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blublublujk · 6 months

Text

bound 2 (falling in love)

oneshot

word count: 6.5k

genre: fwb to lovers

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary:

You and Yoongi were okay with being friends with benefits... until you weren't.

warnings: i tried to focus on fluff (did you catch it or did i fail), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (they make love to each other), choking and breath play (hello it's yoongi), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, crying (is it really my ff if there's no crying involved), creampie, very cute aftercare and i think that’s all, this is more sweet than anything lol

a.n: believe it or not this wasn't apart of my drafts i wrote this all one night because i couldn't sleep so thank my insomnia for this, it was about time i write about yoongi :D

also i noticed a lot of you are reading it was destiny and love always wins and i wish you guys wouldn't only because i plan to rewrite some of it and continue them at a further time (chaptered ffs are so hard for me rn since i don't have all the time in the world to dedicate myself to them but i promise to be back with those two series) thank you for everyone who takes time to read what i write it really means so much and your comments have been so motivating. thank you so fucking much for 2k notes on good girl, gone bad i havent seen numbers like that ever im so so grateful, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i'll try to be back one or two more times this month and happy late birthday to me hehe <3

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

It happened again.

Another failed date to add to the sad list of people that simply will never workout for you.

The list was growing longer as months passed. When you started this list, it was barely the start of a very hot summer. Probably the hottest it’s been in years, one can only assume the winter will not be any easier.

And you were right. Winter was only beginning and it was brutally cold. The streets were moist from the previous night of harsh rainfall.

What better time to date and settle down than now. When the world gives you rain, settle for the warm arms of a lover.

Unfortunately, you made a grave mistake thinking this would come easy. Ten first dates later and you are still very single and loverless.

It is not easy to go out during a time like now, suffering at the sight of happy couples and their stupid happy lives. Really, it should disgust you. It used to. The whole concept of devoting your entire life to someone. The need to constantly feel the tender touch of another person. The desire to fall in love and do it all over again, you get it now. At least, you think you do.

“I don’t think this is gonna work.” The words fall from your mouth in a quiet rush. The man across you sits in silence before he smiles in his loss.

“Don’t worry, I figured. It seems your mind was elsewhere. I know you don’t want to pursue anything romantically, and that’s fine with me, but is everything okay?”

Is everything okay? Well currently, yeah you’re okay. As for your heart, it’s heavy and strangely, you feel there’s a hole in your chest and it needs to be filled. That would fix things, you think. You have been single for so long that you forgot what it was like to love and cherish someone. Not that you have ever truly loved or cherished anyone, but you’ve gotten close. If a silly relationship you had in your sophomore year of high school counts. Then yes, you’ve totally been in love.

“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I didn’t mean to lead you on, if it ever felt like I did.” The apology seems bitter in your mouth. Another failed fucking attempt. How difficult can dating be? Have you really been this disconnected with the world around you?

“Don’t stress it! Things happen. I hope you can find what you’re looking for. See you… around?” The man’s understanding response makes you feel worse. Maybe you should consider deleting Tinder and finding love naturally, if that’s still a thing in the contemporary life.

“Yeah, totally!” And like that you’re off to the next. Giving yourself plenty of time to bathe in your disappointment and miserably cry about your failed attempts at finding what you’ve been missing. Who knew dating could be so difficult?

The walk back home is just as cold as the outcome of today’s date. Your date insisted he could drive you home and if not that then pay for a cab, but you didn’t live too far from the restaurant you both met at. Though he insisted, you figured this walk could refresh you after yet another failure. You were starting to regret it as the cold wind started roughly hitting your skin. Preserving the chilly weather, you genuinely couldn’t wait to get home and wrap yourself in a bundle of warm blankets and comfortable clothes.

Cold hands struggle to open your door, you blow on them with warm puffs of breaths, soon making your way in and getting comfortable in your humble apartment.

yoon: you up?

And that, that is what made this harder. The fact that you knew there was someone completely capable of loving and caring for you the way you desired. You have seen it with your own eyes. Every time you ended up in his bed, in his arms, you felt it. Deep down you know something is there and that something beats everything else. Maybe you’re just delusional, but you look for him in everyone else and you hate it. Hate because you will never be anything more than his personal little whore that comes at the sound of his call.

me: yeah

Normally, you aren’t dry over texts, especially not with him so he’ll see right through you. You’re hoping for once, he can ignore it.

He won't.

yoon: you ok?

me: been better

yoon: wanna talk about it?

me: no, i'm ok

yoon: ok, wanna come over?

Yes, because during a time like this all you want is the comfort and warmth of someone else’s touch and Yoongi has never failed at giving that to you. But he is not yours.

And you are not his.

me: not feeling well. sorry.

yoon: sick?

A white lie never hurt anyone.

me: yeah, throat hurts

yoon: im sorry

me: it's not your fault maybe another time.

Though you really shouldn’t say that. There should be no next time. That way you don’t suffer any longer and drag him down with you, considering everything you’ve been feeling and dealing with lately. It’s not fair to Yoongi, but especially yourself.

He doesn’t reply anymore and you can’t even hide your disappointment. You aren’t disappointed at him, okay maybe a little bit at him, but mainly yourself and your recently found complicated feelings.

You and Yoongi started this whole mess a year ago, before you even realized what you truly wanted. It started off with subtle flirting here and there. They say not to mess with coworkers, given that it can complicate things at work and one should never play with their main source of income, but you did it anyway. You are still young and he only made you feel younger, like a teenage girl crushing over her forbidden crush at church. It was silly, but Yoongi made it easy.

The flirting turned to one thing, then another.

“We shouldn’t, not here.” Yoongi had you pinned outside the club you both worked at, leaving trails of wet kisses down your throat.

“Five more minutes.” His words were muffled into your skin as his hands explored your body. Yoongi’s touch was always way too soft for his own good and you fell victim to his deadly warmth.

“If Mr. Kim finds out, he’ll kill us and fire us both.” That was a bit dramatic on your part and you swore you felt the taller smiling against your neck.

Yoongi drops one last kiss on your cheek as his hot breath hits your ear. “Not if I kill him first.”

You gasped, pushing him off you with a quick smack to his chest. “D-Don’t even joke like that.”

Yoongi just laughed.

“Okay, okay baby.” The term of endearment fell from his lips too easily and you melted into the dark night. “See you after work?”

You only nodded, not being able to deny his temporary warmth and sweet presence. Then he dropped a kiss on your lips, leaving you just as quick as when he first found you. You were fucked.

From there, it only got worse for your sake. Your heart could only take so much.

Really, you should blame things on him. It was his fault you fell in love with him and his stupidly soft hands. It was all his fault! He left you no choice but to love the feel of his lips against your skin, to easily melt under his soft gaze, and find comfort in his unnecessarily warm bed. Yoongi was perfect. Everything you could ever want.

That’s why it was so fucking hard. Dating was hard enough, but after feeling Yoongi’s intimate touch, you were a complete goner. Though he was far from it, Yoongi touched you like you were his and he would fuck you like a lover would. Kissing and making love to you as if you were the most beautiful woman on Earth. It was all too much.

Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.

The knock on your door makes you jump from your couch.

Ten minutes longer and you would have fallen asleep exactly where you were lying. In outside clothes and all. You didn’t even bother taking off the outfit you had carefully planned thinking that this lucky outfit would have finally taken you somewhere. It didn’t.

“Coming!” There’s not a single person that should be outside your door, especially at this hour. Your feet make their way to the door regardless and the blood from your face drains when you see the person standing behind the door.

Quickly, you unlock your front door, rushing the taller inside. “Hurry! It’s freezing! What are you doing out here?”

Yoongi’s cheeks are surely frozen, a pink dust decorates his cheeks and the tip of his nose. It almost makes him look cute. You were far more gone than you imagined.

He hustles inside, carrying a fairly large brown bag with him. He brought… groceries?

“Took you long enough.” The taller one makes himself at home, laying his bag on your coffee table.

“What are you even doing here?” You ask again.

He ignores you. “Thought you said you were sick. You don’t look very sick?”

Yoongi looks at you with a questioning look, his eyes wander your outfit and guilt starts eating your insides.

You cross your arms, an attempt to hide yourself in shame, but what’s done is done. “I- I had plans.”

“Yeah, I see that.” He simply says, standing awkwardly in your living area.

If this doesn’t convince you to delete that forsaken app for the sake of your dignity and shameful behavior, you don’t know what will.

“Anyways, w-what brings you here?”

“Brought you some stuff.” His hand waves over to the bag he carried inside.

“Stuff?” You question, a bit dumbfounded, planted still in your place.

“Tea, cough drops, some soup I made earlier this week. Oh and flowers.” Yoongi doesn’t seem at all embarrassed or fazed about the situation. Not that he should be, but he speaks with a puff to his chest, as if he wanted to ensure you understood his every word and action. Like any concerned lover would be. As if he was yours and you were his.

Oh.

This was so so bad. For you and your weak heart. Fuck.

“I-“

He cuts you off before you even get to speak. “I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s just some plain seaweed soup. Usually helps me when I’m sick. I’m not sure what flowers you like, or if you even like flowers. Do you? Their tulips. I did a bit of research before. My mom likes tulips. I figured you might like them too.”

He did research? Double fuck!

Yoongi was nervously rambling, now he was slightly embarrassed. Pink flushes his cheeks and it wasn’t the weather’s doing this time.

“Yoongi…” You start breathlessly and in disbelief.

“What?” He nearly stutters, his hand is shaking. He’s nervous. Who would have thought?

“Why.” Is all you manage to ask.

“You were sick.” Is all he replies. As if things were really that simple. What next? Would he come rushing to the hospital if you suddenly fell ill? God forbid, but it was a valid question.

What was going on? For a second, you entertain the idea. Maybe he fell in love between the blurry lines of this complicated relationship. Were the shared intimate memories too special for him to forget too? You weren’t sure anymore, but what did this all mean? Maybe he loves you, as much as you love him.

Thoughts keep spinning and you wish there was an easier way to turn off your brain. Not now.

“I know, but why? Why all this? Why for me?” Your vulnerability is showing and it makes you feel weak. Maybe your hands are shaking too.

“I don't understand?” Yoongi searches for the answer in your glossy eyes, he’s tempted to reach out and comfort you. Have you in his hands, but he’s too coward. He doesn’t want you to feel the shiver of his touch right now. His vulnerability peaks through as well.

Why not you? It’s always going to be you.

“I-I’m nothing to you.” There’s a shiver again and then you break.

Yoongi doesn’t care anymore. He’ll consider the consequences later. Right now, none of it matters.

His hands hold your face, ready to wipe the tears that threaten to leak from your precious eyes. He hopes his hands aren't cold anymore from standing outside for so damn long, but he couldn’t stop himself, in his selfishness and all.

His hands shake slightly, trying to stay strong as he lays it all on the table. “Y/N, you’re everything to me.” He whispers, eyes never leaving yours.

You lay your own hands on his, you feel so delicate around him when you wrap warm hands around his cold wrists.

“I-I am?” You ask between sniffles. His hands are still pretty cold, but they’ll soon warm up against your soft skin. Nobody knows how desperately you need to be touched until you are and then it’s like little fireworks spark inside your body. It consumes you in the best way possible.

“Of course. I thought I made that obvious.” His eyes are soft, different to how he typically looks at you, but you’ve seen these same eyes before. They are no stranger. It’s similar to the look he gives you when you catch him staring at you while you are deep in work. He pretends to look away as if he wasn’t admiring you from afar and you pretend that you don’t notice his curious eyes. It’s the same look he has after you both end up in heated makeout sessions, behind the rusty club you both work at. And it’s definitely the same look he has while he settles on top of you, whispering sweet words of praise and promise.

Nothing should feel different but it just does, there’s something in the way he looks down at you that lets you know that everything you’ve been searching for has always been right here. Right where you’ve been all along.

The taller leans in and you freeze struggling to keep your eyes on his. Yoongi’s thumb brushes against your cheek with a soft touch. You were fragile between his hands and he’s willing to do anything to keep his precious flower safe. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes. Please.” You whisper back in a hurry, scared that this would be nothing but a dream. It wasn’t time for you to wake up yet.

His eyes zero-in on your lips and then he’s kissing you. It’s not much different from other times. After all, you guys have shared plenty of kisses, probably more than you should have considering you guys were friends with benefits, at most. But this time, the kiss isn’t just a careless lust-filled doing, no this time the kiss is a promise. The promise to never again allow you to question his feelings and intentions towards you.

If Yoongi has to spend his whole life making this up to you, he simply would because that’s how much you meant to him. He can’t believe he even let this go on for this long. He should have been more clear and careful, but he doesn’t regret a damn thing. Not when he has all the time in the world to repair the time lost. And especially not when his reckless actions led him to this. To you.

Yoongi’s lips are soft and bend with yours with ease. He takes his time, never in a rush. Especially not when he has you in-hand.

The taller doesn’t escalate the kiss. He keeps it sweet and gentle, like he always has been. “I’m so sorry baby.”

Kiss.

“For?”

Kiss.

Yoongi has the whole world in his hands right now as he looks down into the sparkles in your eyes and he’s never been so sure about anything in his life. “For being a fucking idiot.”

Kiss.

“It’s okay.” A kiss is shared again. “I was an idiot too. I was just scared that you wouldn’t want that with me.”

“Want what?” The taller questions, fingers trailing your face, admiring the imperfections and all.

“A relationship, I mean. You seemed content with how our relationship already was. I was afraid of losing that. Of losing you.” You admit, eyes fluttering at his touch.

“Of course, I want that. I want that and more. I-I’m not the best with relationships. I’m only saying this because I want to be open and honest with you. There’s not a second you aren’t on my mind. While at work, you are all I can see. In a crowd of a hundred, my eyes always find yours. I don’t know how to explain what you do to me. But I don’t mind. I think if I ever lost that, I would lose my mind. So I’m sorry if I ever made you feel the opposite. There’s so much more I want to say, but I just don’t know how. I want that. I want that so bad. A relationship and whatever more you give me. I might not be the best boyfriend but I’ll do whatever it takes. I- I love you.” Yoongi’s words are heartfelt and he’s so relieved. One because he’s been keeping this in for so long, any longer and he would have exploded, but second because he’s been dying to say those three words. He really does love you and Yoongi doesn’t love many people in life, but if he had to choose, it’s always gonna be you.

The tears that were creeping on your eye-lids fall prettily down your face, but Yoongi comes to your rescue. He’s quick to wipe them off your pretty face, tempted to kiss them away, but he keeps that in for now. “Y-Yoongi… I love you too. So much. I think I always have. You are so easy to love. The way you look at me, care for me, and always show up for me. That says more about you than anything else. I tried dating to get over what I felt for you, as you can probably tell, but nothing worked. It was so easy, Yoongi. So easy to fall in love with you. You’re perfect and I don’t doubt that you’ll be the best even after all this. I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you. Fuck, I love you.” Yoongi kisses you again and this time he isn’t as gentle. His lips are still soft as ever as they curl around yours. His tongue comes out and you immediately allow access, letting him explore your mouth. The taste is much better now that there isn’t anything you both are holding back. Everything down on the line and you couldn’t be happier. The hole in your heart was never empty, it was just waiting for this exact moment to remind you that you’ve always had it all.

“Yoongi.” In between breaths you call his name and Yoongi feels his knees lock. “Take me to bed.”

Yoongi just nods in a trance with the way your tone drips of arousal. A long strand of hair falls on his face when he picks you up with ease off your feet. He takes you to the place he’s had the honor to visit a hundred times before, but it’s different this time, much different.

In the process of it all, something falls and it causes you both to laugh until you run out of breath.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You laugh into his ear. “You owe me a new lamp. My mother bought me that, you know. House-warming gift.”

“Fuck, sorry.” Yoongi mumbles near a whisper as he grips you harder like he’s afraid he might drop you next and the idea makes you giggle because you know he would never purposely hurt you. “I’ll apologize to your mother directly. Buy you and her a new lamp, whatever it takes.”

“What makes you think you are meeting my mother?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the blush rise on his cheeks.

“Well, I figured we could, you know, if you would like–” Yoongi doesn’t often get shy about many things but he can’t keep calm around you and that kills him softly.

“I’m just teasing you.” You say and he bites his lip. “Of course you’ll meet my mother and my father and my nosy ass family. I hope you like annoying, persistent grandma’s that stuff you full. My grandma’s the worst of her kind, but she’ll love you.”

“I would love to.” Yoongi simply replies, still whispering as if you guys had to keep quiet or else you’d be in deep trouble.

“Why are we still whispering?” You whisper back, roaming fingers through his long, gorgeous hair. He needs to remind you to thank his mother personally for insisting he keep his hair long because it made him look pretty and you could never disagree. Yoongi’s so pretty.

“I-I don’t know.”

You both smile at each other before sharing another kiss. It’s so sweet and if you weren’t already off your feet, you would be floating by now. He’s gentle when letting you drop into the sheets below, he finds space between your legs and you wrap them around his hips. Lips still in contact, never losing the plushy feel.

Everything starts to feel hot. Your hips start to slowly grind against his begging for any sort of friction. But the kissing doesn’t stop.

Not when you start whining against his lips.

Not even when Yoongi starts trailing his fingers down your waist and around your curves. He teases his fingertips against your waistline, soft to the touch.

It’s not until you mewl loudly into his mouth, skillful tongue playing with yours, as you feel him start unbuckling your pants, button-by-button.

Yoongi’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his gaze burning fire. “Gonna take care of you now, is that okay?”

You furiously nod, coming up to kiss him once more, both your lips are raw and sensitive, but it gives you more of a reason to fix it with even more kisses.

He drops one quick kiss onto your mouth before he trails down your jaw. Yoongi breathes in the sweet scent on your skin, wishing he could feel you even closer. “Smell so damn good.”

His voice is raspy against your ear and it makes you blush, while you feel his hand finally touch you where you had been aching with need. “Wanna hear you.”

Breathing lightly, you whisper. “Make me.”

And of course, Yoongi makes you regret how fast you said the words because he delves his fingers forward with little resistance. Two fingers stretch you at the same time, gasping at the sudden sensation.

By now, you were molded to fit Yoongi’s fingers. On days where you were really in need, you would take four, all at once. Yoongi was best at reading every expression, every crease and scrunch to your face, especially emotions. He knew exactly how to curve his fingers, the way to build you up, and bring you back down. Yoongi knew it all and he was so lucky too.

He never anticipated it would have gone this far. It was just sex to begin with. But who were you both kidding, it was always much, much more.

Yoongi curves his fingers in the way he’s used to and watches your mouth drop, sweet noises soon leaving your lips. “Feels good?”

There’s no need to ask because he can tell. Your expression tells him everything he needs to know. That and the fact that you are dripping around his fingers but it’s sexier hearing it from you.

“Yeah… f-feels so good.” With his other hand he tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare on the bottom. Remembering the first few times is a bit embarrassing, but Yoongi always made sure to take his time and make you feel comfortable. It was special and memorable in its own way, and Yoongi felt it too.

This is unlike any first time, but it was technically the first time you could officially make love to each other until you fall lovesick and that had to be impossible around someone like Yoongi.

“Hold your legs open for me, flower.” You try to ignore the warm feeling that buzzes in your chest, but you are sure your face says it all. Without another word, you spread your legs open, tucking both hands behind your thighs.

“Flower?” You breathe out with a bit of a struggle as his two fingers continue to pump deep inside you, brushing repeatedly against your g-spot.

“Do you not like it?” Yoongi smiles slightly, biting his bottom lip while he watches you start to tremble, making the prettiest sounds.

“I do. Why the new name?” Voice a bit unsteady but it does the job. Yoongi thinks of all the times he thought you were as pretty as a flower, which really was all the time. Especially, in the way he has you right now. Pretty, pretty as a flower.

“I’ve always wanted to call you that. You’re pretty, sweet, delicate. Just like a flower.” He justifies his reasoning and you melt into puddles.

“Yoongi.” Voice sweet as honey.

“Yes baby.” He replies with ease.

“Make love to me, Yoongi.”

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love. How foolish of him to think so. When he met you, it was a complete three-sixty. Suddenly, Yoongi started to look forward to his shit job. He looked forward to that time between breaks where he could admire you from the back like a pinning loser. Yoongi even started to like the walks he had to take to get to work because he knew that the path would eventually lead to you. He started looking forward to tomorrow's and to the bright future that led ahead. His mom would often complain that he was wasting his life away waiting for it to start, but Yoongi thinks life truly started the day he met you.

It was a bit awkward because you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, intimated by the staff and new environment. You had previously worked in different bars so you assumed it would be no different and it wasn’t, but the intimidation of a new job was there nonetheless. Yoongi was there every step of the way. He had a crush on the new employee and you needed help on fitting in. Either way, your friendship was very platonic until it wasn’t.

Yoongi knows he should have said something along the lines “hey, maybe we shouldn't be doing this anymore. I’m in love with you and I have been since you started working here” but the stupid words never made it out. He felt it would be too much to hear and it would only make him look like a complete loser.

And you felt the same. It was silly really, because everyone around you knew it and there was no reason to fear someone as easy going and non-judgemental as Yoongi, nonetheless it brought you both here. After many failed dating attempts, you were finally happy and in the arms of someone who you truly love and want to be loved by.

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love, now Yoongi believes your precious, sweet love brought him back to life and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Clothes now discarded on the floor, heavy breathing filling the room, and Yoongi could get wasted on the smell of your intoxicating perfume. “Breathe flower.”

Yoongi felt you shiver at the sound of his words, throwing your head back as he thrusts you full of cock. He pushes inside you with gentle movements, struggling to keep himself up while feeling the tug of your warm velvet-like walls.

You gasp feeling him hit your cervix in a calm, slow pace. It was breathtaking regardless of the gentle rhythm. “You’re so deep...”

“I know flower, breathe baby, breathe.” He is struggling to keep from coming inside you, overwhelmed by his own emotions as your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure rise in your belly. Without a condom, everything feels so different from other times, feeling every ridge and crease fold inside your drenching heat. You take him so nicely, like you always have. Like you’ve always belonged to him.

You don’t even notice you stopped breathing until you start feeling lightheaded and desperate for fresh air. Breathing just as much as necessary so you don’t faint, you shake your head against his hold, his eyes watch yours, observing with curiosity.

“No?”

“Mm, n-no.” You shake your head again, whimpering when you feel him kiss your cervix with his swollen tip, over and over and over. “Can– can you…”

“Can I what, pretty flower?” Yoongi rolls his hips a bit faster, feeling his orgasm build too quickly. He wishes he could have days with you like this always. Days to love and worship you from head to toe.

“Choke me.” You manage to say. “Don— don’t wanna breathe.”

Yoongi growls deep, increasing his speed even more, desperate to fill the deepest part of your glistening folds. He feels you tense underneath, the sounds coming from your mouth are loud enough for your neighbors to hear, but Yoongi stopped giving a fuck about everything around him.

He places a hand on your throat and squeezes gently, not blocking off your airways completely, but leaving you just enough air to work with. It drives you insane. The more you breathe, his rough thrusts take the air out from your lungs and the process repeats. It feels so good.

“M-more. Harder.” You barely hear your own words, but Yoongi seems to understand because his dick is moving rapidly inside you, nearly splitting you in two. You wrap both hands around his wrist, loving the heavy weight against your chest. It’ll end too soon and it disappoints you in a way, but you have all the time in the world to make this up. “G-Gonna come.”

Yoongi nods, concentrating on the way your face scrunches with pleasure. With love. The way your eyes tell him a story. God, Yoongi’s madly in love. “Come, my precious flower.”

With those final words, you come on his bare slick cock, blossoming in the blissful afterglow. Yoongi doesn’t stop thrusting inside you, but he takes his hand off your throat, kissing your face gently when he sees tears start leaking down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, you’re okay baby. Breathe for me. Slowly.” Yoongi’s words bring you back down and you throw your arms around him, crying against his shoulder. You don’t even know what invoked this strong emotion to sob your eyes out, but Yoongi allows it, caressing the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t judge, he only holds you until you settle down. “It’s okay baby, let it out. Breathe, pretty flower.”

“C-Come inside muh-me, please.” Even after all that, you still beg for him and Yoongi wants to laugh but for your sake and the fact that it’s endearing to him, he delivers accordingly without further questions.

Right as he’s going to paint your walls white, he pushes himself up with one hand, still holding you with the other. “You sure?”

You’re confused about the sudden question, the tears still decorate your face but then you understand. “Birth control. Just come in me Yoongi, fuck me, fu-fuck.”

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to regain his brutal pace, fucking you with purpose. Not that he doesn’t want kids in the near future, but he sure as hell doesn’t want any right now. He’s glad you are on the same page but maybe one day the conversation would spark and he wouldn’t want the mother of his kids to be anyone else but you. You were perfect for him.

“Gonna come.” That’s the only warning you get, then he’s emptying himself inside your tight walls. He doesn’t stop rolling his hips, his slit leaking puddles, until he’s pumped himself dry. With one last thrust, he groans and carefully pulls out.

He brings you with him, head falling against his chest as he continues to play with your hair, leaving kisses into your bare shoulders. “You okay baby?”

“Perfect. Feel so good.” You mumble into his skin, feeling around his waist. “I’m leaking your come into the sheets though.”

“I’ll take care of it, pretty flower.” You nod sleepily into his chest with a quiet ‘thank you’, feeling completely sated and satisfied, aching with exhaustion. “Sleep baby, I got you.”

With that, you fall deep into the shackles of sleep. Yoongi rubs your back until you completely fall asleep in his arms. He struggles to unwrap himself from your hold, but when he finally succeeds, he tucks you in and kisses your cheek a few times before getting up to clean up after the mess you both created.

He’s light on his feet, bringing a warm towel to your slick folds and wipes as best he can, being gentle so you could continue to enjoy your sleep. Even like this, you look so beautiful and Yoongi is an extremely lucky man.

Yoongi makes sure to also pick up the lamp he dropped from earlier as well. He blows out a breath of relief when he notices that the damage is nothing big and nothing that can’t be fixed. He’ll make sure to fix that as soon as he can.

While he’s out there, Yoongi places the tulips into a vase and fills it with water, placing it near a window where it could grow and blossom beautifully near the sunlight. He even cuts the tips into slants because he had heard somewhere online they last longer that way, making sure to get rid of any dead leaves and petals. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

After he’s done with the light cleaning, he washes his hands and feels the exhaustion hit him tenfold. He’s careful when placing himself back in bed, lifting your arm and placing himself underneath you. The man smiles when he feels you curl yourself around him, sleeping soundlessly.

“I love you.” He whispers and even though you don’t say it back Yoongi feels it with the way you melt into his arms. Yoongi falls asleep easily that night.

…

“Baby.” Yoongi hears someone call him and he ignores it. Sleep calls his name louder and he doesn’t feel like waking up right now so he groans and cuddles deeper into the bedsheets below him, unaware of the life around him.

��Baby wake up.” You keep calling sweetly and it’s tempting but he persists.

“No. Don’t wanna.” Yoongi grumbles like an old man and you can’t help but to laugh. “Just ten more minutes.”

When you woke up the next morning, you were so thankful Yoongi had kept his promise. Your apartment was flawless and you were as clean as you could be. The tulips looked prettier today as the sun shined on the delicate petals. You even had time to warm the seaweed soup he brought from home and you couldn’t wait to get a taste. The smell alone is delicious and it warmed your home up nicely, you truly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was no longer a dream but your reality. You could definitely get used to this.

You drop kisses onto his warm cheeks until his eyes flutter open, almost similar to a cat. “There you are.”

Yoongi pulls you into his arms again with quiet noncoherent grumbles and closes his eyes once more. “Give me ten minutes.”

“It’s already been ten.” You whisper lightly laughing.

“Oh. Ten more then.” You get comfortable on his chest and cuddle for a bit longer because you can’t say no to his cute sleepy self.

Yoongi starts to sniff the air with curiosity. “Is that the seaweed soup I brought you?”

“Mhm.” You hum. “Better get up soon before it burns.”

That manages to be convincing enough and Yoongi forces himself up, with you in his embrace.

“Wanna wake up like that forever.” He says, voice filled with sleep.

“You can.”

Yoongi snaps his heavy eyes towards you. “Are you–”

“Move in with me, Yoongi.” Yes, you skipped every step to this, but nothing was ever to code between you and Yoongi. One thing you were so sure of and that was spending the rest of your life with him. “Please.”

“I- yes, of course.” Yoongi wraps his arms around you for a tight hug, kissing your temple. “I love you. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every single day.”

“I know, I love you too. I love you.” Those three words come out from your mouths so easily and it’s nice that you no longer have to ever hold back. The man of your dreams is in the palms of your humble home and he’s in love with you. This was better than any dream.

“Let’s eat?” He says after some time of hugging and kisses being interchanged.

You nod, letting him take you there. Your kitchen is filled with the cruel aroma of food and your tummy rumbles as you sit comfortably while you wait for him to serve you a bowl of the warm tasty soup.

“I should be doing that. I’m a terrible host.” Yoongi shakes his head while smiling, the fluff of hair moving with him, then your phone dings. “Hold on, give me a second.”

Your heart drops when you see it is a Tinder notification from a man you promised to get back to. You look over to find Yoongi serving your bowl, making his way to the table. He leans in puckering slightly and you immediately lean into the sweet sudden kiss while he places your meal in front of you. This Yoongi is new because it wasn’t often you could act domestically towards one another, however this was perfect and just what you needed.

“Everything okay baby?” Yoongi asks while caressing your soft cheek and you immediately nod in his palm.

“Yes, everything’s perfect.” You reply in awe. “Thank you Yoongi, for everything.”

For letting me love you and for loving me back.

The older man just smiles and joins you for the meal.

It turns out you didn’t need Tinder after all.

You quickly delete the app off your phone and start to eat with the love of your life, conversation flows while you enjoy each other’s presence and fall deeper in love.

Alike Yoongi, you couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. You were bound to fall in love, one way or another, but that man was meant to be yours as you were meant to be his.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts x y/n #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts smut

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

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I feel like you've done this before but can we get lazy human reader who is insanely powerful.

Reader is known to be napping even in the oddest places once she was found napping on too of Cerberus stomach while the hell hound napped away as well. She has a habit of pulling people who have a bed like vine into a hug and not letting go for ages.

Though she volunteer to fight much to bruhilda worry She grumbles as she walks into the arena saying she would rather be sleeping. The god that mocks her for her attitude is quickly slammed into the wall shocking everyone even odin by readers strength Reader just turns back to human entrance and coolly says " you gods havent been worth the energy to wake up for in years what made you think I would be bright eyed for cowards like you.

Reader is later revealed to be once a warrior for zeus that was highly skilled and respected even by the prideful god but reader has gone through many recantations so he was unable to recognize her.

-You gait was a little wobbly as you walked into the arena, as you had just woken up from your nap, third of the day and it was only noon.

-Many were confused as you walked to the middle of the arena where your opponent was waiting for you, you didn’t look like a warrior, not in the slightest.

-You covered your mouth as you yawned deeply as Heimdall announced the start of the match, stretching your other arm up, “I’m sleepy~”

-Cue a collective, arena wide face palm as everyone yelled at you that you had just woken up from a nap. You looked confused as Heimdall scolded you, “You were found sleeping on top of Cerberus- again, not ten minutes ago! How can you still be sleepy?!”

-You just shrugged as your opponent’s eyelids were twitching, “You brat! This tournament is for the fate of you damned humans- show us some respect or else-”

-You easily charged and swung out with a roundhouse kick, sending him flying back and into the arena wall, creating a crater before he fell to his knees then to his face, unconscious.

-Jaws dropped all around before eyes went to you as you flicked your hair back over your shoulder, “Why would I be bright eyed for you gods? You all haven’t been worthy my energy for years!”

-Eyes went wide before Zeus shouted down, “Y/N- your name is Y/N right?” you nodded, twirling a piece of your hair around your finger, “That’s me~~” his eyes went wide, “Holy- I didn’t even realize it was you!!”

-Everyone was quickly yelling out in shock as you were revealed to be the reincarnation of one of Zeus’ most powerful warriors, also named Y/N, who died years ago and was reincarnated multiple times over.

-There was nothing left of that powerful aura of the long forgotten god, as you were now a human, but your strength was proof that it was indeed you.

-You wandered backstage, so you could take a victory nap before your mid-afternoon nap, finding a large couch, one you could spread out comfortably on.

-(Love) came to find you, wanting to ask you questions about your power, only to find you already fast asleep. He couldn’t help but chuckle, coming closer and Brunnhilde, who was passing, “You don’t want to get to close to her while she’s sleeping.” He turned, confused by her words, “What? Why?”

-Your arms shot up like striking snakes, wrapping around his neck and you instantly pulled him on top of you before flipping the both of you over, so you were laying on top of him, hugging him close, still fast asleep.

-Brunnhilde sighed softly, “I tried to warn you- good luck~” He panicked, whispering after her, “Wait! Don’t leave me here!” you sighed softly, snuggling down into him and he paused before he went limp and quiet, not willing to disturb you.

-You were very warm and soothing, despite just sleeping, you felt relaxing, so he let himself relax, dozing off as he was being held hostage in something he would later dub your ‘nap attack’.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader

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gamblersdoll · 3 months

Text

PUT MY NAME ON IT, NOW IT DESIGNER. 1

New message!

“girl you gon call me or what?”

it made you roll your eyes. hakari always didnt like if you didnt respond right away, assuming something was wrong and you were in trouble or mad at him, that was a pro and con of him.

you started typing, making sure to turn off the notifications or sounds coming from your phone. you would occasionally look up to see your current boyfriend, sinji, still focused on the damn game… like always.

you readjusted your bonnet, finally pressing send.

Message sent!

“what do you want? cant call rn.”

you felt your heart drop to your ass when he immediately started typing, fucking creep. you couldnt call him– not with sinji right infront of you and not to hakari. the hell could he possibly want at … eleven thirty-two at night?

New message!

“ite, but call me l8tr.”

yeah, absolutely not.

. . . . .

maybe you shouldve called him, because for the past two days he had called you and only to have seventeen voicemails from him. if you had given him a chance you wouldve found it as a turn on. but knowing history, history.

“so, did cha call him?” maki asked, leaning in close to you. you never know why she asks even if she doesnt like hakari. but she could be very nosey.

“uh oh, boy drama!” gojo chimed, “well— whats his naaameee?” that damn idiot satoru.

you tuned everything out, only having to be pestered by he himself. you shut down your phone, needing a break from it anyway. you owned your own apartment, which was good, until it wasnt. you walked in to only see your boyfriend had left, which was fortunate and unfortunate, knowing sinji had only came over cause you had the good wifi and food. so you debated, call or not? you finally said fuck it. powering your phone back on and then taking a shower to relax first.

the hot water running down your hair and skin was always what relaxed you the most, nerves going away and settling until you prepared yourself for the worse and hoped for the best. throwing on a old oversized shirt and hopping into the bed, you pressed the call button.

ring!

you heard shuffling and bassbooted music in the back, and somewhat of yelling.

“look who’s pretty ass decided to call me.” hakari always called you pretty. no matter if you were throwing up or throwing a tantrum, as he would call it, no matter what.

“you said you wanted to talk, so talk.” you held a straight face, only trying to fight away the memories of what used to be your relationship.

“ill assume you heard about me dropping out and being some gambler or whatever, havent you mama?” he chuckled, waiting for you.

“sure, and dont call me mama, i have a whole—“ he interrupted you.

“yeah yeah yeah, your lil’ boyfriend or something.” he finished for you, immediately growing annoyed at the thought of you being with someone that wasnt him. “anyways, you’ll be getting your money back, and its been tripled.” what?

“you do realize its been a little over a year since that happened.” you deadpanned.

“its better than ten. i promised you didnt i?” hakari deadpanned back, matching you always. “i always keep my promises. you know that.” he stated.

“okay, good to know. anything else?” you tried to hurry the call, hoping to hop off of it. you heard him laughing in the back, calming himself.

“always, im inviting you to my club, you got till the end of the week or imma just have someone escort you here. got business to talk about.” hakari said, adding that onto your plate.

“so you deadlining me now?”

“you damn right.”

“ill think on it. now get off my phone.” you said, rolling your eyes.

he chuckled, exhaling. “hope to see you soon, babydoll.”

call ended!

you rubbed your face in your hands, that went better than expected? putting your phone on the charger and laying there, you should have not been on edge, but it was hakari, and you felt your phone vibrate. what time had it been? twelve o five.

for hakari, he knows how to wire transfer, infact pretty well.

“make sure it gets to her, or imma fuck yall up. dont make me repeat myself.” hakari warned, leaning back against his soft couch watching some fight he placed a bet on. he puffed out smoke from the joint he held, only waiting.

“its been transferred, kinji.” the words exactly he wanted to hear. “she’s gonna get it by twelve o five.”

by twelve o five, a hundred and fifty thousand had been transferred to your account.

repost, reblogs, shares, and tags are so welcomed.

#jjk x reader #jjk spoilers #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu gojo #jjk leaks #jjk fluff #hakari x reader #jjk hakari #kinji hakari #hakari kinji #jjk maki #maki zenin #zenin maki #hakari smut

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serpenndragon · 4 months

Text

cw for horror-esque design art!

Just some concept art of Bad but it's intentionally spooky this time so :P

+ some fountain pen doodles so It isnt just a text thumbnail O-o

ignore that he doesnt have his scars or uhm. hair

We need more BadBoyHalo being a scary monster so I am here to deliver 🫡 If you havent seen my other art this is his "true" form and what he's worried about the other members seeing, even though a few already know (like quackity, wilbur, niki, tubbo, ect) and the other's probbaly wouldnt judge him or see him differently other than being a bit surprised.

This is turning into a bit of a species info dump but that's what tumblr is for I guess so !

Some things to know- This strange looking ten foot tall monsterish form is what regular Wither demons normally look like! Ofc they're not always pissed like how I drew here but the unsettlingness can still stick around when theyre not trying to be threatening just because of their large teeth, claws, and well being large LOL Bad, coming from the nether originally got the gist firsthand how the overworld viewed WIther Demons and most people were scared of him, so as a safety measure and for his own anxiety he learned transfiguration magic over the coarse of a few years to create himself a smaller, less thretening form. At first it was hard and painful to maintain his smaller form (which is about 5'6, gets rid of most of his teeth, smaller horns/tail/wings that can't fly and less defined leg joints) but after a while of using it frequently along with getting better with his magic he's able to maintain it prettymuch constantly! Though he does have to revert back for at least 30 minutes a day to avoid health issues and longterm transfiguration detriments. (I had a breif idea that during purgatory he would be forced into his true form to defend himself and/or because he kept his smaller one up in front of everyone for too long) Anyyyways Dapper and most of the other babies know about his real form! He lets them ide on his back sometimes and teaches them how to fly/roar and other silly things. hmm another fun fact, Bad has the demon equivelent of a dad bod, if you notice he shed the spikes on his upper back and neck (which parent demons do so their babies can ride on their backs safely), and gained the barbs on his lower neck (which he can rattle to better communicate and imitate the call of a baby demon, it doenst serve much of a purpose with the baby dragons seeing as they aren't wither demons but they've grown fond of the sound when Bad would make it on accident, and can mimic it <3) AKA with the addition of the dragon babies his body went into dad mode like it had when JR was born, he can't really control it but doesnt really mind and it does kinda help him with them anyways. In addition to the physical changes, he's also beome incredibly protective over them Despite them not being his bloodborn children (this is common for wither demons, since their species is scarce they evolved to get these paternal instincts and hormones when they take a paternal role which was meant for ophaned baby demons but works with other species too, Bad's just like oh okay I have a handful of baby dragons my body thinks is its own now woah okay

Went off on a tangent there LMAO i could talk about him all day anyways hope you like my ideas :D

#qsmp badboyhalo #badboyhalo fanart #badboyhalo #skephalo #bbh #qsmp art #qsmp fanart #qsmp #skeppy #skeppy fanart #bbh fanart #horror

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kosmicdream · 6 months

Text

The FATE of FEAST FOR A KING

.. and Nasty Red Dogs…

And some other miscellaneous thoughts about comics, writing, and time.... AND ENDINGS...

=============

As I’m approaching 10 years on FFAK and NRD is currently 5, I’ve been reflecting a lot on How far this journey with comics has taken me and how far I still have yet to go. For those unaware, my first webcomic was actually Eggshells, which started in 2011, but i only started posting pages publicly in 2013. It too is unfinished, but its planned for 7 chapters. (I’m currently working on chapter 5, which probably will come out early next year.) I have 9 ongoing comics I’m working on. NINE!! 3 of those are FFAK related. (FFAK, After Dinner Treat, and the prequel series “Help.”) It is so many comics though. And beyond that! I have two other stories I’ve been working on for the past few years in secret, one being Nice Blue Cats, which I might still draw as a comic someday.. As well as a series of “one shots” that is meant to be its own collection. Slugmom and “The Teacher & The Fairy” are part of these one shot collections. Which, uh, it was designed to help me practice writing short stories. Which TT&TF is now going to be three parts long, and roughly 300 pages. So I guess that’s short enough…? Ha.. laughs… Anyway, as I was saying.. Sometimes I’m sure, readers might wonder. “Do you ever feel overwhelmed, with so many projects Kosmic?” Yeah dude. I sure fucking do. I got 9 of them! That’s more than a full pokemon team of projects that are potentially a decade + of work. A couple of them already are a decade old/older at this point. (Praeymoon is actually one of my oldest-lasting projects, even tho its first chapter only finally released in 2023.. I first attempted to draw ch1 back in 2016, but was unable to finish it and scrapped the “full color” angle i was trying then. ) All my current ongoing comic projects are as follows: Feast for a King, Nasty Red Dogs, Eggshells, The Teacher & the Fairy, Replacer, The Eyes of Miasma, FFAK: After Dinner Treat, FFAK: Help, are all written. The only one which isnt fully written is Praeymoon, which I don’t mind because the way that story is organized is almost more of a sandbox-fantasy world of mini stories. I’ll be honest, if you havent heard of Replacer or The Eyes of Miasma, I don’t blame you- its not that i don’t like those stories. They just kind of are the “most neglected” comics yet I’m also kind of amazed they exist at all, like I DONT know how I found the time to draw over 100 pages for both of them. They also have fully written outlines and all things considered, are probably only going to be under 400-500 pages in length. But that’s still a decent amount of work there. Its been ten years since I more or less started making webcomics… and as I plan, and try to calculate all my projects for the next 10 years, my main priority at the moment is well.. Finishing all of these fucking stories one way or another. Its hard! I don’t know if I can as I put way too much on my plate. But at the same time like.. Whatever. I could easily drop most of them, if I felt inclined to - but I don’t. They are my library of work, and I’ve sort of made an artist oath to myself that I will see as many of them to the end as I can. I’m excited that three are very close to its end. (Nasty Red Dogs, The Teacher & the Fairy, and Eggshells.) After that well.. I’ll see what I can cross off my list next once I get there.. That’s still going to take years to get those done. But hopefully not too many.

[Spoilers for potential LENGTHS of FFAK/NRD.. And other things.. I speak very transparently about writing and working on comics here AND including my thoughts on ENDINGS.. You’ve been warned]

I’m comfortable enough sharing that the fairy comic is 3 parts, Eggshells is 7 chapters, but when it comes to FFAK/NRD.. Its much harder to give an estimate, or if sharing those things will only be disappointing or annoying to hear about.. If you have ever been around me for more than 10 minutes, i am constantly talk about the “length left” on these projects a lot anyway. At night, i count them in my head. In the day, I write little lists as if I’ve forgotten the names of them.. They are MY LIST.

But for those who do not know and wish to, NRD is likely going to end with 10 chapters. I have extended this in the past, so it could still change.. but it only really has gotten “longer” due to pacing of scenes rather than the actual content. And Honestly, it was paced out specifically to avoid this next chapter. Not that I didn’t want to draw it, its because i was Scared to do it.. Why? Because there’s cars I have to draw in it. And dogs. I have drawn those things before, at least once or twice. But I do not enjoy drawing cars or dogs. Dogs are okay now, but i hate that they have legs. Dont give me references, i have those. Its just how my brain is, with those fuckign legs and how there’s four of them. I know practice makes perfect. Or do-able. I have drawn amost 1000 pages of NRD, i dont remember how they bend and i’ve forgiven myself for knowing there’s just some things god cannot do, which is to give kosmic the ability to look at a dog leg and understand. Anyway. Because of this reason, somehow, finishing NRD with it only possibly being 4 more chapters, still feels harder than finishing ALL of FFAK - which (drumroll) might be .. only around 10 or 12 chapters left. Yes, you heard me- for the second AND third arc. 10 or 12 more. Will that also change? Probably!!!!!! Like, yes… its been 9 years and I’ve completed a lot more than just 10 chapters of comics in that time.. But wrapping up a story is way harder and I dont know what that’s like..yet! But i feel still confident that i will. I mean, i don’t really have any other choice than to experience it. I used to recoil and fall apart just emotionally contemplating finishing FFAK. my FUCKING baby. My joy. You mean that has to end?? NEVER. My attachment to it and the characters was incomparable to anything else I had done, and in my mind ever WILL make… (and that is still true.) But.. I’m okay with that now and I actually look forward to seeing how it could end up. Even if its bad!

Its kind of weird to say, I just don’t really think it will be.. super good? Like.. it could be? I don’t know how readers will react. I dont even know how I feel about the whole thing.. I have felt so many feelings about this comic already, now I’m kind of.. Past it in a new stage. Zen like peace almost. There’s just.. so much that I wanted to PUT in FFAK and so much i could STILL put in. But I kind of just am okay with what i wrote, does that even make sense? The whole comic has felt like such a fluke to me, from the very start. And I managed to accidentally make so many great things in it I don’t actually understand sometimes. And my dreams for the comic has been nearly limitless. I couldn’t possibly contain all the feelings I’ve had over this story over the many years I have been making it, and all the incredible narrative outcomes I could see the characters going in.. the possibilities, the parallels.. The anime music videos.. I would NOT compare my writing style to GRRM, I haven’t read his books. but I can’t help but feel a bit like a weird baby version of him with the amount of cast members I have to push around and draw.. And I want to be clear. If FFAK was written as a book, it wouldn’t happen. I cannot write books. I do not think writing books is easier/faster than making comics, but sometimes it is hard to have to draw everyone. Point is, I understand the reality of a long-term comic project now, I have numbers and logs to prove it and my range. And I’m fairly consistent, even in my low days. So.. in recent years my writing style has.. has changed to accommodate.. Those.. General Realities i’ve observed in myself.

That’s why the second arc excites me. It has a lot of uhh, urgency that underlies it. You might have already noticed a change in the tone in chapter 16, which I’ve been working on for almost a year now. (I mean, I’ve been working on the written version for.. LOL.. much longer.) Maybe you haven’t! It could all just be from my own POV with how differently i feel that I delegate time to characters now. I did not start “writing” FFAK until chapter 10, and then i did not really start WRITING writing ffak until about.. Honestly, i want to say as late as 2019. It TOOK SO LONG you guys. I dont even know how many fucking thousands of pages of madness word documents I’ve got, with revision after revision and trying to list, contain, every possibly plotline… character backstory.. Blah blah blah.. Ive cut it down so much its impressive only to me. I don’t remember my lore anymore , and i love it. My readers probably know my lore better, and I don’t love it. Except when it benefits me. Then Its good. I would not describe myself as a RUTHLESS cut THROAT author, im actually too way sentimental to really let go of anyone. That’s why it took me so long to kill off Rock, but also because I wanted spoon to look really sexy and evil and that’s hard to do sometimes when I cant remember what half side he is. And when he was flipping around, I had to actually make a paper doll for him so i could TRY .. TRY to draw his arm on the correct side. Sometimes I didn’t. I just let it go if the drawing is good enough and i let it be a fun game for the readers to catch. But anyway, That’s why characters like Aeschylus are still around. Now that time has passed, I kind of regret it. Rome was right.. I dont need Aeschylus here and I’m mad he brought his friend Randall too. That being said, they’re some of my favorite characters in this arc even if they’re totally useless. In general, i have tried my best to not repeat all my writing sins and all my regrets of arc 1. I would not have been able to do this without the help of NRD to help get me to see that I can get attached and motivated to write new stories. When I hit my writing block in 2016/2017, it almost broke FFAK. FFAK still continued, but it also didn’t. But i was patient, and i worked through it.. And now I look forward to the ends of my comics, not because I want them to end but I’m very deeply excited for all the new opportunities my imagination to go to. I don’t know what that will be like. I don’t know how long it will still take me to get there, but I have it on [digital] paper and it does feel good to see that. Its affirming. I feel like i have a clear mission and I feel strong enough to really do it and commit to it. The second arc has barely started but in my heart I’ve made peace with the ending, whatever it might actually result as.

Plus if I finish it and its so bad, I’m sure that will be inspiring in itself! People might actually write fanfics!! I think a lot of readers are NOT going to enjoy the ships, for one. The MEAN greedy part of me hopes they don’t. That’s the most ruthless part of my writing to me is the ship choices. Oh! My evil mind. I mean theres no possible way to please everyone, or even myself, but there is a possible way to displease a lot of people. Including myself. So that’s kind of the route I find myself drawn to. Why? Because it gets me out of the hole of like.. I dunno, being stuck.

I used to write out a lot of big posts but over the years, I’ve kinda stopped. Mostly bc they were honestly really repetitive..or about lore that didn’t truly matter too much… That hasn’t really changed. This post is more or less “im still working on it, everyone! Just hang tight! Wow it’ll be a crazy wild ride” but it also is something I wanted to write to myself as words of encouragement. This has been a tough year. Like so tough that its hard to think about. But its very nice to feel like, i guess, my drive for my stories hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, i really feel like i’ve gone through the mourning and ego death of “not being able to write a thing how you want” and now I’ve made total peace with it. Its just gonna be what it is, and I like that actually. When my life is tough, my comics at the moment serve as a place of hope for me - and assurance that I can survive through tough years. That’s the message they have ultimately given me, finished or not. And… I honestly don’t think of FFAK or NRD as my masterpieces or anything, but i know they might very well be the only stories people will know of when they think of me. If they think of me! So I wanna do a complete job with those. Rest assured, it’ll get there. I cant make big promises about all the comics I work on… even the bonus comics for FFAK, but at least those main two are my main priorities. That has not changed. THE FIRE is still in me. Even if FFAK took a like.. Mental.. 5 year hiatus its back baby.

I’m about 30 pages in to my 50 page script for chapter 16, so I guess it’ll be around 300-400 pages more before its done. Things are picking up speed! So it could be less. I am also preparing for the monster that is the 7th nasty red dogs chapter. I cannot stress ENOUGH that this next chapter, I have put off since chapter 4. Yes, I’ve actually buffed the story out to be longer than it intended, just to avoid drawing it. I even put a horse guy in there, I never draw horses because those ALSO have legs but they’re worse than dog legs. And, its not that i didn’t want to draw this part of the comic! But I didn’t think i could do it. It intimidated me. It still does, but, I’m gonna do it already. I know chapters 8-10 will be hard too but like…eh… I know in my heart its gonna really be about 7 for me. It always has been about 7 to me.. 2024 will be a big year for my comics for sure, just because of that alone I think. Not only will I have chapter 16 done, as the first step of the 2nd arc and a new adventure of my apocalyptic wormy drama, I’ll be facing my fears of the dog variety. Its TIME.

I’m so happy people have stuck around for my work, or shared it with others, even if they’re a strange mess. Its interesting to see, who comes and goes. I still enjoy refreshing my comments every morning when I wake up, and right before I go to bed. Its comforting.

My closing thoughts on this. I don’t HATE the ending of FFAK. I… like it! Its an ending. But I LOVE the ending to NRD. i think that ones legit good, i hope. With FFAK, part of me kinda hopes that turning up the pressure on myself of proceeding anyway will help the story. I don’t really know, or expect the ending to change though LOL…. Maybe i’ll come up with something better, but it will be too late so I cant do it or something, and then we can ALL write fanfics together of something else. Then sometimes I think about GUNNM and how the first ending was retconned but then last order was like? Basically the first ending again? I dont know actually, its hard to remember. THATS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN BTW. Also the ending is not everyone dies, even though that ending is fun and tempting. I didn’t do it, because end of evangelion already exists and its got a great song to go along with it too. YES it is also tempting to have someone go “WELL That was A FEAST.. For a KING” as the like final line, but I.. it wont wont. I prommy i take the ending seriously.

The reason I wanted to write all this, with webcomics, I think in general too people are so scared about writing their big comics that take 328523895235 years and the ending being bad. I see so many webcomics just, kinda die before the finale.. Which I totally understand, But I just.. Wanna show everyone that its much better and much more satisfying to just write the ending even if its a fucking disaster LOL. Because ultimately, its a webcomic. I don’t even know how to spell but people read mine! And so.. If theres anything I feel like i can promise and deliver to the world of the internet/my readers, is this big fucking disaster mess.. But it will end someday! And I’ll miss it. I hope readers will too, when that day comes (?) in probably another… 10 years…. idk.... BUT UNTIL THEN.. I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of chapter 16!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Kosmic Dream

#ffak #feast for a king #nasty red dogs #long post #webcomics

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mxlktxa · 10 months

Text

“ellie, baby,” your voice was overflowing with that sweet, sultry tone she loved, even if you were just barely whispering, “come here.”

she paused her action of slipping her prized spiderman comics into the plastic sleeves she had just bought, those forest green eyes landed on your figure, trying to steer away from how your legs crossed over one another. ellies urge to just lay her head on your lap and melt away was irresistible— as well as inevitable later on—, but she kept her cool, leaving to join you on the couch you sat on.

“whats the matter, babe?” she responded, an attempt at palming at your thighs was made, but of course it was unsuccessful, you swatted her hand away before placing a kiss on ellie’s lips, “d’you need anything?”

“mmm, take a break from your comics. youve been setting them up for so long.”

“m’almost done, babe. five minutes, these are the last few spiderman ones i need to put up.”

your eyes had shown a bit of sorrow but you nodded, understanding that these artifacts were precious to her just as your collectibles were to you, “be quick,” you stood from the couch, leaving ellie to watch you leave to your shared rooms, “you havent shown me enough love today and i miss being smothered by you.”

there ellie sat on the couch, fighting the urge to fly into the room behind you, ripping your clothes off so she could dip her fingers deep into your cunt and muffle your cries with a long, suffocating kiss. the auburn-haired woman loved to see your expressions as she fucked you so nastily, adored your pleas and huffs, and admired, yet dreaded when you would flip the situation, your fingers now in her pussy, your mouth muffling her complaints and you edging her for what felt like ten years. but she didnt care too much. as long as it was all with you. her perfect, mesmerizing angel.

“ill be right there… give me two minutes.”

shameless plug, tlou masterlist - quick reads/rambles

#𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ⋆˚✿˖°#the last of us ellie #quick read #rambles #the last of us #x reader #reader insert #imagines #ellie imagine

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tachimichishrine · 5 months

Text

"sweet and sour"

◝≞▣≞◜ crime executive!jouno saigiku x gn!reader

warnings: except for a bit of guns + cursing and ooc jouno,, none! this is all fluff :) i didn't write this in lowercase??? crazy amirite

"Jouno Sai... Saigay? I was certain there was gay in there somewhere... Anyways! Hi!! It's a pleasure to meet you!!"

The mispronounced man in question glared at the individual who was giggling happily, strolling around in the office like they owned the place, shooting a, "Hey, Fernando, did you get a new haircut?", "Lookin' good in that suit, Ichika!", and, "Oh my god! Where did you get those shoes, I swear I saw the exact same ones at that store down the street, the uh... what's it called? Y'know what I'm talking about, don't'cha?" to his fellow executives like they've been friends for years on end.

The room had always been tense, from what he recalled. When people entered, they expected to get shot by the boss, or be given a task so difficult to complete that they would ultimately get shot. In short, a meeting with the renowned organization that Jouno Saigiku worked for was a death sentence for his subordinates, even more so for rival organizations.

Yet, this person had been bouncing around the walls like a child in a candy store, waving around the knife at their fingertips like a ten thousand yen bill and showing off the gun strapped to their thigh and waist with the same bubbly confidence of a new outfit they'd just bought the previous day.

'They're going to get themselves killed in no time,' he laughed to himself, waiting for the one in charge to enter the room.

For now, he was responsible for managing the building and their potential customer (from another criminal organization. It made him wonder how on earth someone like them could possibly be working in the same sadistic field as he did) until their meeting began. He'd never met this person in particular before, and wished he would've never had to. However, business was business, and he would need to accommodate them well enough to prevent a war between the two groups to break out.

"[l/n], was it?" he smirked, a strained playful smile that was barely hanging above the devilish one he had underneath. "It's Jouno Saigiku, and I'd recommend that you refrain from making yourself too comfortable in here. You are, as you know, on our turf, which means that-"

"Bla, bla, bla! you're so formal!" they scoffed with a wave of their hands, bouncing off of the velvet couch and strolling up to the executive, glaring at him with a particular expression that he couldn't see. "I'm actually rather touched that you knew my name! [l/n] [y/n], I'm your connect with [criminal organization name ~ [c /o/n]] so don't be a meanie!"

..."Don't be a meanie? "

As if by miracle, the boss entered right when they were about to get close enough to his straightened-out figure, almost army-like in posture, to tap his nose with their fingertip as one does with children. In his field of work, only people of utmost trust managed to meet directly with the person on the top, so he considered that perhaps they were prevalent in some other field that didn't have to do with relationships and appearance. Now, all he had to do was wait for his boss to get infuriated at their attitude and demand that he dispose of them and he'd be able to drag them out back and peel off their skin...

"[l/n], dear! It's been a while, has it not?"

This keeps getting better and better.

"Kantoku!" they beamed out, running over to the old man and avidly shaking his hand. "Oh, I've missed you so! Things have changed around here, didn't they? You never told me you promoted a new executive!"

With a playful eyeroll, Kantoku - the man in charge of his crime syndicate - gestured to the couch and began to converse, almost casually. What baffled him, perhaps the most of all, was that every regular beat of their heart was steady, this wasn't a feigned façade nor overcompensation for fear. This person was truly, genuinely an idiot.

"Pst, Jouno," the woman executive standing beside him nudged his shoulder, "the boss is here so we're free to go. Plus, that asshole who stole from us isn't talking, so we might need your help."

With that, he left behind both the room and the lingering feeling of confusion regarding [l/n] [y/n].

Jouno Saigiku did not have a very complex job.

In fact, his daily tasks mostly consisted of torture and punishment, with the occasionally laying off (which undoubtedly meant death. There was quite a bit of death around him, a certain fading scent that permeated throughout any room he'd visit. This was not a literal physical scent, for that would obstruct his sight and handicap his senses, but nonetheless he found himself rather pleased when he felt warm blood splatter across his soft cheeks.)

Today was nothing different; supposedly, someone from [c /o/n] had blundered and fled right into their territory. Given the amical relationships between the two groups, it was their job to retrieve and return the fugitive, annihilate them if they do not cooperate and it becomes necessary.

At the moment, he found himself seated in a vehicle, driving to the last location that this person was last seen, being described as "[s/c] skinned and [e/c] eyed", all attributes which couldn't possibly make any difference to him, due to his lack of vision. When he asked for a name of this person, he was shocked to learn that it was the same energetical and bubbly individual who vaguely crossed his radar a few weeks back.

"Oi, oi, Jouno slow down, we don't wanna pass 'em 'cause you're drivin' too fast, 'ight?" his coworker for this mission reprimanded. "Just 'cause you can do that fancy hearin' thing ain't mean my eyes ain't good, 'ight?"

Jouno thus pressed his foot with more force against the gas pedal, speeding up the car only because he didn't quite like the tone of this person.

"Hm?" he asked innocently. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you very well, what did you say?"

"I said slow down you-"

They cut themselves off, not allowing for a response since their silence indicated that they had learnt something new.

"Woah, yeah, they're right over there!" they exclaimed, tapping a point on the window so that Jouno could hear the faint sound and distinguish which direction their target was. "Pull over, I'll tie 'em up and toss 'em in the back."

The white-haired man paused momentarily, thin brows imitating each other as they angled upwards in confusion.

"What do you mean? That's not them."

"For a blind bitch, ya really think yer all that, don't'cha? I can literally see them right now, they're standing outside the fuckin' car so pull over and lemme mug 'em."

His lips had pressed into a line, contemplating the situation. The reason he wasn't allowed to go on his own was because they were extremely picky about identifying the right culprit, yet Jouno cared little for his escort of sorts. He'd encountered [l/n] before, and what marked his memory the most, asides from their childlike behavior, was how their heart hadn't betrayed a thing on the outside attitude, despite being blatantly threatened. This person, the one that his temporary partner had suggested was their target, was in fact sweating buckets and had such an erratic heartbeat he might've believed them to be having tachycardia. On top of this, their breathing was not the same, from what he gauged, they couldn't possibly be the right height, build and walking pattern. People on the run obviously become more more jittery when faced with escaping an impossible situation, but this conflicted his knowledge in too many ways to be true.

"I believe," he suggested calmly with a grin appearing, still refusing to unlock the doors or pull over, therefore driving past the individual, "that [l/n] might not be as gullible as we first presumed, and that this person is a decoy set up to distract us."

And so, Jouno found himself pleasantly challenged by the least likely person.

As the sun bled out into the sky during its descent from the zenith to the crepuscule, Jouno had finally managed to shed his gravely irritating partner and complete his task alone.

That idiot - really, that's all he could call them - decided to ignore his words and kidnap the scapegoat. Of course, this person sobbed and repeatedly told them that they're not the right person, that there's been a mistake, but no one believed their words. Inevitably, they were tortured for a few hours and deemed unnecessary. Jouno shot them, then headed back to search for the real culprit.

"Now, where could they be?" he hummed, almost amusedly, to himself. "Most people tend to lay low when running from important and dangerous organizations, but something tells me..."

He was rather lucky, in a sense, that someone had spotted the fugitive near a bar. However, this was over 5 hours ago. People on the run tend to be smart enough to scatter from location to location, but he supposed he shouldn't be overestimating other people's intelligence.

The door creaked with a lowly groan, as did the floor when he applied weight onto it via his heavy tread. Upon first impressions, the bar was nearly empty.

Then, he heard a voice call out.

"SAIGAY!! Ahh, it's been a while, hasn't it?! Come, come! Can I order you anything? You look like a bourbon man, are you into bourbon? Unless... fine wine? Oh dear, don't keep me guessing, come, sit!"

Immediately, as soon as they called out his name and announced themselves with such ardor, he knew he had the right person.

"No thank you," he smiled. "I can't drink, I'm currently at work."

"Are you? Aw, you don't mean you're here to kill me?" they replied, voice dipping down to a pouty grumble as they neared the end of the sentence. "I'm tired of people trying to kill me, it's no fun."

Idling at the entrance, Jouno didn't quite motion to sit next to them, nor did he seek to keep close in case of sudden evacuation. From what he had heard, this person was without ability, so they didn't pose much danger. Nevertheless, he was a cautious man, and had known that false information could potentially be fatal in certain circumstances, especially when the target is acting so laid back.

"You stole half a million yen from one of the most dangerous organizations around, I don't particularly think you'd've expected it to be fun."

Met with muttering, he would've asked them to speak up had he not heard the nearly incomprehensible, "but I didn't steal anything" from their lips.

"You didn't?" he said aloud. "Then where do you suppose the money had gone?"

A pause insinuated, and he pondered repeating his question in a more forceful way when they answered. "Woah, you've got great hearing! I wish I were like that, half the time people talk to me and all I hear is 'bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bl-'"

Jouno pulled out his firearm and pointed it directly at them.

"Enough games. Cooperate and I'll only make it hurt a lot."

"Gee, mister, did someone piss in your cheerios? I'll come, I'll come, just give me a second! I want to finish my drink."

On the table, however, there wasn't a single glass.

Upon having Jouno point this detail out (for while he could not see, he could still visualize objects in space with his other senses), they paused briefly. "So either you're blind but scarily good at it, or you can see through that crazy squinting of yours."

"I don't appreciate you stalling," he hummed, cocking the gun. "Do you think I won't shoot?"

"No, no, it's clear you would!" giggled the individual. "But, oh, do tell me more about yourself. Being threatened is so much more pleasant when-"

He shot them once.

He shot them twice.

Both bullets landed in non-lethal locations, such as their right shoulder and calf, which was enough to get his message across without rushing his punishment for their actions.

"That hurt!" they frowned, clutching at the opening from which blood was rushing out. "Owwie! You really don't like talking with people, do you, Saigay?"

"Saigiku," he corrected with a hiss. "Do you ever stop talking? I could very well kill you right now."

"Well, I sure hope you don't!"

This just made him want to shoot them even more.

He listened eagerly as they let out a few hisses and groans, then a soft squelch and the clattering of a metal against the marble countertop. He guessed that they were taking out the bullet from their calf, since the one in their shoulder had effectively shattered into hundreds of shards, and would require special medical attention immediately if they wished to live for a few more years. Then again, he knew that they probably wouldn't live past tomorrow, so it wasn't his concern.

Letting out a soft gasp while they tore off part of their attire in order to wrap their injured limb, they still seemed to be laughing. "Thanks."

"For the gunshot wound?" the white-haired male tried to clarify. He didn't take them to be such an open masochist.

Yet, his question only spurred a flurry of coughing and chuckles. "Of course not! I meant, thank you for not attacking me further. Really thought you'd kill me here and now, but you're letting me treat my wounds without interference. Is it because you have orders not to kill me?" Adding with a terribly comedic bite of their lip, they said, "Or have you been seduced by my charm?"

Once he made it perfectly clear that he'd shoot again, they backed off on the teasing remarks and requested that he help them up. "To walk," they'd clarified. "I can't walk, y'know. How do you plan on getting me back to your base?"

"I'll drag you by your hair if I need to," he replied.

(He had to hijack a car because there was no way he'd drag a body across the city, especially not a body as talkative as this one.)

"So you're telling me," they pondered while blindfolded and cuffed in the back of the vehicle, "that you're blind, yet you have highlights? They're pretty, I'll give you that, but why did you colour it? Midlife crisis? Doesn't sound right to me, plus you can't even see the colour so why on earth would you do it? Are you responding to me? I can't hear anything with this blindfold over my ears. Aren't blindfolds supposed to obstruct your vision, not your hearing? Man, but maybe I can hear perfectly fine and it's all your fault because you're not answering me. C'mon, Saigay, humor me!"

Of course, he had no intentions of humoring them.

"You're lucky I didn't gag you," he said. "Or cut off your tongue. In fact, knocking you unconscious would've been a splendid idea."

"But you didn't!" the ex-criminal beamed. "Besides, I'm going to get beat up enough once you deliver me back to [c /o/n]. If you ask them to let you watch and/or participate, they won't say no, I think. Pops isn't too strict when it comes to those things."

"Pops?"

"Y'know, the head of [c /o/n]. He's my dad's close friend and the brother in law of your boss."

That explained a lot of things, starting with this seemingly innocent person's involvement with such dark themes. Yet, there was still something Jouno needed to know.

"And you betrayed your own family friend?" asked the blind man, quickly approaching the location of the building in which he was given rendezvous for the drop-off of the traitor.

"Ahh, connections don't mean shit," they scoffed, waving around their tied hands as if to emphasize their point. "But I didn't betray them. I'd have to be an idiot.... No, not an idiot, whatever is worse than an idiot in order to steal money from a man who would've given me the cash if I asked him for it. So, no. I didn't steal anything. That's why I didn't run; I'm not guilty of anything, running would make it look like I am."

Jouno was interiorly perplexed. So they've got a decent brain behind all of that buttery personality, after all. But, there was just something about them that didn't fit with the narrative, something he couldn't wrap his head around.

"Why wait for me to tie you up?" he finally suggested aloud, hearing his own words formed allowing him to make more sense of his confusion. "Why not just waltz into the building? This makes you look both stupid and guilty."

A laugh burst from the backseat, the kind of laugh that makes you want to join in despite not fully understanding the reason behind it. It was however cut short, due to a sharp inhale of pain then a few curses murmured at their injuries.

"Maybe I am an idiot. Maybe I wanted to get caught. Who knows? Maybe this was all part of my master plan to lure you near Negishi Station so that I could use my all-powerful ability."

He spent a few seconds registering that last bit. Lure him out to Negishi so they could...

"BOOM!"

With a jolt, he nearly crashed the car; luckily, in time Jouno had realized that this was just a sound effect from the hostage, and not a real crash caused by an ability. They were, in fact, right next to Negishi, which made the whole thing a huge coincidence, but other than that, nothing occurred. They were still in the car, unharmed and untouched by any ability that he could detect.

Meanwhile, [l/n] was laughing their ass off.

"BWAHAHAH, you actually fell for it!!" they managed between heaving breaths and uncontrollable laughter. "I knew that since you were blind you would be sensitive to loud noises but that worked so much better than I thought it would, you should've seen your face! You were all like," then they proceeded to make a plethora of faces he couldn't see, but that he knew were all mocking him.

[l/n] continued, "By the way, just because I haven't used it doesn't mean I don't have an ability. So watch out for your ass, pretty boy, or else I might just... BAM!"

He did not flinch this time, but he found himself rather frustrated with his previous reaction. People, normal people, never teased him this way. He'd have thought [l/n] would be a bit less friendly around him after sustaining the injuries, but so far, that appeared only to drive them towards a playful alternative to revenge on par with a snowball fight between two children.

"I'll tell you what," concluded the hysterical individual attempting to calm themselves down, "let's do this again, same time tomorrow? Muah, it was lovely meeting you Saigay!!"

Before he could protest or question this, they waved around their somehow uncuffed hands, reached for the handle of the car door, pushed it open and leaped out.

He found himself standing at the entrance of the bar the very next day.

It was beyond frustrating to pick up the pieces of yesterday's aftermath; based on his recollection and the most probable situation, [l/n] likely used the loud noises not only to ruffle and distract him, but to cover up for the sound of the click of their handcuffs being taken off, courtesy of a pin they had picked the lock with. On top of this, their haphazardous mention of Negishi station was just a way of situating themselves in space (since they had been blindfolded) so they could think of the safest escape route.

He quite frankly did not expect to be outsmarted by someone who can't even remember his name right. Yet, the fact remained that he was strolling up to the entrance of the same place as he'd previously apprehended them at, same hour of the day. He rather hated the sunset; nothing felt right for him. Not the consistent buzzing of the cicadas during the day nor the melodic trilling of the crickets; dusk never held a sustainable aura, and for this reason he'd grown to loathe it, despite being told repeatedly that the setting sun was beautiful.

Rushing curtly inside the building, the bells connected to the door jingled, and, almost on cue, a loud cheer roused him from his lucid trance.

"Saigay!! Over here, over here! Can't say I expected you to show up, but I'm pleasantly surprised!" gleamed [l/n] upon his arrival.

"It's Saigiku," he repeated for an umpteenth time, "and I'm here to turn you in."

They shook their head. "I'd have hoped you'd realized that I don't take to being kidnapped. But I do appreciate the perseverance, so I'll make a deal; have a drink with me, then I'll cooperate for an entire 5 minutes without trying to escape."

"...You truly are an odd person," said he, despite taking a seat by their side and waiting. He didn't know what trick they had up their sleeve (rather, their cast. Turns out, they'd gone to a private medical professional in order to have it looked at. He smiled when he noticed this; a sure sign that victory was much more likely tonight.)

"I'll take that as a compliment!" [l/n] laughed heartily, then called for the waiter. "One [favorite drink] for me, and he'll have a cup of whiskey. The good type, y'know what I mean, darling?"

The waiter raised a brow at the nickname and odd hint, but took the order anyways and began preparation. Meanwhile, Jouno sat, trying to protest that he did not want anything to drink, but was quickly cut off by his temporary enemy's much louder affirmations that he did indeed want some.

"You don't look like the type to be trying out sobriety," they hummed, "but I know if I let you chose for yourself, you wouldn't get anything. You'd be all," (and here their voice deepened and became gruff in an attempt to make it clear that they were looking to mock him,) "'I'm here to kill you! I'm a mass murderer so fear me!!' Am I right or am I right?"

Before he could respond, the fingers on their uninjured hand began to flick his dangling earring, on the right side of his face.

"You have an earring," they pointed out, almost stupidly. "Why don't you have one on the other side?"

He wasn't going to respond to any of this. In fact, he was toying with the knife in his pocket, gauging the right moment to strike with such an unpredictable opponent.

"Because I don't," he said dully. The waiter came, their glasses clinking with the ice inside as it toyed around in the liquid, gently being placed onto the counter.

"Fair enough," they smiled. "Okay sooooooo, wha'd'ya wanna talk 'bout? Gimme anything, I hate silence."

That made two of them.

"What is your ability?" he said rather bluntly, with a soft hum. He was in an optimal position to strike, only a few centimeters away, but he thought better than to attack without knowing such an important piece of information. Besides, with the way the conversation was going, they seemed to be eager to tell him the truth, for whatever reason, so he wouldn't lose anything to try.

After taking a long sip from their drink, they paused. "Nothing, I don't have one. You?"

The cautious man pressed further. "I find it hard to believe you haven't an ability in such a dangerous environment."

With a chuckle, they took another gulp from the glass. Then, turning to him with a relaxed heartbeat, they said very calmly and slowly, "I don't believe in needless deceit. Unlike you, Mr. Hide-my-knife-in-my-pocket-that-I'm-going-to-stab-you-with, I don't play dirty. So, when I say that I don't have an ability, don't be so surprised, yeah? The majority of people don't. I supposed when you're gifted, you don't quite try to sympathize with those unlike you."

So, they're aware of the weapon, yet made no move to dodge? Perhaps he's overthinking this, after all there are many people who seem invincible just because one doesn't act based on rational decisions, but based on their feelings. He should know, he spends most of his free time toying with said emotions and tearing them apart.

In one swift movement, he let his knife slide back down his pocket and removed both hands from the shadows.

"You sound genuine," he said, almost to himself.

"Well, I sure hope so," they laughed, despite nothing particularly funny being said. "I am being genuine, after all. You'll be able to bring me in and tie me up properly in a little while, so I'm going to enjoy the now while I still can, that's my philosophy!"

"Your philosophy is to drink something before you get kidnapped instead of trying to escape?" he repeated, incredulous. Perhaps their drink was laced with something, some kind of drug that drags your mood to a high. Even if he smelled no trace of anything other than [favorite drink], he concluded that this was the only reasonable explanation to this indecipherable human being.

Doubling over with a violent wheeze, they were (yet again) laughing at his words. They babbled a few words between gasps for breath, such as, "Didn't know you had a sense of humour!" and "Please, I can't breathe!" like he'd been a world renowned comedian. He almost felt the urge to clarify that he was attempting to degrade them, to criticize them and point out their stupidity, but one does not simply explain themselves when insulting another. Typically, their words transmitted the message well enough, but this was far from a typical recipient.

Finally recovering, they put on a mock angry face and waved around their finger. "You fiend, take it easy, I'm injured! At this rate, you'll make me pop my lungs out, ahah! Is that your master plan? To incapacitate me verbally? Bravo, I didn't expect that!"

"I wasn't..." he said, trailing off as he was thoroughly perplexed. What does one say in his situation? At this rate, his biggest concern was their oddities, not their capture.

On second thought, he nearly forgot that he was here to capture them.

"That's the beauty of it," they exclaimed, waving around their drink and spilling a considerable amount on his shirt accidentally with the grand gesture. "Unintentional torture! Wow, you must be even better than what I've heard about you, Saigay."

Not even bothering to correct them, he said, "And what exactly have you heard of me?"

"One, that you're very attractive. Two, you're ruthless when it comes to sadism. Three, you have exceptional intellect and four, you can hear heartbeats. Is that last one true? Wouldn't that make you a living polygraph?"

He was, but also wasn't, listening. The first thing they'd mentioned was his attractiveness, likely physical, but what an odd thing to point out, that is! Fighting down the odd feeling blooming in his chest with success, he finally mustered a response; an affirmation.

"That must be your ability," they pondered. "Isn't it? You'd be too strong if you had something else on top of this."

With a grin, Jouno explained, "It is not."

A melodramatic gasp could be heard echoing throughout the mostly empty room. "It isn't?? Gah, I must've been astronomically lucky to have escaped you last time!"

He'd've agreed had he not been promptly cut off by a rush of guesses regarding his ability. Most were way off, a select few absurd, and the entirety of them wrong. He felt his face contort into that of a confused expression when they suggested that he might be able to listen to people through walls, drawing an example by explaining that he might, and here the words were engraved into his mind, "listen in on people while they went to the bathroom, thus deducing whether their digestion was going well." Somehow, this had become a conversation in which they recounted the vivid tale of their daunting task of finding a bathroom once when they'd been in a 'foreign environment' - also known as the downtown region of the neighboring city during a negotiation.

All done and said, they'd contented themselves with a fairly one sided discussion, and he sipped down the Japanese whiskey he'd been handed. Upon noticing this, [l/n] stuck out both of their wrists as best as they could, pressed near one another as if pleading.

"Well, a deal's a deal! Take me away, Saigay! Ah! That rhymes! Maybe I should become a poet!" they giggled.

Jouno considered this for a long time, the topic that was on his mind ever since his arrival. The previous day, he'd told his boss that [l/n] couldn't be found, and that he must've made a mistake when saying that the doppelganger was a fake. This, of course, was untrue, but it also gave him leeway in case he found himself up against a formidable opponent. All of this meant that, if he did not turn [l/n] in to [c /o/n], he himself would not lose anything.

It wasn't sympathy, he told himself, that led him to get up and walk away as they left their arms extended. No, it was just an avoidance of unnecessary effort. If he walked away now, he would save himself the hassle of detaining them, all the while giving this person a second chance. Who knows, perhaps they'd be useful to him in the future.

Jouno had not expected to be called by the lower ranking members of his organization early in the morning. What he had expected was to go to his office; not being told that there was a "package" waiting for him at the base.

He hadn't a clue what this package was. His first instinct was that it was a weapon of sorts, a bomb, anything that did damage. Although, it could very well also be a traitor who had been tied up and sent to him as a peace offering. The more he thought about it, the happier he was as he approached the location in which he was expected.

"J-Jouno-sama!" exclaimed one of the nervous underlings - a kid, really - holding a...

...A dog?

It barked at him, growling and struggling in the grasp of the two kids tasked with holding it down.

"What is this, a prank?" Jouno hissed, ready to make them pay before he even got the entire story.

One of them audibly gulped as their blood drained from their face, while the other stuttered an explanation. "N-No! We f-found this dog attached w-with a leash right in front of the building, and there was this attached to its collar," they said as they handed the executive a wrinkled piece of paper which, upon further inspection, turned out to hold an uncanny resemblance to a napkin from a nearby fast food place.

On it, there were an assortment of dots which were ink being pressed hard onto the fabric. Braille, he concluded. This person seemed not only to have specifically destined this to him, but desired to keep the contents for him only, rather than have someone read it for him.

On it, he managed to decipher the following:

'Dear Saigay, Thanks for not trying to kill me!! I'm certain you're just a big softie heheh. The doc told me I shouldn't be moving around too much after those wounds you gifted me, so now I'm kinda on house arrest lolol. Either way, I'd've loved to thank you personally but can't so I got you a present, its name is undecided yet BUTTTTTT they're a bitch just like you so I called them saigay jr. for the time being ♡ plus I figured you never had a guide dog, right?? So here you go! XD

p.s. you never told me what kind of drink you liked. was I right about the whiskey? pls tell me!! i'll recover properly then find you, so you better have an answer by then >:( p.p.s. heheh peepee s p.p.p.s. you still haven't told me why your hair is dyed p.p.p.p.s. SAIGAY JR HAS YOUR MISSING EARRING BTW!!'

What on earth-

He certainly was no longer angry at this weird dog, but at the owner.

What made it worse was that the two kids had finally gotten over their fear of him and started calming down the dog (which he was not going to called Saigay Jr., much less Saigiku Jr.), noticing the earring; it was only a clip on that was obviously made up of cardboard clippings and poorly colored insides, as well as engravings that he could physically feel and recognize, but the resemblance to his own was noticeable. He wondered if this was an insult from [l/n] disguised as a present, but decided that there were too many exclamation marks for this to be anything resembling a threat. Not to mention the "XD".

Now, he had to figure out the dog. It's too much noise and too much effort, besides he doesn't like dogs all that much. He supposed he'll just have to snatch off that wretched earring and dispose of it before anyone makes the link and this haunts him, then kick it out. Surely it'll wander back off to its home or whatever. None of what followed would be his concern.

"Jouno s-sama, what should we do with the dog?" uneasily asked the kid. He shook his head, snatched the makeshift earring in one fell swoop and crumbled it into a ball in his hand.

"Take it outside, it isn't mine and I don't care about it. This was just a prank from someone I know."

With this, Saigay Jr. was released back onto the street, the collar still coated with braille dots that spell out its name.

Once work was done, he decided to go for a walk, for some fresh air. However, Jouno was not expecting to hear panting coming from his side.

Saigay Jr. barked at him, happily wagging their tail and bouncing on their paws.

"What is wrong with you," he swore under his breath, then made his tone much vocal. "Go away! I don't want you here!"

None of this, obviously, got across to the dog, who was still following him closely.

"I said go away!" he yelled, a bit louder but also significantly harsher. "Stupid bitch."

It somehow reacted differently, barking much more avidly and skipping over to him with apparent excitement.

At this rate, he'd never get rid of the dog. He contemplated calling the pound and having someone take them in, but knew that this was likely an unnecessary step to take. Regardless, he'd have to get rid of it soon. All this barking is going to make him dizzy soon.

The sounds subsided as it transitioned from growling to a soft whine, choosing to lay down. It was then that he noticed a certain odor that he hadn't paid attention to before.

...Blood?

He almost could've sworn the dog was injured.

Jouno decided that it was not his concern and left it there, on the street, alone.

The dog was certainly a stubborn little thing, as it was there when he came to work the next day.

He took out his gun, shot it in the air (loud noises hurt him a lot, but he knew the same applied to the animal) and hummed contently as it scurried off out of fear, out of his life.

Saigay Jr. came back the very next day.

"Oh, will you fuck off already?" he groaned, taking out his gun yet again to fire a warning shot. Of course, he wasn't going to actually kill the beast, but he was reaching a point where he was very well considering it.

He stopped himself as he heard it whine, then lower itself to the ground, almost bowing to him in a human fashion.

"I'm not keeping you. [l/n] should've just left you in the dump where they found you," he said, realizing that he was talking to a literal dog.

He reached his hand out with a sigh, and began to pet it. This clearly made the dog calm down significantly, as it was finally getting recognition from the one it believed to be its owner, and so it didn't noticed as he curled his fingers around the leash, detached the ends of the collar then used it to attach the canine to a post.

As soon as it realized its situation, it began to growl, barking aggressively at him, then pouting and almost seeming like it was about to cry. Jouno didn't care, however, as he took out his burner phone and dialed animal patrol.

Somehow, by some un-abiding law of the universe, Saigay Jr. was there, sitting happily, waiting for him outside of the building in which he operated.

Its leg and arm seemed to be getting better, he could tell, which made it likely that it wouldn't stop coming back to annoy him.

"It's like a miniature [l/n]," he laughed to himself.

Over time, he'd almost began to enjoy his daily encounters with the animal. He found it almost enjoyable to pet and ruffle its soft fur, eliciting the pleasant reaction of a calm dog.

Today, he decided, he would stop pushing it away. It's Houdini, this mynx, a Houdini who refused to disappear and could get out of any trap he laid for it.

"First off," he crouched down, stroking its ear, "ground rules. You are not my dog. I'm doing this to see if it'll get rid of you once you get bored with me. Got it?"

Ears drooping, Saigay Jr. seemed to be saying, "aww, but I wanted to be your dog!", to which Jouno replied with a look that said, "Don't make me get up and leave."

"Second rule, keep your piss and shit away from me, I'm not touching or smelling any of that. Third, you do as I tell you to. Understood?"

He wasn't expecting the dog to nod, but would've liked seeing it react other than burrowing its head further into the palm of his hand. Reluctantly, Jouno didn't resist, and sat there entertaining its need for physical touch for a few moments before springing to his feet.

"I'm going home. You are not allowed in my house," he warned, turning around.

Saigay Jr. followed him home anyways.

Somehow, as the day turned into night, he found himself helpless when it comes to resistance against this dog. It was thankfully very unproblematic, not making much of a mess when they arrived to the apartment which he lived in (it wasn't his, evidently. The criminal organization he worked for simply scared off all the tenants and let their members live there, unofficially.) He gestured to a corner for it to stay while he settled down, and stuck there for as long as he told it to.

As he took care of his own affairs, the time to rest finally came, and the dog didn't appear to have any plans to depart from its new best friend.

"Leave," he repeated forcefully, pointing to the door left ajar for it to crawl outside. "I said leave."

The message seemed to be getting across, as Saigay Jr. finally began to trek towards the entrance.

Then, it used its snout to shut the door, returning promptly and sitting down in front of him, waiting for some kind of reward.

"I'd really wish you'd die right now," he threw a hand on his face, tilting it upwards to display his frustration. "Fine. Let's play this the hard way."

He walked outside his apartment, knowing that the dog would follow, and shut the door behind them both. With a smirk, he activated his ability, disintegrating into the smallest specks and re-entering the room while sifting through the openings on the side of the door.

This way, he was back inside while the animal was whining from the outside, scratching occasionally to ask him to let them back in.

"Absolutely not," he laughed proudly, tossing himself into bed, trying to will himself to fall asleep before he'd begin to feel guilt about leaving the diligent and loyal gift from [l/n] outside.

A click, a creak and a shuffle later, and he heard a very clear panting noise.

Saigay Jr. had somehow managed to get inside.

"Fuck, you know what? I don't care anymore," groaned the tired man. "I give up. You win."

As he let himself doze off, the dog had crawled up onto the bed and softly laid its head on his chest, breathing steadily.

Jouno wouldn't admit that the sound and feeling was a nice change to his norm.

At this point, Jouno had practically adopted Saigay Jr.

He didn't hear anything from [l/n], which he found odd since it had been over 6 months since he'd last seen them. He knew that he shouldn't be thinking about them; he'd only known the peculiar individual for a grand total of about 3 encounters, one of which he hadn't even interacted with them and the other two being attempted kidnapping and murder. The white-haired man knew that the only reason their image stuck in his head was due to this dog, this constant reminder of them, on top of their boisterous personality that he could've swore made him look at people like him (who had little to no personality, all business and no fun, as they might've said) differently.

The dog was a weird new addition to his life as well. He'd never seen it eat nor require to be walked. In fact, their relationship had gotten to the point where he was becoming more and more eager to be in its company; he woke up with Saigay Jr. (whose name he couldn't bring himself to change nor get out of his head), the both of them walked to his work, and then when he was done with his daily torturing, the loyal animal was waiting for him at the door of his apartment. He occasionally let it sleep in his bed, but mostly it found a small corner on the couch where both of them seemed content. It was a particularly odd situation; Jouno did not like pets. In fact, he didn't like people, so why would he expose himself to this small, fluffy thing for daily companionship? He didn't know, but found that there was no need to question a mutually beneficial situation.

Today, however, something odd had happened.

Saigay Jr. was not waiting in front of his door when he got back, covered in the heavy smell of blood for today's session was especially... artistic.

"Junior?" he found himself calling out, a name he never had the need to say out loud due to their chemistry. Yet, there seemed to be no movement nearby.

Weird, he thought, but there's no need to make a big deal out of this. The animal probably had to attend to its animal business, or whatever. Maybe the meeting that they always attend while he's at work was running late, he humored himself.

A few hours later, and nothing happened, no one showed up scratching at his front door or barking at it. He'd told himself that he was going to keep going on with his day as if nothing happened, but sleep was difficult to find because of the nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

It was then that he heard a knock at his door.

Not a scratch, but a knock.

He grabbed the firearm from the drawer next to his bed, and greeted the guest with a smile as he unlocked the door cautiously.

"Saigay!!"

He couldn't believe it; [l/n] was standing at his door.

"Sorry, sorry, I know this is sudden but at least be glad you were wearing pants when I knocked on the door," they spoke casually, letting themselves into his apartment and spreading themselves on the couch like they'd been living there for a while, in a particularly odd way that eerily resembled that of his dog, "but I was running late since my dad was telling me that I should come clean about this whole thing and bla bla, y'know that old man wisdom? You seem like you know what old geezers think. Anyways, Dad was givin' me the lecture and whatnot, so I told him that since I was mostly recovered, I might as well come and say hi without barking."

"Without... barking?"

He squinted his eyes even further as he tried to make sense of this.

"So you didn't gift me a dog, you..."

"Were the dog? Yup! The name's actually Soseki [y/n], and I've been a spy at [c /o/n] for about a year or two, can't remember too well since my time was cut short by a certain injury some pretty asshole gave me. Annoying, ain't it? I hate getting shot at. Being a dog is so much easier."

"You lied," he said, trying not to panic from the fact that he had been sharing his life for quite some time with another person in disguise, "when you said you didn't have an ability."

"Of course! Isn't that what everyone does? People lie tons, like when you told 'Saigay Jr.' that you didn't have a ticklish spot, only for me to find out that you have sensitive ears and chest. Very ticklish, especially when you think no one is watching."

He felt the blood rushing to his face while he swallowed dryly. What else had he done accidentally in all that time? He couldn't possibly have kept track of everything.

"Aw, he blushes," they laughed, tapping his nose before he could recover. "Relax, I'm not out to get you. I thought you were interesting and cute when you kidnapped me, so I thought I'd put you to the test for a bit while I recovered from my injuries. Okay, not so much a test, per se, but I wanted to hang out with you. I had a feeling you were lonely, and I was right!"

Heartbroken wasn't the right word to describe how he felt; what was running through his mind was a hellish mixture of embarrassment and fear of vulnerability. It's the sensation one feels when one is deceived and looks back on it, wondering how they could've been so foolish. He should've known, he kept telling himself.

"I get that you probably feel humiliated. Dad says that most people do, so I've just gotta smile and remind them that I've got a terrible memory," they laughed, reading his mind. "Maybe once you get over it you'll come to realize that I wasn't lying about wanting your friendship."

With a timid smile, nothing like what their usual bubbly personality would typically make, they bowed gently to him, seemed to consider leaning in to hug him, then decided that this all would be too much at once.

[y/n] left, hesitantly adding, "Same place... tomorrow?"

Why had Jouno showed up at the bar where they had originally been introduced, all those months ago, when he'd been so foolishly deceived?

Perhaps it was as he kept repeating in his head, that he was there to pick up the pieces of his torn dignity. Or maybe it was to finally kill them and receive the reward on their head.

Or was it to accept their offer?

He reassured himself that he couldn't possibly, that people were terrible and he couldn't let himself get soft with this one or else he'd become mushy and weak. He wasn't sure what terrified him so much about that idea, but he didn't even consider it as an option.

As always, the bells jingled as he entered, but there was no shout of his mispronounced name.

Nevertheless, he took a seat at the counter, ordering the whiskey not because he wanted some, but because he subconsciously attributed it to this location and time, despite not having an overwhelming number of memories here. He supposed that certain memories can be short but impact you more than you could ever fathom.

Even while he waited, he'd began to feel the pit of his stomach drop, like he had a cavity in his chest in place of a soul. Jouno hadn't realized up until now how accustomed he'd grown to a persistent joyful presence in his life, be it [y/n] under human or canine form.

The waiter returned, placing his order against the counter, and murmuring in a melodic voice, "I didn't expect you to come."

He didn't have to glance upwards to know it was [y/n], and so kept his gaze downcast.

"I'd say I'm sorry but I don't quite see anything to apologize for," they said, taking a sip out of his drink, lips lingering at the rim of the glass. "I had a lot of fun in the past few months, haven't you? My approach might've been a bit cruel, but think of it as Karma for shooting me, twice. This way, we're even! Wha'd'ya say? We good?"

Jouno's mouth betrayed him as he snatched the cup from them, chugged it all down at once, then said, "yeah, why not?"

Immediately, their heart rate sped up from excitement, and they leapt across the counter to trap him in a bear hug. Trying to resist but knowing there was no point, he eventually melted into their embrace.

Pulling away, they giddily babbled, "Okay, so now that you've forgiven me, I feel like it's a great time to mention that I've seen you strip multiple times and I would've told you that it was weird to change your clothes in front of a dog but I didn't know how to tell you or look away without acting weird so I just went with it and I feel like maybe I should compliment your stellar abs while I'm rambling like this but complimenting you will probably not do much good so how about I just offer you another drink and we forget this whole thing?"

Jouno cursed under his breath, nearly chuckling but not quite, realizing that they were right. "Fuck, what else did I do?"

"Well, I've got to tell you that your snoring is adorable, but you roll a lot in your sleep and that, mister, is something we need to take care of."

For the first time since he could remember, Jouno laughed a genuine laugh, not laced with malice or sugarcoated, as he listened to [y/n] vividly recounting their numerous embarrassing tales of him, only to be teased back for their dog habits like the panting and tail wagging. He'd've thought that the drinks were making him loose, but [y/n] had actually told the waiter to give them both multiple shots of apple juice.

As the night progressed, Jouno slowly found out that he'd opened himself up a lot more than he was comfortable admitting. Yet, this made him both want to retreat and lock [y/n] out of his life and invite them into his daily rituals, to never let them go. On the other hand, [y/n] had always found him to be a wonderful person, and only became further entranced as they watched him operate on a daily basis.

Somehow, Sweet fell in love with Sour, and Sour fell in love with Sweet.

Another set of months later, Jouno returned from a particular mission given to him in the middle of the night, exhausted, ready to do nothing expect collapse onto the bed and sleep.

He was practically dragging his feet as he approached the door of his apartment, inserted the keys lazily and opened it. As always, his partner called out for him.

"Sai!" they said, skipping up to the door and noticing his beat up expression. "Damn, what did they force you to do this time?"

He shook his head before burying it into the crook of their neck and letting his hands dangle by their side. "The guy I had to interrogate was an opera singer, lungs of fucking steel." Strands of his hair were brushing by their skin, and his lips were murmuring against the warmth. "He wouldn't stop screaming my ears off, even with the gag."

Unable to contain their laughter, they poorly comforted him with a rub on the back while shaking from giggles. "My poor baby, today hasn't been your day, has it?"

Almost like handling an infant, they snuck their arms under his own and half-carried him to the bedroom. Getting in with him and tenderly placing a kiss on his cheek, [y/n] traced out random features on his face with their fingertip, hoping to soothe his body with touch.

"You smell terribly by the way," they said sarcastically in a deep sultry voice. "Do I kick you out to sleep on the couch or are you gonna take a shower? I can smell the blood on you, darling."

Half-asleep already, he slurred a, "Tomorrow...", followed by, "It's not my fault you've got the nose of a dog."

"You aren't any better," [y/n] teased, rolling over on top of him and kissing his sensitive lips with the delicacy of a flower blooming in spring snow.

"Just... let me sleep," he groaned, waving them away like a fly, only to have his hand caught by their own.

"Mnn, fine," murmured the [h/c] haired individual, gazing at him softly with heavy eyelids, as mesmerized with him as always. "Want something fluffy to snuggle into?"

"No, stay the way you are."

With another kiss that lasted a bit longer and in which Jouno participated weakly, [y/n] rolled back and cradled his head, bringing it onto their chest.

"'Night, [y/n]," he managed to say, shifting himself so that he was curled up against their figure. After a brief pause, he shuffled himself again under the covers, resting his head on their body. With their chest steadily rising and falling in sync with their consistent breathing, he found that he slept so much better.

They smiled gently.

"Goodnight, Saigiku."

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #saigiku jouno #jouno saigiku #bsd jouno #jouno bsd #jouno x reader #bsd x reader #jouno bsd x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #jouno x reader bsd

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aquaquadrant · 8 months

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literally just zoomed through yalls htp au and i havent seen anyone talk about it but i find it SO interesting how Bravo, who is supposed to be the GOOD overworlder, is rather prideful and honestly just a dick while Tango, supposedly his EVIL counterpart, is just the sweetest guy. i cant imagine how Tango is derived from the worst parts of Bravo, if im understanding hels correctly. Tango is such a good person, while Bravo is rude to everyone with the worst attitude. it was just something i picked up so quickly. if the universe put him in hels in the first place, there must be a reason why the universe swapped his place with his overworld counterpart.

on another note! with the release of secret life, and what we've seen so far, how do you think htp!tango would fare in this new killing game? i cant help but imagine that with the entire gimmick being keeping secrets that he would be rather stressed, knowing he had hidden stuff from his friends already-- lying doesnt make him feel like a good person (but he isnt supposed to be that, some small part of him is whispering, knowing hes from hels, is all of the "bad" parts of bravo)

anyways! this is all i will be able to think of for the rest of the week /vpos and i hope you (and everyone who may be reading this at any given time) have a great rest of spooky month!

well THANK YOU this was a lovely message to receive, and i’m glad you’re enjoying the au ^^

i’ve talked a little bit about this here and there, but i’ll never pass up the chance to ramble more. there are a few key things about bravo and tango that make them different from the average overworld-hels pair.

ANALYSIS/RAMBLE BELOW

first off, most of what we’ve seen of tango has been set during double life, which is ten years after he escaped hels, so he’s had ten years of growth. we see very little of him before this, and in those scenes he’s got the benefit of being largely alone. the only player he interacts with is xisuma, who tango immediately realizes he needs to ‘trick.’ so his interaction with x in part one isn’t how tango would’ve interacted with virtually any other player in hels at that time.

we see from the flashback in part five that younger pre-hels tek tango was borderline feral- he chose to attack atlas on sight instead of trying to hide, or leave before he was seen, or even see why atlas was there. now, atlas wins him over fairly quickly because tango is young and naive and secretly craving positive interaction, but even in that brief interaction tango is a bit more prideful than his older self. that, of course, got beaten out of him at hels tek.

bravo, on the other hand, we follow closely during his ten years in hels. when he first arrives in part two, he’s a little snide and privately judgemental, sure, but he starts out perfectly decent towards timmy. he tries to maintain that civility and ‘niceness’ as he interacts with more and more hels players, but gradually loses his willpower as he gets beaten down and frustrated, even losing his temper. and after he fully snaps and gets his first kills, he all but abandons the notion of being ‘nice’, though privately he still thinks of himself as inherently better than hels players (atlas’s manipulation certainly doesn’t help matters, either).

but perhaps the biggest point is to look at what traits tango actually got from bravo, and that would be his rage. bravo is most similar to tango when he’s angry; his first little temper tantrum in part two is where it’s best illustrated, because all instances after that have been influenced by his time in hels. but you’ll notice that we have yet to see tango truly angry in the HTP series (he did revert back to an almost feral mindset when the ranch got attacked, but that was an instinctive defense mechanism. there was no conscious thought behind those decisions, and they were purely fueled by fear, not anger). that will be where his ‘hels’ really shines through.

there’s one other bravo trait amplified in tango that i haven’t revealed yet. it’s something that tango has figured out how to sort of ‘mask’ via other more acceptable coping mechanisms- if you can call it that- and actually forms a fairly significant part of his personality. stay tuned :3

as for secret life, it’d be a complicated situation for sure. on one hand, their goals are less outright malicious- just complete the tasks and try to survive (at least for now). in a way, it almost takes away accountability for their actions if they turn out to be harmful- “i had to, it was my secret task!” so that’s nice to fall back on. but still, tango would be very on edge. not only with the discomfort of having to lie to his friends, but never knowing if they’re lying to him, too. boi’s got them trust issues fr.

#hels to pay au #HTP ask #mmmmm I LOVE CHARACTER ANALYSIS #thank u for the opportunity to ramble

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copingchaos · 7 months

Text

kindly requesting the moon knight fandom to channel our inner jake lockley rn

now hear me out please

the moon knight fandom is an active fandom. there are people who post original work, or reblog things, everyday. it's been this way for years. ive been here for over a year and ive seen the way the fandom interacts with each other. it's always warmed my heart.

that's why i'm adressing this to you guys, in the hopes that it inspires some people to change their ways. i do believe the tumblr algorithm is probably making it hard for news about Gaza to reach my, and your, TL. so maybe i simply havent seen a lot of mk accounts share/post about it, because of the algorithm...but that is all the more reason, to keep (or start?) sharing what's going on in Gaza

for anyone who's missed it, it's been a full month since the first bombs were employed. over ten thousand people have died, 40 percent of those were children 💔

i'm not asking anyone to share my posts (although boosting this one so it reaches the fandom would be advantageous) i'm only hoping to keep the conversation of what's happening in Gaza going

every voice counts, every platform can make a difference. especially with the help of our fandom, it may not be the biggest out there, but we're active and that's the most vital part

I contemplated whether I should tag accounts, people that i admire and am fond of, who make my day when i see their posts on my TL, because i know they have active blogs with good engagement. I'm not going to because i dont intend to point fingers or to make anyone in particular feel called out.

but just please, realise that if you're active here, your involvement is valuable, your voice can inspire others, so please consider using your platform for the greater good

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ganondoodle · 1 month

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Not to add more fuel to the fire (I do) but seeing all your TotK rants and agreeing with every single part of them, I just remembered that as soon as the first Sages appeared on screen I immediately noticed that even their voice actors were the same as the Champions from BoTW but a bit "deeper" sounding and when I looked up they ARE.

I don't mind when voice actors make a come back for specific roles tbh but this time with how disappointed I was starting to feel about the game's story it felt super odd?? Like it did feel so much like they were reusing stuff ;;

honestly if anyone wants to rant about totk in my inbox feel free to do so, i might not always respond but its really good to hear others be similarly disappointed and maybe you are even pointing out something i havent thought about

(also its fine to not agree with everythign i say, just dont be a dick about xD)

you see ... now that you say that i remember seeing the leaks before the game came out that some of the voice actors from botw said they returned for totk and that was a topic of discussion .... which went nowhere also bc i guess they were too lazy (sorry, that word is way overused when people talk about games but ... well) to find anyone new for the few lines they say

that said it doesnt exactly help the case of ancient ancestor (that looks exactly the same as the modern people!! i cant stand that!! its my character design taste that is more annoyed than the lore nerd but its stilll ... they didnt do that either to differentiate the past thats OVER TEN THOUSAND years ago aaaaaaargh) that all say the same line only with a few words changed around or rephrased like someone badly copying your homework but trying to hide it- without telling you any new information at all that all have no personality, not even a different clothing style (its aaalllll sonau style now woooheeee) and dont even get to have faces bc they are hidden under a SONAU MASK AT ALL TIMES even when NOT FIGHTING (why are they even in their temples after rauru seals ganondorf ... no seriosuly what are they doing there, just standing around waiting for zelda to come beg them to swear yet another oath to some guy in the far future, theres no one in the bg either like idk, they could have been praying or sth- wait .... why are they still wearing the stupid mask and outfit .... raurus gone and minerus getting eaten by miasma i dont think anyone would care (i know its bc they dont want to make another model ... though removing the helmet at the very least ... no?) and then dont even get their own voice ... lol

(i didnt notice bc i played with japanese voices bc the german voice actor for gan sounded like german daruk and that was too weird for me ... i still expected him to say more than a few lines and some yells at that point .. hah ... )

#ganondoodles answers #ganondoodles rants #zelda #totk critical

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philtstone · 6 months

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Aragorn/Arwen, 63

#63 -- tujhe dekha toh from dilwale dulhania le jeyenge ok so the soulmatism of it all had me going completely nuts (simrans waking dreams.....i need to lie down) & before i knew it i'd re-read their appendix had 3 literary analysis epiphanies and was neck deep in the wiki page on love death and meaning and the paradox of religion and nonreligion in tolkein i say all that like i didnt just write movie verse kidfic lol. ellie is a shortened version of "nethel" which means sister in sindarin. in a different time in my life i would have named every single one of canon girldad aragorns "many daughters" & also included 5 of them but alas, at this time i am Busy. so we'll pretend that the other 3 havent come along yet. arwen has magic powers she will be fine. enjoy!

“My lady Luthien!”

The words come into Arwen's dream in the common tongue, whispered and full of a child’s awe. He is speaking as if to himself — the text has surprised him, or perhaps absorbed him so that he does not realize his mouth is moving, disrupting the Sindarin read privately in his thoughts with an impulsive, delighted exclamation.

To Arwen it is just as mesmerizing. She cannot know why her dream has brought her here, to this garden of her father’s House she has sought refuge in so many a time. She knows him very little, this child, not ten in the years of Men and so very human about it, with lanky limbs folded up against himself to cradle the book and a mop of dark hair that falls down over his eyes and the very beginning of spots on his chin (of endless intrigue to Arwen, who has only ever seen skin unblemished).

She has not met him, but knows of him from her brothers’ letters: her father’s ward, sweet and grave and beloved amongst the Rivendell kindred as any novelty in the shape of a child might be. But Estel earns it, too. He is earning his presence in her dream in the same way, sat in the exact spot she always chooses, under bows of trees she has long considered friends. He earns it, though Arwen doesn’t quite know why he’s here.

Don’t you? ask her thoughts of her self, and she does not answer.

Years pass, and she is home again.

“My lady Luthien,” he says, as she comes toward him, and within his voice is a gentle embarrassment that still manages to tease.

Arwen, firm in her earlier, gentle rejection (he is far too young), cannot help but find this terribly charming anyway. It is just after dinner, and she has found him behind a pillar to the side of where they dine. He holds his cup in both hands. Until her appearance he was studying the carvings on one stone edifice to their side, and seems in every way his mortal age save one: there is a new and convoluted weight in his eyes that was not there in the early afternoon, when he called so clearly and sincerely to her. It seems to have entered like the broken branches of a sapling swept into a fast-moving stream after a storm.

“I should be greatly flattered, Estel, to be compared thus,” Arwen says, offering that weight a smile. Estel drops his eyes back to the pillar. He seems to start and stop a few times before actually opening his mouth, and when he does,

“I should like to still be called Estel, for a while yet,” and there is great vulnerability there, in his young man’s eyes. It sneaks into her breast and cups a hand over the breath she draws, and despite the glade, and his youth, and the Truth her father has now shared with him, she is compelled: Arwen’s own hand slides over his knuckles, and they are holding the cup together.

“I will,” she promises. “I do.”

On the edge of the last word do his eyes flick up to hers, canny in a way that sparks beneath her skin. He lives up to his name, she thinks then (not quite knowing why), and when she writes this to him after they have parted, in the letters they now share, he writes back: so do you.

Before Estel, her experience of Death was altogether different. She knew it first in abstraction and then in keen loss. Now she feels its imminance and urgency, in both grand and mundane ways.

For example, earlier this evening, Arwen thought she might die if she did not kiss him. It was a thought that crept over her swiftly, silent and keen as a fresh ice water brook spilling into open hands, very different from the thundering roar of the river spirits she had summoned to herself – until it was suddenly quite the same, roaring, and it must have shown in her eyes. In the late quiet of the night she came to her rooms and found him, there.

(She has long since known why.)

The employment of her tongue is not new, but pulls a murmur out of him regardless. “My lady Luthien,” he starts, speaking almost directly against her mouth, with a wry amusement that is not so unburdened as to be playful and not yet a warning, either, and then he is properly startled into, “Arwen —!” when her next kiss includes a bite. The rasp of beard against her chin is uncomfortable and delightful. She can feel the rumble of her small victory in his chest. Aragorn has always done so much with just the two syllables of her name.

When she has lost all breath she pulls away, and does not pant — sweet air made salty by urgency comes in and out of her lungs in discordant sighs — but her lips stay hot against his ear and she feels every press of his fingers against the slope of her waist, burning. She thinks of death again; she has fought it off. Twice in one week now, in very different ways.

Aragorn does pant, in his own way. He lets out a quiet gasp and drops his head against the side of hers, not trembling but finding some stronghold deep within himself that begets composure.

Slowly she begins to comb her fingers through the hair at his temple. In the dark alcove of her rooms (safe), they sway together.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs, and she knows: tomorrow the council is held.

“I meant it, earlier,” says Arwen softly, into his hair. It has begun to grey, the strands too hidden yet to shimmer in the moonlight but there nonetheless. Every so often she will catch a glimpse of them and it will leave her wordless, and desperate to touch him. “Your fears are not the truth you think them to be.”

“Arwen.” She can hear the desperation that threatens to choke his own voice. Duty turns the peaceful twilight of her home into a foreboding shadow. There are two large warm hands on her face before she has noticed them move, and then she feels the wetness of her own cheeks: she had not realized she was crying.

“I did not know it would be so momentous to love,” she says, while he wipes at her tears with war-roughened, gentle fingers. So many things about Men are a paradox. So many things about this man.

“Meleth,” he says.

“I meant it.” She repeats herself. “I know who you are in my heart, Estel.”

“You do,” he allows her, and she is not certain he believes it to be enough. No matter, Arwen thinks: her own belief will sustain them. It must, long enough that he has hope for himself as well as for Men, and then they might cross through the door, to the other side of the Dark.

The Queen finds her husband in Faramir’s study, reading.

“My lady Luthien,” she is greeted, words threaded full of the subtle humour that has turned her head for over sixty years.

Arwen clasps her hands over the laden basket she packed without needing any kind of foresight and sighs thinly.

“I did expect, mel nin, that you had gone the whole day without food, but I had thought you would be found holding grave council, or visiting the head healer, or even – forgivably – in the stables. Instead, you are here, nose-deep in an ancient poem.”

“It did not come to you in a vision?” he asks, and raises his eyes just enough to catch hers from beneath his lashes. This does nothing to diminish the focus etched into his dark brow, nor the way he holds himself (always it calls to her – it does not matter the shape), nor the deep blue of his mantle sweeping against the floor; he has not paused to change since returning from the Southern Wall. Whatever peace he thinks his feigned innocence will win him, she cannot know.

“Your Steward told on you, my love.”

“Aaah,” his face falls, so dramatically it is amusing.

She holds up her basket. “I have lunch.”

“My beloved wife has developed the sensibilities of a Hobbit,” Aragorn says, in her people’s language.

“Hobbits are good and noble creatures,” she retorts. She always argues better with him in Sindarin anyhow, “and have traditions from which we might learn.” She arches a brow: “Estel.”

“I am eating,” protests Aragorn, somewhat weakly. “I mean – I will.”

“You might do so now. With me – there is no one else here.”

It is a potent suggestion, she does acknowledge. She watches him think about it, proud to note all the little tells which she has known since he was a barefaced and impulsive young man. The same canny look sparks under Arwen’s skin. Once, decades ago, she had met him in the wild woods beyond her father’s borders in a stolen moment between darkness and duty, and convinced him to bathe with her in the river. She remembers her joy at seeing his wet dark hair plastered all over his forehead. She remembers his own joy, and how it fought off the lonesome blanket of the gathering shadow.

“Your thoughts are of something I know,” Aragorn says now, suspicion arching his tone and narrowing his bright eyes, no longer that of a young man but still full of a life that thrills her. “Some joyful mischief that you’re going to coax me into again, no doubt.”

“There is sadly no river in the palace.”

“Aaah,” uttered in a very different tone from before. His eyebrows twitch out of their focused furrow and his face warms with the memory. He lowers his book a little. “Arwen …”

But he does not move from his spot behind the desk, so Arwen places her basket down and sweeps forward, intent. The silver in his hair streaks liberally now, and lines furrow down his cheeks when he laughs – often – but otherwise Aragorn remains mostly unchanged from the presence filling so little yet so much of the many years of Arwen’s memory. Affection rushes through her, swelling like the river, growing like the trees in Lorien. That glade, too, is a memory full of joy. He is much better suited to a beard, though. Arwen tells him this.

“So you have said many many times,” Aragorn says, chuckling. “I have no plans of removing it from my face, beloved.”

“I know,” Arwen hums. “I am only observing.”

Slowly she comes around the desk, on even steps, until they are very nearly touching and she can fold her hands over the top of his book. She takes a long moment to look at him, and though she in her chosen mortality no longer carries the same potency of power that Tinuviel’s blood held before, she conducts her habitual scan of his spirit, the truth of it ebbing through her fingers where they touch. Beyond her duties as Queen (of which there are many, and she both capable and willing) this is what Arwen knows most deeply in her heart how to do.

Finding Aragorn no more burdened than usual (though perhaps a little distracted) she leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Ah –” he clears his throat and touches two long brown fingers to her arm. Unexpectedly, then, Aragorn stage whispers, “We are not … as alone as it seems.”

“What exactly do you mean?” Arwen, paused very close to his mouth, is compelled to whisper back.

And then,

“It’s alright!” comes a familiar little voice from seemingly nowhere, and all at once Arwen looks down to see the outside shape of the King’s voluminous cloak wriggle. Her mouth parts in surprise. The whisperer continues importantly, “You may kiss Ada if you like, Naneth. We are not looking!”

“Ssssshhh!” materializes a second, equally familiar little voice.

Arwen tilts her head, mystified, as her husband sets his expression into something communicating exclusively the secrets and patient indulgences of fatherhood. Then he jerks his chin towards the door, eyebrows raised and everything, not a moment before there sounds the sharp cadence of what can only be a young boy’s footsteps (and Arwen would know this boy’s as she knows her own heart) and into the library bursts their only son.

At the sight of his parents, Eldarion comes to an abrupt halt, and tries very hard to compose himself.

“Ahem,” he says, straightening. She sees the way his body moves to mimic his father, and also the grass stains on his knees, and the disheveled mop of his curls that means he has definitely spent the last hour running around in the gardens. Arwen is unbothered by this. “Hello Ada, hello Naneth. Have you – have you seen my sisters?”

The front of Aragorn stays conspicuously still.

“Your sisters?” asks Arwen, clasping her hands demurely before her.

“I am afraid my attention has been elsewhere,” says Aragorn gravely, holding aloft his book.

“Indeed,” adds Arwen. “So much so that he has forgotten to eat.”

Minutely, the cloak quivers.

“Hmmmm,” says Eldarion, lost in focus. “I must find them to create an alliance with the brave rangers in the North,” he speaks, almost as though to himself – he is really giving this quite a bit of thought. He is so absorbed that she could be in Rivendell again, drawn by a dream into her beloved, occupied glade … “For we must defend the townspeople but I cannot do it alone.”

Arwen blinks. Her heart is filled with tenderness.

“They have assigned you the role of orc again?” Aragorn is guessing, sympathetic.

Eldarion droops only a little before springing back up with full confidence. “Yes! But I am determined that we will create an alliance. I am a good orc, you see.”

With hasty goodbyes, he rushes away, taking the excitable sound of his footsteps with him.

A moment of quiet passes. Aragorn’s cloak begins giggling, so he spreads open his arms and herds them out one by one.

“You must go quietly now, down the hall and into the gardens,” whispers their father.

“Naneth,” begins their youngest, halfway out the room, “Naneth, do you think if we formed a nalliance –”

“An alliance,” corrects Aragorn, still whispering.

“Shhh,” interrupts the other, “or Eldarion will find us!”

“But he must be getting lonely!”

“Oh, ellie …”

Their little voices trail out of the door.

“I believe an alliance would work,” Aragorn offers Faramir’s many inert books, speaking at a normal register once more. The study now empty, Arwen turns back to her husband. His eyes are twinkling. She does not say anything, but moves toward him, as she has done so many times before, and lays her head to rest against his shoulder. In moments the book is tucked away, and the warm hands she knows so well are cradling her arms.

After a moment he says, “You are well? Arwen?” a gentle question in her ear. Arwen nods. She can now say what she knows, and why they are here:

She sustained them, and there was hope to be found.

Aragorn’s fingers rub over the gauzy sleeve of her dress. “Did you have your heart set on lunch?” he asks quietly.

“I did,” Arwen says, and turns to hold his eye. “I do.”

#i rewrote the ending 3 times to procrastinate posting this bc i am so Nervous #ive literally written them before but never like Seriously you know?#Thee Blueprint from when i was 8 years old....#my writing #spotify wrapped prompt meme #aragorn #arwen undomiel #aragorn x arwen #the lord of the rings #the tale of aragorn and arwen #lotr #lotrweek

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