongi is all bark and no bite. Except when he actually bites, like that time when Hoseok tried to get him to hold the rental parrot at the karaoke bar. “… can’t even make a goddamn— fuck.”

Yeah, he’d been tuning Yoongi out, but the loud curse gets Jungkook’s attention, yanking him away from the vivid memory. His gaze cuts to Yoongi’s finger where he’s sucking at it, a burn from a slip of the hand no doubt. Jungkook reacts without question, without having to be told. He doesn’t joke around when it comes to injuries, no matter how small.

He pushes away from the countertop where he’d been leaning, going over to the stove where he flicks off the heat and tugs Yoongi away by his free wrist, leading him over to the sink. It requires a little prompting, like trying to get an angry, terrified opossum out of a corner, but it only takes a few seconds to coax Yoongi’s finger out of his mouth and into the stream of cool water. It’s not a bad burn, thankfully, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just stand by idly.

If Jungkook has learned anything about his friend in the years they’ve known each other, it’s that Yoongi hates being reminded that he’s human. He dislikes pain, sleep, hunger, really anything that draws him away from his job, his phone, or his computer (which is ironic because he’s actually a decent cook). He has always been like this, at least to Jungkook’s knowledge. What he does all day on these devices (besides sending anonymous memes to his supervisors and telling people to turn off and on their computers) is still a mystery. Jungkook figures that if Yoongi wanted to share, he would. He respects people’s privacy like that, though Seokjin just calls Jungkook lazy.

But when something like this happens, when Yoongi has to take time out of his schedule to take care of his body, he’s usually kind of bad at caring or remembering or not panicking. And that’s where Jungkook comes in.

“I’m going to go get a bandaid, just keep that— Yoongi— keep that under the water,” Jungkook pries the older boy’s finger away from his mouth and puts it back in the sink. “Stay.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Stay, please?”

Yoongi only grumpily huffs in acknowledgement, but when Jungkook comes back with some ointment and a store brand bandage, he’s still obediently got his hand under the faucet. A pat dry, dab of antibacterial medication, and patch up later, Jungkook steps back to examine at his handiwork.

“Looks good to me.”

“Thanks, Kook,” Yoongi mumbles, lip twitching in displeasure, probably from the pain.

Jungkook waits a beat for comedic effect, “So I’m not literally useless, right?”

“Fuck you.”

“Boo, you already used that.”

Jungkook helps Yoongi finish making dinner, much to the older boy’s unexpressed surprise. It’s not that I’m switching points of view here, it’s that Jungkook doesn’t usually do the whole “cooking” thing. It’s his fear of Yoongi accidentally injuring himself again that has him stepping up, plus his desire to be a good friend and decent human being.

They end up eating the stir fry with Namjoon, who comes home suspiciously close to the completion of the cooking process. They make smalltalk around the table, discussing work, personal lives, and Namjoon’s most recent tarot card reading. As he starts explaining, Yoongi miraculously refrains from giving him a hard time.

Jungkook doesn’t understand most of what’s being said, but the word “Death” definitely catches his attention. A queasy, heavy feeling naturally settles in his stomach though it’s quickly dissipated upon hearing the explanation, “Death is about endings and beginnings, change and transformation.” He’s never been sure if he believes in tarot cards and that kind of stuff, but Namjoon believes it, so it’s hard not to be at least somewhat convinced. After a few more cards he loses interest again, not seeing how this is going to affect him considering it’s Namjoon’s reading.

He idly wonders if Jimin is home yet.

Jimin walks into an empty house, but he’s expecting it. Hoseok and Seokjin are out getting drinks, which isn’t half as wild as it sounds. They occasionally go to this restaurant downtown to have non alcoholic beverages and talk about work, primarily about how scary Ms. Piper is. Jimin doesn’t understand how an old lady can be so terrifying to someone like Hoseok, who everyone loves (even when he’s trying to kill them over stolen food), but he can understand needing to vent after a long shift. He wishes he had that luxury right now, but he’d be talking to the walls which, in this case, aren’t too great at listening. They only seem to be interested in him, proverbially speaking, when he’s got a… companion over.

Tossing his keys onto the side table near the door and deftly kicking off his shoes, Jimin rubs his stiff neck muscles as he makes his way past the kitchen to his room. When they moved in, Hoseok and Seokjin had been kind enough to offer him the master suite because of his occupation, leaving enough space for the couch and any lights or other equipment needed for adequate filming. This led to his door being right off the living room, which means it’s so easy to pause and glance at the couch before going inside.

He doesn’t know when Taehyung is supposed to come back, but Jimin won’t lie. He’s (trying not to be) excited. Of course, there’s always the possibility that nothing will happen. Maybe Taehyung wouldn’t be into a hookup when he’s staying on their couch. Maybe he isn’t into Jimin. Maybe he isn’t even into guys.

But that’s the fun part, the possibility that he would be willing to try.

Jimin resists the temptation to just flop onto his bed and scroll through Twitter. He can at least take off his work clothes. He deserves that much. One pair of sweatpants and a threadbare T-shirt later, Jimin rolls onto his bed with a quiet groan. Numbers flit around behind his eyelids as he closes them, a side effect of being an anonymous accountant in a large company. It takes some effort to dispel the figures and formulas, effort that’s ultimately wasted as they crowd back into his mind moments later. Deep breath. His stomach growls, but he can’t be bothered to get up. Seokjin might make him food later if he asks very, very nicely. Or what if he called Jungkook?

No. That’s cruel. That’s abusing his friend and Jimin knows it, so he banishes the thought as soon as he has the self control and clarity of mind to refute it.

His phone pings from where he set it on the nightstand before he changed clothes. Rolling onto his side, curling into the fetal position, he winces when he sees the contact name. It’s a private message, not part of the group chat.

Jungkook: [8:20 pm]

Hey

Jimin: [8:20 pm]

Sup?

Jungkook: [8:21 pm]

Just sent you an email with the pics

Let me know if any need to be touched up

Jimin: [8:21 pm]

K thanks~

Jimin opens his email and looks through the pictures. It’s amazing, what Jungkook can do with some good lighting and heavy editing. Granted, Jimin has close to no idea what goes on after he stops posing. He’s never asked and Jungkook doesn’t tell him. All he knows is one day, they’re working on a shoot, less than a week later there are photos in his inbox, and they are always breathtaking. It’s not an ego thing, namely because Jimin knows he doesn’t actually look that good in person.

It’s just easy to get distracted by the fairy prince in some far away forest lounging on a couch, eyes heavily lidded in a perpetual “come hither” stare. He might’ve found it objectively pretty, maybe even seductive if he wasn’t so busy being disgusted.

Jimin: [8:24 pm]

They look good Kookie

Thank you

Jungkook: [8:26 pm]

Anytime. Hungry?

Jimin’s throat pinches a bit and he’s not sure whether it’s due to guilt or excitement, but he reigns his emotions in, just in case it’s the latter.

Jimin: [8:26 pm]

Why?

Jungkook: [8:27 pm]

Yoongi made stir fry

A small smile tugs gently at the corners of his lips, tugging equally at his heartstrings. Jungkook is the sweetest boy. He always has been. Kind, considerate, respectful. Even when Jimin teases him, he endures it like a good sport, often times just blushing or laughing along. Jungkook always takes care of him. Always. So he hesitates, caught between doing the right thing and what his body wants him to do. Both choices feel egregiously wrong.

Jimin: [8:28 pm]

Thanks Kookie but I think I’ll pass :)

I’m just so sleepy from work

Jungkook: [8:28 pm]

Okay no worries haha

Rest well and don’t forget to eat

Jimin takes a deep breath and sets his phone aside. Maybe he should’ve said yes. Hanging out with his friends might’ve helped, but now that he’s in bed, he doesn’t want to get up. Not even an explicit offer of rough couch sex with hot-Taehyung would do it. Well, Seokjin’s homemade soup might coax him, but Seokjin isn’t here right now. No one is. It’s just Jimin.

Always just Jimin.

It’s around midnight that there’s a knock on Jungkook’s door. Thankfully, he’s neither sleeping nor masturbating. He’s putting together a backdrop for Jimin’s next shoot, which will take place when Jimin’s boss gives them the go ahead, but he likes to be prepared.

Jungkook grunts in response, figuring it’s Namjoon wanting to tell him to pick up a stray dirty sock from the bathroom because he does that at odd hours of the morning sometimes and “I’ll be damned if I have to pick up your random sketchy socks all around the house” to quote him directly. The door opens.

“Hey, you up?” A deep voice, but definitely not Namjoon’s.

“Yeah,” Jungkook swivels around in his office chair to face Taehyung, surprised and a little nervous. He bites back the first two questions on his tongue: What’s he doing here? And: Is everything okay?

“Oh good I was afraid you were sleeping,” Taehyung sighs in obviously relief, leaning his shoulder lightly against the door frame. He’s still wearing his uniform from the retirement home, volunteer tag and all. He looks ridiculously good in navy blue scrubs and it’s obvious why Seokjin added on the “hot” qualifier when first talking about him. He continues, “You look like you’re almost ready for bed but do you maybe want to go get a doughnut with me?”

“A doughnut?” One of Jungkook’s eyebrows shoots up in curiosity.

Taehyung laughs lightly, quietly, “I know it’s a bit late for that so if you don’t wanna go, no hard feelings. I just got back from my shift and I wanted something sugary to eat but everyone else was asleep upstairs and Yoongi said you might be awake—”

“Yoongi answered the door?”

This question serves two purposes. One, confirming Taehyung didn’t just break in through his bathroom window or something. Two, it’s a self-diversion for the question he really wants to ask: why me? Taehyung probably has other friends aside from Seokjin and Hoseok, why choose someone he practically just met?

“Yeah. He was up watching a movie.”

“Oh, cool. Sure we can get doughnuts. Let me just…” Jungkook gestures down at his boxers. “Get dressed and stuff.”

“No rush. I’ll be in the kitchen,” Taehyung nods, seeming completely unbothered by any of it.

As soon as he’s out of sight, Jungkook closes his door again, slipping into some sweatpants and a hoodie. It isn’t too cold out yet, but one can never be too sure. He’d rather be warm and take off layers than be freezing and have nothing. Though, being hot and having no more layers to take off is pretty miserable too— concentrate.

He grabs his wallet and stuffs it, his phone, and his keys in the hoodie pocket, then goes to find Taehyung. He’s right where he said he’d be, in the kitchen, trying to balance a spatula on his index finger. Granted, he hadn’t said he’d be doing that, but anyone who’s read Ulysses and Moby Dick twice for fun is capable of anything. They’re obviously chaotic evil, or at the very least chaotic neutral.

Taehyung catches the spatula in his free hand as it falls, the action calculatedly effortless.

“Ready to go?”

Jungkook nods, watching him put the spatula back in the chipped ceramic pot that holds all four of the still functioning cooking utensils in the house. He hopes Taehyung didn’t drop it at any point. With a wave to Yoongi, who might be dozing on the couch or completely alert (it’s always hard to tell with him), the two boys head out.

“My car’s that way,” Jungkook points, but does a double take as Taehyung turns in the opposite direction.

The boy with the fiery red hair laughs brightly, pausing and gesturing for Jungkook to follow. His voice is soft and still surprisingly deep for his smile, “It’s just down the street. We can walk.”

“Okay but didn’t you just finish working a six hour volunteer shift?”

“Yeah, so I’m the one who should be complaining,” Taehyung says this teasingly.

“I’m not complaining,” Jungkook grumbles, but he doesn’t even try to suppress his smile. They walk in silence for a minute or two before he realizes he’s just been following without question or comment. Time for those good conversation skills he definitely has. “You know where we’re going right?”

Taehyung pauses and turns to look at Jungkook, who had been a few steps behind him, “What? I was following you. Just kidding don’t look at me like that. I totally know where we’re going.”

Jungkook joins in with Taehyung’s laughter, though the former’s is notably quieter.

“I just wanted to make sure so we didn’t get lost or anything.”

“Lost? But you live right back there.”

Jungkook shrugs, “Doesn’t mean I know where I am all the time.”

“Dude. How do you-?”

“I know,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, cutting off Taehyung’s inquiry, but allowing him to giggle instead. “I just kind of drive to wherever I need to be and then go home. I don’t usually explore much.”

Taehyung continues walking, an easy, amused smile having slid onto his lips, “Aren’t you a photographer?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook can tell he’s about to get lectured, but he doesn’t mind. Something about Taehyung just reads as “old soul.” Despite his awful choices regarding tea and literature.

“Don’t you kind of need to be… out and about exploring for that?” He turns to Jungkook and arches an eyebrow. “Like, I’ve heard people say photos sometimes take the whole day to set up and find the perfect moment or whatever.”

Jungkook had heard that a lot too, and considering how much time he spends setting up Jimin’s photos, he can almost say he adheres to that philosophy.

Taehyung continues, “But I think good photography can also happen in an instant, like some random moment in a random place, yknow? Spontaneously.”

Almost as quick a camera shutter, an image flashes behind Jungkook’s eyelids. A smirk. A smile. A laugh. All caught spontaneously.

Those pictures are indisputably his favorite.

He doesn’t know what to think, so instead of admitting anything, he lets out a quiet, amused huff and says, “Seems like you know a lot about photography.”

“Oh I actually know close to nothing about it.”

At least he admits it.

Taehyung presses the button for the crosswalk, despite there being close to no cars on the street. Maybe he’s stereotyping hard, but Jungkook pegged him as the type of guy to just cross. Maybe without looking. Taehyung seems like that kind of ballsy, doesn’t give a shit person, but maybe that’s simply because of his dyed hair, and maybe he’s not like that at all.

They wait for the crossing light to come on before the conversation continues.

“So what’s your favorite thing to take pictures of?”

Jimin. Not that… he’s a “thing.”

Jungkook hums, stalling for time to come up with a decent answer, “Since it’s kind of my job, whatever’s popular at the time—”

“That’s an awful answer.”

Welp.

“What are you passionate about? I mean c’mon,” Taehyung pauses as he opens the door to the 24/7 doughnut store and gestures for Jungkook to enter first. “You literally have someone’s dream job.”

Jungkook fidgets a bit as he steps inside, fingers folding over the sleeves of his hoodie to press it into his palms. The weight of his wallet, phone, and keys hanging low against his stomach, almost at his crotch is awkward and makes a lump that looks too malformed to actually be a boner.

“I guess—”

“Don’t guess.”

The store smells like stale doughnuts, the ones in the cases likely made this morning. It’s underscored by a layer of too-sugary frosting or glaze or whichever the machines last ran, but what’s a doughnut without that? Besides, the stale sugary smell is typical of a place like this, a slightly dingy, nondescript Coffee & Donut (yes spelled like that and singular) shop that’s known more for its Donuts than Coffee despite the order of the words on the sign.

“People. I like taking pictures of people. Candid shots.”

“But isn’t there like a whole thing about consent?”

Jungkook’s cheeks suddenly feel very warm, “Yeah, which is why I don’t do it.”

Taehyung leads the way to the counter, much to the obvious displeasure of the (approximately) nineteen year old (maybe) college girl working behind the register. As is standard of all night shift employees, she clearly doesn’t want to be here, is probably on her fifth cup of cheap break room watered down coffee, and is likely running on a granola bar she ate six hours ago.

There’s a sign on the tip jar that reads: Just the tip.

Inappropriate enough to be appropriate for the night shift, Jungkook thinks.

They order their doughnuts, two for Jungkook, two for Taehyung, and a chocolate milk for each because why the heck not? They’re feeling wild. Once they’re settled at a table in the far corner of the shop and the female employee has disappeared into the stockroom to text or play games on her phone, Taehyung washes down a rather huge bite (even for Jungkook’s standards) with a swig of said milk and asks, “So is that why you do porn? Because you like taking pictures of people?”

Jungkook chokes, unsure if he’s surprised at the question itself or Taehyung’s casualness about asking, “I— I mean, I don’t know?”

Someone must have told him about the shoots. Probably Jimin. But when would that have happened?

“You don’t? How can you not know something like that?” he inquires with a straight face.

If there’s any judgment in his voice, it has nothing to do with the porn aspect of it.

Taehyung continues after a moment, a smirk slowly curling up the corners of his lips, “Or do you do it because you have a thing for Jimin?”

“I don’t… have a thing for him,” the hesitance is damning, even to his own ears.

Taehyung takes another bite of his doughnut, which consists of him stuffing the entire rest of the second half into his mouth. Naturally, he needs to chew this, which means the prolonged silence sits heavier over them than Jungkook’s overstuffed wallet, phone, and keychain with too many keys and charms sitting uncomfortably against his crotch. So like, really uncomfortable with zero boners.

The boy with the fiery red hair currently not held up by the faded navy blue bandana abruptly starts laughing. It’s not at Jungkook’s expense, he thinks. At least it doesn’t sound like it is. His reaction is lighter, quieter, and more “I’ve just confirmed your crush on the dude who wanted me to boink him or for him to boink me, I’m not quite sure,” which is very specific but highly accurate.

“You don’t have a thing for him. Right. Uh-huh. And I didn’t just inhale a glazed doughnut.”

Jungkook tries to find something to defend himself and settles on like, The Worst thing, throwing a crumpled napkin at Taehyung as if to say: I have resorted to the absolute minimal amount of physical violence to distract you.

He tries to save the retaliation by saying, “Technically, you didn’t inhale it. You took two bites.”

Taehyung laughs harder, dodging the napkin easily, but to Jungkook’s relief it seems he’s stopped the teasing for now.

“Touché. But really, I’m curious. Why shoot porn with one of your friends?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I needed to work on my portfolio.”

“Could you say you needed to make it… thicker?”

Jungkook has to swallow his bite quickly before he chokes from laughing.

“You can’t make a dick joke while I’m eating a maple bar.”

“Says who?” Taehyung ask, seeming very satisfied with himself.

“Fuck, just…” Jungkook takes a sip of his chocolate milk and playfully kicks his companion under the table. “Sure, I wanted to make my portfolio thicker and Jimin needed a new photographer.”

“That’s fair.” His companion nods, adjusting his scrubs before shoving the entire second doughnut into his mouth.

“What about you? Besides volunteering at the—”

“Can I ask you a question real quick? Sorry to cut you off.”

He chewed and swallowed impossibly fast, it was vaguely impressive.

“Shoot.”

Taehyung’s lips purse slightly as his eyebrows draw together. “Do you guys really refer to me as ‘hot-Taehyung’ or was that just Jimin?”

With the few seconds he’d had to go over the list of possible questions, Jungkook can say with surety that this had not been one of them. Thus he doesn’t have a good answer prepared and resorts to terrible and complete honesty.

“Yes we do, kind of. All of us.”

Smooth.

“Are there other Taehyungs that have qualifiers?” he seems amused by the possibility.

“Nope just you.”

“Cool.”

Jungkook can’t tell if Taehyung’s smile reads as pleased, intrigued, humored, or a mix of the three. He takes another bite of his maple bar, trying to get the pesky blush off of his face that just doesn’t want to go away. It wasn’t even him that came up with that prefix. Maybe he should say that.

“So what were you saying? Before?”

“Right, ah,” Jungkook takes a moment to swallow before he continues. “What do you do besides volunteer?”

“I do lots of random things. I paint murals, design websites, write an advice article for an online newspaper that really shouldn’t be called a newspaper. Oh, I also do a podcast about cloud watching and story telling.”

“A… podcast?”

“Yeah, like an audiobook but it keeps updating? And it’s free,” Taehyung explains before polishing off his chocolate milk in one swig. “Do you like riddles?”

They stay at this dingy Coffee & Donut shop for a few hours and Jungkook only prompts that they leave so the girl behind the register doesn’t have to pretend to look busy anymore. He says this as under-his-breath as he can, just in case she’s actually busy. It’s partially a lie though, a lie of omission.

The overly sweet smell of the store was starting to make him feel sick, considering the mush of carbs and sugar churning around in his stomach. He doesn’t want Taehyung to think he’s having a bad time though, because he isn’t. He’s having a great time, so he keeps this information to himself. The fresh (slightly less smoggy) night air does wonders for his mood and digestive system. The walking helps too.

As it turns out, Jungkook is not good at riddles, but it seems Taehyung likes watching him struggle for a few minutes before getting comically shocked by the answer, not that Jungkook minds. It’s interesting to hear the solution, to see all the pieces fit together, and Taehyung appears to have an endless supply of them.

“Okay, okay. You’ll love this one. You are my brother but I am not your brother. Who am I?”

Jungkook deadpans at the question, pretending not to notice as they take another wrong turn, the third one since they left the shop, considering they aren’t supposed to be making any turns at all.

“Wait, you’re my brother? But I’m not yours?”

“Yeah.”

“But…?”

“That’s the point.”

Jungkook can feel himself frown in concentration. The night air feels cool against his nose and cheeks, just on the cusp of feeling nippy. What? Note to self, never use the word “nippy” again. His heels drag against the concrete of the sidewalk, a habit he should probably kick before he needs to buy new shoes.

“Do you give up?” Taehyung giggles, giving Jungkook a big, boxy smile.

“No, I’m thinking.”

“Your face is so cute when you’re thinking.”

Jungkook flushes, voice cracking, “What?”

Taehyung laughs harder, “I’m serious! It gets all pouty— sorry, right, I’ll let you think.”

“You’re my brother, but I’m not your brother…”

Jungkook can feel the answer on the tip of his tongue, frustrating, like being edged because the phone started ringing.

“I’m your sister!” Taehyung declares way too comfortably for the sentence he’s saying.

Jungkook shoves him, not too hard, but hard enough. The boy with the fiery red hair cackles.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I almost had it.”

“Did you really?”

Pause.

“No.”

They both laugh.

Much to Jungkook’s surprise, the apartment building appears in front of them as they turn one last corner. Yeah, part of him was worried Taehyung was going to lead him into a back alley to be murdered brutally with a rusty pocket knife, but that’s normal right? To have that fear. Jungkook is learning to trust Taehyung though, not that that’s difficult with his bright smile and unconventionally interesting personality (which might sound like an insult but is really a compliment).

Taehyung opens the door to the building and once again gestures for Jungkook to go first. So he leads the way, grumbling in good humor, still pretending to be miffed about the riddle. When the elevator opens, Taehyung gets in first and presses the buttons for the second and third floor. The quiet that has settled over them is pleasant, not awkward, which is new for Jungkook considering how painfully awkward he normally is.

The doors slide open and yeah, he feels a little pathetic for taking the elevator up one floor, but that’s a personal thing. Since they’d just done all that walking and it’s now about three o’clock in the morning after what must have been a long volunteer shift, he’s assuming Taehyung is exhausted. Next time maybe Jungkook should suggest eating Pocky and watching bad late night TV instead.

“Alright this is my stop,” Jungkook announces like he’s in some romcom and he expects Taehyung to kiss him.

“Yes it is,” Taehyung leans against the back of the elevator, looking right at home with his soft smile and messy hair and wrinkled scrubs. There’s a baby pink sprinkle stuck to the left corner of his lips. “Thanks for coming out with me.”

“No problem,” Jungkook steps out, walking backwards to continue to face the boy with the fiery red hair. “See you around?”

“Yeah, see you soon— oh wait. I almost forgot.”

Taehyung steps forward and fits his foot against the closing door, causing it to open again.

“You have my permission.”

His what?

“Your what?”

“My permission. To take candid pictures of me. So now you don’t have to ask.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen in momentary shock, “Ah, thank you. I— wow. I mean, I really appreciate that.”

“No worries. Now get home safe.”

Taehyung winks— yes winks— and smiles, stepping back as the metal doors slide closed, simultaneously sealing their interaction and stamping the moment into Jungkook’s memory with the gentlest thump of the two panels meeting.

He stares at his own blurred reflection for a beat before turning and walking down the hall. There is a one hundred percent chance he’ll question whether or not this actually happened later.

The front door squeaks quietly as it opens, Jungkook’s hoodie pocket feeling a bit lighter without the clump of unnecessarily jingly metal attached to the end of a shabby Iron Man lanyard. He can hear the TV before he can see the living room. The volume is low, most of the voices only an indecipherable muttering. A soft blue glow illuminates room and Yoongi, who has curled up on the couch. He’s got a light blanket thrown over him, probably the result of a last ditch effort before dozing off or a sleepy Namjoon walking around to get water.

It’s weird, being awake at night when Yoongi isn’t. The older boy is notorious for staying up late even when he has to get up at the ass crack of dawn for work. Hoseok once asked Yoongi how he stayed alive with so little sleep to which the older boy replied: power naps and willpower fueled by my hatred for most people and things. He probably got the second part from one of Namjoon’s open mic poetry rants, then changed the context to fit his own cutely grumpy agenda.

Without much thought, almost as if on instinct, Jungkook maneuvers around the coffee table and slips one arm under Yoongi’s knees, the other bracing his back. So blanket and all, Jungkook lifts the older boy bridal style and gingerly sneaks his way out of the living room, only hitting one shin in the process.

Unfortunately, opening Yoongi’s door is a bit of a challenge, and it jostles the sleeping boy awake. He lets out a disgruntled huff, one eyelid cracking open.

“The fuck…?”

“You fell asleep on the couch. I didn’t want you to get a kink in your neck.”

The door swings open slowly as if to accentuate the awkwardness of the situation.

“Well I think you can put me down now.”

“Right.”

Jungkook sets Yoongi on his feet and backs away politely.

“How’s your finger?”

Yoongi pulls the blanket around him like a cape. He look smalls and angry with his bedraggled hair and the dark circles under his eyes, which makes Jungkook want to pat him gently on the head.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi says, then yawns. “I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, goodnight.”

If Jungkook had a tsundere translator, he likes to think there would’ve been a “thank you” somewhere in that conversation, which ends with a door in his face after a grumbled “yeah, g’night.” But with that, Jungkook goes back to the living room to turn off the TV, hits his other shin, and finally returns to his own room to flop onto his bed. It would’ve been ideal to be asleep before his head hit the pillow, but it naturally takes a couple tosses and turns before Jungkook finally manages to drift off.

Technically, that completes day two since Taehyung’s arrival, but it definitely feels like it’s been a week.

Day six PT (Post Taehyung) is a lot less bizarre than it might originally sound.

Jungkook can hear the elevator close behind him as he stops walking, then raises his hand and knocks with a small sigh. The door opens, just a crack.

“Password please?”

“Seriously? Let me in.”

“I’m sorry sir, I can’t do that without a password.”

“Hobi.”

The one eye peaking out behind the door narrows at Jungkook, sizes him up, then squints as the older boy laughs.

“Alright get in here, but the entry fee is—”

Jungkook cuts him off by ruffling his hair affectionately (roughly) and walking past Hoseok into the third floor apartment. It’s crowded, but not in the usual “we tried to shove six boys into a small living room” kind of way.

Upon the first step past the door, the murmur from out in the hallway becomes a louder, distinctive conversation, a conversation with about five voices all trying to shout over each other.

“NOW YOU LISTEN HERE. YOU DID NOT HAVE A FOUR.”

“I HAD A FOUR AND YOU CAN’T PROVE OTHERWISE.”

“SHE DEALT THE CARDS SO SHE SHOULD KNOW.”

“SO SHE’S COUNTING CARDS NOW IS SHE?”

“YOU CAN’T COUNT CARDS WITH THIS IT’S IMPOSSIBLE.”

“THEN HOW DO YOU KNOW I DIDN’T HAVE A FOUR, WOMAN?”

“FRANCIS, YOU CAN EAT MY FRESH BAKED ASS—”

“Language, Ms. Lee,” Seokjin coos from his place mixing drinks and cleaning glasses in the kitchen. Jungkook can tell by his tone of voice that he’s thoroughly amused.

Ms. Lee, a woman who is probably in her late seventies, wrapped in a baby pink crocheted shawl in her wheelchair, turns to give Seokjin a sweet smile, “Sorry dear.”

She then turns back to their game, all huddled around one of the three flimsy collapsable card tables. Jungkook’s never sure what they’re actually playing, only hearing words like “sets” and “runs” being tossed around in various numbers that always sound different. At the other two tables, it appears a few guests are either quietly playing poker with Namjoon as their dealer, or blackjack with Yoongi.

The room smells of moth balls, nature friendly cleaning supplies, and light perfume. It’s an odd mixture, but Jungkook definitely prefers this to Taehyung’s death tea. Speaking of, there’s a small woman maybe in her nineties sitting on the couch next to the boy with the fiery red hair. They seem to be having a calm, quiet conversation. Tasteful jazz plays in the background.

“What can I get you?” Seokjin asks, still amused, as Jungkook takes a seat at the island countertop.

“Do you have any cranberry juice?”

“Sorry buddy, fresh out.”

“Banana milk?”

Seokjin turns around and opens the fridge, placing a carton in front of the younger boy, “On the house.”

They share a quiet laugh.

To the uninformed person, this— being everything going on in the room— might seem like something strange, worth at least one eyebrow raise, but it’s actually pretty normal.

Once a month, typically on the first Friday, Seokjin and Hoseok host a “senior ‘underground’ gambling night.” Hoseok has still not managed to get the acronym SUGN to catch on despite this being the fifth or sixth event. According to Seokjin, the retirement home knows that they bring the residents here (considering they use the facility’s bus). The term “underground” just makes it seem more exciting. No smoking, no alcohol, just a bunch of cute elderly people getting “out of the house” as it were. All of the money they decide to bet simply circulates between them. The House keeps none of it except the small entry fee to cover the drinks and snacks. It wasn’t difficult for the rest of the boys to hop on board from the beginning, considering how much effort Seokjin and Hoseok are putting into it. Besides, free juice.

“Look who finally stopped by!”

The familiar voice makes Jungkook blush up to his ears, especially as Jimin’s hand brushes his lower back. It’s just a greeting, Jungkook tells himself, and is a little relieved when Jimin reaches forward to grab a glass of orange juice. He’d just been making sure Jungkook didn’t move and bump into him. That’s all.

“Sorry I’m late. I lost track of time finishing a project.”

“Was it my next background?” Jimin says quietly, his smile slowly turning into a smirk as he turns his head, making eye contact. He hasn’t moved his hand.

“Y-yeah,” Jungkook nods, then takes a long sip of his banana milk.

Jimin giggles, a pleasant sound amidst the loud talking, arguing, and card shuffling.

“I know it’ll turn out great, Kookie.”

He pats Jungkook’s lower back before leaving with the glass of orange juice, likely delivering it to one of the guests. The retirement home residents always think Jimin is adorable. Probably because he is. Jungkook watches him walk away, then slumps forward.

“He’s not helping, is he,” Seokjin says knowingly, leaning against the small island countertop. It’s less a question than a statement.

Jungkook pouts. Seokjin is the only one of his friends that Knows, unless Jungkook counts Taehyung. Are they friends though? Sure they’ve hung out a couple times and talked, but… Maybe Jungkook should find out the name of his podcast— concentrate.

“No.”

“Why don’t you talk to him about it?”

“Says you,” Jungkook laughs humorlessly. It’s a series of sounds that conveys sadness and, most importantly, empathy.

“Look,” Seokjin starts, placing both hands on the countertop. “Jimin is bi. At least you have a chance.”

“Do you even know what Namjoon’s sexual orientation is?”

Seokjin’s cheeks dust pink. “I mean, he’s never said anything about it. But look at him. How can he not be straight?”

Jungkook glances over his shoulder at Namjoon manning the poker table. All broad shoulders with neatly combed hair and a dimpled smile. He’s still wearing his business suit from work.

“I dunno. You might be surprised,” Jungkook says, shrugging.

The older boy’s reply is underscored by a quiet sigh, “I could say the same thing about you and Jimin.”

Needing to get to his primary SUGN duty, being floating around the room, picking up trash or refilling the little plastic bowls with snacks (because he’s not very good at the whole socializing thing, as previously established) Jungkook concludes the brief conversation with another laugh. But this time it’s genuine, even if a little quiet and doubtful and masked behind a shouted “FRANCIS, YOU’RE A LYING BASTARD.”

Jimin places the glass of orange juice on the coffee table, well within Ms. Piper’s reach. He hadn’t known who she was until Hoseok abruptly decided to switch with Yoongi, choosing to man the door (the furthest away he can get from the elderly woman) instead of dealing for blackjack. He was usually at one of the card tables, utilizing his naturally charismatic charms. If Hoseok made any profit from this, Jimin would think he might be cheating at the game, the way he makes the elderly ladies blush and giggle. But he doesn’t. And how can Jimin blame him for being charming? He does the exact same thing. It’s nice to be the cause of someone’s smile, no matter what gender or age.

Ms. Piper doesn’t acknowledge the glass, but she also seems to be in a deep, quiet conversation with Taehyung. It’s odd, how the two of them get along when someone like Hoseok, who gets along with everyone, is scared to death of her.

Taehyung looks up briefly and gives Jimin an acknowledging smile. He returns it with a nod.

After one last glance around the room to confirm he’s not needed at the moment, Jimin heads down the short hallway to the bathroom. Once he’s closed inside, he takes a deep, shaky breath and sits down on the lid of the toilet. Everything’s okay.

Jimin’s never had a good sense of smell, but he can immediately identify Hoseok’s fruity body wash. Someone left their toothpaste sitting out next to the sink. There’s the quiet drip of the leaky shower head, now audible above the voices in the other room. Beside the shower is the window screen still yet to be replaced since last Sunday.

He pulls his knees up to his chest, the heels of his feet resting on the edge of his improvised seat with a feeble squeak.

It’s been a long week at the office and all Jimin wants is to be able to relax, blow off some steam, maybe get dicked down. Yeah it feels good to fuck someone, but to be on the receiving end? That���s pretty nice too. Lets him focus on his own pleasure a little more, plus there are usually some really good cuddles afterward. What he wouldn’t do to have Taehyung bend him over any flat surface in this apartment and fuck him senseless. Jimin lets out a soft sigh against his thighs as his forehead comes to rest against his knees. The self loathing gnaws at his stomach, unwanted, dismissed.

Taehyung still hasn’t said anything about that rain check, but both of them have been extremely busy, never home at the same time unless sleeping. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck though.

Over the years, Jimin has learned not to expect too much of boys, taking into consideration that he is also male. Foolish, oblivious, proud. He closes his eyes, his mind conjuring up the flash of a camera. Jimin smiles. Him too.

[Next Part]

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[g0ldpainted]

Gladiolus cheating on Fem!S/O

Hey c:

Here’s Gladio for this series! 

1st Part ; 2nd Part ; 3rd Part // Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Prompto cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ignis cheating 1 ; 2 // Ravus cheating 

Words: 3750+

Genre: Angst, heartbreak, betrayal

Spoilers: None

Trigger warnings: Anger, verbally abusiveness, pregnancy, coma, cheating, explicit sexual act depicted briefly

Taming a beast was almost impossible. Gladiolus was such a beast. All the ladies were swooning over him, flirting with him whenever they could. No one cared about the fact that he had been dating his current girlfriend for over 6 years. Actually, the couple was beyond happy, completing each other seamlessly. But Gladio was still an untamable beast.

He was a charmer, couldn't resist flirting back, couldn't reject those females entirely. However, he always stayed faithful. So far at least.

Their relationship had been fairly rocky ever since his S/O fell pregnant. At first, it didn't change their lives all too much.. Until all the complications started. Her pregnancy was far from ideal. Morning sickness, back- and headaches, fatigue, abdominal cramps, high blood pressure - she had it all. Unfortunately, she also suffered from severe swelling. Face, feet, ankles, hands - they all had moments in which their size increased tremendously. After a check-up at her doctor, they diagnosed her with Preeclampsia. Therefore, their pregnancy was one with high risk. She was at high risk of losing her baby if she wasn't being careful. As result, she quit her job immediately. From there on out, Gladiolus was the only one earning money for them. He worked twice as hard, thinking of his future family as motivation.

The first weeks were difficult for both of them. His S/O had to get used to the pain she was almost constantly going through while Gladiolus had to get used to the lack of affection from their side. He was an extremely physical guy. Any and every physical touch was a reassurance to him that he was loved.. But she couldn't give him that. Sex was off entirely. When she was feeling decent, she at least managed to help him with his urges, took care of his not-so-little friend if it was necessary. To say she enjoyed pleasing him would be a lie. The continuous pain drowned her libido and every wish to receive and give pleasure. It was just something she did for him because she knew how important it was to him. The little praise afterward made up for it. He was thankful for her trying to not let her pregnancy affect their relationship too much. Truth was that it still took a huge toll on them. While Gladio was satisfied for those first few weeks, he eventually grew tired of her sloppy blow- or handjobs and started declining them. That she denied him giving her pleasure upset him, too. It eventually stopped feeling like a relationship to him simply because they had no physical contact other than some gentle kisses.

The happiness of expecting their first baby was overshadowed by lack of physical love.

Needlessly to say, they also started having arguments about it. The further she got in her pregnancy, the grumpier he got. Gladiolus even started calling her fat, giving the vibe of that she was completely undesirable. It's true that her weight was fluctuating. Preeclampsia was causing it.. And of course, her pregnancy. While Gladio was still fairly supportive most of the time, he seemed to distance himself more and more. He apologized for his behavior almost daily, regretting his spiteful words greatly, blaming his temper and work for stressing him out for it. She accepted all his apologies for the sake of their unborn baby. All she wanted was for their daughter to grow up in a safe family environment.

By now she was 7.5 months in. Finally at the third trimester. Her doctor was as far as to give her medicine to help her baby grow faster so they could induce labor as soon as possible. Gladiolus S/O was suffering greatly while he was most likely at work.. Or hanging with his friends. He was working as a hunter, it was the most beneficial. 

She just wanted this to be over, wanted to deliver her healthy baby and heal. Her body was exhausted. It was pure luck that she didn't suffer from a stroke or seizure yet because of all the extra stress her boyfriend caused. On the bright side, although Gladiolus was being quite ignorant of his girlfriend's state, he at least always brought her little gifts when he returned from a hunting job.. And he even called her every day if it was multiple-day job. Those moments where what gave her strength to believe in their relationship. 

It seemed to be falling apart at rapid speed - all because she wasn't into sex and instead, groaning about pain. The treatment she received helped but.. Didn't make it better. Her case was apparently very severe, yet no one could explain why. Gladio knew about it, always accompanied her to check-ups, yet he didn't seem to care all too much anymore. At least that's how she felt. 

The more distant he became, the sadder his S/O was. And when he started leaving for partying, her jealousy peaked. She was scared of losing him to someone else. He excused himself by claiming the chocobros wanted to catch up and that all their wives and girlfriends were fine with it - she shouldn't complain. But she hated this. And when she smelled different perfumes on him, she was infuriated. But he shook it off, claiming he met the girlfriends of his bros because they joined them and that it was a shame she didn't show up. Being the loving girlfriend she was, she believed him. But her trust was scraped. 

"Ever since he went out two days ago.. His phone's been vibrating constantly.." his S/O thought to herself, sitting on their couch and rubbing her baby bump gently - it was sensitive as heck, "He's showering.. Maybe I.. Should take a quick glimpse."

Looking around the room to ensure he really wasn't around, she carefully got up. Groaning, she bit her lip hard. The moving of her belly caused slight discomfort and walking on her swollen feet ached. It was another bad day. She was quick to pick up his smartphone. Luckily, Gladiolus didn't put in a code - it unlocked with a simple swipe. At first, nothing seemed suspicious.. Until she went through his recently send messages. Multiple females were in there. 

"That doesn’t mean a lot.. He's always been famous with ladies - he usually blocks their number, though.." she thought to herself, "Maybe he forgot.."

But the second she clicked on each message, her stomach dropped. They were all flirting with him - which she would've tolerated if they hadn't sent nudes. And even videos of them masturbating. One quick glimpse into his phone's gallery was enough to see that he had been interested in a lot of different girls. Tons of nudes greeted her. None of them of her own body - she wasn't even on his phones background images.

"He.. He would've deleted them if he didn't like them.." she whispered, going back to the messages as she started feeling worse.

She ended up finding out that he even demanded those… they had phone sex.

"What are you doing?!" Gladiolus snapped, only a towel wrapped around his lower half.

Jumping from the sudden raised voice, she almost dropped his phone on the floor but caught it last minute.

"Did you go through my phone!?" he shouted, a deep frown present on his forehead as he stomped over to her and tore the phone out of her hands.

"Who are those girls?!" she replied, using all her energy to raise her voice, too.

"That's none of your business!" he shouted in their face, "You don't go through someone's phone!" 

"You're my boyfriend, of course, it's my business who you're sexting with!" she argued, frowning as well. 

"Oh c'mon, it was just fun" he groaned, rolling his eyes.

"They sent you nudes!" she shouted, clenching her jaw as she felt a stinging pain erupting from her stomach - it was because she was too emotional, "You.. Wanted those nudes. And masturbation videos."

"You should be grateful it's only photos and videos - I didn't have actual sex with them even though that would've been tons better than just waiting for your sorry ass" he growled, squeezing the phone in his hands tightly as he stared into his girlfriends eyes, "It's like watching porn and you don't care about that either."

Her eyes widened at that. Was that a threat? A note? It hurt her to know that he was admitting to having phone sex with them and at the same time telling her to be glad he didn't actually sleep with them. Little did she know that he actually lusted for those girls and hoped for real sex with them. The reference to porn made her feel even worse about herself. 

"I don't want you to have any contact with those women" she calmly said, lowering her head slowly.

"And I don't want you to rummage through my phone!" he replied, raising his voice again.

"Go through my phone if it makes you feel better" she whispered, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone, even unlocking it for him.

A picture of them kissing and one of them hugging was her background. A picture of better times.

"Fuck that!" he slapped her phone away, making it fall to the floor with full force.

At his sudden outburst of anger, she started sobbing. Before her pregnancy, she would've been able to deal with it but now that she was in pain, physically weak and going through intense mood swings, she couldn't help herself.

"Don't you love me? Am I not good enough?" she whispered.

"Oh come the fuck on, if I wouldn't love you, I would've left ages ago" he replied, sighing, getting annoyed with them.

"Then why are you looking at other girls? Why are you messaging them with such lewd intentions?" she asked, trying hard to hold back any tears, "I know you have nudes of me, why don't you use those to ma-" 

"You piss me off.. I'll go head out and meet with the guys" he cut her off, turning around and walking off, leaving her standing there. 

"No! I want an answer!" she yelled, storming after him and pulling on his arm, "Now!" 

"Because they're hot, okay? Everything about them is smoking hot and it's a nice change to not be looking at your body all the time!" he yelled back, pulling his arm out of their grip, "You didn't want any physical contact with me, so at least let me have fun on my own! It's not like I'm cheating!"

His ignorance and selfishness finally caused tears to fall. It's been a few days since she last shed tears.. But those were also because of him. He made it seem like this was her fault.. He didn't seem to understand that he body was inflamed and that she was carrying their baby.

"I'm pregnant.." she whispered in defeat, "My entire body hurts.. I'd appreciate if you'd be considerate of that."

Gasping he glared down at her: "Oh, I am! Every single day I work my ass off for you and our daughter. Then I come home and just have more work here because you can't do a thing right - at least let me have my goddamned fun!"

Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned around and headed back to their couch. Her legs were beginning to fail her and her vision was blurring. The way her heart raced was hurting faintly, too. Something was off. She was stressed out.. And hurt from his words. She felt betrayed.

Gladiolus stormed into their bedroom to get dressed, didn't bother about how she was struggling to breathe. Placing both of her hands on her baby bump, she tried to relax - for her daughter. Taking deep breaths, she attempted to make her body relax but her hands started swelling instead. While her boyfriend got ready, she felt pathetic about herself. Her appearance, her disease, her pain. And she was scared, scared of the next weeks. Their doctor already warned them that he'd induce her pregnancy at exactly 37 weeks. 7 weeks were left until that'd happen. Chances were high her body would go into labor sooner, though. One thought lead to the other and she just crumbled on the couch, crying. Although Gladio claimed to be loving her, she didn't believe that. The guy she fell in love with loved her, supported her endlessly.. But this guy was just harmful, angry, upset and inconsiderate.

"I'll leave now" he announced, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pants along with his wallet, not once looking at the crying mess on their couch.

For a few seconds, she didn't say a thing, she couldn't. Right when he was about to close the door, she turned around and looked at him.

"Please don't.." she whined, "I…-.. I d-don't fe… feel good."

"Take a bath or something, I'll be back in an hour or two" he groaned, not even bothered to look at her.

"Pl-..please.. No" she stuttered, wanting to walk over to him but her legs refused to carry her weight.

"See you later" he coldly mumbled, closing the door afterward.

That was the final thing she needed to feel pushed off the edge. This was the first time he didn't even bother to check on her before leaving. She figured she shouldn't have been noisy but she was still going through a risky pregnancy.. She expected him to care. And she also couldn't believe that he didn't apologize about his female contacts. Some may consider it cheating, some don't.. But she did. Those were real people he actively asked for nudes and videos - not someone earning money with it. To be angry about this and highly suspicious seemed legit to her. But she wished she could just turn off her emotions - for the sake of not stressing her baby out.

In those 6 years they had been dating, they sure fought every now and then. Most times, both were too stubborn to give in so their fighting usually escalated. Stuff was thrown around, hateful words were yelled in each other's faces. But it was fine, their makeup sex was incredible. None of them ever cried because of it - but she was vulnerable for now.

"This entire pregnancy has been terrible.. The pain, the fights,.. I didn't think it'd go this way" she thought to herself, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, "He was so happy when he found out.. And now he.. He's not here and he complains all the time."

With each minute, her head felt more like it was about to explode. She had a terrible headache - or even a migraine - and her heart was about to burst from her chest. It all just kept getting worse. But the moment her vision started to blur and her face began to swell up, she knew she had to call someone.

But her phone wasn't in her pocket anymore.

Panicking, she hastily started looking around the area. It took her a few minutes to remember that Gladiolus slapped it onto the floor.

"Shit.. Hopefully it's.. Okay" she thought, slowly getting up, still searching for it.

Eventually, she finally saw it. Her stomach was twisting and turning while she tried to bend down towards it. But without warning, she felt dizzy, lost her balance and fell forward. Luckily, she managed to catch herself before she crashed on her baby bump. But now she was panicking even more.

"Oh god.. That was so close.." she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

After sitting down on her bum, she took her now shattered phone. Unlocking her phone and finding the telephone button was harder than she thought it could be. Not only was her vision becoming worse, moving her fingers was insanely difficult.

"Something's wrong.. Shit" she cursed under her breath.

Finally, she seemed to have found the recently called tab and just clicked on the first name. She couldn't read it, her vision was shaking and was way too blurry. Little did she know that she accidentally face timed her boyfriend instead of just making a simple call. And he picked up. Unintentionally.

"Ugh it's nothing important, ignore it. Keep going, we don't have a lot of time" he ordered the women in front of him to continue giving attention to his not-so-little friend.

Throwing the phone aside, it landed on a pillow.. Perfectly showing off what exactly was going on. Two females were licking and sucking on his dick. He stood before them. They both teased him, fondled with his balls as well. All of them were naked. At first, his S/O didn't understand what was going on.. Didn't want to believe what she thought was happening. But when Gladiolus started moaning.. Her heart finally broke.

Rapidly blinking, her vision improved a tiny bit.. Enough for her to actually see it. Her naked boyfriend face-fucking the females she saw on his phone. They took turns, were both hungry for him. Her headache increased and increased, the pressure on her head eventually feeling unbearable. She couldn't look away, couldn't move either.. Her eyes were locked on the scene.

"Ugh! Fuck, you're amazing" Gladiolus moaned before he came over both their faces.

Without saying a word, he pulled both of them up, kissing each briefly before pushing one down onto her back and the other one on top on all fours. He squeezed her butt with both of his hands before rubbing his shaft along both of their cores, coating himself with their wetness. For a few seconds, he just thrusted in between them, delicately rubbing along their buds to pleasure them, too. They were all moaning softly. 

Meanwhile, his pregnant girlfriend slumped to the side. Her body suddenly fell to the right. She hit her head on the ground. Her left hand was still clutching onto the phone which so happened to fall right in front of her face.

"So many holes to chose from .. Ugh. I wanna claim them all" Gladio proclaimed, running his hands along both of the girls entrances, "I'm going to claim them all.. But where do I start?"

His S/O sobbed, hoping he'd hear - but he didn't. 

"Please.. Ho-home" she whispered, unable to raise her voice and speak properly. 

Again, no one heard. She witnessed how her boyfriend started thrusting into some strange female while fingering the other. Tears ran down her face while her eyes widened. While he was having fun.. She was having a stroke. For a moment, everything hurt.. But then it all stopped. She lost control of her body.

"Harder!" one of the females demanded and he happily obliged. 

Although she lost control of her body.. She was very much conscious of what was happening. She saw it all. She saw how her boyfriend enjoyed taking care of two females at the same time. The slapping sounds, the squishing, the moans, the groans. Everything. It was like she was there, like he was cheating right in front of her eyes.

"I've always dreamed of a threesome with two sexy girls.. Ugh, shit.." Gladiolus admitted, cursing as he increased his thrusting speed.

He held his word and claimed every possible entrance those girls could give. It took forever. He came two more times until he was satisfied and no longer feeling sexually frustrated. All the while his girlfriend was clinging on to her life. She zoned out, just stared at the screen and watched.

"We have to do this again.." one of the girls breathed out, laying on the bed in attempt to calm down.

"Oh yes, please" the other one begged, agreeing.

"We'll see.." Gladiolus shrugged.

"Your girlfriend won't be pleased about this" one of them whispered, cleaning her body off of several juices. 

"Mmh" he agreed, biting his lip hard.. As if he was showing regret. 

"Wasn't she watching this entire time?" the other girl wondered.

"Watching?" he repeated.

"Yeah.." she replied, pointing up towards this phone, "Or is that a screensaver?" 

Once Gladiolus saw his phone and that their facetime call had been going for over an hour, his eyes widened.

"Shit" he exclaimed, quickly picking up his phone, "Can you hear me?" 

She didn't reply, only blinked occasionally.

"Fuck.. Can you smile?" he began to panic, feeling beyond guilty for what he just did now that he saw his girlfriends tear-stained face.

No response. She couldn't move.

"Shit.. Shit shit" Gladiolus repeatedly cursed, "Someone diall 911! She's having a stroke! And she's pregnant!" 

Only one of the girls reacted, threw her phone over to him. He immediately called an ambulance over before he ran home. By the time he arrive, the ambulance already carried her out and the car was ready to drive off. He barely hopped into it.

Once they finally arrived at the hospital, she had already suffered brain damage. To help her body heal and relax, they put her into an induced coma. They had to run quite a few scans to check what exactly happened and give her the best possible treatment. 

"I'm so sorry.. I'm so incredibly sorry.." Gladiolus kept whispering as he sat beside her hospital bed, holding one of her hands between his, "I should've been there. I should've listened to you. This is my fault.. I'm so sorry."

Lucky for them, their daughter was fine. She didn't suffer any damage. His S/O in return lost her ability to walk and her entire right side was paralyzed. The day they woke her up, they realized she also couldn't speak, didn't quite remember how to. She had Aphasia. Her life had changed for the worse. Most days she spent crying - after all, she still had preeclampsia, too. His S/O was now a broken woman, not even slightly resembling who she used to be. But unlike before, Gladiolus supported her. He paid for all her bills, her therapy, medication, and treatment. But most importantly, he spent time with her. 

The second he realized what he had done to the one he sincerely loved, he broke all contact with any other female and deleted all photos that weren't her. He was grateful for the second chance he was given - even though no one could guarantee that she wasn't suffering from memory loss as well and simply didn't remember that he cheated. Gladio regretted what he did just to get some stress relief. He wanted to better himself, become the man she deserved. And aside from that, he wanted to be a great father for the daughter that he almost lost too.

Masterlist ;  1st Part ; 2nd Part ; 3rd Part  // Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Prompto cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ignis cheating 1 ; 2 // Ravus cheating

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