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alphabetboyluvr · 18 days

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HUSH | MYG - TWO

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

premise: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !!

wc: 10k

for more details, pls see the master list (x)

note from holly: if you've read hush over on wattpad, then you've already seen this! sorry!! but this is everything that was on wattpad--the next upload will be 100% fresh hehe

warnings: alcohol, foul language, creepy men in bars, sexting (minimal!! very brief!), yoongi is both an asshole and a good guy, oc and yoongi are dumb!! and argumentative!! we learn a teeny tiny bit more lore for the night that never was!!

the app (x) | the band (x) | part one (x)

minors dni!!!

GOLDEN CLOSET STUDIO Big Hit Ent, Yongsan-gu

"Back again so soon?" Jungkook grins when you traipse into his studio the next morning.

Slumping down onto the sofa with a groan, you get comfortable like it's a second home to you. Only just gone midday, you're exhausted. You'll tell anyone who asks that you went out for a morning run, but you'll be lying through your teeth.

See, what made you tired may have given flushed cheeks, but sadly no cardio was involved. Just some pixels. Words. Another goddamn video call of a bedroom you know so damn well but have never stepped foot within. From his belly button down, you'd recognise your Damocles boys in a heartbeat. Wonder if you'd be able to tell if you saw him in the wild, fully clothed.

You doubt it.

No, what's made you so tired isn't the things that get you up in the morning, but rather the things that keep you up all night.

Or just 'thing'.

A singular.

You're not sure you want to classify him as a person, because currently he's just pixels on a screen - but the images those pixels so often make? The dirty words that form in negative spaces just for you to see?

Yeah. You think that he's too good to be true. Can't be a real man.

"Meeting," you mumble into the cushion of the chair. "You know how many logistics are involved in taking you guys on tour? It's mad."

"Logistics?" He snorts, knowing your job has nothing to do with that side of the business.

"I'm shadowing," you reply. "Jinyu sweet-talked someone she knows in that department. Following one of the planners around for the week."

"Really tryna work your way up, huh?" Jungkook asks, before quietly musing, "Hope Jinyu'll sweet-talk me some time."

He's not wrong. About working your way up, that is. Jinyu will never sweet-talk him.

Big Hit is a great stepping stone - an industry outlier, built from the ground up - but you don't want to be in your brother's shadow for too long.

You fear it'll look like you're complacent; as if you want an easy life that you don't have to work hard for. Get some experience, get a good reference, and get out; that's the plan. Maybe work somewhere overseas, away from the confines of your family name.

You don't entertain Jungkook's musings, instead opting to shuffle a little further into his sofa. It's leather and still smells brand new - not because it is, but because Jungkook is meticulous in his cleaning regimes. Will probably wipe it down after you leave. Is perhaps the neatest rockstar you've ever known - not that you know all that many.

And that's exactly your issue; even if you want to get out of Seokjin's shadow, you've no idea where to turn to. Bright light saturates everything else. Here, you're hidden. Safe. Comfortable.

Well, comfortable except for one particular thorn in your side.

"Get your song sorted with Yoongi last night?" You ask, genuinely curious about it. You're also incredibly nosey, and Yoongi is a dick. What you'd like to hear is that he's annoyed and frustrated, because that's how he makes you feel.

It's selfish to think that way. The album cycle is well and truly underway, and the boys are cramming every spare moment into perfecting it. You aren't too aware of the process, you just know that Yoongi speaks to you even less now that the stress is mounting.

They're made for the stage. Would spend all day every day performing, if it was sustainable. Don't enjoy the downtime - but you think it's because the slowness of it all interferes with their live fast, die young bullshit.

Jungkook shakes his head. "It's missing something. Can't figure out what. We're gonna leave it until after the Europe dates. Hopefully will have found some inspiration over there."

You accept his answer without a response. Know that any advice you could give would be redundant. You don't know the first thing about music production, and think it would be a waste of energy to float ideas for a song you've not even heard.

"Think Yoongi needs to rest," Jungkook muses a little mindlessly. "Was here till stupid o'clock last night."

You mumble a response, and Jungkook takes it as an indication to continue.

"Last email he sent was at like, what? Three in the morning? How his brain could've still been working, I've no idea."

"He's a night owl," you hum, as if it's a new discovery. "Works better that way. It's like you work best after a good sleep. He works best a little sleep-deprived."

"Yeah but how?!"

"I dunno. Brain science. Ask Yoongi. He probably knows. Psychology n shit."

Jungkook just rolls his eyes. He won't be asking Yoongi.

Just like he also won't be asking Yoongi if he wants to join you all for drinks later that evening.

That job? Yeah, that's up to you.

Neither you, Jimin, nor Jungkook wanna ask Yoongi, mainly because you all know he'll just say 'no.' What's the point?

A fierce battle of rock-paper-scissors had been fought earlier that evening, and you'd been the poor sod declared as the loser.

Already half a bottle down, they're drinking in Jungkook's studio (even if Hoseok strictly forbode it the last time they got legless at work (as if his orders have ever stopped them from doing anything they wanted)) when you finally meet them again.

They're getting a headstart on the evening's festivities.

It's nothing special. Just a chance for them all to hang out properly after the Seoul shows.

They rarely ever 'hang out', 'cause work often feels like that anyway. It's only when they take a break that they realise how much they enjoy each other's company. A few days rest from one another is always welcome - but exceed three days, and they start to get withdrawal symptoms.

"Ready to go?" You ask, but are met with curt shakes of their heads.

Jimin passes you the bottle of beer he's been nursing on. As you take a swig, he reminds you, "You've not asked Yoongi yet."

Lips pressed to the rim of the bottle, you roll your eyes. Have half a mind to backwash in retaliation, but you don't fancy bickering this early on in the night.

Shaking your head, you swallow down the froth. "He'll say no."

"Buuuuut," Jungkook sings, as if he thinks he can serenade you into asking Yoongi. "What if he says yes?"

"Well, one of you can ask!" You whine. Yoongi's studio is the last place you want to go to - especially after the messages he sent you last night, warning you about your relationship with Jungkook. "Give him your doe eyes, Kook. It'll work."

A game of rock, paper, scissors is legally binding, though. Jungkook tells you so. Says if you don't go and ask Yoongi, he'll be forced to take you to court.

"I've got Big Hit lawyers," he reminds you.

"Is this a threat?!"

"Yep. Now go ask Yoongi!"

You argue a little longer. Jimin takes two shots during that time. Jungkook interpretive dances whenever you make a compelling statement as to why you shouldn't be the one asking. You frown whenever he does the robot.

And so, mainly to get away from any more of Jungkook's bizarre hip-gyrations, you traipse down to the end of the corridor, where Yoongi's so-called Genius Lab resides.

The wait at his door is awkward. You question yourself, what you'll say, how you should stand. First impressions are everything, and if he's greeted with shitty energy, he'll give it back in return. You know him well enough to know this for a fact.

After a lifetime of waiting (27 seconds, to be exact), there's a mechanical whir of the lock coming undone.

"Hey," you offer a smile as you're greeted with his typical face of thunder. "Been sent to retrieve you. We're going out tonight. All of us."

He knows the plans. Is in the group chat. Ignored the messages for a reason.

His stare is a little frosty but not unkind. Just uninterested. "Can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both?"

You might be deluding yourself, but you think he smiles slightly when he says that.

"Ah, but you can and you will go to the ball, Cinders," you joke, giving him a small curtsy. "All work no play makes Yoongi a dull boy."

You're joking, but you believe it. He's been miserable the last few months. Keeps himself hauled up in his studio when they're not on the road, and avoids social interaction like the plague. It maddens you. How is he gonna write songs about life and the importance of living one, if he won't let himself do the same?

He's hard to read as he sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. Shakes his head, then opens his door a little wider. Encourages you into his space.

A candle burns on his desk, faintly vanilla in its scent, making it feel far cosier than actually is. The room is sullen; dark greys and little else. In fact, it surprises you he's gone for such a pretty cream candle. LED lights that are hidden in the walls glow a deep blue, and it's no wonder he's so miserable. There's no passion in his little pit. No life. Just him, some screens, and the whir of computer fans.

"Will you give something a listen?" He asks, quite clearly seeing you as a last resort - but when you hit rock bottom, the only direction you can go in is up. He knows you're not musical, not like Jin, but perhaps he needs the ear of a consumer, not a creator. "Been wracking my brain trying to think of what this needs. Have listened to it so many times that nothing sounds right anymore. I just- Could you?" He pauses. Looks quite uncomfortable when he adds, "Please?"

You assume the file up on the central screen is the song he's been working on with Jungkook, so you oblige. Kick your shoes off and leave them by the mat. It's been a while since you've been given the luxury of access to the Genius Lab. You used to know the code.

Things with Yoongi used to be different, though.

Not much has changed within his four dark walls since then. He's gained a new painted canvas in the corner of the room, stacked behind the existing ones. It's deep navy blue. Sort of like him, you think. The blue continues. Illuminates his work area. No wonder he never sleeps. The mood lighting is cold. Alert. Is bound to fuck with his brain.

There are more speakers than you can fathom, and switchboards you can't even begin to understand. The programs that Yoongi's running on his computers are familiar, though. You've seen them enough times to get a rough idea of the composition. Can see tabs labelled for Jin's vocals.

Yoongi turns his chair as the door clicks shut, automatic lock whirring into place. There was a time when that sound would have excited you. Not for any lewd, scandalous reason - just for the fact there used to be a time, many moons ago, when you thought Min Yoongi was the hottest man to have ever graced the earth.

And can you blame yourself?

His midnight hair gracefully frames his face, perfectly waved, dark eyes stark against his pale complexion. His skin is dewy, cheeks a little puffy from his lack of sleep and the fact all he has in his system is an iced americano and blue Powerade - yet still, his features are sharp. A white shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, dainty bracelets sitting on his pretty wrists.

Every bit the heartthrob, he's only gotten better with age - but you've grown up, too. Are wiser now. Understand that devastatingly handsome men will always inevitably devastate you, too.

It's for that reason Min Yoongi doesn't bother you in the same ways that he used to. That, and the night that never was.

As you said, devastatingly handsome men will only ever devastate you, too. He's proven that point already.

He points to his chair. "Sit."

The way he's so demanding with his tone annoys you. You shake your head. Choose to stand. "It's cool. Just play the song."

You don't mean to be so sharp. So curt. You're just thinking about how unbearable he's been recently - especially last night. He'd left you on read. Obviously wasn't happy with your response, not that you care.

"Please don't be difficult," he says softly. "Just sit so you can listen properly."

Why your stature could possibly impact your ears and their ability to listen, you'll never know - but you don't argue. As much as Yoongi's contempt for you these days annoys you, you don't want to make it any worse than it already is.

The leather of his chair is warm from his perch. Kind of nice how despite his cool demeanour, he's always a little toasty. He brings the heat of Daegu with him wherever he goes.

"I'm all ears," you tell him, and watch as he presses down on the play button.

"It's not the full song," he says over the melody of an upbeat track. "You'll know the bit I mean though. It's like, not bad, but-"

"Yoongi, shush," you smile, making sure you catch his eye as you do so. Don't want him to think you're snapping. You just wanna hear the sections he's uncertain about in context with the rest of the song.

Quiet as the track begins to echo out, there's an uncharacteristically quaint piano faintly guiding the track. You know he plays, but it's rare for it to be a focal part of the songs he creates.

You understand immediately which section Yoongi's having trouble with - not because it sounds bad, just because the drop before the final chorus doesn't hit quite right. It builds and builds but the arrival at the final chorus is underwhelming.

"Rewind it a bit," you say, wanting to hear it again. Confirm that it's the right part.

Yoongi does as you ask, leaning over you slightly, and says, "Somethings off, right?"

Nodding, you listen for a third time. "Take away the guitar," you say.

He does. It's better, but still not right.

"Maybe you've overcomplicated it?" you muse, thinking that he needs to strip it back entirely, but not wanting to offend him.

"Hmm," he hums. "You think?"

He mutes a few more layers on the track. Plays it again. It's getting there.

"Better, right?" you ask.

He nods as he stands up straight, listening to it over again. Frowns. "Still not quite there."

"I think it might benefit from some distance," you suggest. "Come out with us tonight. Get your mind off this track. Might even get some inspiration."

Shaking his head, he watches as you stand and head towards the door. He's not been out with you since the night that never was. Doesn't enjoy the prospect of risking it all after a couple of drinks inevitably turns into a couple of bottles again - of which he knows it will. If you and Jimin are together, it will be messy. Just how it goes. Throw Jungkook and Tae into the mix? Disaster waiting to happen.

"Look," you sigh. "I know it's not really your thing - but the rest of the boys are game. They all want you there. Just think about it, okay?"

He purses his lips together. Smiles, and turns to face his computer screen once more. "Thanks for your help."

And just like that, you're dismissed. Considering the way he'd messaged you about Jungkook the day before, it went pretty well, you think. Try not to dwell on the fact he couldn't be less interested even if he tried.

It's funny, 'cause as Yoongi stews in his chair, rocking ever so gently, he sighs. Shakes his head. Grumbles to himself quietly: "'they all want you there'... but do you want me there?"

The boys aren't so disappointed when you return with no Yoongi behind you. They all knew what his answer would be, and only sent you so they didn't have to deal with his rejection.

"Took your time," Jimin notes.

You shrug. Deadpan. "Yeah, sorry, got distracted. Too busy shagging him."

"Really?!"

"No, of course not," you laugh, as if it's the funniest suggestion in the world. You sort of think it is. "Nah, he just wouldn't be convinced."

And so it comes as a surprise to everyone when Yoongi shows up at Jimin's place a couple of hours later with a bottle of whisky in hand.

"Shut the fuck up," is all he says as he walks into an absolute commotion, practically everyone in the room elated by his decision to join in. He hides his smile poorly, occasionally letting his teeth show despite his protests.

From the sofa, you catch his eye. Nod. He bunches up his face a little. Nods back - but is quickly distracted by Jimin holding up a clear shot glass filled with fuck knows what. You, too, find yourself distracted by chatter with the rest of the boys and a couple of the girls from the artist liaison team.

In the corner of the room, your phone is plugged into a charger. It's been there since you arrived. You've no need to check it - but you can never leave it too long.

You smile, butterflies kissing your tummy and making their way through your body when you eventually check it.

D4m0cl3s: got a work thing tonight, so probably won't be able to message much gonna be thinkin' about u tho don't miss me too much, clemmie x

The smile is hard to hide. You blame it on the alcohol.

Kind of like how Yoongi smiles half an hour later when he checks his own phone.

Cl3m3ntin3: been a busy bee today, sorry :( all work, no play? :( it'll make you dull, damocles boy x

But then he watches you as you laugh with Jungkook about something trivial. Reads over his messages again. Shakes his head.

Remembers you trying to convince him to join for the evening. How you'd called him Cinders. Told him that all work and no play made him dull.

His heart thuds in his chest. He swallows harshly. Pours a whisky. Swallows that, too.

Breathes a sigh of relief as he taps through a message - 'it's a play thing for work. promise i'll behave x' - and watches your phone after it's marked as 'delivered' in his chat feed.

Your phone is screen-up on the kitchen counter, just within his line of vision. It doesn't light up. Doesn't vibrate. Receives no message.

"Thank fuck," he mumbles, the sinking feeling in his chest lifting as he grabs a fresh whisky.

He quickly walks away from the scene of a crime that never was. Sort of like the night that never was. Is so pleased, in fact, that he's happy to sit beside you on the sofa as Jungkook sets up a drinking game with Jin.

Silly, really, how a few drinks seem to make him forget the concept of 'do not disturb' mode.

"Hey," you smile and he comes to sit down. "Glad you made it."

"Me too," he nods, lips thin, chin dimpling as a shy smile graces his face. He's a little whisky tipsy. Doesn't feel the need to keep such a strict distance from you, now.

"To a good night," you raise your glass to him, and he reciprocates. Clinks them together.

"To a good night."

STAIRWAY BAR Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-Gu

♪ // You First (Re: Remi Wolf)- Paramore

"You're never gonna be this young and this hot again," Jimin slurs after a few too many lemon drops. It's his third time making this point, because it's the third time you've shooed away a guy trying to make a move on you.

They've all been perfectly fine. Nice enough guys, you're sure, but you aren't interested in random hookups. The night really isn't about that. All you want to do is let your hair down with the boys you've known for most of your life.

As Jimin whines about the fact no one is ready to move onto a club yet, bored of the bar, part of you considers the novel idea that one of the men in your rejection pile could have been your Damocles boy. A funny thing to think about, really. He did say he was busy tonight. Said it was for work, but everyone knows how rowdy work dinners can get after the boss leaves.

He could be here. Could have his tail between his legs. Could be looking at you right now, without a clue.

The reality of that wouldn't please you, for it would mean he's out there searching for other women.

While he'd be well within his right to, you selfishly find that that you don't want him to. In fact, all you wanna do is send him a message. Let him know you're thinking of him. That you wish you were at home right now, alone in your sheets with nothing but an internet connection and that damn app to keep you company.

You're with friends, though. Can't open the app without fear of endless ridicule - and not to mention the fact your brother is with you. Not worth it.

As you come to join them, a fresh drink in your hand, you're easily distracted. Are brought back to reality by your favourite people. Neon lights on the ceiling, and relics of time spent in the bar pinned to the walls. Photobooth pictures, foreign currency. Life is embedded into the seams of this place, and it's reassuring, in a way. Makes your dependency on your Damocles boy a lot less intense. You can forget him. Live life. Neglect to check your phone.

"Objection!" Jungkook chimes, following you and Jimin to the corner booth of the bar where the rest of your friends sit. "Older women are, like, so hot. So damn hot. Damn." And then he's thinking to himself. Brows furrowed, pouty lips whistling out a hearty sigh as he shakes his head. Thinks about Jinyu. A couple of the older women at the record company. About Jimin's mother. Laughs. Nods. "Yeah, older women are where it's at."

Both of you look at him with an air of confusion, and yet neither of you question it.

"What did I miss?" Jin beams when he rejoins you, as a member of the bar staff follows him with a bottle of Ciroc resting in an ice bucket. Another staff member will soon bring you cans of drink to use as mixers, but you know damn well these boys will be shotting it down straight.

The bottle won't be on the house, but you know Jin will have charged it back to the company. Will get a bollocking from Hoseok the next time he's in the office. Doesn't care, cause he knows the band makes the record company more money than anyone else on the roster at the moment. The way he sees it, it's their money anyway.

"Jungkook's just declared his love for older ladies," Taehyung deadpans from the sofa opposite yours. "Nothing new."

"Better older than younger," Jin asserts, playfully pushing against your forehead as he walks past you and back to his seat.

As much as you're your own person, you're still his little sister, and the rest of his unruly group of friends will do well to remember that.

Jungkook snorts. Throws a smirk in your direction. "I can make exceptions."

"And I can get away with murder, Kook," Jin assures him - and he's probably right. As much as they like to play into the rock and roll lifestyle, they've got power. Fame. Something that hides them just as much as it projects them. "Don't even think about it."

There's laughter and chatter amongst everyone at such a declaration, but you can't help but wonder if a certain pair of eyes glanced your way upon hearing that.

It's not like Yoongi doesn't know Jin harbours such feelings. Told you the exact same thing, once: that Jin'd murder Jungkook if anything ever happened between the pair of you.

But you also remember what came next.

Even if it's never been spoken about since, you know that remembers, too. The way he refused to reply to your last text is testament to it.

See, he's been avoiding you since long before you got your little job with the company. Would turn down plans if you were in attendance. Declined invites to dinner, and bailed on drinks. Once you started working in such close proximity, it was harder to keep his distance, and so he built up walls.

They're steep, and they're topped with barbed wire. Impenetrable, or so it would seem.

Climbing has never been a strong point of yours, and scaling walls doesn't feel like a pastime you'd enjoy very much, so Yoongi's safe distance from you is kept. He's feline, in that way; how he'll stalk up trees and sit in amongst the branches, peering down at you. Out of reach, holding all the cards.

Flicking your eyes across to him, you find him embroiled in conversation with Namjoon. He's laughing, which admittedly does make you smile. It's been so long since you've been afforded the luxury of witnessing such a thing.

But you're torn from your thoughts by a sudden, sharp tug on your wrist, and don't even realise Jimin is dragging you out of your seat until you're already stumbling behind him. With a shrill yelp and soft giggle, you let him pull you to the stairs that lead up from the basement bar to the earthly realm above.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, as if you have any choice in the matter. He's got a death grip on you. You're coming along whether you like it or not. "The rest of them are being boring. I wanna dance."

"Maybe I was enjoying being boring!" You argue just for the sake of it, tapping at your pockets to make sure you've still got your phone with you. Not for any particular reason. Just to be safe. Totally not because you fear losing your only contact with your virtual lover. Nothing like that at all.

"Tough," Jimin asserts, not caring where you both end up just as long as there is a dancefloor and a dark corner.

It isn't for any sinister reason, but just because he isn't looking to be the life and soul of the party. His face isn't recognised in the same way that the other boys are, but it doesn't matter. He attracts attention regardless. Goes with the territory of having a face like his. Irresistible to men and women alike. You're yet to meet anyone who doesn't think he's the most beautiful man alive - though Jin certainly does take issue with such a title being awarded to anyone else but him.

But just like Jin, there's a magnetism about Jimin. Moths to a flame, the rest of the boys follow suit and head up towards the street. The entire area code is a cluster of bars and hole-in-the-wall food joints. It's made for this time of the night, when the clouds are shielding the eyes of the moon from all sorts of sin, just a few stray stars guiding the way.

Light pollution bleeds upwards and out. Even if you know the stars are there, you can't see them - and it's not like you get the chance to check either way, for Jimin's already pulling you down the stairs to another basement bar.

This one is larger - two stories. Quieter on the first floor, it's the second level where he wants to be.

A planner in both professional and personal life, even though he seems erratic and all out of order, Jimin has everything under control. Knows the managers of most (if not all) of the bars on this street. Called a favour in this afternoon for one of the downstairs booths, just adjacent to the dancefloor, to be roped off & reserved. Knew that some of the boys would, in his mind, be 'boring', but still wanted everyone together. It's the best of both worlds. He can dance, and they can talk, or whatever they wanna do.

♪ // Desert Eagle - Silica Gel

Min Yoongi doesn't dance. He drinks. He observes. He watches the debauchery unfold from a safe distance, much like he does with you. Sometimes - not always - he thinks. Ponders. Wonders if maybe he's wasting his time by not indulging in the same way other people do. If he's missing out. Considers perhaps his friends are right to revel in such mindless frivolities.

He doesn't debate his choices often, but as he gets comfortable in this new place, he can't help it. Thinks word must have gotten out about their planned attendance, 'cause he notices far more eyes on them than normal. Far more women vying for their attention. Men, too. Whether it be sex or status, their intrigue is always fuelled by something.

The rest of the boys revel in it.

Yoongi doesn't care for it - but there's a reputation to uphold. A brand image that being spotted in clubs and getting up to no good only helps. Seals them as the real deal. Gets them out of the bracket of 'posers' or manufactured, not that it really fuckin' matters.

There are two girls to each of them. Supply and demand. There aren't enough of The Scouts to go around, but people will share. Will take all they can get. Sharp eyeliner, pretty hair, the girls all have their wits about them, and it's potentially the worst part of it all - they're making the conscious, informed choice to lower themselves to a standard well beneath their worth.

The club stinks of sticky liquor and smoke, but beneath the veil they're all wearing the same perfume. Whatever's currently being marketed as 'irresistible' to men. Was vanilla a few years ago. Yoongi is certain it's something muskier now, but isn't sure what. Makes no difference to him.

There's only one perfume he knows he really likes, and has trained himself to despise it by association.

It's a shame that he hasn't trained himself to stop looking in your direction whenever he thinks of you. Is part of the reason he doesn't like drinking around you. Makes such stupid mistakes. His malevolent mask fails to hide him. The facade slips.

Tongue resting in the corner of his mouth, he doesn't realise he's staring. Eyes dark as they watch you with Jimin, Yoongi wonders if you've always had that tattoo just above your elbow. It's small, and dainty. Hard to make out from where he is, but when your arms are in the air, he's fixated on it. Thinks it must be new.

But then your arms drop to rest on Jimin's shoulders, and he's reminded of what you look like when you're all hot and bothered. Reminded of that night. The one that never was. Haunted by the rivulet of sweat that had trickled down your skin in a sauna that neither of you had any business being inside; just you and him in a silent descent into sin, and the smirk on your lips as his eyes had followed the droplet down your body.

His attention is yanked from you when an ice cube lands in his lap. Glacing across to the direction it came from as he pushes it to the floor, Yoongi scowls at Jungkook. "The fuck was that for?"

"Remember the rules," Jungkook smirks. "Look, but don't touch."

"Wasn't fuckin' looking," Yoongi sneers, completely ignorant of the women vying for his attention. "Was just thinking Jimin needs to to sober up. Man's a state. And unlike you, I wouldn't touch her if humanity depended on it."

"I'm a man of the people," Jungkook teases. "If repopulating the earth was my duty, I'd do it. Can't believe you wouldn't."

"She's got where she is today through sheer nepotism and audacity alone," Yoongi counters. "Doesn't have the kinda genes you'd wanna repopulate the earth with."

"Foul," Taehyung laughs. He's the only one of the boys without women hanging off him. Is stern and authoritative in his rejection of their advances; not yet married but wears a ring around his finger to let them know he's deadly serious. Landed himself in hot water a few months back after photos of him talking to a girl outside a bar - no matter how innocently - circulated online. A bad angle and misrepresentation of events had almost decimated the one thing he cares about more than the band: his relationship. Refuses to ever let it happen again. "Absolutely foul, Yoongi. You know you don't mean that."

"He just needs to get laid," Jungkook chimes in. "Has been celibate for so long he's forgotten how good sex is. Used to be a time he'd fuck anything willing with a pulse-"

It's not untrue. He was reckless in his youth - but aren't we all?

"Yeah, and then I grew up, Kook," Yoongi says with little to no emotion, getting to his feet. Taps his pocket to check for his phone, and then taps the other for his wallet. All there. "Should try it."

When Yoongi looks back up to the crowd, you're gone. He rolls his eyes. Shakes his head. Is almost mentally berating you, as if you've done something wrong - but you haven't, and he damn well knows it.

Perhaps that's the most frustrating part of it all: everything falls back on him. The awkwardness. The cold shoulders. The night that never was. If he would have just made more sensible choices back then, things could be easier now.

It's not that things are hard, as such - just that they aren't how they used to be. Rose-tinted glasses, and all that.

Over by the bar, there's a haze around you: clouded judgement, misted intentions.

The smallest things put a smile on your face, thanks to the alcohol in your veins. Could be the song that's already been played three times coming on yet again. Could be witnessing some random guy get pied by every single girl he approaches. Could be the way your vodka orange takes like juice. Anything and everything feels light. Airy. Breezy.

"What's so funny?" Some guy asks, leaning in a little closer to you - and just like that, your mood is soured. You're not here to make friends, but rather spend time with your pre-existing ones, and judging by the look on his face, he's hoping for a little more than friendship.

"Oh, nothing," you smile politely, crossing your arms over your chest as you angle your body away from his. Hope that he'll get the message.

He does. Just doesn't like it very much.

"No need to be a bitch," he sneers under his breath just loud enough for you to hear.

Normally, you'd leave it. Let him have his little tantrum. Be a big baby.

But you were in such a good mood, and you're annoyed that he's ruined it.

Wanna ruin his, too.

Snapping back to face him, you're about to launch into a tirade, but you come face-to-face with a chest that looks far too good in a simple T-shirt and find yourself faltering, instead.

Yoongi looks down at you, eyes dark, scowl ever-present. Says nothing. Just nods. You think he's asking if you're okay - so you nod back. Won't get into a debate over the fact you were perfectly fine, and have no issue asserting your boundaries with strangers.

Shoulders broad, the guy who had been bothering you is entirely eclipsed by Yoongi.

Glancing across to the bar staff, Yoongi nods. "Hibiki." Glances down at you. Checks the colour of your glass. It's obscured by the bar lights, but he knows it isn't dark enough to be coke, and remembers your order from before things got complicated. Figures some things haven't changed. Looks back towards the server. "Vodka Orange." Passes over his card. Says nothing to you. Just keeps his eyes on yours.

There's a subtle blush dusting his cheeks. The heat, you think. It's unnoticeable for the most part, but sometimes the lights hit him just right, and you're reminded of how warm he can be. How inviting.

He's always been impressive. Taller in sheer presence than he is in stature. Even back in high school, his nature was domineering. Respected. Lips gently parted, you're unable to move. Suddenly, nothing is funny anymore. It's heavy. Thick. Suffocating. You're deaf to the bass of the music that thumps through your body. Ignorant of the people moving around you.

But then Yoongi's being offered his card back, and Jimin bounds on into you like a lost puppy finally finding its owner.

"For me?!" Jimin exclaims as the drinks are slid across the bar, passing the vodka orange to you and picking up Yoongi's whisky for himself.

Shaking yourself from the shackles of Yoongi's stare, you look down. Realign your mind. Glance back over and nod a silent thank you - but then you turn and leave the drink by the bar. Head for the bathrooms. Refuse to look back, so utterly perplexed by what on earth just happened.

In a frank, factual recount of the events, Yoongi just stood beside you and ordered a drink.

In your hysterical, deluded mind, Yoongi just stood beside you and opened the skies; let a flood of water torrent down. Drowned everyone in the process save for you - except you're the one gasping now as you stare yourself out in the bathroom mirror.

Phone still on don't disturb, you pull it from your pocket and check just in case he's thinking of you.

Not Yoongi, no. You push him out of your mind. Think of your Damocles boy. He's the one you wished had joined you at the bar. The one you've been yearning for all night.

And sure enough, he has been thinking of you, too.

D4m0cl3s: there are some weirdos out and about tonight, clem keep yourself safe for me, okay?

It's strange, how guilt needlessly creeps in so silently that you don't even realise it's there until an invisible hand is over your mouth. You're suffocating again, or so it would seem. Drowning, maybe. Perhaps Yoongi wasn't saving you at all; he was dragging you down instead.

You wish you were at home. Wish you weren't so drunk. Wish you could think straight. Wish your balance was a little better - but it's not, and as you try and think of a response that goes beyond 'i miss you' or a 'you should be here', you stumble a little. Lose your footing. Grab onto the sink to stop yourself from falling over entirely, only to send your phone crashing to the floor.

"Fuck," you curse, scrambling down to get it, only to be greeted with a fracture splintering right over the top of your front camera. Pulling up the app, it's very quickly clear that the camera absolutely ruined - but for the most part, your screen is okay. "Fuck."

You think it's a sign: go home.

Even if you're drunk, and you're in the business to make some bad decisions, you know that your Damocles boy is right. There are some weirdos about tonight, and as fucked up as it all seems, 'safe' feels a lot like a message thread with a man you've never met.

Instead of replying to him, you open up your thread with Jimin. Let him know you're going home. Make your way up the stairs and out of the bar without looking back. It's rare for you to cry when you drink, but it kind of feels like you will now, and for no good reason. Just had a little too much, that's all.

The light around fades from the invasive red of the club into the murky blue hues of the streets.

And yet, there's a lovely little red flag waiting by the top of the stairs, unaware of your decision to head home, too.

"You leaving already?" You chirp in surprise upon realising who it is.

The sound of your voice, and the fact it's addressing him, seems to take Yoongi by surprise when he turns to face you.

"I, uh," he pauses. Looks down. Seems to be a little flustered. You wonder what's going inside that head of his, but when his eyes meet yours again, you decide you're better off not knowing. "Can't be home too late. I'm sorta seeing someone. Gotta get back for them."

"Oh," you say quietly.

I'm seeing someone.

"Yeah."

It's not like it matters, it's just that you never expected to hear him say those words. He's married to his music. Always has been. Spends his nights in the studio, not sleeping next to someone else.

Or perhaps he doesn't anymore. Just goes to show how little you know of his life these days.

"That's nice," you chirp, swallowing down your surprise. "Yeah. That's really nice, actually. I'm pleased for you."

In a way, it makes sense. Perhaps his strangeness lately has been less to do with you and more to do with himself and the fact he genuinely doesn't care about the past anymore. Thoughts of the night that never was are genuinely reserved for your brain, and your brain alone. Have no place in his. His warning about Jungkook was due to lessons learned by him.

"And you?" He asks, noticing the slight discomfort in your tone. He wouldn't normally entertain such frivolous conversations with you, but he's only human. Alcohol still gets him a little loose-lipped, too. "What's new in your love life?"

You laugh, now. Good fuckin' question. Genuinely don't know how to describe your Damocles boy, or if you even want to.

"Nothing new."

"No?"

"No," you smile in such a way that Yoongi knows you're not telling the whole truth - but who is he to pry?

"Well," he says, then coughs to clear his throat. Look out to the street ahead of you both. It's full of drunk revellers, and you're certain at least half of them will have The Scouts in their playlists. Yoongi's position in the band means he's never front and centre, so no one notices him like this. If they do, they're being incredibly discreet about it. "I'm sure you'll meet someone soon."

"Maybe," you shrug, knocking your shoulder against his arm. "Be easier if you didn't stand in front of every guy who shows an interest in me."

"It was one guy," he laughs, knowing not to take you too seriously. "And you know he was a creep. Was just standing in for your brother."

"Yeah," you nod, not caring to counter him, or to remind him how fucked up it is to refer to himself like that. Folding your arms over your chest, you're regretting the lack of a coat. Had left it back at pre-drinks, because a little bit of liquor and you suddenly think you're a child of the sun. "You're right. Thanks for that."

"No worries," Yoongi shrugs. Is about to offer you his jacket, when a taxi rolls up. "This yours?"

"Yeah," you nod, recognising the number plate from the taxi you'd ordered via an app when you'd been in the bathroom. "Want a lift?"

He shakes his head. "Gotta head to the studio first."

"Yoongi, you're drunk," you laugh. "What did I tell you about all work?"

"Yeah, yeah, dull boy," he laughs too - but it's not you he's thinking of as he recites it. It's the girl he's heading home for that enters his mind, and how she'd said something similar. Shaking his head, he's confused at how easily thoughts of her intertwine with how easy it can be to joke with you. Puts it down to the alcohol. His head's a mess. "Inspiration doesn't wait. Let Jimin or someone know when you're home."

"Get in the cab," you insist at his need to be difficult. "I'll route it past the studio. Inspiration doesn't wait," you imitate a little childishly, which does get him smiling. "Better to get to it quickly, no?"

He looks around. Looks a little uncomfortable. You don't take it personally. He looks like this a lot of the time around you. Even before it all got weird.

Eventually, he sighs. Relents.

"Route it to yours," he says. "I'll carry on to the studio."

"Studio is closer," you tell him, knocking your head to the side, pulling open the door. "C'mon. The driver will leave if you don't hurry up."

"And Jin'll kill me if you get stolen," he reminds you, as if that would be likely to happen. Even if the taxi driver was a creep, there are cameras everywhere in places like this. You're as safe as can be. "You first. Non-negotiable."

"You're a tough bargainer," you hum with narrowed eyes. He is at least here, and not walking in the cold. Would have to cross the river to get to the studio, and the thought of any of them drunkenly walking along it alone scares you. "Fine. But you better not get stolen, either. Twitter would have a meltdown- no, Twitter would kill me if you get stolen."

"Shut up," he laughs. Knows The Scouts have a fanbase that could scare even political leaders into submission, if they really wanted to. "They don't even know who you are."

But Yoongi is forgetting who your brother is. Forgetting that there's a good reason why Jungkook has 'look but don't touch' etched into his brain. Forgetting that there are Twitter accounts dedicated to posting updates from your socials, just for a glimpse of The Scouts.

And as you let silence simmer into the taxi, not caring to keep up a conversation, you're none the wiser that those exact fan accounts are currently screaming into the void.

The Yoongi-dedicated update accounts, too.

In fact, the entire app is on fire - and it's not gonna be an easy one to put out.

03:31AM

D4m0cl3s: you still out, clem?

Cl3m3ntin3: why? miss me?

D4m0cl3s: never

Cl3m3ntin3: hmmm well in that case, yes i am x

D4m0cl3s: i think you're lying you answered far too quickly

Cl3m3ntin3: i think you should just admit that you miss me and u just caught me at a good time :/

D4m0cl3s: but i don't? and ur nose must be soooooo big pinocchio

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah you do you've missed me sooooo much tonight, havent you? bet you've been all mopey just thinking about me aaaaaaall night me & my proportionally sized nose x

D4m0cl3s: dunno what you mean

Cl3m3ntin3: well, are you home?

D4m0cl3s: almost

Cl3m3ntin3: not even home yet and already texting me... but you don't miss me? you're lucky you've got such a nice cock i wouldn't let your lies slide so easily if you didn't

D4m0cl3s: so you're only with me for my cock?

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm not with you

D4m0cl3s: ouch noted

Cl3m3ntin3: you're the one who refuses to have me, remember?

D4m0cl3s: you know it's not like that, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: i know, babe i'm just fucking with you figuratively (sadly) i'm with friends though - i'll let you know when i'm alone, alright?

D4m0cl3s: don't worry about me enjoy your night trouble message me in the morning, yeah?

Cl3m3ntin3: if this is a ploy to make me message you first, it wont work

D4m0cl3s: finei 'll message you

Cl3m3ntin3: keen

D4m0cl3s: you love it

Cl3m3ntin3: suuuure i do

D4m0cl3s: stay safe, babe drink water before bed

Cl3m3ntin3: you wanna drink some clementine juice before bed?

D4m0cl3s: i dont think they make clementine juice and no you know the rules sleep off the alcohol first then send me pictures of that gorgeous cunt in the morning, yeah?

Cl3m3ntin3: and what will i get in return?

D4m0cl3s: the video i've just taken of myself stroking my big hard cock just for you

Cl3m3ntin3: fuck send it now? pls x

D4m0cl3s: keen and no x

Cl3m3ntin3: c'monnnn :(

D4m0cl3s: in the morning, baby just know that i'm a little drunk but so fuckin' hard

Cl3m3ntin3: no whiskey dick? i'm impressed

D4m0cl3s: i'm thinking about you nothing will ever stop me from getting hard when im thinking about you

Cl3m3ntin3: watcha thinkin about? gimmie specifics x i wanna touch myself

D4m0cl3s: that pretty cunt of yours how fuckin' wet you get god i wanna fuck you nice and slow NO FUCK STOP TEMPTING ME YOU SIREN

Cl3m3ntin3: 🙁

D4m0cl3s: in the morning

Cl3m3ntin3: you promise?

D4m0cl3s: i promise, baby go spend time with your friends message me if you need anything

Cl3m3ntin3: your dick?

D4m0cl3s: anything other than that you'll get it in the morning, clemmie promise x

D4m0cl3s is offline

GENIUS LAB Big Hit Ent, Yongsan-gu

"All good?" Yoongi hums as the door to his studio clicks shut.

He'd left the door on the latch so you could get back in when you went to the bathroom. Could have just given you the code, but he didn't want you to think he'd be making a habit of this. It's a limited-time offer. Not one that can be redeemed whenever you like. It's now, and now only.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, pulling on the back of the spare desk chair Yoongi had rolled up beside his. You don't look at him, just at the screens as you tell a little white lie. "Just let Jimin know I was okay."

Yoongi grunts some sort of agreement, but doesn't vocalise a response as such.

It's not like a complete subversion of the truth. A text has been sent to your group chat. The one with just Jungkook and Jimin. No one else needs to know your business, as far as you're concerned.

It's just that a few more texts have been sent to your Damocles boy—but that's none of Yoongi's business. You're sure he wouldn't care to know.

You're also sure he's regretting the request for help bestowed upon you on the ride back. He'd mentioned the song he was going to work on, and you'd offered to lend an ear again.

It's not an unheard-of thing. There are a couple of tracks on the last album that have been tweaked as a result of your ear, including their biggest single. You're not listed in the credits, but you never asked to be. Was just helping out a friend—even if said friend then decided to become an asshole when they started making a name for themselves.

You're tipsy, and so is Yoongi. It's easier to forget how fraught things have become when you're like this. You wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't had a few too many drinks.

You also probably wouldn't be trending all over twitter, but you're still blissfully unaware of this.

"Same track as before, right?" You ask, kicking your shoes off to get a little more comfortable on the chair.

Again, words fail Yoongi. You're forced to decipher his small noises, 'cause it's all he tends to offer you. It's not like it's a uniquely you issue—the boys have learned to speak in Yoongi-code, too.

"Okay, play it from the start," you tell him. "Show me what we're working with."

There's a cautious nature to the way Yoongi works. So preoccupied with creating perfection, he hates letting people hear his work before it's reached his self-imposed arbitrary standards. There's only a very small circle who gets the privilege of seeing how his brain works.

Despite his ever-present disdain for you, it seems like you're one of the lucky few. He'll never acknowledge this. Never admit that he favours your opinions, because he genuinely doesn't think he does.

You're frank with him. Will tell him how it is. Don't sugarcoat it. Aren't seeking his approval, so don't care to lick his ass just to keep him happy—not that he ever wants you to lick his ass. Could think of nothing worse. Not because he isn't into it, but because the thought of being with you repulses him in a way he can't quite describe. Even thinking about it makes him shudder.

But maybe that's the issue. Maybe the shudder is indicative of something else entirely.

"Yoongi?" You ask, drawing him from his thoughts. The song has finished, but he doesn't even really recall listening to it at all.

"Hm?" He hums. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"The lyrics," you say. "What's the song about? 'Cause at the moment, musically, it sounds like a heartbreak song and love song all at the same time, and I think that's what's confusing about it. It can't decide what it wants to be."

Yoongi frowns.

"It's not really either," he supposes.

In the dim lighting of his studio, Yoongi is at his very best. Focused, he's shrewd in his astute calculations. Can put together different sounds and construct melodies you wouldn't even be able to dream of. For all of his issues, there is one undeniable truth: the man is a musical genius.

It's why this is all so perplexing to him. He hates not knowing how to make things right. This is his job. It's what he excels at—and yet he's failing.

"Well, what's it about?" You softly ask, turning to look at him. "Do you have the lyrics?"

Guard clearly up, the way Yoongi looks at you is puzzling. Whatever he's written isn't something that he wants to share.

"What?" you laugh, trying to not make a big deal of things. You know how quickly he closes up, and can already sense it happening. "You told me you're seeing someone, remember? God forbid you accidentally expose the fact you're a human being with real feelings."

You half think he might smile.

He doesn't.

Instead, he reaches across his desk for a small black notebook. A little weathered, it's clearly seen a lot of thoughts in the past. The leather of the cover is tarnished, and there's a faded sticker from some instrument brand wrapping around the spine.

"Just don't ask any fuckin' questions," he grumbles.

Rolling your eyes, you gladly accept the book. Tuck your thumb between the pages where a natural divide occurs. It's testament to how long Yoongi has spent agonising over the same words.

His handwriting never changes much. Always messy. Always hard to decipher.

Or at least, it's hard for other people. You've never found it to be too taxing.

What's curious this time are the little doodles on the page. Blossoms and small fruits.

"Cherries?" You ask, chirping with a little curiosity. It's hard to work out exactly what they are, but cherries seem like the most likely thing.

Yoongi just grunts.

Getting anything from him is like getting blood from a stone.

"How the fuck do you have a functioning relationship?" You mutter, casting your eyes back down to his words. The way he refuses to converse with you is infuriating.

"I said no questions," he curtly reminds you.

The way you roll your eyes this time is far less kind. Tossing the book back down on the desk, you reach for your shoes and get to your feet without a word.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," you tell him, as your hand reaches for the door handle. "You asked me for help, Yoongi—but I can't do jack shit if you won't let me."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for critique on my relationship, did I?" He snaps back. Feels his skin get all hot. Clammy. Relationship. That's not how he'd define what he's got going on. He doesn't know why he did call it that. Doesn't know why he didn't just ignore you, when you're clearly trying to wind him up.

"You're impossible," you tell him, patience thin. The alcohol made it easier to be friendly with him, but it also makes it easier to fight, too.

"And you're unbearable!"

"Me?!" You say with such offense it almost surprises Yoongi. Turning around to fully face him, you let go of the the door handle. Let it whisper shut, the lock softly clicking into place. You're willingly trapped in the confines of his studio. Could just leave. Instead, you choose to fight. "Oh, you have some fucking nerve—"

"I thought you were going?" He cuts you off, responding to your change in position by getting to his feet too. He's not one for confrontation, but there's something about you that just gets under his skin. Makes him wanna fight right back. "So why don't you just fuckin' go?"

"I am," you assure him. You should have known that this would end in disaster. "But maybe if you channelled some of this pent-up frustration into your music, maybe you'd actually get somewhere."

"I don't need you telling me how to do my job," he sneers. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm doing perfectly fine without your unsolicited advice."

Unbelievable. Was he not the one who asked for your help? Repeatedly?

"Holy shit," you scornfully laugh. "Listen to yourself, you deluded prick! You asked—"

"Yeah, well if you didn't insist on sticking your big fuckin' Pinnochio nose into everything—"

"My big nose?! Oh, you are such an asshole."

"You're no fuckin' daisy, either," he snaps. Doesn't even really know why he's being so rude. Just knows he doesn't want to back down. Doesn't wanna let you win. "Just do us all a favour and quit before the tour. No one wants you there."

It's never been a secret that Yoongi harbours contempt for the way in which you got your jobs, but you know damn well that you've proven your worth. If it was anyone else saying these words, you'd probably be offended.

Instead, you just shake your head. Laugh. Walk a little closer just to piss him off. Encroach upon his personal space.

"Tell me, Yoongi," you say quietly, picking off a little dust from his shirt just to see how he reacts. To your surprise, he lets you. Just looks down at you. Watches to see what you'll do next. Eyes flicking up to his, the air between you is frightfully thin. "If I quit, how would you explain it to Jin? Hmm? Would you tell him the way you speak to me?"

"I've got nothing to hide," Yoongi replies just as quietly. There's an intimacy to be found somewhere hidden between your mutual disdain and heated anger. The kind of coldness that can only come from someone you once knew to be warm. "He knows you're a piece of work."

This does make you laugh. "Nothing to hide, huh?"

"Nothing," he says. His jaw is tense, and his eyes are even more so. "Nothing happened that night."

"Yoongi, I didn't even mention that night," you remind him with a smirk, pleased at your ability to get under his skin.

That night has lingered with you both: the scent of damp cedar wood and the sensation of sweltering heat against your clammy skin. It's not the kind of thing you forget, even if you never speak of it. Not with Jimin, not with Jungkook, and especially not with Yoongi.

"Just get out of my studio," he growls, eyes centred on yours. He's unwavering in the way that he stares you out; unashamed and uncompromising.

"Gladly," you say as you pull away from him.

You're not gonna beg him to be cordial with you. This atmosphere is a product of his own creation, and as miserable as it is, he's gonna have to be the one to fix it. Both as stubborn as one another, you know damn well it's gonna stay like for a while.

The door slams shut. No amount of soundproofing can obscure the way Yoongi curses into the void left by you.

But right on time, as you reach the door that leads out onto the street, your phone vibrates in your pocket. It's a little longer than the vibration of your other apps, so you know exactly what it is. Who it is. Solace is found in the form of notifications from him. Satisfaction, too.

D4m0cl3s: fuck it i need you, now, clem

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

end of part two

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #rockstar!yoongi #yoongi fluff #bangtan ff #bts x reader #yoongi masterlist #yoongi x reader #yoongi ff #rockstar!bts #dappleddaisies #byholly #dating app au #rockstar au #myg x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut

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twistedwonderlandsimps · 6 months

Text

Small Yuu Hunt Idea

Okay but like what if Yuu Hunt, older sibling of Rook Hunt, was just this constantly haggard and tired person. They’re the complete opposite of Rook. It’d be even more funnier if the rest of the Hunt family was similar to Rook. Yuu would just be surrounded by these overly theatrical people 24/7 and questioning their entire existence. They'd be running up to Grim and be like:

“Grim! Grim, I need your help! Do you think I’m adopted? Do I look adopted? I think I might be adopted. Or maybe I got switched at birth at the hospital.” “Under the Hunt family’s watch? Face it, Yuu, you’re completely blood-related to them.” “Frère/soeur!~” “Bordel de merde! Shit! Rook’s coming. See you later, Grim! I'm ditching this place!” “Oi, you think I wanna be left alone with your little brother?! Take me with you!”

Yuu’s terrified of Rook because while the rest of their family are… well, unique, Rook is just a whole different breed.

Imagine Yuu Hunt using a crossbow for its speed and accuracy (or maybe a gun for hunting?), one which they use to keep Rook at bay because he keeps trying to hunt them down for some reason?! Out of all their siblings, Rook’s the only one who does this and they are terrified.

Like, Yuu would be peacefully taking a walk outside and suddenly an arrow shoots past just inches away from their face.

But of course as a Hunt, Yuu is also a seasoned hunter. It's just that they mostly use their skills to evade their siblings, especially Rook, when they have to.

Alternatively, Rook's the only outlier in their family but it's still the same story for Yuu. Rook always keeps on hunting them and never their other siblings.

Yuu, having a mental breakdown: Rook… Rook, what are you doing in my house Ramshackle? *crying* What are you doing in Ramshackle? Rook, standing in the darkest corner of their room: Bonjour!~

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thebirthofvenusfly · 2 months

Text

okay but i like thinking about the events of ISAT/siffrin's struggles not as them going from a party of normal people with normal struggles to "everyone essentially now has to help Sif heal from That," but as, "everyone in the party has had their own immense, long-term struggles, and this happens to be Siffrin's." like, siffrin is not just a, "problem child," or the standalone outlier in terms of angst

here me out

[major ISAT spoilers, especially for acts 3-5 btw]

siffrin doesn't know all these things in act 1, but:

Odile has had a life-long struggle with identity. Her mother abandoned her family at a young age, her father (presumably heartbroken and betrayed) has never kept any mementos or photos or stories of her and likely avoided speaking of her at any and all opportunities. For the most part, Odile loves her culture but admits she was an outlier in Ka Bue and always stood out from the texture of her hair and eyebrows. She's tried to settle before for the peace of just letting it be, but after meeting that travelling merchant, she realizes how badly she does want to bridge that gap in her identity and has now spent years travelling--all only to find that it didn't quite fix her problem and she hasn't been able to find herself entirely in Vaugarde either. She doesn't dwell too much on her mother, but I feel there is a part of her that could never forgive the hole her mother left behind.

Mirabelle has similarly struggled, though in terms of religion and sexuality. She holds herself to a very high standard of Changing and being a, "good," Housemaiden, and has gone to great lengths to learn as much as she can in efforts to reinvent herself and Change, as she feels she, "should," do, because that's what Housemaidens and diligent followers of the House of Change, "should," do. She is so adamant about this that even prior to the game, even prior to the King's reign--which was several months-a full year before ISAT begins--she is forcing herself to look into relationships to potentially date, bond, and even have children with someone and she doesn't want to do any of that it. She is distraught because she doesn't want to change that aspect. She doesn't want to become what she's not, or try to force herself to feel things she doesn't and can't feel, but she isn't being a good Housemaiden or a good member of her society if she stagnates.

Bonnie's plight primarily comes in with the King's reign, which again, has been for a few months now. They live with their older sister who loves them and cares for them tirelessly, but she is taken by the King's Curse and frozen in time--an event which presumably happens in front of Bonnie, who is encouraged by their sister's last words to just run from the village as far as they can to safety. If that isn't terrifying enough, this leads to them wandering the wilderness for days, exhausted, dehydrated, presumably starved/ill-fed, and lonely, and likely scared out of their mind. Their only saving grace is Siffrin, who happens to find them and save them. The comfort they feel with Sif is called into question when they have to watch Siffrin take a permanent, debilitating injury to the eye to protect them. While the incident seems to roll off Siffrin's worries pretty seamlessly, this is a lot for Bonnie, who by now, has recognized a pattern of the people they love being permanently hurt or altered in some way all just to protect them. They're convinced they're a recurring problem, and after the death ritual talk in the House, has to prepare themselves for the haunting reality that they might really lose everyone they love (and, again, this is a lot. Especially for a child).

Isabeau has tried Changing before, and while it did help him make leaps and bounds, he is still in a constant struggle to love himself fully. Let's be honest here: Isabeau is easily the most emotionally put-together party member, and most equipped to handle the stresses of the party in terms of feelings. This does not make him immune, however, to his own negative feelings. He even cites as wanting to become someone that Siffrin wouldn't be, "ashamed," to know. He also mentions that he is remorseful of the new image he's given himself, as an air-headed, jock type of person, which often leads people into genuinely believing he's stupid and thus treating him that way. Not to mention, as the emotional mediator of the party, I'm sure he occasionally gets stretched thin between helping everyone else manage their problems and altercations.

all this is to say: everyone in the party has their problems, and a good sum of these are not all instantly solved by the end of the story. all of them, siffrin included, are left in a space where they have plenty of healing to do but can confidently and comfortably still rely on one another.

ISAT is just siffrin's chapter of major emotional plight, and everyone else's is presumed prior to the narrative (i can also acknowledge that siffrin definitely got the worst of it though LMAO)

#isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #mirabelle #isabeau #odile #bonnie #siffrin

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lets-try-some-writing · 3 months

Text

Friendship and Intimacy

A slight update to my personal headcanon regarding Cybertronian habits and relationships, at least the physical stuff.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Even before the war, friendships have always had unspoken rules amongst Cybertronians. There are differences depending on city state, function, and caste. But as a general rule, Cybertronians follow the same sets of guidelines when it comes to close connections.

Unlike organics, Cybertronians do not biologically procreate. Yes, they are capable of cold forging and even creating new life from their own spark if they try hard enough. If they truly feel like fighting against the natural order, a Cybertronian can use technology to go through a similar process to create new life. However, as this is not a natural act and considering there is no biological function that allows for reproduction, there is no instinctual need to have close connections. Cybertronians will travel in groups instinctually if certain criteria are met, and they do have pack bonding abilities, to a limited extent. However, there is absolutely no immediate desire to touch one another, not even in the slightest. Touch is a dangerous thing. For a species that is all but functionally immortal, one of the only things that can effectively kill them is another of their kind.

Their coding recognizes this, and thus Cybertronians simply do not touch often. It is not even a high caste or an Iaconian exclusive mindset. All Cybertronians are not fond of being touched unless it is specifically agreed to by both parties. Touching is dangerous, especially with outliers and various frame types having unique abilities that can make touch even more dangerous on any given day. Generally speaking, the only places a mech is allowed to touch if absolutely required are the shoulders. This is due to the fact that the shoulders are one of the most armored locations on the body, and thus touching there can allow both parties to accomplish whatever must be done without invading the other's space more than required.

This makes friendship and interesting subject.

Touch, due to its rarity, has a great deal of symbolism behind it. Co-workers and acquaintances only touch the shoulders and strangers try not to touch at all. Cybertronians, even once they consider each other friends, can still remain at a distance physically for extended periods of time. But eventually, a sign of trust will come into play through touch.

The closer two mechs are, the more touching is allowed. It always starts small, usually with the servos. It is completely normal for two individuals, regardless of weather their relationship is platonic or not, to hold hands. For them it is a show of trust. By limiting themselves to one arm each and allowing the tactile sensors on their digits to touch, they are expressing trust in the other and their belief that their counterpart will do them no harm.

Regardless of relationship type, individuals move from servos to other heavily armored parts of the other's frame when it comes to touch. It is completely normal for close friends to sit close enough to touch shoulders and legs. Rubbing each other's backs is widely accepted as another form of showing trust. Running digits along arm guards and messing with external kibble is all perfectly normal behavior. These things show the closeness of a pair, and usually the type of touches are unique to every single duo. Romantic partners may begin to get a tad more touchy during this phase, but platonic and familial relationships can do the same depending on the situation.

Usually companionships do not progress past this point of general body touching. Even familial relationships can remain in this limbo for vorns upon vorns if neither party feels comfortable making a move. This is largely because the next step is one that most cannot back out of. Protoform is the most sensitive and easily damaged part of a mech. In order to really show absolute trust, a pair must allow each other to have access to said protoform. This is when things can begin looking strange to other races.

Once a pair have moved to this phase of absolute trust, it isn't at all weird to see them behave in ways that would otherwise appear VERY scandalous to species that reproduce organically. Before the war, Megatron regularly stuck his digits into the gaps in Soundwave's hip plating to touch the protoform there. It wasn't romantic at all, merely a way of assuring that they trusted each other. Jazz was very comfortable sticking his servos into the gaps around Orion's vents to prove his loyalty. Ratchet wasn't all that much better and after so many vorns at war, it is totally normal for him and Optimus to be found in a strange cuddle pile with their limbs entangled and digits in places human would see as very much NOT appropriate.

Touching is a sign of trust, and by the Allspark humans simply do not get it. They read everything WRONG when they catch bots interacting in similar ways. Optimus wrapping his arms around Bumblebee and resting his helm on Bee's shoulder is familial. Ratchet randomly sticking his digits into Optimus's hips is just a fact of life. Arcee periodically sticking her little claws into Bulkhead's various kibble is just their way of playing. Wheeljack and Bulkhead are extra open about being touchy. More than once June has ushered the children away when they get a bit too much for the adult humans in the room to be comfortable.

Touching is a way to bond. Nothing more, nothing less. Humans look and see things they shouldn't. Cybertronians witness a pair who are close enough to allow one another to come near their vital systems.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #team prime #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #megatron #arcee #bulkhead #jazz #soundwave #cybertronian culture #cybertronian biology #cybertronian worldbuilding

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sooniebby · 1 year

Text

ఌ 𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ the day life went to shit and got you a husband

Word count › 4.6k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › talk of trafficking (not actually shown)

Kinks › dub con, a/b/o, bitching

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Harada (Name) was pretty much a gem to others. An alpha so sweet that he rivaled omegas. He was beautiful, a bit feminine compared to other alphas but most didn’t mind.

His family didn’t care too much about him. Despite everyone else loving him, he was weak compared to his older brother. A stereotypical alpha that was cold and heartless. Only saw omegas as a breeding stock for their alpha pups.

Most now didn’t think that way. Omegas were equals now and had protection over themselves. Of course there was the weirdos, like (Name)’s brother and family, they were really an outlier.

The Harada family were well off to say the least. Their house was certainly large. Nothing to scoff over. But (Name) never knew just what his family did. They wouldn’t tell him. He first believed they were lawyers when he found a diploma for law school.

But they wouldn’t give him an answer. They even told him to no longer bother them about his silly questions. (Name) had stopped asking after that.

His older sister, a beta named Kokomo, was much nicer to him. Maybe the only family member that liked him. His big brother, Haru, hated him. He wasn’t even sure why.

When (Name) reached the age of 18, he was finally going off to college. But he was forced to chose a college that was close in his area so he’d stay at the house.

In hindsight, he should’ve known that it had to do something with the secrets his parents were hiding.

“(Name)! You paying attention?” Hana huffed, shaking her head. She was one of the few true friends he had recently made.

“Sorry.. a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” Kei, another friend, asked.

“My parents. They haven’t come home yet…”

“Oh,” Hana sighed. “Probably got stuck with some stuff at work. Nothing to worry about.”

Yeah, (Name) thought to himself. Maybe he was just freaking himself out. He continued the night with his friends, ending the study session with new confidence for his test tomorrow.

He walked home alone, like always. A hum on his lips as he lightly skipped home, excited to see Kokomo at home. If his parents and Haru still weren’t home, he’d get to enjoy himself with his favorite person in the whole world.

A grin spread on his lips as he picked up the pace. He was lucky enough that his house was only twenty minutes walk away from the university. Being an alpha had its perks in that he didn’t fear walking home alone.

Once he reached home, he noticed it was quiet. Way too quiet. (Name) felt a rush of panic in himself, wondering if anything went wrong. He rushed to Kokomo’s bedroom, hoping and praying that she’d just be asleep in bed.

And she was. (Name) sighed with relief, closing her bedroom door back once he confirmed she was just asleep. He shook his head, he was going crazy.

(Name) then just decided he needed a shower and to take a good nights rest for his big day tomorrow.

Once he made it to his room, he saw his window open. Weird. He shrugged it off and closed it, glancing around quickly to see if something was off.

But it was normal.

With nothing odd roaming about, he pulled off his clothes for his shower. (Name)’s body was smaller and slimmer than any other alpha he’s ever met. More feminine like—even with his facial features.

If it wasn’t for his scent, most would assume he was a taller omega. (Name) had always felt insecure about it but he still had many omegas and betas want to date him even with his features so he mainly ignored it.

“Wow, a show? Just for me, baby?”

(Name) shrieked, covering his body with his hands. A random man came out from the bathroom connected his room. Fuck, he forgot to check the bathroom. He panicked, wondering if he could just sprint to his door and run out.

But he couldn’t. The man was right near it, he could easily grab him. The window also wasn’t a good idea since he was on the second floor. Falling to the ground might break some bones.

He also couldn’t just leave Kokomo alone with this strange man.

“Who are you?!”

The man smiled. “Your mommy and daddy haven’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

He sighed, “your parents suck, huh?”

A scream was heard as (Name) felt himself freeze up. No. Why didn’t he think that this man would be alone? All this staring and trying to talk to this man gave whoever his parents were enough time to get to his sister.

(Name) gasped as the man was suddenly in front of him with a napkin in his hands. Before he could even try to dodge it, the napkin was pressed firmly onto his face, directly into his nose. Whatever was on the napkin, he quickly felt himself slipping away into a deep slumber.

All he could see was the smirk on the man’s lips before his eyes closed.

ꕥ

“(Name)!”

A groan left (Name)’s throat as he craned his neck around to get a look of what had happened. His eyes felt a little blurry, as he tried to take in what was happening. From his blurry vision, he could tell that he was still at home, just in the large living room.

He was on the floor, tied tightly around both arms and legs. A cry from his sister caused him to try and fight against the bonds but nothing happened. He wasn’t even sure if his thoughts was cooperating with his body right now.

“Harada? We have your son and daughter here… if you’re done with hiding, come and get them before we leave a nice blood splatter for ya!” A voice chuckled.

No… was his family in a gang? Just what did they do?

A grip on his hair caused him to finally see more clearly. It was the man from the bathroom looking at home, a calm and calculating look on his face.

“Hey, kid, we’ll have to use you and your sister as bait, alright? No hard feelings. We won’t hurt you.”

(Name) wasn’t sure if he believed them but he couldn’t argue. He felt so tired. The man placed his head back on the ground before walking away, leaving (Name) alone to ponder his situation.

There were more people with them. Maybe three others? Two alphas and two betas. The man was certainly an alpha and felt like a leader. (Name) couldn’t see the others but heard their whispering of something his parents and brother owed them.

Were they an omega trafficking ring? He wouldn’t put it past them to do such a thing. A grunt left him as he tried to move around to face the couch from his spot on the ground. He could hear Kokomo crying, pleading on letting her and him live.

(Name) wished he could hug her but all he could do was try and turn his body around.

“Your parents, Miss Harada, are in a bit of trouble. They decided to kidnap our boss’s sister for their little shit of a son. But they didn’t get far.” A random woman laughed, an alpha.

“Papa’s dead. So now we only have big bro and mama. Let’s see what happens to them hm?”

(Name) could heard Kokomo’s cries on the news about their father’s apparent death. He couldn’t find himself to care. They really tried to kidnap some random omega woman for Haru? Why couldn’t he just find someone?

“That’s not all,” a new voice chimed in. “Papa and mama have some crimes they must answer for. And big bro was about to join those little crimes.” A beta male said.

“What crimes..?” Kokomo asked.

“Trafficking ring.” The bathroom man said. “It was stopped a week ago. I’m sure that’s when your parents left for their little work trip.”

And it was. (Name) didn’t know how to feel but it was certainly anger building up. Was that really how they made their money? The luxury he lived in was built off the exploitation of innocent omegas?

“No! Mom and dad aren’t like that!” Kokomo yelled, but even (Name) could hear that she didn’t believe herself.

Did they really know their parents when they focused solely on Haru?

“The police…” (Name) muttered, earning eyes on him.

“We’ll send them after your mom and brother if they don’t come,” the woman said.

“Anyway, aren’t you going to go through with the plan?” A beta female said, startling (Name) when she grasped his hair and pulled him up. He grunted in pain, finally getting a clear look at Kokomo and the others.

Kokomo was clutching a pillow to her chest as she sat on the couch, staring at (Name) with a look of fear. He wished he could run to her and calm her down. But his body still felt weak.

Just what was that thing on the napkin?

“So, how do you wanna do this? They need to see it,” she said, pulling out a knife. Kokomo screamed but was quickly silenced by the male beta. She gripped the hand covering her mouth as wet tears streamed down her face.

The female beta brought the knife towards (Name)’s cheek, pressing it into his skin. He felt completely silent, wishing they wouldn’t go through with it.

But then Haru and his mother stormed into the room, looking completely calm despite the situation they were in. (Name) was not happy to see them but at least the bathroom man was distracted.

“Kimura!” His brother yelled, a snarl on his lips. His disgusting scent filled the living room of burnt marshmallows as (Name) wanted to gag. The other people in the room seemed to agree with his feeling as they also looked mildly disgusted.

The bathroom man, Kimura, smirked. “Haru-Chan! How’s it going? Thought you wouldn’t leave that new home of yours. You too, mama.”

(Name)’s mother scowled. “You already took my husband anyway from me! What more do you want?”

What…? Did she not see Kokomo and (Name) in custody of these gangsters?

Kimura hummed. “Well, I thought you’d care about your other kids but I guess I was wrong…”

His mother only laughed. “Care about a feminine alpha and a disgusting girl who became a beta? You were sadly mistaken.”

The alpha woman shook her head, “wow, no wonder you had no problem having that trafficking ring.”

“The things my family did to give us a roof over our head,” his mother exclaimed. Haru simply nodded in agreement.

“A roof over your head in favor of using those poor omegas?!” The beta woman gasped, pressing the knife deeper into his skin, causing a sliver of blood to appear on his cheek.

“Yes. I did what I could for my husband and son. Those two just happened because his condom failed.”

Oh. He knew she didn’t like him but to actually hear it…

It actually hurt. Kokomo was now sobbing, not believing her own mother would say such words about her like that. Haru’s scent that had previously dominated the room was beginning to disappear, being dominated by something else.

Kimura’s scent.

It was a scent of a rainy night in a forest. In any other time, (Name) would’ve enjoyed it. But now it was angry. He somehow felt the urge to show to Kimura that he would not disobey him. Was it because he was a much stronger alpha?

“I’m sure you do care about the reputation of your family. Now that’s basically gone, I guess I can just do what your son did to my sister.” Kimura muttered, walking over to (Name).

A look of panic washed over Haru and his mother. What they did his sister? Reputation gone? What the hell was he talking about.

Kimura grabbed the knife from the beta and pushed in deep, ignoring the cry from (Name) as he slashed downwards, effectively cutting his skin. Wet blood covered his left side of his face as Kimura soon did it to his right side, equal in length and area of his face.

(Name) felt himself whither in agony, the pain of being cut so deep as blood flowed down his face. He could hear Kokomo screaming as she was kept down on the couch by the alpha woman and the two betas.

Haru and his mother didn’t even try to help. They only stood there in fear.

(Name) glanced up as Kimura tugged at his hair. He didn’t think he could take anymore damage. His face would be permanently scarred now. Matching scars on both cheeks that traveled from his cheek bone to the middle of his cheeks.

“But scarring her wasn’t the only thing you did to her….” Kimura said, loud enough for Haru to hear. “You didn’t get to go through with fully going through with it but I will. Fair is unfair, yeah?”

With a sharp tug to pull his head back, Kimura kneeled down and bite down on (Name)’s scent gland. (Name)’s body rejected the claim, causing him to scream in pain. The physical contortion of his body rejecting the claim from an alpha almost made him completely pass out.

“(Name)!!! Please, don’t hurt him!!” Kokomo cried. “Haru!!! Mommy!! Do something!!”

Kimura leaned back in and bit down on his scent gland again, earning another scream from (Name) the rejection was less violent but he still felt himself shiver in pain.

His body was against it. It didn’t want it. He wasn’t made to handle such bites.

(Name) could only see Haru and his mother just stare in fear. They really weren’t going to do anything. He was going to be killed by the time Kimura was finished.

But (Name) wasn’t even sure what the man was doing.

Was he trying to intentionally hurt him…?

“Only need one more bite and then the process starts…” Kimura muttered, looking back at Haru as if he was waiting for him to protest. Do anything to save his little brother from the worst pain imaginable.

But he only stared.

Kimura shrugged before his sharp teeth bit down on his scent gland, making (Name)’s body actually take this time. His sharp canines went through the gland, effectively claiming him as if he was an omega.

A cry left (Name)’s lips as his body convulsed in jolts of pain. He felt himself faint soon near after, wet tears in his eyes as he knew something terrible happened to his body.

And there was no way to reverse it.

ꕥ

A heavy body on (Name) stirred him awake as he looked around. He wasn’t in the living room. And this certainly wasn’t his home. He glanced down at the body in his chest to realize it was a Shiba Inu. The dog barked happily, noticing (Name) was awake.

(Name) felt any panic in his heart, disappear as he cuddled the dog. He could oddly feel himself purr in glee at the feeling of the dog. But it was odd. He never purred before at the touch of a dog.

He’d seen other omegas do it but he never did.

(Name) reached over on the nightstand for anything but only found a tv remote. With nothing else, he turned on the tv, right to the news to see what date it was.

“Good morning! I’m Yoshida Nana! It’s October 18, at noon today. It’s only been two weeks since the capture of Harada Asa and Harada Haru for their omega trafficking ring. Others have now been caught and charged for participating.”

“The body of Harada Yuki has also been found. We once again thank the Kimura family for bringing the Harada’s to justice and saving all of the victims that were tragically captured. Please, If you find any word of other rings or people who may have participated, report to the police immediately.”

(Name) covered his mouth as he gently pushed the dog off of him and rushed to the bathroom, kneeling down in front of the toilet as he threw up. He forgot. He forgot about everything his parents and brother had done.

No way.

He couldn’t go back to normal after this. Omega traffickers?? People would think he had something to do with it. He was an alpha as well, he couldn’t just say he had no idea without proof.

The dog whined as it pressed it’s wet nose against his leg, earning a soft smile from (Name). He sighed softly before getting up and walking over to the sink, looking in the mirror to see what has become of him.

He slept for so long. Two weeks?

(Name) gasped. Two matching scars were on his face. They were light, looking to not be too recent but they were still there. He felt a bit better at the fact they’d be gone soon but how long did he have to wait?

Weeks? Years?

He glanced at over parts of his body and noticed he had gotten shorter. Much shorter. His 5’10 frame had gone down at most three inches? He had to be around 5’7 now? Maybe even 5’6. How did this happen?

His legs didn’t look as long as they were. And his body.

It was skinny before. Thin as a pole but now it was plump. His chest had actual fluff. His thighs weren’t just thin but actually had fat on it. His ass as well.. it wasn’t flat anymore. There was a curve.

Like…

Like an omega.

He had features of an omega….

No.

(Name) felt himself panic. Not when he was finally confident in his features and secondary gender. How can it just be taken away from him as if it was nothing?

Why couldn’t anything go right for him?!

Something inside of him was whining. Whining for someone to comfort him. An alpha? But he didn’t have one. (Name) stumbled over to his bed, the tv still playing the news as he collapsed on the bed.

The dog was hot on his tail, barking as if it wanted to get (Name) to calm down. (Name) felt weak. He wanted to sleep. But he couldn’t—not on a bed that didn’t feel like home.

He wanted Kokomo…

With his tired body, he lazily moved pillows and sheets around the bed as he built a makeshift nest. He reached down and pulled the dog onto the bed and laid down, finally able to sleep in something…. More homey.

It was possibly only a few minutes but an hour to (Name) when he felt the touch of someone on his head. He awoke quickly, glancing to see who it was. It was Kokomo. (Name) couldn’t help the tears form in his eyes as he got up, accidentally waking up the dog, and pulling her into a hug.

Kokomo gracefully returned it, whispering about how much she missed him. (Name) felt the sudden urge to scent her. He had never felt this way when he was an alpha. But he had never scent anyone so he wasn’t sure how.

“(Name), are you okay? I was so worried!”

“Mmh, I feel odd. But we need to get home.”

“There is no home… they took it…” Kokomo muttered.

“Why…?”

“We don’t own it. But we don’t have to worry about people thinking we were apart of it! Kimura-San proved us innocent!” Kokomo grinned.

“How?”

A blush appeared on her face. “Oh… uh… well, Kimura-San, the boss of this company, had been previous business partners with mom and dad… they knew something was odd when mom suddenly got enough money to pay off any debts.”

“So they spied of them?” (Name) asked.

“Kinda. They didn’t tell me much. Just that the police won’t need to investigate us… the public is a different story. But Kimura-San will let us stay here.”

“What’s in it for them?”

“Nothing. But it’s good for an omega to stay with his alpha.”

“Excuse me?”

Kokomo frowned. “It was probably traumatic for you. But he did bitch you. It was because his sister was almost bitched by our brother.”

(Name) felt himself frown. “So I was bitched for revenge?! I was forcibly changed and removed of any good status I had in this life because of fucking revenge?!”

He stood up from the bed as he paced around.

“Good status? (Name) you don’t mean that…”

(Name) growled. “Of course I fucking believe that. An omega!? A fucking omega!? I had a good life as an alpha! People loved me! And now I’m stuck as a fucking breeder!”

A slap rang out in the room as (Name) felt his eyes widen in shock. Kokomo had slapped him. He turned back to stare at her, wondering when she got the audacity to hit him.

“I know you are panicked! Turning into an omega isn’t something easy. But I won’t allow you to talk down about omegas or yourself. Taiki will take care of you!”

“Taiki?! Who the fuck is Taiki?!”

Kokomo sighed. “Just… allow him to help you. He’s been caring for you for awhile now.” She walked over to the door. (Name) watched as she left, leaving him alone in the unfamiliar room.

Was she… did she really turn against him?

(Name) felt tears stream down his face as he wondered if this was it. Was he screwed over forever? He glanced over at the dog on the bed as he tried to calm down.

He needed something. He wanted someone.

Despite the bright sun shining into his room, (Name) joined the dog on the bed and went right back to sleep, feeling defeated in his short life. He was sure if he wanted to wake up.

The feeling of something cool against his hot skin was healing towards him. A whisper was heard as he was manhandled into something cool. He could smell that Kimura man… was it because it was his house?

“Sana! Give him some space,” the voice said, pushing away a barking animal. (Name) stirred in the man’s arms, wanting to get a good look at who it was.

He glanced up and saw the bathroom man. Kimura. The man who turned him into this… shell of himself. But he couldn’t feel angry. He felt himself purr at the sight of him. If he had a tail, it would’ve been wagging.

“Baby, are you feeling okay? Being bitched isn’t something most alphas can handle…” Kimura muttered. “But you seem to be handling it pretty well, huh?”

(Name) hummed. “You bitched me because of my brother, right? Why are you treating me like this?”

Kimura gripped (Name)’s chin and forced him to look up at him. “I would’ve bitched you even if your brother didn’t kidnap my sister. I wanted you for awhile now.”

“Wh—wha? How did you know me?”

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Kimura smirked.

“Does it look like I do?”

Kimura simply hummed as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on (Name)’s healed mating mark. A sudden mewl left (Name)’s lips as he felt his cock twitch at the touch. He couldn’t contain his purring as he felt Kimura bit over his mating mark.

“You don’t have a clue on how long I’ve waiting for you.” Kimura whispered. “No matter how much you initially fight me, I’ll continue to love you.”

(Name) blushed. Love? This man, who could be five years his senior, loved him? He, in the first time once he saw him, got a good look at his features. Dark jet black hair with medium length bangs. Sharp monolids that resembled a cat. Medium lips that could widen into a sinister smirk if he wanted to.

He wasn’t scary to look at, at least.

(Name) opened his mouth to speak only to feel a sudden gush of something wet from his ass. He watched as Kimura only had to sniff once to know what he was smelling.

“Already? Your heat is coming.” Kimura muttered, easily maneuvering (Name) to lay down on the bed as he pulled off his boxers. (Name) hated how he didn’t struggle.

He wanted to but his body wouldn’t listen. It was the stupid omega that was purring at the sight of ‘his’ alpha pleasuring him.

“Before you touch me down there, who are you? Yakuza?”

Kimura stared at (Name) before grinning. “Maybe. You can’t be this rich without some side businesses.”

“Like my parents.”

“We’re nothing like your scum of earth parents. Don’t you ever try to say my family is anything like them, alright?” Kimura glared at him, making him quickly agree,

“Don’t worry, baby. You won’t be a Harada anymore. You’ll be a Kimura.”

“Then… you’re Taiki…?”

“Yeah. Taiki, wanna scream it?”

(Name) shook his head even though the slick looking at his ass was beginning to bother him. Taiki simply chuckled before slipping in two fingers into his ass.

A scream left the newly omega beneath him as he thrusted the fingers deep inside, dragging them against his warm walls as they tightened around him. (Name) hated how he craved this. How he wanted to pull Taiki in closer.

“Can you imagine my cock instead of my fingers? I think you’d honestly prefer it,” Taiki laughed.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” (Name) cried, not sounding at all as the angry alpha he used to. Now he only reminded Taiki of a whiny omega who needed to be fucked during their heat.

“Fine, fine. We can sit in silence.”

With that, he thrusted in a third finger, dragging it in deep enough to brush against his prostate. A scream left (Name)’s lips as his back arched. He’d never had anything up his ass before and he hated how easily his body was taking it.

There was no resistance. Slick continued to drip out, making it easier for Taiki to continuously stimulate his prostate. (Name) didn’t really like the silence, being as his moans and whimpers were the only thing in the room.

Well, until a certain bark caught his attention.

“OH MY GOD!!”

“What?!”

“Get the dog out!!”

“Sana is fine. She doesn’t know what we’re doing.”

“Out or you’ll never fuck me!!”

Taiki cursed but did as he was told, removing his fingers and grabbing Sana to take her out of the room. Sana whined at this but didn’t fight his hold. Once the door closed when she was put out, Taiki frowned to see (Name) fully covered with a blanket.

“Seriously?”

“Get away.”

“If I’m away, your omega will cry.”

“No sex.”

“Fine. You initiating it will be sexy later. Since you’re still leaking slick,” Taiki said, turning on the tv.

“I’m stuck like this…?”

Taiki turned his attention back over to him, leaning over. (Name) watched as Taiki surprisingly showed off his neck, his scent gland. Did he want…

“Go ahead. Bind me to you like I bound you to me.”

(Name) should’ve pushed him away. Slap him. Fucking kick him away for doing this to him. But he gripped Taiki’s shoulder and pulled him in as he bite harshly at his scent gland. He enjoyed the grimace he earned from Taiki, making sure the mark would take.

The taste of blood was metallic and a bit gross at best. (Name) pulled away with blood coating his lips as he stared at the mark. It was…

It made his heart swell at the sight. Taiki was his…

The stupid omega in him was fucking happy but he wasn’t.

He couldn’t be.

“Happy?”

“No! Get out of my sight!”

“No. This is my room.”

“What?!”

“And you’re wearing my clothes.”

(Name) was ready to take this clothes off but decided against it. He’d rather not be naked.

“You’ve ruined my life.”

“I think I made it better, Omega.”

(Name) ignored the sudden rush of slick in his ass.

He was screwed.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Wrote way more than I usual ever do… this character actually has plot 💀 first time besides Riki (who gets a part 2 on Sunday)

Taiki’s debut! Can’t wait to write more for him, if you guys want a part 2!

Thank you so much for 1k followers!

#bottom male reader #x male reader

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dvrk-moon · 3 months

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LOVE ME (NOT) - YANG JUNGWON

TEASER 1

synopsis : fake dating your enemy, yang jungwon, for the sake of getting your mutual friends to stop playing matchmaker is the worst idea you’ve ever heard in your life. however, it’s a bit more enticing when $100 is thrown in the mix.

word count : 1.8k

warnings : none for this part

featuring : ive wonyoung, bnd taesan + more in full work

genre : enemies-to-lovers, fake dating, slow burn, jungwon x fem!reader, private school au, high school au

playlist : tba

expected release date : whenever i finish this ten page essay i have

i. FOURTY-LOVE

The wind always blows when you don’t want it to.

At least, that’s what it feels like.

You were sat on a bench outside of the country club owned by your friend’s family. They were crazily wealthy, owning not only a country club but also many vacation homes and businesses. That was pretty much a given though, especially since you had met your friend at a private and prestigious academy. Everyone that attended the school was extremely well off in a sense. Most of the students had parents who were business owners, political figures, or even celebrities. To say that you were an outlier would be an understatement.

You didn’t come from wealth. In fact, you were one of the only students at your school to not come from wealth. You were offered a scholarship for your academics; last year, you had an opportunity from your old school to take a test that offered a scholarship to your current academy if you scored well. Only the top five scorers would be granted admission. You and four other students were awarded with the scholarship.

Unfortunately, that meant that you had left a completely different life behind. Your two best friends from childhood, Minji and Gyuvin, were both in support of your academic opportunity, but neither of them had passed the test, so you were left alone. A new, clean slate at a school where you knew next to no one.

Your new classmates made no effort to help you fit in. In fact, most of them ridiculed you for coming from a lower class. It was expected when mingling with snotty prep school kids, but it still hurt. The only person that hadn’t singled you out was Wonyoung.

She was easily the most popular girl there, but she still brought you under her wing. This caused the others to be slightly kinder to you, but only in her presence.

So here you were, sat on a bench, outside of her family’s country club, swinging your legs and glancing at the tennis court in front of you. It was late March, and though the weather reports had said that it would be nice enough outside to wear a skirt, your legs were cursing you because of the wind.

Wonyoung had gone inside temporarily to go fetch the two boys that you were going to play tennis with. She’d left about two minutes ago, telling you that she just had to run down to the entrance gate and she’d be back as soon as possible.

You fidgeted with the hem of the skirt you were wearing. It wasn’t even yours; it was Wonyoung’s, and she had let you borrow it for today. You laughed at yourself, because here you were, at a country club, yet the clothes you were wearing weren’t even yours. From an outsiders perspective, you seemed rich. Everyone else could tell the truth, though.

Another breeze passed by and you stood up, walking towards the door. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d have to wait, so you figured that you may as well wait inside.

As if on cue, Wonyoung exited the door with the two boys. You knew both of them from school. Honestly, you liked Wonyoung’s boyfriend. His name was Taesan. He was always nice to you, and never made you feel bad for being of a lower class.

The other boy, however, seemed to have a personal vendetta against you, and you had no idea why. He didn’t seem to like you from the first day you met, even though you’d been nice to him from the get-go. If you had to guess why he didn’t like you, it was probably for the same reason that none of your other peers seemed to like you: your wealth status.

Jungwon was his name, and aside from being a major jerk to you, he was extremely intelligent. Ever since you arrived at the school, you’d been one of the top ranked students. It made sense, too, as you were permitted into the school based on your academics. Jungwon was ranked second to you in most classes. You figured that could be another reason.

As soon as you met eyes with Jungwon, he rolled his own and shook his head. He was donned in the most prestigious tennis outfit you’d ever seen, which was saying a lot, given as this country club was flooded with rich and pretentious tennis players.

“Okay,” Wonyoung started, walking over to you, “now that we are all here, do you guys want to warm up?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon said, looking away from you, “let’s warm up.”

You didn’t miss how Jungwon slightly shoulder-checked you as he walked towards the tennis courts.

You entered the fenced-in courts, and another breeze blew in your direction. As a reaction, you shivered, making Wonyoung giggle as she made her way towards you.

“Sorry about the hold up,” she started, bouncing a tennis ball on the court, practicing her serving. She looked over at the other side of the court, where Jungwon and Taesan were situated. She laughed, “but those two were taking forever. They’re weird.” She offered you an apologetic smile.

“It’s fine,” you said, “I was just afraid you wouldn’t come back. I stick out like a sore thumb here.”

Wonyoung frowned, “No you don’t, Y/N. I don’t think a single person here batted an eye while I was gone.”

“You were gone,” you teased, “how would you know?”

“I know lots of things,” she commented, “I know lots and lots of things.”

You bounced the tennis ball on the court as you laughed at her words, “Whatever you say.”

After about five minutes of warming up and a dirty look exchanged with Jungwon later, Wonyoung announced, “Okay, let’s get to playing! Do we wanna do singles or doubles?”

“Let’s do doubles,” Taesan said, walking towards the net. He patted Jungwon on the back, “and Jungwon, you can be partners with Y/N. Is that okay with you guys?”

Wonyoung turned to you, “It’s fine with me as long as you’re okay with it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Taesan started walking over to Wonyoung, so you took that as your cue to go ahead and walk to the side Jungwon was on. Even though you knew Jungwon wasn’t your biggest fan, you still attempted formalities with him.

“Good luck,” you commented, looking at him. You sent him a little smile, “I’ll play to the best of my ability, but I don’t play often. So, sorry in advance.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jungwon replied under his breath, thinking that you wouldn’t hear. You decided to just ignore him and play to the best of your ability, like you said you would.

The first game started with Wonyoung serving and you receiving, but the first game was cut relatively short with an easy 40-15 that ends in your team’s loss.

The rest of the games of the first set ended very similarly, to no surprise. Wonyoung’s family owned the country club. Of course she would be good at the game.

So far, you and Jungwon had only won two sets out of the seven played. Wonyoung and Taesan only needed to win one more set to win the match.

Jungwon, quite obviously, was extremely frustrated at this loss. Very early on, you’d learned that he was a sore loser, and that you being bad at tennis definitely wasn’t helping soothe his anger.

After the final set that ended up in, surprise, a win for Wonyoung and Taesan, the two winners went to take a quick victory break while they left you and Jungwon to “discuss game strategies” as they phrased it.

In the three minutes that they’d been gone, no words were exchanged between you and Jungwon. He was just repeatedly slamming the tennis ball into the court and catching it when it bounced back. The air was tense, but you still tried to make conversation.

“Sorry about that.”

“Your horrible playing?” Jungwon snidely remarked, “Yeah. Thanks for the apology, but that doesn’t change that you’re making us lose.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “You’re acting like this is life or death. It’s just tennis.”

“Yeah, it may be just tennis to you. But some people, of… higher class… take it more seriously than people like you would. So I don’t expect you to understand.”

“People like me?!” You laughed incredulously, surprised at his audacity. You tried your best to keep your voice down to not draw any attention towards you two, but with his attitude, it was difficult.

“Yeah, people like you. Did I stutter?” He asked snarky.

Your words got caught in your mouth- most of the time when people were mean to you, you’d just either ask them what they said (even when you’d heard it) or you’d repeat what they said to you, and that usually made them back off. Clearly this wasn’t the case for Jungwon, though, as he was completely okay with repeating himself and not even thinking twice about what he said to you. You groaned, turning away from him, “You’re not nice.”

“And you’re bad at tennis.”

“At least I’m good at math…” you trailed off, semi-hoping that he wouldn’t hear. You were better than Jungwon when it came to math, and that was a sensitive topic for him. But, if he wanted to ridicule your tennis playing skills, then you would ridicule his mathematical abilities.

The tennis ball that was being aggressively bounced into the court stopped. You didn’t need to look at Jungwon to know his eyes were boring holes into the back of your head.

“What did you say?” Jungwon seethed out, taking a step closer to you.

“Nothing…” you trailed off, facing him, “it’s just that… I don’t need to be good at tennis. I’m smart.”

“Psh.” Jungwon rolled his eyes at you, “At least my parents can pay for good schooling. Sucks that yours have to mooch off of a scholarship.”

You rolled your eyes back, very slightly raising your voice at him, “Yeah. Imagine your parents having to pay for the same schooling that I get. And I get it for free.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, Wonyoung and Taesan returned with canned drinks, one in each hand for the both of them and for you and Jungwon. Wonyoung smiled, “We brought you guys back something to drink!”

You felt most of your anger dissipate at Wonyoung’s return, smiling at her. She and Taesan entered the courts once again and you met her in the middle, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Taesan also brought something for Jungwon.”

You nodded as she handed you the beverage, cracking it open and taking a drink. The cold liquid felt like a good refresher to the heated argument that was just beginning to unfold minutes ago.

“I’m glad that you and Jungwon seem to be getting along.” Wonyoung commented, nearly making you choke on the drink. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ears, “You guys wouldn’t make a bad couple.”

a/n : temporarily showing up with a work after half a week bc i have been thru the trenches lately lmao

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pompadorbz · 1 year

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submas is actually so funny because like. Do you think Gamefreak expected this kind of response to Ingo being in PLA? They not only chose to turn a guy who used to be fairly popular into a faller but they also made the mistake of doing it to a guy with a sibling. With the other fallers they at least have someone new to call family, or at the MINIMUM are in the present day and could locate their loved ones. Ingo is (I'm pretty sure?) the single outlier here.

Before all of this, Emmet and Ingo were pretty Jokey characters. Like everything about them is supposed to be funny AND IT IS. You mean to tell me that these two identical twins live in the same place, have the same job, and love their job and spending time with one another SO MUCH that they've kept up the whole dressing identical schtick up all the way until like. mid adulthood?? Possibly even early senior years if Ingo's new design is anything to go by??? Like that's so funny and delightful.

EXCEPT NOW. NOW WE ARE FORCED TO CONSIDER THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT. AND THE IMPLICATIONS OF ONE OF THEM JUST SUDDENLY DISAPPEARING. Like imagine having somebody in your life who is a constant, to the point where you see them every single day almost every single hour. THEN SUDDENLY THEY JUST GO MISSING. It doesn't help that at the current moment, we've really only seen half of this side plot they've thrown at us. so the million dollar question is now; ok where the fuck is Emmet then????

AND GAMEFREAK LEFT THIS OPEN TO INTERPRETATION. IT WILL CONTINUE TO BE OPEN TO INTERPRETATION UNTIL THEY ARE PUT IN A SCENARIO WHERE THEY HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO ADDRESS IT (probably the Unova remakes, and that'll be like. a WHILE). IN OTHER WORDS. THIS ENTIRE SECOND HALF OF THIS STORY HAS JUST BECOME FREE GAME. AND PEOPLE ARE RUNNING WILD WITH IT. What started as jokes about Emmet killing Arceus with his bare hands have escalated to SUCH an extent that'd look insane to any outsider who wasn't there to see every single step to where we are now. But as somebody who's been here for practically the entire time since PLA's release??? Everything just feels like a normal, natural progression. Actually, it's been a WHILE since I've seen a fandom go this crazy with aus, and I think it's really just a result of there not being all that much to work with. When you like a character but you're presented with very minimal content, you kinda need to fill the void with your own work, and that's kinda become the submas fandom's lifeblood.

#syd spiels #submas #i heart emmet ingo submas #theyre so sillie :)

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thekillingvote · 8 months

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No Birds Allowed: Batman without Robin

The usual claim is that Jason Todd was singularly hated by audiences. Dick Grayson, Carrie Kelley, and Tim Drake are proper, beloved Robins—and Jason Todd is the one and only outlier so unlikable that audiences killed him off by popular vote.

But this claim ignores a massive piece of the puzzle—the Robin role has long been treated as an outdated remnant of a childish era, not only by a significant share of Batman fans, but also by Batman creative teams. While there were definitely fans who hated Jason Todd, he was at least partly chosen to be killed as a scapegoat for some long-standing complaints about the Robin role in Batman stories.

The 1988 poll to kill Jason Todd wasn't just a poll to kill Jason Todd—the poll to kill Robin was a poll to kill Robin.

Fan letters columns from Batman #221 and Detective Comics #398, reacting to Dick leaving for Hudson University in Batman #217 (1969):

Denny O'Neil Batman/Detective Comics writer (1970-1980) Batman group editor (1986-2000) on sending Robin away to Hudson University:

Dan Greenfield: Actually, last night I went back through my comics and the one thing that always strikes me is that before you came onto the character, they’d already made the decision to have Robin leave. Robin was up at Hudson University and was used sparingly from that point forward. Denny O’Neil: Well, that was a conscious decision of mine. Greenfield: Oh! O’Neil: Yeah, I mean … I had been offered Batman a year before I did it. Greenfield: No kidding? I wanna hear this. O’Neil: Because that was in the (Batman TV show) camp thing. The comics were very half-heartedly following in the footsteps of the camp because it was having a palpable effect on circulation. That’s not always true but it was in that case. Camp as in the sense — as opposed to the more erudite sense — this one-line joke about: “I loved this stuff when I was 6 and now that I’m 28 and I have a bi-weekly appointment with a therapist and a little, mild drug habit and two divorces, ‘Look how silly it is.'” I would go into the most literary bar in Greenwich Village on (Wednesday) or Thursday evenings and there would be writers and poets and college professors, all looking at Batman! But when that was over, it was over. It was like somebody turned a switch. And that’s when (editor) Julie (Schwartz) said, in his avuncular way, did I have any ideas for Batman? And at that point, I wasn’t going to be asked to do camp. I was going to be asked to do anything within the bounds of good taste, etc., that I wanted to.

O'Neil, quoted from “Notes from the Batcave: An Interview with Dennis O’Neil” in The Many Lives of The Batman: Critical Approaches to a Superhero and His Media:

There was a time right before I took over as Batman editor when he seemed to be much closer to a family man, much closer to a nice guy. He seemed to have a love life and he seemed to be very paternal towards Robin. My version is a lot nastier than that. He has a lot more edge to him.

O'Neil in 2015:

Modern Batman does not do camp. He has to evolve but to stay true to the concept he has to stay lonely. The kids, there shouldn't be many. Keep him the lone, obsessed crusader and the stories will be better. We did a story called Son of the Demon. It told a story where he had a kid, a baby. It wasn't in continuity. These days, the kid came back and became the new Robin, and I hear that Batman's got a few more running around.

Jim Starlin, Batman writer (1987-1988), writer of A Death in the Family:

I tried to avoid using [Robin] as much as I could. In most of my early Batman stories, he doesn’t appear. Eventually Denny asked me to do a specific Robin story, which I did, and I guess it went over fairly well from what I understand. But I wasn’t crazy about Robin.

I thought that going out and fighting crime in a grey and black outfit while you send out a kid in primary colors was kind of like child abuse. So when I started working on Batman, I was always leaving Robin out of the stories, and Denny O’Neil who is the editor finally said, "You gotta put [Robin] in."

youtube

In the one Batman issue I wrote with Robin featured, I had him do something underhanded, as I recall. Denny had told me that the character was very unpopular with fans, so I decided to play on that dislike. [...] At that time, DC had this idea that they were gonna do an AIDS education book, and so they put a box out and wanted everybody to put in suggestions of who should contract AIDS and perish in the comics. I stuffed it with Robin. They realized it was all my handwriting so they ended up throwing all my things out. About six months later, Denny came up with this idea of the call-in thing. [...] I didn’t find out about it until I came back [from Mexico] and found out that, just as I expected, my ghoulish little fans voted him dead. But by a much smaller margin than I’d imagined. It was only like 72 votes out of 10,000, so statistically it was next to nothing.

Dan Raspler, assistant editor/associate editor to Denny O’Neil (1988-1990):

Denny wasn’t really interested in comics continuity, and he didn’t like superheroes. And if you read his work, you see his influence was really a pushing away from the conventions at the time—it was growing old, that sort of Golden Age-y, Silver Age-y stuff, and Denny sort of modernized it, and he never stopped feeling that way. Jim Starlin’s Batman appealed to Denny. It was a little more ‘down to Earth. Nobody liked Robin at the time. For a while Robin was not—it didn’t make sense in comics. Comics were darkening, and so having the kid was just, it was silly, and even at the time I kind of didn’t. Now Robin is my favorite all-time character, but at the time when I was twenty-whatever, I accepted kicking Robin out, the short pants and all the rest of it.

Comic shop owner Phil Beracha on A Death in the Family, quoted in The Sun Sentinel (October 22, 1988):

"I got 100 copies, and I don't expect them to last past the weekend," said Phil Beracha, owner of Phil's Comic Shoppe in Margate. "I usually get 50 copies of Batman. I doubled my order, and I still expect to sell out." The readers voted right, Beracha said. "Robin is an outdated concept. He was created in the `40s, and back then in a comic book you could have a kid beating up grown men. I don't think that works today."

Writer Steve Englehart, quoted in "Batman, the Gamble; Warner Bros. is betting big money that a 50-year-old comic book vigilante will be a `hero for our times'" in the Los Angeles Times (June 18, 1989):

Writer Steven Englehart, who did a series of Batman stories in Detective Comics, also worked up some movie treatments. In a letter to Comics Buyer's Guide, he revealed the approach he had in mind, which would have pleased Batfanatics: "My first treatment had Robin getting blown away in the first 90 seconds, so that every reviewer in the country would begin his review with, `This sure isn't the TV show.' "

Michael Uslan, producer and film rights holder for the 1989 Batman film:

I only let Tim [Burton] see the original year of the Bob Kane/Bill Finger run, up until the time that Robin was introduced. I showed him the Steve Englehart/Marshall Rogers and the Neal Adams/Denny O'Neil stories. My biggest fear was that somehow Tim would get hold of the campiest Batman comics and then where would we be?

"Death Knell for the Campy Crusader" in the Orlando Sentinel (23 June 1989):

For most people, the name Batman summons up a picture of a clown in long johns, a Campy Crusader who - with the young punster Robin - ZAPed and POWed his way into our lives. That's the Batman that appeared on TV in the mid-'60s, and that's the Batman that the world at large knows. Such is the power of television. But this ludicrous image may become obsolete now that the new, $40 million Batman movie has opened. Robin is absent from the film, as are the perky Batgirl and the utterly superfluous Aunt Harriet of the TV series. And though the movie has plenty of sound effects, they don't appear on the screen as words, spelled out in neo-Brechtian absurdity.

Sam Hamm, writer for Batman (1989 live-action film):

The Case of the Disappearing Robin is high comedy. Tim (Burton) and I had worked out a plotline that did not include the Boy Wonder, whom we both regarded as an unnecessary intrusion. Really: Our hero was crazy to begin with. Did he have to prove it by enlisting a pimply adolescent to help him fight crime? Was Bat-Baby unavailable? But the studio was insistent: There was no such thing as solo Batman, there was only Batman and Robin. So, after holding off the executives for as long as we could, Tim and I realized we had better try to accommodate them. He flew up to my house in San Francisco and we walked around in circles for two days, finally deciding that there was no way to shoehorn Robin into our story. [...] We figured that if we managed to squeeze him in, the lame hacks who were making the sequel could worry about what to do with him next. When the film went into production in London, and ran seriously over budget, WB started looking for a sequence that could be cut to save money. And there was one obvious candidate: Intro Robin! So Robin was cut from the movie and shoved back to Batman Returns— from which he was cut yet again and shoved back to Batman Forever.

Grant Morrison on creating Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth (written 1987-1988, published 1989) with Dave McKean (see the annotated script's fourth page):

The original first draft of the script included Robin. Robin appeared in a few scenes at the beginning then remained at Police Headquarters for the bulk of the book, where he spent his time studying plans and histories of the house, in order to find a way in to help his mentor. Dave McKean, however, felt that he had already compromised his artistic integrity sufficiently by drawing Batman and refused point blank over for the Boy Wonder — so after one brave but ridiculous attempt to put him in a trench coat, I wisely removed him from the script.

Paul Dini on Batman: The Animated Series (1992), as told in the 1998 book Batman Animated:

The Fox Network, on the assumption that kids won't watch a kid’s show unless kids are in it, soon began insisting that Robin be prominently featured in every episode. When Fox changed the title from Batman: The Animated Series to The Adventures of Batman & Robin, they laid down the law-no story premise was to be considered unless it was either a Robin story or one in which the Boy Wonder played a key role. Out were underworld character studies like “It's Never Too Late"; in were traditional Batman and Robin escapades like “The Lion and the Unicorn.” A potentially intriguing Catwoman/Black Canary team-up was interrupted in midpitch to the network by their demand, “Where's Robin?” When the writers asked if they could omit Robin from just this one episode, Fox obliged by omitting the entire story. Looking back, there was nothing drastically wrong with Robin's full-time insertion into the series—after all, kids do love him. Our major gripe at the time was that it started turning the series into the predictable Batman and Robin show people had initially expected it would be. For the first season, Batman had been an experiment we weren't sure would work. We were trying out different ways of telling all kinds of stories with Batman as our only constant. For better or worse, having a kid forced him, and the series, to settle down.

Christian Bale, star of Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight trilogy (2008):

If Robin crops up in one of the new Batman films, I'll be chaining myself up somewhere and refusing to go to work.

Summed up

Among the keepers of Batman, there has been a vocal contingent arguing against the inclusion of Robin. They argue that Robin damages Batman's brooding, solitary persona. They argue that the concept of Robin is too ridiculous and fantastic for the grounded, gritty ideal of Batman. They argue that a respectable version of Batman shouldn't allow, encourage, or train "child soldiers" to endanger their lives fighting against violent evil-doers.

The original and most iconic Robin, Dick Grayson, has definitely benefited from his deep roots in DC lore and his consistent popularity among fans—and yet even he has been shunned from various Batman projects over the decades. When even he struggles to get his foot in the door, his successors face stiffer opposition.

So it's not quite correct to say that Jim Starlin hated Jason Todd. In his own words, Starlin wasn't fond of Robin, and his storytelling (most obviously A Death in the Family) set out to argue against Batman having any kind of "partner" at all. This, following the wildly successful comic that treated Barbara Gordon as a disposable prop. A growing audience welcomed the Dark Age, and the gruesome spectacles made of kid-friendly elements like Batgirl and Robin.

This trend could be broken by the upcoming sequel to The Batman and by the planned slate of upcoming DCU films. But most Robin fans will tell you that many movie-going Batman fans still have their doubts about Robin sharing Batman's spotlight.

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