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soft-bellied-tannies · 1 year

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Gaining Weight and Love, Pt. 1

Read here or on AO3!

⚠️ Sugar Baby Relationship ⚠️

Somehow, it felt like the most natural decision in the world when Yoongi brought up the idea of exploring a new dynamic in their relationship. They loved each other and were happy in their relationship, but they had way more money than they ever needed and sympathetic hearts.

Hoseok’s first suggestion was more charity work. As an already philanthropic couple, Yoongi felt that they would not get what they were looking for. They considered getting another dog, trying new hobbies, and taking random couple’s classes. Nothing seemed like the right fit.

After watching a random drama that his sister suggested, Hoseok offered the idea of a sugar baby. Yoongi immediately rejected it, telling his partner that they were not going to hire someone to have sex with them. That led to a long lesson from Hoseok that there were various ways to approach a relationship like that and it was a way for them to explore their more intense interests.

They had a very healthy relationship which led to open communication and no judgment from early on. Yoongi had been the one to insist on a kink checklist, seeing where they matched up and determining their hard limits.

A surprising one for both was weight gain, specifically being the one who facilitated someones gaining. They both gave it a try to be the one putting on weight, but it just never worked out - one always sacrificing their pleasure.

Once Hoseok laid out that this could be their chance to fully explore that aspect of their preferences, Yoongi was all in. The only thing left was to find the right person…or the right couple. It had been a surprise to both of them when they found the best fit for them and it was twice as exciting that it was two people instead of one.

During their weeks of planning, they had narrowed it down to two potential candidates - Jungkook, their favorite struggling barista, and Jimin, their favorite bartender who knew exactly how to flirt for extra tips. Both were clearly in need of support, always working whenever the pair visited the coffee shop or the bar. They went back and forth on it, Hoseok favoring Jimin and Yoongi favoring Jungkook.

It turned out to be a happy surprise when they approached the topic with Jimin and he said that he would have to talk to his boyfriend, Jungkook. The pair was shocked that they had managed to scope out another couple for their venture.

An added push was finding out that Jungkook also sold his art online and Jimin worked at a library during the day so both were easily working over 60 hours each week. Yoongi and Hoseok certainly had enough money to give so they decided to ask them both.

Jimin seemed hesitant at first, wanting to know exactly what the couple wanted from them before agreeing while Jungkook was ready to jump in, grateful for the incredible gift of money that would help him and his boyfriend achieve their dream. After dinner at Yoongi and Hoseok’s penthouse, they managed to get Jimin on board - with his conditions met.

While they had been more than willing to honor anything Jimin asked for, Hoseok and Yoongi both were pleased to have the discussion. Jimin had clearly done research after the couple presented their goal behind the agreement. He wanted to establish limits, negotiate terms, and ensure his and Jungkook’s safety - all very admirable in their eyes.

Staying healthy, the option to back out and a hard weight limit for himself with Jungkook able to establish his whenever he decided what it may be were his requests that they were happy to maintain. It genuinely made it more enjoyable for them to have active participants who understood rather than them agreeing and ghosting them when it went too far.

It started slowly with Yoongi and Hoseok giving them a weekly food budget to increase their intake and enough to cover their bills so each could let go of one job. The couple had been nearly underweight due to their intense budgeting and overworking lifestyle so there was an added element to overcome.

Getting them up to the average weight for their height and age was the first step which actually took longer than Yoongi and Hoseok expected. Habits were hard to break and money can be difficult to accept so Jimin and Jungkook did struggle to slow down.

Jimin asked to keep his job at the bar for at least a month to ensure it worked out. He was afraid that they would immediately go under if Yoongi and Hoseok decided they were no longer interested.

By the end of the first month, Jimin had agreed to leave the bar as he and Jungkook were pretty happy with their new situation. With a few pounds added to Jimin’s frame, his ribs were no longer visible and Jungkook’s additional seven pounds made his midsection just a little softer. Ten pounds between them in one month seemed like a pretty good start.

Yoongi and Hoseok praised their efforts and asked them to come over more regularly with Jimin now having the evenings open. A few things were quickly learned - Jungkook loved sweets and Jimin was more tempted by savory foods.

They had rented a private studio space for Jungkook to dedicate himself to his online art shop and kept it well stocked with snacks while Jimin would get surprised with a lunch delivery to the library a few times each week.

Within three months, Yoongi and Hoseok were pleased with their sweet sugar babies. Many things were learned and many enjoyable nights were had. Jimin had gained about twenty pounds, his weight tending to fluctuate a bit. Jungkook was around fifteen higher, hitting a little plateau after his first successful month.

Their current list of notable aspects of their endeavor included:

Jimin had started at a very small 135 while Jungkook had a little more to start at 150

They determined that Jimin’s weight limit was 200 while Jungkook was willing to go up to 230, both saying they would reconsider if they actually reached those numbers

Jungkook clearly had a bigger appetite, but Jimin put on weight more easily

Jimin was very much bottom-heavy, his ass holding most of his added weight

Even if the scale didn’t show a bigger number, Jungkook’s weight was more visible

A new challenge came when Jimin and Jungkook received an eviction notice for their apartment, the building being purchased for a larger development and set to be demolished in a few weeks' time. The stress of the situation caused Jimin to drop five pounds in a week and Jungkook to withdraw slightly from their caring hyungs.

Once confronted about the sudden change, Hoseok and Yoongi were actually relieved to hear the problem. The couple had gotten concerned that Jimin and Jungkook had realized they wanted out and were planning to break off the arrangement. They immediately offered their place as the solution, happy to have them around as much as possible and plenty of space in their large penthouse.

Jimin and Jungkook thought it over at length and decided it really was their best option. They loved their hyungs and had started to genuinely enjoy their relationship with them - also coming to realize that they were both into their partner’s weight gain. Jungkook couldn’t keep his hands off of Jimin’s widening ass and Jimin loved to give Jungkook gentle belly rubs as they lay in bed.

Two months into living with Yoongi and Hoseok had clearly manifested onto their sugar babies’ bodies. Between Yoongi’s home cooking every night and Hoseok’s fully stocked pantry, Jungkook had jumped up to 180 - gaining another fast fifteen pounds while Jimin gained back those five pounds lost with another twelve on top putting him at 167.

There had been a great amount of praise and appreciation from their hyungs with a bit of teasing for each other. Jimin knew that Jungkook was slightly jealous of his ass, especially when most of his boyfriend’s weight went to his plump midsection creating a bit of a round belly. The thirty new pounds on Jungkook’s frame made itself most aware on his stomach, visible beneath most of his t-shirts.

While Jimin had gained the same amount of weight, actually two pounds more than his boyfriend, his stomach was fairly flat - most definitely soft with a thin layer of even pudge but still flat. Unlike Jungkook, however, Jimin’s had become the definition of curvy. His hips widened significantly, emphasizing the roundness of his perky backside and the softness of his thighs. He had to size up his pants three times already to accommodate his ass while his shirt size remained completely the same.

Once they hit the seventh month of the agreement, Jimin and Jungkook decided to have a conversation with their hyungs. They had been discussing it with each other for some time and felt ready to make a big proposal. Yoongi and Hoseok had been nervous thinking that their ideal life was about to crumble, but they were pleasantly surprised once again.

Their sugar babies explained that they were no longer comfortable taking their hyungs money when the relationship was so reciprocal and loving. With a promise to continue their gaining agreement without a dollar sign pushing it, Jimin and Jungkook asked to be their boyfriends instead of their sugar babies. Yoongi could have cried with joy and Hoseok actually did, both immediately accepting the idea of a polyamorous relationship with the younger two who they had most certainly fallen for over the past few months.

By the time it was officially one year spent together, five months of dating, Jimin and Jungkook had gotten to open their dream bookstore with the help of their hyungs and gotten much closer to their weight goals - again, with the help of the hyungs. Their store was thriving and the scale was rising.

It was a Friday night that found Hoseok and Jungkook out on a one-on-one date, visiting the younger’s favorite food stands in the street market near their building. Yoongi and Jimin had been camped out on the couch, the latest episode of their favorite drama airing that night.

Yoongi had made them an extra spicy tteokbokki since the other two were out as they were the only ones who could handle the heat. The added benefit of the spice causing Jimin’s stomach to bloat may have also been a good reason to make it even if Yoongi wouldn’t openly admit it.

Over the past five months, the younger two had grown well - the weight distribution on their bodies remaining pretty much the same except for two new places. Jungkook’s hips and thighs had decided to take some of the burden off his stomach which evened out his gain well. And to everyone’s excitement, Jimin finally started to get a bit of belly - still nothing close to Jungkook’s but present enough to be noticed now.

Yoongi had been the most fixated on Jimin’s new growth, his hand finding the added plushness whenever he could. Between Jimin’s genetics and adamant skincare routine, his little belly was soft and smooth without a single mark or blemish. While empty, his stomach was still easy to miss under his shirts, especially when his prominent ass drew more attention.

However, when Jimin was full or bloated, his belly rounded out perfectly even and taut - which was the sight Yoongi was enjoying right at that moment. Between the spicy tteokbokki that Jimin had eaten two healthy servings of and his pint of ice cream on top to combat the heat, his belly popped out in front of him looking as if he were four months pregnant.

As he scraped the last bit of ice cream from the container, Jimin felt Yoongi’s hand reach over to gently rub his stomach. Jungkook definitely enjoyed stuffing and feeling full more than Jimin did, but he would be lying to himself if he said that it was a hardship for him to do. He loved the way his body received his weight and the fact that his boyfriends usually had their hands all over him didn’t hurt at all.

Jimin knew he was laying it on thick to rile up Yoongi, but he couldn’t resist relaxing fully into the couch with a deep exhale, pushing his belly further into his boyfriend’s hand. Before Yoongi could even say anything, Jimin continued to work him up.

“You know, I’m getting pretty close to my limit.”

“Hmm?” Yoongi said, not completely listening as he was focused on Jimin’s belly. After a moment, he seemed to process what had been said. “Wait, really?”

Jimin smirked, feeling a bit of pride at being able to elicit such an interested reaction. He nodded and leaned over to kiss a still-shocked Yoongi. “Yup, the scale said 194 this morning. Only six pounds left.”

Yoongi was speechless for a bit, doing the math in his head and realizing that meant Jimin was one pound away from putting on sixty pounds in one year. “Wow, baby, that’s amazing.”

“Thanks, love,” Jimin said, genuinely accepting the compliment as he was actually proud of himself too, but he still loved to tease his boyfriend so he continued. “Wanna hear something else pretty amazing?”

“Of course,” Yoongi answered, his hands moving instinctively as he caressed Jimin’s round midsection.

“Ggukie was at 218 this morning when we weighed together so it’s a race to see who gets to their limit first,” Jimin replied, his voice dropping into a sultry tone that sent heat pooling in Yoongi’s abdomen - ready to pounce on his sexy boyfriend.

“You two are going to kill me,” Yoongi mumbled, hands running across Jimin’s middle with more vigor as his lips latched onto Jimin’s neck. “Can’t believe you both gained over sixty pounds in a year. So sexy, baby.”

Jimin moaned, his resolve quickly breaking with the intense love he was receiving from Yoongi. All three of his boyfriends were thorough in their appreciation for his body and it still melted him into a puddle every time. “You know, Ggukie and I have been talking lately. Coming up with some ideas?”

“Yeah, baby, what’s that?” Yoongi asked, not slowing down for even one moment as he snuck his hand under Jimin’s shirt to finally get his hands directly on his taut, smooth skin.

“We were thinking about maybe…ah, Yoon…” Jimin started, trailing off when Yoongi dropped his lips lower on his neck, fingers dipping into his waistband.

Yoongi couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad for distracting Jimin when it brought out such beautiful sounds. “Thinking what, Minnie?”

Jimin tried to keep his mind clear long enough to share what he was thinking, quickly sinking into the pleasure of Yoongi’s dedicated body worship that was happening. “We researched how to lose weight without building too much muscle and made a plan to drop a bit in a healthy way so we can start gaining all over again. Sounds fun, right?”

Yoongi stopped his exploration of Jimin’s body, pulling back with wide eyes at the statement. He cupped Jimin’s plump cheeks and pressed a deep kiss onto his lips, trying to convey his appreciation for the action. “You two really thought about that?”

Jimin shrugged, blushing slightly at the more intense reaction than he was expecting. He took the opportunity to fully explain himself while he had Yoongi’s full attention.

“Well…yeah. Ggukie and I both really like the feeling of gaining. We like being spoiled and taken care of by you and Hobi, especially because you both do it so well. I still don’t feel comfortable going past 200 - I really like this size, but I don’t want to go higher right now and I want to still gain. Losing some and starting over seemed like the best way for us to keep everyone’s boundaries and still enjoy it. I know I could stay at this size and maintain it, but I genuinely think I wouldn’t like it as much. I know Ggukie wouldn’t. I think it’s at least worth trying and we can always try something else if it doesn’t go well.”

Yoongi looked at Jimin with a tender expression, hands still on his face as his thumbs gently ran back and forth across Jimin’s soft jaw. “I love you a whole lot, you know that, right?”

Jimin nodded, actually feeling a bit emotional to hear the sincerity in Yoongi’s tone. “Of course, I love you too.”

“I think it’s a great idea. Hobi and I will support you both and we will make sure everything is done in a safe way. As long as you and Jungkookie are happy and healthy, then I will gladly go along with it,” Yoongi responded, sinking back down onto the couch after being up on his knees for a while to hover over Jimin.

“But there is one thing," Yoongi added.

“What?” Jimin asked, expecting Yoongi to make some sort of condition or addition to the proposed plan. He looked at his boyfriend attentively waiting for him to share his thoughts.

Yoongi leaned forward, hand drifting back to Jimin’s still bloated belly and his lips dropping another kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek before he whispered, “You still have those six pounds to go, baby.”

“O-Oh…uh, yeah, I do…” Jimin stuttered out, not expecting the conversation to shift back so quickly and definitely not expecting to eat any more that night. However, Jimin was not a quitter and he loved seeing Yoongi worked up over his belly so he went with it.

“More ice cream?”

Jimin thought about it for a moment, trying to recall what was stocked in their kitchen. “Is there any of Hobi’s birthday cake left?”

Yoongi nodded, knowing there was a few slices left on the second shelf of their fridge having thought about Jungkook eating them over the next few days. “You want cake instead?”

“No, cake too,” Jimin said simply, deciding to really go for it. If he and Jungkook were going to lose some weight soon, he should really take his opportunities to get some good stuffings in beforehand.

“Too?” Yoongi asked, confused about what his boyfriend meant at first.

“Yeah, can’t have birthday cake without ice cream, right?” Jimin replied with an innocent smile that Yoongi saw right through. His bloated belly that slightly calming down as Jimin digested his big dinner was only going to tighten back up, but neither of them was going to complain - exciting to see what their boyfriends thought when they returned too as Jimin made no mention of stuffing tonight especially when that was more Jungkook’s preference.

Yoongi leaned forward, patting Jimin’s belly softly and placing a kiss on the younger’s lips. “You are so fucking sexy, Park Jimin. I love you so much,” he declared as he stood up, not taking his eyes off his boyfriend's beautiful body relaxed back on their couch.

“I love you too, Yoonie. Don’t forget the sprinkles.”

“I wouldn’t dare, Min,” Yoongi said with a smile as he walked out of the room.

Jimin’s voice called out after him a few seconds later. “Can you add some whipped cream too?”

“Of course!”

“Maybe some of that caramel sauce that Hobi made too!”

“Okay, Min, sounds good!”

“And some chocolate chips!”

Yoongi nearly moaned in response to the order Jimin was racking up, “ Absolutely. ”

All Yoongi got in response was Jimin’s happy laughter from the living room as he waited patiently for the hefty round two of his dessert. As he piled on the ingredients, the front opened to reveal their boyfriends returning home from their date.

“We’re back, loves!” Hoseok called out followed by a stuffed-looking Jungkook saying, “We brought mochi!”

Yoongi could have fallen over at the response from Jimin who seemed to be on a mission to kill him that night.

“Ooh, mochi! Come share with me, Ggukie!”

#bts feedism #bts weight gain #chubby bts #chubby jungkook #chubby jimin #feeder yoongi #feeder hoseok #bts sugar baby #soft bellied tannies

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greysfall · 3 years

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My 4444-word review of NEO TWEWY (with personal illustration + heavy spoilers)

My overall critical score for the game is 7.5/10, while my personal enjoyment score is 8.5/10. This review is posted as I have 80% completed the game, got the secret ending and achieved the Angel psychic rank. I’ll first start with the main pros and cons as follows.

PROS:

- Enjoyable as a whole, still upholding the first game’s spirit in world building and sharing the same backbone - which was mostly revealed in the Secret Reports, it’s impossible to grasp the story without reading them.

- The new cast and new game is charming in their own way

- The old cast’s return is one of the biggest highlights for sure, it was fun and impactful. Everyone stays true to themselves and also had their own stories wrapped up nicely.

- Boss designs are cool, new pins are fun to use and collect

- The connection between the old and new cast is well written and executed, including but are not limited to the tension between the old and new protagonist, the weird but fun interaction between the 2 Composers, the new friendships revealed and formed

- Sho being in the main cast is something so uniquely TWEWY and uniquely Sho

- Still good music

- Still many fun side quests, some of them really uphold the same quirky spirit of the old game and some are surprisingly touching

- Many new nice stores and yummy looking foods to explore

- The map is really easy to memorize for me, it’s fun to travel around the “current” Shibuya to see all the differences compared to the past

- The social network is crazy and interesting to read through

- Has an anti-frustration system to help 100% complete the game more easily and earn money faster, so post-game is relatively managable.

- Overall, I really feel the efforts the team poured into making this as their passion project, not just during the development process but for all the last 14 years. They showed the vision of what they wanted to make, at the same time giving something to both the old as well as new fans.

CONS:

- The biggest problem with the game is scenario writing. The story is so heavily back-loaded. The director himself thought it would be better to balance out the tension flow by adding more at the beginning but gave in to the scenario writer in the end, probably due to time pressure. This results in an underwhelming execution of characterization and lots of wasted potentials for the first half of the game.

- I struggle to view it as a stand-alone game, since the backstory and the old cast both play such an important role in the core of the game. If someone plays this game without having played the OG, they can only enjoy it on surface value at best.

- The new cast is nice but most of them aren’t quite as intriguing as the old cast, maybe it’s cuz they’re all too nice deep down that they lack a little bit of an edge, of that batshit craziness that everyone in the OG used to have? I think some characters (Fret, Nagi) ended up weaker in terms of characterization because the writer is too afraid of making them unlikeable – which kind of backlashed cuz they only became likable in the most expectable way to cater for a specific group of fans. I would have wished for the other team leaders to be more crazy too, had they not suffered 30+ loops of the Game…

- The CAMERAWORK IS HELL.

- Gameplay does get tedious at certain points with all the time travels.

- Shiba is so badly written as a villain, some Shinjuku characters should be given more screentime cutting into Shiba’s– like Hishima or Kaie or even, Hazuki (though his limited presence also solidified his importance).

- Some of the main character designs, for example Beat’s hairstyle and his food reactions are hilariously bad. What’s the point of covering up most of his unique facial features?

- Some of the minor/side characters’ design are too cool for them to have such a small role (eg: Ayano, Eiru). Ryoji did get much screentime but is nowhere as fun as Makoto was.

- Overall the scope of this game is made a little too big for the team to handle as perfectly as the last game that was very compact, it felt somewhat rushed in development too so the missing pieces are clearly there in the final picture

The entry fee versus paying for it all in the end

An important difference between the Neo game and the original Shibuya game was that the Shibuya rule asked for an entry fee that is the Player’s most important asset, stated as a chance the Composer gives them to reexamine themselves. Meanwhile, the Shinjuku rule neither encourages nor allows personal growth and ultimately aims to erase as many Players as possible. It’s a pity we were never introduced to the full Shinjuku rulebook, as it seems like the system there focuses more on building up power and a grand government to compare with the individuality-driven system of Shibuya.

When you have to compare the new game and the original game (OG), this is an important factor to consider. Also, the OG has a serious storyline running through and through, locked with a different partner/GM creating unique atmosphere for each week and you don’t get to see your old partners again until the end. NEO’s team system does not allow such deep insight and communication between the Players. All of your teammates are always there throughout, the dynamic does change with each new addition but it is not as prominent as a partner change.

Another important factor is how the OG was built from scratch for a new platform as “something no one has ever seen before”, while Neo recycled a lot of old unused ideas from the previous development (check out this interview for more details). The development team for NEO lacks 2 key members and had a change of writer so the final product is not as strongly bound together as the last game.

The new cast is definitely inspired by today’s teenagers (from the view of creators), compared to the old cast they’re more sociable and always seem to take whatever works for them despite feeling unstable inside. They are all innocent and genuinely nice kids, avoiding to hurt each other to a degree that they end up keeping some sort of distance. They’re also unable to communicate at deeper levels, always stagnant at this half-baked stage of equilibrium without any motivation to get to the core of things. That is the cost of entering the game without an entry fee, without even dying or having a reason to be there/to fight seriously. These kids were stolen from the RG into a Game that was decidedly the worst environment for them to change or develop, just wandering around cluelessly to find a way “out” until tragedies started to unfold one by one and they ended up being charged the total sum of the price for their actions – ultimately losing everything in the end.

That is, I believe, a story arc which can resonate more to the youth of today rather than of my generation. If the message of the old game was to “listen”, enjoy life to the fullest and accept to trust others, the message of the new game is to “speak up” from the inside, trying to understand yourself and take actions instead of just going with the flow and finally, to take responsibility for such actions.

If Neku was handpicked by the Composer for being the special one with an all-dense soul to ensure victory of the game then Rindo was just a normal kid chosen out of random by Kubo to be his back-up plan, who just happened to have a high enough imagination to awaken the incredible power from his pin. Rindo was then officially chosen by the Composer as Josh picked up and handed the pin to him again, this time not as Josh’s personal Proxy – but as the Proxy to represent the normal people of Shibuya and via whom he could gamble if humans can fight for their own fate.

The underworld heroine and the hero with little of his own

Shoka is for me a refreshing and layered heroine. She’s the kind of character that took at least 3 trials of creators to form as a complete individual – that included Nomura who gave her the base design and Reaper background, Gen who gave a more cunning touch and the writers who made her English dialogues more punchy. Dishonesty equals “tsundere” is such a cliché, so the English writers tried really hard to avoid that trope in my opinion, while still letting her good intention come through.

She serves as the character who is informed of everything the players should have known, and there was almost nothing she could do about it. Almost. Until she met Rindo.

They were drawn to each other by sharing a state of “not having anything of their own”. They both started out with not being able to truly know themselves, Shoka even hated her RG life but also managed to mature from that stage before Rindo. She must have vibed with Shiki’s love and passion in the Gatto Nero threads, initiating her connection with Shibuya and understanding herself more. With Shoka as Swallow, they were able to open up to each other and offer mental support… but was still not getting to the centre of their problems because for all this time, Shoka could not tell Rindo the most important things about herself.

How did Shoka feel when she met Rindo at the UG? She probably didn’t want to hope that he would live the day until she witnessed the Twisters’ potentials. From the very beginning, they were both incredibly conscious of each other and also constantly frustrated that the person they happened to “notice” was such a condescending bitch/a clueless loser. The Shinjuku Reapers are overall quite drunk in power and uncompassionate to Players, Shoka included. She is also a master of dissociation, which results in her constant boredom, tone swings, haughtiness and subconsciously distancing herself from the friend – the boy she cares about – from false hope, as she judged from facts that it was a hopeless situation where nothing could ever be. Maybe she is naturally a bit of a chameleon just like her name suggests (Shoka 紫陽花 = hydrangea, the color-changing flower), so putting on an act and always dissociating herself from what’s important was easy, while hiding her contradiction was impossible. It was the ex-Reaper Beat who broke it out to her, that she should decide whether she really cared and wanted to do something for a change. He knew how it felt like to cross that line, and knew she wanted to too.

Shoka is endeared by many of the Shinjuku Reapers and has shown independent acts of kindness (the Shinjuku ghost), proving that her kind and truthful side is as real as her harsh and dishonest side – which makes her a nice mirror to the previous heroine Shiki, who also embraced a dichotomy of self-complex and self-love within her character. In the end, she was the first of the new cast to ultimately accept all that is important to her and independently made the decision to help save Shibuya despite all costs.

She was jealous at Rindo’s interaction with Tsugumi and Kanon but remained silent cuz she wasn’t at a place to have any say about it. She also didn’t reveal about Swallow because that would only add an awkward irrelevance to their current situation, as she was too ready to face erasure at the end of the Game. She only wished to “play a game” with him, be it FanGo or the Reapers’ Game. The tension that the team could only feel at the end, she’s felt it the entire time. The song “DIVIDE” is applicable to not just one bond in the game, but it always makes me think of theirs. There is always a “divide” between her and Rindo throughout the course of their journey, as the living and the dead, as a Player and Reaper, as someone who has a place to return to and someone who doesn’t, someone who knows little but wields too much power and someone who knows a lot despite not being able to do much.

“If only I had the chance to connect with you on the other side

But time goes on, and without us realizing it

The battle is getting heated

Time goes on, and without us realiazing it

Divided again”

To be honest, maybe I didn’t grow any affection for the new main cast from Rindo’s perspective but from Shoka’s. Since I started to sympathize with Shoka, I started to see the boy in a more “real” way. The real Rindo, behind his peaceful façade with others, would lash out on Shoka for her unfairly harsh attitude while none of the others cared. He could also subtly feel that mantle of unspoken secrets from her, her own contradictions, the unresolved chemistry between themselves – and not knowing what to do with it rather than to feel angry with all the unfairness he could not process. (As a Libra too, he’s triggered the most by unfairness!)

It is actually a positive development as he’s at least “reacting” to something strongly now rather than to keep evading his problems. During my replay, I clearly saw the difficult situation Shoka was in, her remaining harshness after the Motoi incident was due to her internal struggle with a mission to save her own life, versus a chance to really be with the team. Her decision was to do both at the risk of losing favour from both sides. Rindo started to accept her layer by layer, as the person who resonated the most to her contradicting nature from the start and knew that via learning her resolve, he has learnt his too.

Later into the game, she even got too much of his attention. Maybe even without knowing she’s Swallow, he’s familiar with her thinking direction and Swallow had always been closer to him than any other friend. It was only after she had to betray her important ones twice that she could start being truly honest. The scene when she died a 2nd time left a strong impression in me, the little reveal let Rindo know that he is also losing Swallow as he’s losing Shoka – and that only death could drive the last secret out of her. Her final “Later, loser” echoed through Rindo as it was the final truth, with only him remaining to hear it: they had actually, already lost everything.

Rindo was the boy who never dared to face all that matters to him until he lost it all, fighting an unfair battle in the faith that they would somehow still win. Shoka was the girl who always knew what was dear to her, but never dared to think she could be together with them ever after and still threw her all into a battle she knew was losing. I think they stir each other on naturally to fill out their gaps, similar to what the Shibuya game partner systerm would have aimed for. The end reward was a little divine intervention to help close up the divide between them once and for all.

During the game there was not enough space to process anything personal so at the ending when they officially became “friends”, it was an important affirmation of their bond. Some people complained it was friendzoning but it’s not, they just have arrived at the perfect place to start something more. “From now on, we will truly be together” – I read it as that kind of message.

The heroine from a lost battle, with her story taken away

After reading the secret reports and playing the game to be surprised of how small a role Tsugumi had in the main game despite being the “Hype-chan” thought to be a major character of the next TWEWY installment, many fans would feel sad at a missed opportunity to see the Shinjuku arc in full depiction.

It was shown clearly that, a Shinjuku arc was very carefully planned out and is a vital part of the whole story, yet it could not be made due to various circumstances behind the development scene. I would assume, that the team were not able to make a TWEWY game that ended on a despairing note, but it already happened in their mind, thus becoming a mental burden that forced them to break away from it and started the game anew with NEO. A significant part of NEO became the healing arc for the Shinjuku characters, especially for Tsugumi though I really wished more emphasis should have been placed on her rather than Shiba. We didn’t even get to see her brother – Shinjuku’s Conductor who had a vital role and instead was given the clueless Shiba, who had absolutely no idea what’s going on all the way until the last day in NEO. It’s as if Tsugumi has had her story stolen away from her, because her own battle ended with a saddening loss.

I think every time the game creators look at Tsugumi, they would feel that sadness too. Maybe to them, she is a bigger character than what is seen by the fans, as despite their failed effort to depict her story, she’s lived in their mind for all these years through periods of destruction, healing and rebuild. Though it is a pity we could not get to experience the full scope of the Shinjuku story, the creators was clear about the place they wished for it to arrive at.

Individuality, connection and the social network

The team system adapted from Shinjuku rulebook does not allow much room for personal development, as the team dynamic is closer to a work relationship forced to bear results, than a spiritual bond to max out all corners of understanding as found in the partnership system. The old Shibuya system allowed only 1 winner and 1 week limit per game, while the new rule declares for a 1 winning team and only the team at last place will be erased – the other teams will enter another loop. Furthermore, whichever team to challenge the unwinnable Ruinbringers will face the risk of ending up dead last followed by erasure. As a result, the longest-standing teams are most likely not the strongest ever recorded, but the ones who have figured out a strategy to simply survive until something changes, enjoying their newly found social constructs while they are at it. Basically, it is a system to hypnotise players into the illusion that they are still “living”.

Therefore, we as players would not get to the core of each Player individually as fast and directly as we did in the last game. The Twisters were able to stand out not because they’re powerful, they only started to have a real chance after growing enough to each form a meaningful and personal connection to another teammate. It did not come as a team, nor did it intiate from the existing friendship between Rindo and Fret. In fact, I did not find much solidity or anything truly note-worthy about the main team and new characters within themselves until they started clashing with other team members, Reapers and new recruits from week 2 onwards. Rindo found his personal development with Shoka (via a clash with Motoi and pretty much a mini dating sim between them), then via the confrontation of his role with Neku; Fret found his with Kanon then Nagi, the team learned about the real Neku via Beat, Neku entered the UG via Coco’s wish to save Tsugumi… it was not the team but their personal links that empowered them to fight and solve each of their problems.

The other team leaders may have failed because they did not form such personal links, after 30+ hopeless loops Fuya’s team all fell apart to pursue their own interest even at the cost of erasure, Motoi quit his KOL façade to work like a dog for the Reapers (probably to save just his own ass not his team), while Kanon dropped her tricks to find changes via honest cooperation in acceptance of a fair loss. The despairing note in that is huge without making much of a scene because their failure didn’t happen at their best effort to “win”, but in their last attempt to find a way “out”. Even Shiba got his way “out” in the end thanked to his personal friendship with Hishima and Tsugumi.

Something has shifted in the mindset of the game creators in the last 14 years, as both games are about “connection vs individuality” but the last game focuses more on connection between just individuals and this one on the overall network that is formed out of those individual connections.

The introduction of Beat into the main cast was truly the bridge between old and new, they helped each other out in several turns before officially recruiting him. Beat is a character whom a lot of fans including myself have felt somewhat concerned about after Neku disappeared from the RG, so when the new kids welcomed Beat with warm and organic interaction and Beat seemed happy, I started to feel like I wanted to help them out too! I think the overall team chemistry is enjoyable enough for new players, but I could warm up to the new kids more from the pov of a returning character – whom I’m glad to be Beat, as the older brother figure who is genuinely kind, fun, serious and upbeat at the same time; who is needed and needs the kids in return.

The social network is a fun and refreshing feature. You can read all of the crazy tidbits about Shibuya and the links each character have formed with the town people, it’s also fun to visualize how the characters act off screen. Characters’ profiles provide extra insight into their background too, like how it reveals Tsugumi has been friend with Coco during her time in the RG. During the game when not all characters have showed up, you can sometimes guess which empty spot will belong to whom. For example there is a 1 character linking to Neky that is not linked to anyone else, so I could guess that was Joshua, and that another character linking only to Joshua was probably Hazuki, hinting that the 2 Composers are related before either of them even showed up.

Hazuki only showed up for 5 minutes, but his presence is so vital and true to the game that I think he is the most memorable out of the new cast. The two Composers have such an intriguing bond, with their yin/yang or phoenix/dragon themes, opposite color design, the sempai/kouhai tone and the way they keep some sort of distance/work relationship as if it’s mandatory between Higher beings, yet at the same time they can talk so casually because they are truly equal – and different from one another. I have written a separate meta on them here.

Some people pointed out, that all Shinjuku characters’ names and themes are based off Hanafuda cards and the Phoenix in Hanafuda belongs to the Paulownia suit – which is Joshua’s name flower. This is so interesting because it feels like the creators somehow saw it as a sign to interweave the Shibuya and Shinjuku storylines together. Though it doesn’t come out much on the surface, it’s fascinating nonetheless considering both Josh and Haz had at some point interfered with the other town’s affairs.

“Shibuya tour with Haz” was such a special scene, as it happened between 2 characters who do not/no longer have a reason to care about Shibuya, on the subject of what is worth saving about Shibuya. Hazuki carried out the purification of Shinjuku and stepped in to restore Shibuya just as part of his job and unlike Hanekoma or Joshua who both possess profound understanding of humanity, he really didn’t know humans at all. Rindo’s irrational wish invoked in him a sense of curiosity, to try gambling on something irrationally and learning a bit of what his senior have experienced. With all the pieces put together, it provides an overview on Higher beings as a whole, and that Joshua and Hanekoma are really the odd ones out with Hazuki being somewhere in between them and the rest.

The old friends

It’s easy to have returning characters overshadow the new cast as they have already matured out of their personal story arc and stayed in our hearts for all this time. In the end, I have managed to enjoy both the old and new cast separately and altogether, and they will both find their own place in our memory of this game for the long term.

Sho is truly as crazy as ever, the game wouldn’t be the same if Sho is any less of what he is. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like Neky or Beat is younger than Nagi at all, with moments when it seems like Neky has aged 14 years instead of 3 years. His friendship with Coco surprised me pleasantly, and their interaction together with Beat was fun to watch. Rhyme’s found a new dream and her friendship with Kaie is precious too, especially considering that she can still talk to him online after the game ended. Josh and Neku’s interaction suggested that they have resolved the past and are on equal terms now, they even parted ways in good spirit and I don’t feel any worry about them like I did before.

Neku and Shiki’s reunion scene was beautiful, theirs is such a special bond that it has grown and supported them even without being able to see each other. I am so happy to see them all again and that they stay true to who they are, albeit looking more grown up, cooler and happier than ever before.

Overall, NEO can’t become a classic on par with the OG, but is definitely a good sequel and a good game in its own rights. I’m happy with whether or not there will be a 3rd game to complete the 3 monkeys theme, but if there will be – I hope the creators can really find the time to learn from the last 2 games and start over with a fresh mindset and strong core.

#neotwewy #neotwewyspoilers #ntwewy #ntwewy spoilers #neo the world ends with you #twewy #review #meta #neo twewy #shoka sakurane #rindo kanade #tsugumi matsunae

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lokiondisneyplus · 3 years

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Most Marvel post-credit scenes hint at the future. Loki opted for a blunter approach: the God of Mischief would return in season 2.

Based on the final turn of events, there was really no other choice: Loki (Tom Hiddleston), having journeyed to the furthest point in spacetime with his variant Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) to meet the founder of the TVA, a scientist-turned-survivor-of-multiversal-war known as He Who Remains (Jonathan Majors), finds himself zapped into a new reality when his lady self slays the omnipresent being. The mind reels!

Creator Michael Waldron takes delight in the endless possibilities of Loki’s core premise. And as a veteran of Rick and Morty, he knows what anchors a mind-bending show, and what will keep Hiddleston’s character hurtling through his chaotic, rewritten future. Below, Polygon talks to Waldron about landing on the key choices of Loki season 1, what to expect from season 2, and a bit on his next project, the wrestling drama Heels, which is set to premiere on Aug. 15.

Did you know there’d be a second season of Loki from the beginning or was that choice made later in the process?

Michael Waldron: We always knew that it was a possibility. We always knew that we wanted to propel Loki and these characters out into the MCU after this, into further stories. But that didn’t really crystallize as a sure thing until we were in production and everything. And as we were really figuring out the finale.

So you were still cracking the ending as you shot the show?

There was a hiatus due to the pandemic. So things were constantly being retooled because of that. I think, by and large, everything with He Who Remains and the Sylvie-Loki conflict was always there. But that cliffhanger was the sort of thing that suddenly became a really appealing opportunity, a chance for that to lead into a second season.

What element of the series helped you crack the macro story of Loki, and made all the other pieces fall into place? Each episode almost feels like a standalone adventure, similar to Rick and Morty, but what helped it all click?

The first couple of weeks in the writers room was just laying out the individual episodes. It was very important to me that each episode stood on its own, and you could say “This is the Lamentis episode,” “This is the apocalypse moon episode,” “This is the Void episode.” I didn’t want it to just be cut up chapters and have one long continuous story. Obviously, we had to figure out the time travel for things to slot into place. I think a big idea for us was the way you get around the TVA by hiding in apocalypses. That felt like such a big, cool, exciting idea that it drove the action of episode 2, episode 3, and in a way it’s like Alioth is the ultimate apocalypse that He Who Remains is hiding behind. That sci-fi idea cracked a lot open for us. I know that after we had that I went home and I slept a little sounder.

Did adding the multiverse to the Marvel Cinematic Universe feel like blowing something up or expanding it, in terms of narrative possibilities?

In the same way that after the first couple Iron Man movies, and with the first Avengers, suddenly these movies were kind of going to space. Then we had Guardians. I think of the multiverse as another version of that. It’s new ground to cover, and particularly interesting because characters meeting other versions of themselves and other versions of people they know is... cool. That’s just a cool sci-fi concept! But I think with anything, as you expand outward, it only works if the humanity remains. It’s exciting to watch characters dealing with big crazy multiversal conflicts because we can see ourselves in them. I think you just have to hold on to the humanity that makes these stories work in the first place.

Did you go back to the Thor movies for Loki? Was there anything to find in the past of Marvel as you were paving the future?

Absolutely. I mean I watched them many times, contrary to what Twitter might think because I did some bits on there saying that I’ve never seen Avengers and I upset some people [laughs]. I have seen it many times. “Confirmed: Loki writer has seen Avengers and saw it before writing Loki show.”

In fact, I was watching all these movies on a loop in the writers’ room. I gleaned so much because you watch the evolution of the character. Avengers was particularly informative because our story picks up Loki right after that, but I also I found a lot of inspiration in Thor: The Dark World, a maybe sometimes maligned movie that I actually really enjoy. I just think there’s great stuff with Loki being tangentially responsible for the death of his mother, how he reacts to that. That is the start of his journey of that version of Loki’s redemption, so I was inspired by that.

What’s propelling the characters into season 2? Where are you headed in basic terms?

In season 1, you saw a lot of characters reckoning with and questioning their own glorious purpose, and that glorious purpose changing, [characters] realizing that that can change. Everybody except for Sylvie. I think she holds onto hers, which is vengeance, and to the detriment of us all, perhaps. And we’ve got a Loki who, at the top of our show, assessed himself as a villain and, I would argue, at the end of our show, has become a little bit of a hero. There’s nothing more heroic to me than fighting for the right thing and losing. You see that washing over him as he’s there back at the TVA, after Sylvie has knocked back there. And then he gets up because that is what heroes do — they keep going. So I think that you’re gonna see a Loki that looks at himself in a different way certainly that at the top of this.

Do you hope to explore more of Sylvie’s backstory in season 2?

I guess we’ll see. We certainly have our own rich backstory for her, stuff that didn’t get to make it into the show. Elissa Karasik, our episode 2 writer, wrote a lot of amazing backstory for Sylvia and everything. So those ideas exist out there.

And her version of Thor?

Tune in.

How did He Who Remains come about? Did you bring the character to Marvel or was that a character Marvel hoped to introduce?

I was pushing and our team was pushing early on in the writers’ room that it should be a version of Kang up in that Citadel, sort of fusing the mythology of He Who Remains with a little bit of the Immortus mythology. And that was a thing we were excited to do. And it became clear that it actually made sense for our story. The only way we were going to do it was if it made sense, but it was like, who had a better argument for creating the TVA to prevent other versions of themselves from existing then a guy as evil as Kang the Conqueror?

You wrote the upcoming Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness — did Marvel hire you for that after Loki? Does the movie feel like a continuation of the show?

Yeah, that opportunity came as we were getting ready to start production on Loki. It was a pleasure. I got to work with Sam Raimi, a hero of mine. I was in London for five months making that movie at the top of this year. We had a blast. I think that it’s a continuation in as much as ever every Marvel movie is to some extent a chapter in an ongoing story, but these things are meant to stand alone and the most important thing about Doctor Strange too is making the most kick ass Doctor Strange movie we could.

Is Loki a two-part show now or are you invested in telling a longer story with future seasons beyond season 2?

Time will tell, but I do my hope is that season 1 stands on its own. We always wanted to tell a complete story there. And in whatever the next chapter may be will stand on its own as well.

Your next show, Heels, is already on the way. We got a big preview out of Comic-Con this year, but I’m curious about the scope of this story. You’re starting with two brothers running an independent wrestling franchise, but you’ve dropped the name “Vince McMahon” a few times — is this about the building of an empire? Would you liken it to The Godfather or Breaking Bad?

I always thought about it a little bit of a Scorsese-sort-of rise, and we’ll see if there’s a fall. Starting from humble beginnings and trying to build some crazy. Wrestling was certainly not always the empire that it is and that’s what’s interesting, to watch the evolution of a family-run wrestling business from something you do in your small towns and perhaps a national, even global empire. That would be a really compelling arc for a show over the course of several seasons. I’d be excited to explore that.

What’s the most dramatically fulfilling wrestling moment you’ve witnessed? What’s the bar for the wrestling drama of Heels?

It’s gotta be Hulk Hogan turning heel in the WCW. There was an invasion storyline, these guys from WWF, Kevin Nash and Scott Hall, came over and they were the bad guys. It was at a Pay-per-view and and they were beating up on the good guys that you love, and here comes Hulk Hogan in the yellow and red and he’s the hero. “The Hulk’s gonna get ‘em! The good guy’s here!” And then the Hulk just leg drops Randy Savage. That was the original Red Wedding. I just think about the boldness of turning him heel. To a little kid... I wasn’t even like a massive Hulk fan, but he was just such a mythological figure. What a chance that Hulk Hogan took as a performer, as a bankable kind of movie star at that point. That was bold, risky storytelling and it set off two years of amazing storytelling with Hogan just playing a craven, cowardly heel and just being so evil. I really respect the hell out of them for doing that. That was a great storyline.

#michael waldron #interview #loki #s1 #s2

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 3 years

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Psycho Analysis is a series that looks at villains across various media in the hopes of coming to something of a consensus on the overall quality of the character. Are they performed well? Do they enrich the narrative? Are their motives fleshed out? Are they voiced by Tim Curry and thus a sex icon?

There are a lot of important questions that I look into, but ultimately, Psycho Analysis boils down to asking one simple little question: How bad can a character be?

Thankfully, there’s one villain who decided to answer that question for me... in song form.

Psycho Analysis: The Once-ler

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Yeah, I’m finally talking about everyone’s favorite greedy bastard who, back in some of the darkest days of Tumblr history, ended up being the premier sexyman on the website. People were thirsting over this twiggy weirdo, acting as if he were God’s gift to women and shipping him with alternate versions of himself. Much like the movie he’s from, he is now incredibly hard to take seriously.

But hey, speaking of alternate versions of himself, I’m going to be covering him from the original book and the animated short film as well. Might as well just knock it all out of the park at once, right? Now let’s see how ba-a-a-ad this guy can be.

Motivation/Goals: The Once-ler is all about biggering. He’s making thneeds (things that everyone needs) and he is gonna stop at nothing to craft these things. Not even the power of the Lorax, Danny DeVito or otherwise, is going to stay his hand from getting that sweet, soft Truffula fluff to make his wares. This is ultimately a little unrealistic, at least for the Illumination version; if Danny DeVito asked me not to do something, I’d listen, no questions asked.

Performance: In the animated special, Bob Holt does double duty, as he is portraying both Once-ler and the title character. It works really well for what they’re going for, and the double casting is interesting because it highlights the ultimate role of the Lorax as the Once-ler’s conscience given form.

In the film, Ed Helms portrays the Once-ler, and he’s fine. He’s certainly better casting than Audrey, but that’s not particularly saying much considering that’s a non-singing Taylor Swift (when Cats is able to utilize Taylor Swift better than your musical, you know there’s trouble). I don’t know, Ed Helms is fun and all, but I’m just not sure his take on the Once-ler is all too compelling overall.

Final Fate: In the original book and the special, the Once-ler wins… but even he realizes it’s a terrible, pointless victory, and all he has achieved is ruin, his family leaving him, his business ultimately collapsing, and the environment permanently damaged. He’s left as a miserable, jaded hermit, broken by the bleak consequences his greedy actions have sown upon the world and only able to tell his story and pass on the last Truffula seed in the hopes that maybe, maybe someday the trees can regrow and the Lorax will return. The Illumination version follows this but then tacks on a happy ending where the Lorax and Once-ler reunite because as we know ambiguity and bittersweet endings cannot exist in children’s films.

Best Scene: Obviously it’s the scene where he shakes his ass to seduce Jack Frost, in one of the greatest gay romances ever put to film.

Joking aside, it is undoubtedly his villain song. It has become such a meme, but real talk? “How Bad Can I Be” slaps. This is a really good song, probably too good for the movie but you know what, I’ll take it.

youtube

Best Quote: HOW BA-A-A-AD CAN I BE? Yes, I’m using a line from his villain song. Sue me.

Final Thoughts & Score: What can one really say about the movie version of the Once-ler that hasn’t already been run into the ground? Well, how about… He’s not too bad, honestly? Like, yes, he has next to nothing to do with his book counterpart and they really go way too far into trying to make a capitalist pig sympathetic… but the animated special from the 70s did that too. I think the Once-ler honestly works better when there is a dash of complexity to him and he isn’t just a simple-minded Captain Planet villain.

Of course, the issue here is that the 70s version took a simpler approach, kind of less is more. The 70s Once-ler brings up some valid points to the Lorax about his work, and the Lorax can’t help but agree that there’s no easy answer while also stressing that the environmental devastation is still really, really bad. It works, it feels complex, and it arguably helps the ultimate point that we need to protect the environment better than even the book did (and I love the book, don’t get me wrong, but its take on the Once-ler is a bit too simple for its own good; it almost runs into the Femme Fatale problem by being a bit too much of a strawman). The movie version has a bit too much going on, especially with his family. His family are much more blatantly evil, greedy, and manipulative, but they’re relegated to the background for much of the film and don’t effect things all that much. The whole narrative would have been infinitely stronger if they were the greater scope villains behind Once-ler and were who needed to be defeated and maybe taught a lesson, but instead they are ignored in favor of someone I’ll address very shortly.

All of this leaves movie Once-ler feeling extremely disjointed, but not irredeemably so. As I said before, his villain song is unironically awesome, and as lame as it is compared to the more haunting, contemplative ending of the book and the special, I’m not so much of a curmudgeon that I didn’t at least smile when he finally reconciled with the Lorax. Ultimately though, him being memed to death really didn’t help his case, but it means I’m not giving the movie version anything less than a 3/10. He might in fact be the best “so bad it’s good” villain ever, or at least up there. He’s just so undeniably enjoyable even if the narrative isn’t making him as complex as it thinks it is. The animated special version gets a 9/10, the book version is a 7/10, and the Once-ler’s family gets a 5/10 for being an interesting concept they sadly do little with, which will now be elaborated on as I follow up on the foreshadowing from the last paragraph...

Psycho Analysis: Aloysius O’Hare

Remember how I said the Once-ler’s family gets ignored in favor of someone else? Here he is, Aloysius O’Hare, one of the absolute lamest villains ever put to screen.

Motivation/Goals: He’s greedy. That’s it. I’m not kidding. He’s just a cartoonish caricature of a rich person, which still makes him a realistic portayal but also makes him boring as sin compared to the wacky dude with a big musical number about how bad he can be.

Performance: Rob Riggle does a decent job, but there’s really not much for him to work with here. This character is a cardboard cutout who exists to be as cartoonishly greedy and evil as possible with no nuance so the kids know who to root against and so that Once-ler doesn’t look bad in comparison.

Final Fate: Look, he’s a blatantly evil corporate villain in a kid’s movie about the environment. Of course he gets defeated and everyone turns on him. What’s especially funny though is that, on the brink of learning his lesson, he rejects any form of redemption and just goes whole hog on being a villain.

Best Scene: I will absolutely give him this: in the face of his ultimate defeat, after having the virtues of trees sung to him and the entire town turning on him, he for a moment contemplates turning over a new leaf… and then absolutely rejects the thought and instead decides being evil is just too much fun, at which point he tries to get everyone back on his side by seeing a funny little song about death while wavedashing. If more shitty villains did this, I don’t think there would be shitty villains.

Best Quote: LET IT DIE, LET IT DIE, LET IT SHRIVEL UP AND DIE! Yes I’m quoting a song again.

Final Thoughts & Score: Look, I’m not gonna mine words here: O’Hare sucks. Big time. He is a prime example of why The Lorax failed as an adaptation. In a story that is dealing with a moral grayness with no easy answers, O’Hare is just a big, blatant target, a dark shade of black in terms of black-and-white morality. He’s like a reject Captain Planet villain with Edna Mode’s haircut.

The movie would have been infinitely better if, instead of him, the Once-ler’s family were in control of the town, and they needed to learn the lesson about saving the trees instead of simply vanishing from the story. They were shown to be overbearing, manipulative, and greedy, and they had a much more personal connection with Once-ler being, you know, his actual family. The fact they abandon him and never really get any sort of comeuppance despite being perhaps the most evil people in the move, egging on Once-ler and taking full advantage of him, makes O’Hare all the more egregious, because there could have been some strong thematic elements that would have tied the film together and made it come off as much less preachy and more nuanced.

But we don’t live in a world where that happened, we live in a world where we got O’Hare. Aside from some genuine hilarity from him at the end, O’Hare really adds very little to the film. I gotta give him a 2/10, but I will say he’s a lot closer to a 3 than he is to a 1; there’s no denying his absolute rejection of learning a moral is absolutely hilarious. I love when villains do that. It’s just a shame those funny moments are wrapped up in something monumentally unimpressive.

#Psycho Analysis #The Once-ler #The Lorax #Ed Helms #Aloysius O'Hare #Rob Riggle

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

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Alliance

Chapter 1 – The Bounty

Summary: The child has fallen into the arms of the infamous Black Sun crime organization. In order to get him back they offer the Mandalorian a trade, one life for another.

Authors notes/warning: Heres the first part hope you all enjoy it! Let me know if you want to be tagged! Also there one weirdly large space inbetween two paragraphs I blame the app. TW: blood, swearing, humans being sold

Tagged list: @crazycookiecrumbles

Word count: 4.0K

Galactic Core, Coruscant

Mandos POV

The Mandalorian walks quickly along the pavement of the galaxy’s capital planet moving between the diverse cast of races skirting in and out the doors of the skyscrapers lining the streets. He’s in a hurry, he’s not here for business or pleasure. He is here for the only thing that matters, the child. He had been taken by the Black Sun crime syndicate. If he wasn’t so concerned for the child’s well-being, he’d be embarrassed at having lost him to a band of mercenaries and gangsters. He enters into the underground bunker pushing open the doors, knocking out a guard in the process.

“Where is he?” the modulated voice reverberates through the empty hall.

“Petulance will get you nowhere Mando.” A sharp voice fills the air as a woman appears from a nearby hallway, she’s tall, slender, green, almost reptilian in appearance . Her dark black hair was fashioned into a high ponytail. It was Savan, the niece of the recently deceased Prince Xizor and the leader of the Black Sun crime organization.

“Where is he” the Mandalorian asks again, this time hovering his hand over his blaster.

“Let’s try this again,” the voice says “keeping in mind you hold no cards here.”

“What do you want Savan?” He asks.

“ A simple favour really and knowing your reputation I believe an agreement between the two of us can be reached.” She walks down towards him, black nails gently dragging along his armour as she circles behind him. “In layman’s terms, you do something for me and I will do something for you.” Her hand stops on his chest plate.

“Armours not for sale” He states flatly. She tuts.

“I would never ask a Mandalorian to break his creed. No I speak of your ability as a bounty hunter. I know you do not work for free, but I believe you will make an exception for such precious cargo” she says summoning the egg, revealing the child “I assume we have a deal.”

“Let me speak with him then yes.”

“Any move out of line, even one step, the child dies. You understand?” He nods and heads over to the bassinette.

“Hey kid, I’ll be back for you soon, don’t give them too much trouble” he says, lovingly stroking the kids head ”What do you need?” he asks standing up.

“Money, unfortunately credits are far and few between since Xizor's death. I have heard whispers of an asset that I believe will sell for a high price on the black market, putting the Black Sun back on top. A witch of Vryssa. I am assuming you can link her location from the name. The planet is located in the outer rim territories, Dalicron sector, the coordinates are K-19. If you are not back within five days I will assume you have failed.”

“I won’t” he deadpans.

“Many have said the same thing yet here we are. Whoever this so called witch is, she is dangerous”

“Must be a valuable asset, to expend so many men.”

“You have no idea,” Savan says. “Now go, five days Mandalorian, or the child’s future will fall into my hands.”

He exits the Black Suns headquarters. If this witch was as dangerous as Savan was to have him believe then he’d be grateful for another set of hands.

Landing on Navarro, he makes his way over to the bar, hoping to find who he’s looking for. He enters into a crowd cheering on what appears to be a drinking contest, placing a gold bar on the counter and pushing it towards the two contestants, “Moneys on the soldier.” Slamming down an empty glass, Cara Dune wipes her mouth and exclaims “Mando! What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Looking for some help on a job.” He retorts.

“Well you came to the right place. How can I be of assistance.” He explains the situation and the two make their way to the Razor Crest. “You know the bounty hunter Fett, heard he went to Vryssa, took out a whole city to get someone. Heard him talk about buldobeasts, some kind of invisible creature that could rip you limb from limb” she says with a wicked smile.

“This your way of asking me how much the job pays?”

“Maybe” she says sitting down in the seat next to him.

“Nothing, not for me, got some credits with your name on them though, if we're successful.”

“Please Mando, when have we ever failed?” She laughs “You think it’s really a witch” she ponders.

“I don’t even know what a witch is.” he says, landing the ship.

Outer rim, Vryssa

“Well must be nice” Cara says, exiting the ship and looking around.

“What?” He asks, dropping down from the ship's belly.

“Not having the worst ship in the lot.” She laughs, the visor turns to her offering an undeniable look of annoyance. She’s right, but he’d never admit it. The ship stands out amongst the low brow technology of the planet. An outcrop, barely touched by the hand of the empire or the republic, nothing more than a refueling station. A good place to hide he thinks. They enter a run-down inn, Cara taps on the front desk getting the keeper's attention “We're looking for a girl.”

“Not that kind of establishment. Try down the road.” The Mandalorian grabs the guy by the collar, usually he’d be more diplomatic, but this was a time sensitive job.

“He doesn’t like to ask twice,” Cara says, “a woman, a so-called witch, ring any bells.”

“Ay she’s a myth nothing more than a rumour to scare children away from the woods. There’s no magic here.” Dropping the guy on his feet and brushing him off the Mandalorian exits the bar with Cara behind him in search of the woods.

“It’s a whole forested planet, you should have asked the guy which woods he meant.” Cara exclaims in frustration. Before the Mandalorian can respond a small figure belonging to a Gree woman appears.

“I know of whom you seek. My name’s Miwa and I'll tell ya where to find your witch, for a price.”

“The price is your life” He says, hand reaching to his blaster.

“Fair enough,” she says, slightly disappointed, but seemingly unsurprised, “Old woman landed, maybe 25 years ago, didn’t say a word. She had a baby, wandered off into the forest, never seen again. Some people claim to hear her in the woods messing with their heads, least they get too close. Others say she turned into a buldobeast preying on any who enter the woods without her permission. I’ve heard claims that she sacrificed the child in order to gain eternal youth, think that’s why we keep seeing you lot show up. They think her blood can elongate life.”

“Where’s the last place she was seen?” Mando asks, not interested in fables and myths. The Gree gesture for them to follow her, she leads them to a small pathway. “This is where they go in, she must be worth a fortune, for the trouble she’s worth.” Miwa says as Cara and Mando enter the woods. With each step the path seems to shrink and the trees seemingly get taller, the two moons offering little in ways of light.

“You believe in folk tales Mando?” Cara ask, he gives her a look of disbelief

“Hey don’t judge I didn’t until we got in here” she says. He pauses, pulling out his scope, in the distance he sees a small stone cabin, seemingly empty. The perimeters littered with armour, and what he can only assume are the remains of the bounty hunters it once belonged to. He offers it to Cara and she looks through it. “Shit” she mutters

“Hopefully, she won’t be expecting two of us” he replies.

Your POV

You stride through the forest weaving between the large conifers. They stretch high, blocking out the light emitted from the twin moons, they’re old, as old as the planet itself. You’re in pursuit of your next meal, a juvenile Acalay that you’ve been tracking for miles. The large crustaceans were introduced to the forests when an incompetent smuggler forgot to lock their gate while refueling in a time before the empire. They have roamed the forests ever since, but they have become far and few between in recent years, due in part to their popularity in gladiatorial battles. For an untrained hunter their size would be intimidating, but your grandmother had taught you the way long ago, so for you its size indicated months worth of food. Silence was key, one wrong move, one misstep, one branch cracking, and one of its six claws would snap you in half like the twig that gave you away. You had taken out larger ones at a younger age. Yes, your grandmother had taught you how to hunt, how to track, how to feel the earth around you

She had also taught you about your mother, who died saving you and your father executed for not revealing your whereabouts. As a child she would tell you that you were one of the galaxy's best kept secrets. Quickly, you realized you were not like the other children and as you continued to grow the puzzle of your past was slowly pieced together. She would tell you stories of the old war, and how it came to be. How your mother fought against a cult in order to maintain a balance in the universe. With each new revelation you became increasingly aware that your existence was to be kept hidden. On your eightieth birthday your grandmother explained how your mother was a jedi and that you shared her gift, an ability to use the force. That’s why you were here on this planet, for safekeeping. She told you she had been training you in the ways of the jedi, as she had trained your mother, and that she would continue to do so until her time came. So you lived alone, here amongst the trees. Well, not completely alone, a small vulptice kept you company. It was adapted to a forest environment with a body of roots, a belly covered in deep green moss and grass growing over top. Every spring it would bloom flowers of brilliant colours. You had named it Anya and it had been your companion, and closest friend over the years. The mysticism of your grandmother's arrival had sparked rumors, ones that stretched far and wide. The locals had labelled her a witch, and you had become a legend of sorts. These rumors brought outsiders, with their flashy weapons and armour hard as steel. Since your grandmother's passing it had only gotten worse. Fortunately, you were an able fighter, primed to win even when up against advanced weaponry. Those who had doubted your abilities now littered the path to your house. A warning to those who would come sooner or later. You remember her words as you spot your target, “Breath child, put your focus on the tip of the arrow, listen to the breeze and it will guide you.” you lift the arrow stretching the sinew chord back until your thumb brushes against your nose. You're about to loose the arrow when the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Someone’s here. You rush back leaping through the branches, silently moving towards your home. You stop above the stone cottage, staring down you see a tall figure approaching. It moves towards the door, avoiding the helmets and bones of those who came before. Silently you float to the ground, taking aim you make your presence known “drop the blaster”. Your voice cuts through the silence and the figure turns around. A Mandalorian. Your grandmother had told you of the Mandalorian race, this would not be an easy task. Mandos POV Placing the blaster on the floor, he slowly turns around, where had she come from? He hadn’t heard anyone approaching, normally he was more in tune with his surroundings. He must be distracted. Slowly he turns around, prepared to face whatever awaits him, but as his gaze sets on you he’s taken aback. You weren't an old lady or a wicked creature, but a young woman. The light of the two moons revealed the features of your face unobscured by the brown cloak that was loosely wrapped around you. The light’s enough to make out a glimmer of purple in the eyes, a strand of white hair and faint purple markings etched along your cheek and brow bones. “Why are you here” you ask, voice level, emotionless. “Don’t even think about it.” you interject before he can answer your first question, or make a grab for a concealed weapon. “I see 15 points of entry for this arrow 4 of which will hit vital organs. The closest hospital worth any salt is a planet away. I don’t know what brought you here but you should leave. Now.” “I cant” he responds

“Then I’m sorry” you respond. Before you have time to loose the arrow, Cara appears from behind you knocking you in the back of the head with her blaster. You hit the floor, as you do Cara pulls back your hood revealing the rest of your face making sure you’re knocked out.

“Maybe she did sacrifice a kid for eternal life” Cara remarks, cuffing your hands and feet taking note of the ruin symbols tattooed on your wrists.

“ Probably the kid the old woman had with her when she landed.” He says lifting your body and throwing it over his shoulder with ease.

“Can probably get some credits for this, as well” she says, picking up the small fox-like creature that's appeared from behind a nearby bush. Placing it into a cage before heading back to the Razor Crest.

“She floated down from that tree, that’s how she snuck up on you. I’m not crazy Mando, it’s not the woods I know what I saw.” Cara says as he dials up the ship.

“Didn’t say anything.” he says as he jumps the ship into hyperspace.

“The look was enough. What do you think will happen to her if her blood isn’t actually life elongating?” she asks.

“Not our problem.” He says

Your POV

You open your eyes blinking slowly so as to adjust to the fluorescent lighting coming from what you can only assume is the ship belonging to the bounty hunters who had nabbed you. Your first thought goes to Anya, and when you see her asleep in a nearby cage you breathe a sigh of relief. You shake your head, unable to believe after years of dodging bounty hunters one had caught you. It was your own fault, should have expected two.

“Bastards” you mutter, using the force you slip your cuffs you reach over and hack open the restraints of your feet. You reach into the cage and pet Anya, best she stays asleep for now, until you could figure a way out of this mess. You open up the armoury, seeing that your weapons had also been taken in the ambush “Assholes” you say. You’re about to reach in when you feel a presence behind you. Turing around you clang into the Mandalorians heavily armoured chest.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be.” the modulated voice coming from the helmet says, as he somehow manages to re-bind your hands and close the armoury all at once. You offer him a swift kick to the shin, but end up hurting yourself instead.

“Fucking beskar” you murmur. “At least tell me who you're taking me to, it’d be nice to know who's putting this much effort into meeting me.” No response. He decides to bring you up to the cockpit to keep an eye on you.

”You must be the muscle that hit me on the head” you say to the statuesque woman sitting in the front seat shining a weapon.

“Sorry about that, just part of the job, Cara Dune.” She says offering you her hand and a smile. You lift up your arms motioning to the cuffs constraining you. Slowly she retracts her hands offering you a nod instead.

“How long do we have?” He asks.

“Just over two days, we'll have the kid back soon enough.” Cara says.

“Look please you don’t have to do this, I haven’t committed any crimes.” you say causing Cara to laugh

“What about the bodies in your yard.” She says.

“They were offered a choice to leave. Anything I did, I did to defend myself” You respond defensively.

Cara smiles, “Well I’m going to rest. Good luck with this.” She says gesturing to you before exiting the cockpit. You shuffle into her seat trying to get the guy in the armour to talk to you.

“Hey, ya Hi. What are they paying you? I'll double it. I’m good for it. Promise”

“Not paying me, it’s a trade.” He says

“For your kid, I can help you get him back”

“This isn’t a negotiation, now stop talking or I’ll bring you in cold.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you say leaning back defeatedly into the chair. “At least tell me what I’m getting myself into who found out?” you ask, nervous that someone had figured out that you were force sensitive. This gets a reaction, the T of the helmet finally turning to face you.

“You don’t know do you?” you say relieved, maybe you’d be fine after all.

“Don’t know what.” Now it was your turn to be silent.

Core Galaxy, Coruscant

You arrive on Coruscant, the noise of the city, and metallic buildings have you completely out of your element, there’s no using the force here, not in such public domain. Under the circumstances you weren’t even sure if you could. You’re led into a building by the Mandalorian, with Cara walking behind holding Anya in her cage. They stop in front of an oblong table and a tall, elegant woman appears from a nearby hallway, the likes of which you’ve never seen. She smiles as she approaches you with a knife. “and with a few hours to spare, excellent job.” She says.

“ The child” he says, you can feel the stress coming off of him, you’re sure she can as well.

“All things come...” she pauses “to those who wait” she finishes, as she cuts into your arm with the knife catching the light purple liquid in a small vial before handing it over to a Klatooinian, dressed all in black.

“Who are you?” you ask

“I hear your blood extends life is that true” She says, blatantly ignoring your question.

“You’re a woman of high intelligence, why don’t you tell me yourself.”

She smiles, “I figured as much.” The Klatooinian re-enters with the blood shaking his head no before exiting the room again

“Unfortunate, I had hoped you would be of use to us.” The stress of the Mandalorian has now changed to panic. “Do not worry Mandalorian the child will be returned to you. You have completed your task”

“Am I free to go then?” you ask hopefully, she pauses for a while staring at you.

“No, just because we know the truth does not mean the rest of the galaxy needs to” she approaches you again taking your cheeks in her hand moving your head around “with a confirmation of authenticity from myself you could sell for thousands of credits. Maybe even more considering your appearance, I suggest the two of you stay for the auction once she is sold then I will return the child to you. As a gesture of good faith, I will not separate you from your pet.” She pauses.

“You waiting for a thank you or something?” you ask as the Klatooinian takes your restraints from the Mandalorian and leads you away.

Mandos POV

The next morning he and Cara make their way into a large auction room packed full of buyers and sellers from around the galaxy, looking to deal in illegal goods.

“Good to know the black market is still thriving” Cara mutters. They spot Savan and make their way towards her, stopping just below the stage she's standing on.

“Thank you all for joining us today, the doors are now closed and will remain as such until the auction is completed. As the hosts, we will have the last billed item. Thank you and good luck.” She steps down towards the duo, as the auctioneer begins the bidding. She opens up the egg returning the small green child to the Mandalorian. Upon seeing his adoptive parent the child begins to coo happily. The Mandalorian picks the kid up cradling him in his left arm as they watch the auction play out. After a few hours, the call for the last item arrives and Savan makes her way up onto the stage once again.

“On behalf of the Black Sun we bring to you a rare and beautiful specimen from the outer rim. Her blood is said to elongate life, a fact which we have found to be true. A strong fighter and a great beauty she would do well anywhere from the gladiator rings to the halls of any prestigious bath house. Her blood will sell for thousands a jar. She is a gift from us to you all. Shall we start the bidding at 5 thousand credits.” After a heated bidding war you sell for the count of 200 thousand credits, to a trainer from a gladiatorial sect. He takes the chains from Savan “you’re going to be good for business.” he says smiling at you, much to your disgust. He begins to lead you away when Anya makes her appearance out from behind your cloak. You try to coax her back into hiding, but she's too curious for her own good.

“I have no need for this.” he says, kicking at her, she dodges the foot and bites down on his shin. In retaliation the trainer pulls out his blasters and shoots her dead causing you to drop to your knees. The child who had been watching you intently lets out a cry looking up to the Mandalorian. He passes the child to Cara and begins to make his way towards you. “Get up” he hears the trainer say through gritted teeth. The crack of a whip echoes throughout the hall and he sees you fall to the ground before being forced back up, walking you over to the ship. He makes it to you managing to grab one of your wrists. Using all your remaining strength you turn around and spit in his face, what he saw in your eyes wasn’t fear, but rage. “Hey buddy, keep your hands off the merchandise” the trainer says and with one last tug he pulls you away. The bleeding wounds on your calves are the last thing he sees as you disappear into the hangar. He wipes the spit off his helmet as Cara catches up to him, placing the child back into his arms. “Well that went well”. She says

The child begins to fuss, “What?” He asks it gently. The child’s tiny green hand points over to the carcass of the vulptice on the floor. “No,” he says, wagging his finger, not wanting a dead carcass stinking up his ship. The child keeps fussing and unable to deny him he places him on the floor and the kid runs over to the thing. His eyes close “No, don’t” the Mandalorian starts, but it’s too late the child falls over batting his eyelids sleepily as the fox slowly stands up. It makes its way over to the child

“Get away from him” He shouts protectively, but to his surprise the fox licks the child's face, making it giggle. “Great, now they’ve bonded” He says knowing he’d never be able to get rid of it now.

“Congrats on your ever growing family Mando” Cara responds slapping him on the back.

#alliance #the mandolarian #star wars #mando x you #mando x reader #din dijarin x you #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x reader #din dijarin x reader #chapter 1 #the Bounty

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years

Text

i.changkyun / reader

genre: yandere!changkyun, librarian!reader (sex worker!changkyun)

warning(s)!!!: clubbing, mentions of sex/sex work, obsessive behavior, stalking, ‘love at first sight’ but messed up, masturbation (male), implied violence/murder, manipulation, changkyun plays the nice guy role but isn’t, changkyun is also pretty messed up (oops), y/n is oblivious to an astounding degree, implied drugging, chains/collars, confinement, kidnapping

w.count: 12.3k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble [Rated: M]

synopsis: im changkyun is a prime sex worker at a local club. nothing gets his pride swelling more than any poser off the street willing to come into his club and pin bills between the elastic of his fishnets and skin. what he finds more exhilarating than any show, pole climb or heated one-night stand, however; is the one sober woman sitting among her group of wasted friends in a velvet, vip booth. he’ll do anything to know everything about her; putting on a friendly smile was only the first step.

a/n: you can blame DAZED for this mess (hi, just in case you need a reminder, this is purely fiction and not at all who changkyun rly is as a person. nothing about this is okay in irl)

This was nothing new. This was just the way his life always played out. An exhilarating erotic number on a stage with a pole, fishnets and teasing personality followed by the highest bidder to continue his line of work in a more secluded section of the club.

Fantasia Dyed may have been a newer club against its competitors that have been around for years, but the workers and staff inside raised the bar previously set. While clubs can be shady to begin with, what with the use of alcohol at every turn, murmurs of drugs, and agreements to met up for a quick money job- Fantasia Dyed had a reputation of the best line of sex workers you could get your dirty hands on. If you had the money, that was.

Im Changkyun was the front man of that line up. Wanted by men, women and anyone in between- if you had the cash he demanded for his services, he was yours for the night. He had no qualm so long as you paid and used the protection he required to keep your own STIs to your damn self. He really wasn’t picky, and he never stopped to ask himself as to why.

So, this- crawling out of some random woman’s creaky, box spring bed and pulling on the clothes he had lost earlier- was nothing new. He looked over his shoulder as he ran his black painted fingers through his blond hair.

The woman was passed out, a fuzzy, brown blanket covering her body as Changkyun turned away from her. Throwing his shirt back on, flinging his jacket over his shoulders and thrusting his arms through the sleeves, he shimmied on his black skinnies and boots. Grabbing his abandoned black, clutch bag from the stranger's couch he unclasped it to look at the envelope of bills he had received just hours earlier from his ‘client’.

Throwing himself on the couch, he crossed his legs and counted the bills, smirking when he was adamant he was paid in full- with even a small service tip he assumed- to cover over his asking price for the night. Satisfied, he got up and left that small apartment he had stumbled into.

It was only when he entered his own home- the top floor penthouse of some wealthy building- did he wonder just for the briefest of moments if he was truly satisfied.

-x-x-x-

“Y/n, if you don't come with me to Fantasia like you promised you would 2 years ago when it opened now that I finally have the money and the chance for my birthday, you’re being grounded.”

You, who was busy replacing books that you had been wheeling around on your return cart back on the shelf, had the lovely company of your best friend sitting behind you at a library table as you worked. She’d been going on and on about her birthday plans and while you were happy she was excited about them, she was adamant on adding you to the attendee list.

Maybe it was cliche, but the oh-so-thrilling life you lived as a librarian of your local public library painted a rather ‘stay at home’ picture of you; and that is exactly how you wanted it. The whole reason you took this job opportunity was because the head librarian noticed you come in every other Wednesday for a new list of to-reads to rent and offered a position after she got to know you a bit better.

Had you had the choice, you’d stay cooped up in your house with a good book, a nice warm drink, a rainy day and peace and quiet for the rest of your life. But, of course, that was a fantasy. Your social life was barely breathing, with Halie-the insistent best friend behind you- being the center of your social solar system.

You were a prime recluse, you didn’t even keep in touch with your parents as often as you should since they were so utterly upset you were throwing so much ‘potential’ away when you decided to be a librarian instead of going into some out of this world career field.

You had Halie and Halie had connections with just about everyone ever. She was easy to adapt to personalities and was generally kind to anyone she meets unless they’re rude first. She was a prime example of a modern ‘dream girl’ that people had. Though, she was still your friend no matter who she is with anyone else.

Was that naive of you?

“Y/n, I’m telling you, you’ve gotta cooooome,” she whined. Sitting backward in her chair, leaning back and pulling on the back of the chair. You sighed, pushing a spine of a book into its rightful you had just mapped out. “Please,” she begged in a pathetically, high pitched voice.

“If I go, will you stop whining?” You asked with your back still towards her, but you could practically see the smile on her face with the small, over-dramatic gasp she let out. You almost immediately regretted your choice, and wished you could take it back. You knew Halie wouldn’t let it happen though. You’ve spoken and now her selective hearing will kick on and she wouldn’t hear you even if you changed your mind.

“So, you’re going?!” She screeched as you turned around and shushed her. She was in a library. With a few more accepting statements from you solidifying your attendance to her birthday, she left happily as you finished stocking your shelves in dread before sitting behind your check-out counter with the same dread- only 10x stronger.

You watched the time tick by on the computer screen at work, the watch around your wrist on the way home, the hanging clock on your living room wall and the alarm you set on your phone for 9 pm when you were set to get ready. Time passed far too fast for your liking- you couldn’t even squeeze in a nap to help the nerves.

Before you knew it, you were walking out of your home, locking the door behind you with the only acceptable club outfit you could think of as you made your way to Fantasia Dyed, texting Halie that you were dreadfully on the way.

-x-x-x-

“Hey, Kyun! Take ten, dude!” Changkyun, who had just stepped down off of the high perched stage covered in sweat ruffled his blond hair that clung to his forehead in strands. He nodded as he grabbed his bottle of water, slouching in a nearby domed-stool.

One of his ankle high, black platform boots propped up on the stool’s ring with the other on the ground. The white tank top he had personally cut off to end at his rib cage and expose his stomach drenched in spots of sweat. Black skinnies clinging to his toned legs and his fishnets showing loud and proud through the open knees of his jeans and wrapping around the perfection of his waist. Having left his faux fur coat in the employee lounge for the night.

His dark eyes scanned the floor level he was currently occupying the best he could from his seat at the juice bar- for the lameizoids who wanted something non-alcoholic at his club. He glanced at the wristwatch strapped onto the inside of his wrist and checked the time. It was only just past 10 as he smirked.

The night was still young.

From not too far off in a different area than he was, he heard a small commotion starting to murmur. From the looks of what he could see over his sips of water and his bangs hanging in his eyes as he flipped them annoyingly out of his way over and over, it may have been someone’s birthday. Guest after guest going into the same area with the same woman in stockings and a cocktail dress hugging and greeting them.

A VIP birthday reservation; that did ring a small bell somewhere in the overbooked mind of the club worker. Perhaps it would pay off if he did some of his work within their sights. Birthday crowds almost always paid off in terms of after work lip service and bonus pay.

Stepping his foot off the lower ring of the stool he had been comfortably sitting on, he stood as he set his bottle on the juice bar. The tender at the particular unpopular drink selection area took it and tucked it away under the bar where Changkyun always asked him to put it so no one tried to get creative with it.

Walking around the venue area, he strutted by the lower ground VIP booth surrounded by thick, velvet ropes. Whoever this birthday diva was, she sure went all out to keep her and her group uninterrupted. A lower level 10 person booth, a table full of booze and a secure perimeter to keep outsiders rightfully out of her hair. Just from the set up, she must’ve been some spoiled princess.

However, what really caught his gaze was one particular woman. A woman dressed in a tank top, a cheap looking fake leather jacket and dark jeans. Perhaps not ideal for Fantasia’s club etiquette and whatever she was sipping on in her clear glass certainly didn’t seem like any alcoholic beverage to his trained eye. His pierced brow ticked up as he walked fully by and the table of rambunctious party-goers left his sight around the wall.

“Must be a prude,” he murmured but somehow, he almost felt guilty when the words left his mouth. He couldn’t fathom at all why. It stalled him physically as he stopped in his tracks for just a moment before strutting further away from the booth to scope out a good area to work his magic.

The moment midnight hit Changkyun was being flagged over by the absolutely smashed table he had passed earlier that night. The VIP birthday booth had confidently called him over. As he moseyed his way over, with a few of his coworkers already there to entertain the group, he was greeted by some drunken man hanging off his shoulder.

Among the group of drunk or passed out party goers, there was the same woman from earlier who still seemed completely sober. Changkyun raised his eyebrow as he shook the man on his shoulder off as he stumbled around and clung to the next nearest bod. He walked over to your side and sat himself down beside you on the velvet booth.

Crossing his legs, he watched you flinch when he plopped himself down, his elbows rising to rest on the back of the booth, his hand hovering close to your face. He sure made himself comfortable. He had to admit though, as you sipped on yet another refill of something nonalcoholic, you were pretty easy going on the eyes.

“You sure don’t seem like you’re having any fun, lady,” he chided as he lifted one arm off the back of the booth to push his hair back out of his eyes for only the millionth time that evening. He heard you nervously chuckle beside him and something about the sound of it stirred pleasantly in his chest.

“Well, this isn’t exactly my scene,” you told him. Your voice was soft like Christmas bells, but it erupted in his ears, making the background of sounds and voices and bass all drown out. He was solely focused on your lips and the sound they produced when you spoke he couldn’t hear anything else.

“Not your scene, but here you sit in mine,” he teased as he smirked at you. You tapped the side of your glass that had become a slipping hazard from it’s condensation. Changkyun looked at the friends around you who seemed to be having the time of their young lives. “You’re friends seem to be enjoying themselves.”

“Well, they go out a lot. I really don’t like these kinds of places,” you told him before you looked at him with a slightly apologetic smile. “No offense.”

“Club scenes aren’t for everyone, I understand that. If you hate it so much, why did you come here?” He asked as you sighed, dipping your chin. He felt a small spark of panic rise in his throat as he saw you suddenly even more forlorn than you have been. Did he put that look on your face by asking your dumb questions?

He mentally halted himself, once again wondering why it affected him so much what you did and did not like or how you acted.

“It’s my best friend’s birthday so she pretty much begged me to come with her tonight,” you lifted your head and looked over to where she was, downing yet another shot. You’d have to remember to book a cab for her to go home- if she doesn’t go home with the staff member she keeps clinging to. “I probably won’t stay much longer since she pretty much forgot I’m even here,” you pouted.

Changkyun’s eyes swelled at the precious pout to your lips as you whined about being forgotten because you were sober and weren’t partying like an animal. What was wrong with him?

“Do you like coffee?” He suddenly blurted out. He couldn’t stop the words from forcing their way out of his mouth before his brain could functionally filter them or even stop them. He gulped when you turned to look at him in the eyes for the first time that night. Maybe it was the neon lights in the club or maybe it was the dim atmosphere that made them so enticing to gaze into, but he was locked in your gaze- unable to break away from you. His jaw nearly dropped open as he explored the color of them surrounded by the club's aura.

“Coffee?” You asked in clarification. He just clamped his teeth together before nodding once. “Well, I’m not the biggest coffee fan in the world, but I like teas’ and I can handle a frappe if I’m in the mood for it.”

“I get off at three,” he told you as he desperately tried to keep eye contact. “If you find the stomach to hang around another three hours, we can get some?” He pitched as his voice that was normally always confident- as it should be for his line of grade-a work- shook just slightly with the booming club bass.

Your eyes shifted when he put the offer out there, and he started to internally panic. Would you say no? Would you politely decline him and try and carry on like he never said a word? Or would you turn him down and leave? Then, it hit him. You were in a club; a club popular for sex work and Changkyun happened to lead that gaggle of workers. It’s pretty damn obvious you were assuming he had some ulterior motive. For once, he didn’t.

He dropped his elbow from the back of the booth as he turned towards you slightly, scooting forward to the edge of the booth seat.

“I don’t mean to hook up or anything,” he clarified, “I just want to get to you know, so I wanted to get coffee at an ungodly hour.” The hands he waved around to try and help convince you quickly settled onto his jean torn, and fishnet covered lap. “If you want to.”

You sat and considered his offer. It was Saturday, and the library was closed on Sundays so you could technically afford to be out later than you typically would. And a late night chat with someone other than your wasted party of friends did sound tempting. He seemed kind enough, even with his get up and the flashes of a performance you had glimpsed earlier with him on the lifted stage and poles. You should never judge a book by it’s cover, just because he seemed like someone who slept around all the time, didn’t mean he was a bad guy, right?

You smiled at him and his breath left him in one fell swoop. It was like your smile materialized into a pro-boxer and just gut punched him. And he loved it.

“A three am frappe sounds great,” you told him. He smiled back wider than he knew he could. He thanked you before he excused himself to go back to work. However, before he went back to the floor, he practically sprinted into the single employee bathroom and locked himself inside.

He slammed his back against the door as his knees wobbled and he grew weaker. His breath was staggered as his chest heaved in unsteady shudders. His fingertips shook and he had shivers running up his back from the memory of your eyes and that smile. He started chuckling to himself in the empty bathroom as he felt his cheeks flush.

God he felt so euphoric in the moment, it was practically erotic. Whatever was wrong with him, he started questioning if it was really wrong if it made him feel so good.

-x-x-x-

It was ten till three in the morning when Changkyun did one last check to make sure you hadn’t left yet. Almost your whole party was passed out, had gone home by cab or with someone else at this point. The club was nearly ready to shut down for the night as they started to chase people out. You saw him peek around into the VIP booth area as you smiled and waved to him reassuringly. That same tightness coiled in his chest as he rushed to the employee locker room.

A fellow pole dancer who was peeling off his skintight, laced finger-less gloves perked an eyebrow up at the rushing blond. He hadn’t seen the worker so eager to get out of there before.

“Some kind of big surprise waiting for you outside those doors or something, hot stuff?” He asked. Changkyun shook his head, too busy searching for his clutch behind his fur coat so he could meet up with you. Yanking on the furry sleeves that felt almost too warm all of a sudden, he snatched the no longer hidden clutch from his locker shelf and slammed it shut.

“Something better,” he breathed in promise to himself more than his coworker as he jogged out, his long coat bouncing off the back of his knees. He came out of the room, seeing you standing and in the company of a different worker who was still relatively new to Fantasia Dyed. A rookie at best and his eyes hardened as the man spoke to you.

Leaning far too close to you, breathing too close to you and smiling far too seductively at you. He was clearly looking for a bed to crash in, but Changkyun hated it. Loathed it even as he felt his lips pull back in a grimace mimicking a defensive mutt. He stomped towards you and inserted himself between the nuisance and yourself.

Pushing his palms against the worker’s chest, he harshly shoved him backwards and took a few steps back himself towards you. He felt like he was on fire, feeling you standing directly behind him. He thought he could feel your warmth radiating onto his back like sun rays and it almost made him sweat. He felt torn between feeling ecstatic that you were so close to him or completely pissed off at the man who stood shell shocked after being pushed away.

“She’s taken already,” Changkyun growled. He shocked even himself with his tone, something coiling further and beating in his chest so violently he swore he felt his chest jerk forward with each beat of his heart.

The coworker raised his hands. “Chill out, man. ‘Didn’t know she was yours.” Something ignited the coil in Changkyun’s chest and sent sparks in his mind at the man's words. His? Yes… that sounds exactly right.

It sounded blissfully perfect as the man walked off and the blond turned around to see you and properly escort you out of Fantasia Dyed. He watched your back as you left in front of him- ladies first- and he let a grin crawl across his face. Unaware of how his eyes looked as they burned into the silhouette of your body.

His.

Changkyun led you out of the club, but neither of you expected it to be raining at three o’clock in the morning. You gasped as you instinctively brought your hands up above your head. You were wearing makeup and if it got wet, it was all over. Changkyun was quick to rip the coat from his shoulders and sling it around you. It had no hood, but he placed the collar of it above your head as you grabbed the edges of it to pull it around your body.

He nearly gasped when his finger brushed your hand, handing off his coat before he was pulling his keys from his clutch and pushing buttons to unlock his car that was parked just around the corner on the side of the building. He reached around your shoulder and started directing you in the rain.

It was only when he sat you in his car, nice and dry, when he ran to get into the drivers sid, slam the door shut, start the car and crank the heat to get rid of the wet shivers you had due to the rain, did he realize he had just touched you again. Although his coat was under his arm, so were you as you ran through the rain. He had to contain yet another delightful shiver.

You shimmied the coat off your head to around your shoulders before you pulled it out from behind you and placed it on your lap as you pulled the seatbelt across your chest. You looked at Changkyun who was already looking at you, but flinched and started fidgeting with his wheel and knobs for the radio in his car to distract himself.

“I didn’t realize there was rain in the forecast this morning. I wouldn’ve have brought an umbrella.” You briefly blessed the idea that Changkyun asked you out because you had taken the bus and walked the rest of the trip to Fantasia, so getting home would have been a long walk considering the buses don’t run at three freakin’ am.

Changkyun cleared his throat, whipping his blond, wet bangs out of his face and onto the top of his head, clearing his forehead as he shifted out of park.

“So,” he started, “where do you want to go?” You tossed ideas around in your head and it was so early, hardly any place would be open except the occasional fast food place or gas station. Offering him the choice between an open, probably dead lobby for some fast food or grabbing a drink and hanging in the car in the rain, he was driving off to the closest food location.

As nice as it sounded being secluded in a car with coffee and the sound of rain, he wouldn't be able to look you in the eyes as you spoke as well.

Changkyun took you to the place he would often stop for some after work food before going home or meeting up with someone. Because he knew the manager so well (and because the manager was always in store by three to start preparing for the staff to come in at six) Changkyun was allowed an early entrance.

Even though you offered to get your own drink, Changkyun wasn’t allowing you to pay for anything since it was him who asked you out. Besides, it wasn’t exactly expensive to buy some caffeinated drinks- especially since he got a special discount too. The manager who always got him his food or drinks ready at this hour was shocked to see him with company this time around.

Time seemed to become truly nonexistent to Changkyun as soon as the both of you sat down at a back corner table- away from anyone's eyes from outside as to not cause the manager grief if someone should come demanding entrance because Changkyun was inside. You both talked about anything and everything he could think to ask you to get to know you better.

He learned that you were a librarian and that you didn’t go to school- forgetting about any further education after high school because you weren’t sure what you really wanted to do with your life. He found out bits and pieces about your family situations- gathering that you weren’t close and that you had no siblings to speak of. Your friends were small in number and that you weren’t really close to anyone aside from Halie- the proffered birthday girl at the club.

He mentally thanked Halie for begging you to come to the club, considering if you hadn’t Changkyun would have never laid eyes on you.

In turn, he shared what he could in return for your stories. He had been working in the sex world for a few years now, quickly and unfortunately getting roped into it after a nasty breakup when he had just turned 21. When he realized just how desirable he could be, he started working out and eating better to keep his physique so business kept rolling in for him. He was actually scouted by the assistant manager of Fantasia Dyed to work there- but it was the pay and benefits that really dragged him in. He didn’t dislike his career, so he had no reason to say no anyways.

At least with Fantasia Dyed, he had benefits to get himself into the doctor if one of his clients ever lied and gave him some gross sex disease- then of course he’d sue them into the ground for not following his work guidelines. He told you about why he pierced his eyebrow and even the stories behind the tattoos on his back.

Oddly enough, despite your absolute opposite backgrounds, you both spoke and got alone brilliantly. It was a balance of lifestyles and Changkyun basked in everything you had to say. You didn’t shun him or sneer at his life as a sex worker and maybe it was the lack of disgust and prejudiced that really flipped something in his head.

You did not judge him. You did not hate him. You laughed at whatever joke he pitched. You blushed at whatever lame pick up line he slid into conversation. You groaned playfully at his equally playful flirting. You were making him fall and he did- hook, line and heavy sinker.

He was absolutely, unbelievably head over heels for you and he felt like he was on fire.

You both talked and talked until you had noticed that the sky started to change color and the rain had stopped. The sun was rising and you were suddenly overly aware of how exhausted you really were. Changkyun saw you stifle a yawn and although it felt like his heartstrings were going to tear in his chest, he was quick to get up and offer you a ride home as the manager started to truly open the lobby for business as nearly all morning staff were present.

As you sat in the car with him, directing him on what roads to take to get to your home, he found himself memorizing every turn. When you told him to keep it slow and then pointed out your small little apartment duplex, he looked at every crevice his eyes could see from the car window. The neighborhood was somewhere small, but there was a small park just across the block so he expected it to be fairly busy during the day.

As he bid you farewell, and watched you get safely inside before driving away, he struggled to contain his breath. When he rolled into the apartment parking lot and up to his penthouse, he was quick to lock his door and lift his coat to his face.

It smelt different than usual. It had your shampoo’s scent embedded into its fake fur. It had the smell of your perfume and the smell of you inside of it. He fell asleep that morning until afternoon with his coat curled around him instead of a blanket. That feeling of euphoria chasing him until he finally fell asleep- only to have a set of specific dreams involving you in one of his reserved back rooms at Fantasia Dyed.

-x-x-x-

Over the course of the next week, Changkyun did his damnedest to keep his eyes on you at all times he possibly could. He’d wake up in the afternoon and find a way to enter the library you worked at and slip into a corner behind a bookshelf with a book to disguise his obvious staring of you. When you’d leave the desk to replace books, he’d move to avoid your eyes, when you’d help a guest with their books to check out, he’d growl when it was a man that you smiled at. When you got off work, he’d trial behind you just enough to stay unnoticed. He’d watch you get home every afternoon and one night he even put a small camera on one of the fake branches of your fake bush you hand sitting in a pot on your porch.

He’d sit in his car or in his penthouse and watch the feed on his phone if it buzzed with a notification of movement. If you were leaving, he’d jump into action to try and find out where you were going if it was an unusual time. He’d watch you go to the store to shop or into some food place for something to eat.

He’s even seen you meet up with Halie a few times and each time he did, he hated that wench more and more. That obviously spoiled princess wasn’t good enough to be around you, acting like a typical romance villain and obvious snake. You were smart, so he was curious as to why you trusted her so much. She was clearly brainwashing you and keeping you around as a tool.

Changkyun had a mental list of enemies and people he hated, and she was ranked number one among that list- along with all the men he saw speak or flirt with you. He wanted to get them away from you, throw them out of the picture and clean your mind of their filth.

During his work hours, and after even, he’d still get randoms to get into bed with him- but his mind would be filled with everything about you. The person underneath him would disappear and your face and body and voice would take hold in his brain like some sort of spell. He’d fuck into man or woman with such fervor he’d be getting calls from his manager that he was requested for service back to back.

He hit euphoria and erotic highs with you just in his mind, he nearly came undone when he thought how it would feel actually fucking you. He’d go home from work, from another sex session and he’d lay on his bed, on his couch, sit at his table or collapse in his doorway and wear himself thin with his hand at the thought of your touch instead of his or someone else.

He sat on the cold floor of his front door entrance, his leather, skintight pants unzipped and cock slipped through the hole in his boxers. His hand squeezed his length as his fingers rubbed and pinched and squeezed around the head and slit. It was so dry as his hand slid up and down painfully on his shaft. His hips bucked to meet his hands motions and his legs twitched in their perched, spread position. His stomach was tight as his opposite hand came to pinch and twist his nipples- his shirt discarded as he slid down the door upon his entry earlier.

It was so dry- it was hardly enjoyable- but it was painfully erotic. He couldn’t stop and the precum leaking from his cockhead wasn’t nearly enough for his hand to not pull on the delicate skin making him hiss. Taking his lip between his teeth and breathing so heavily he stuttered, he watched his hand abuse his cock.

The hand that played with his nipples shot down to hold his wrist as he finished himself off, cumming with the sound of your name spilling from his lips in lewd, breathless moans. He lay on the floor, slouched and exhausted as cum stuck, drying to his chest and pants.

He was so utterly, disgustingly, blissfully obsessed with you and he felt like he was losing his mind. His mind was filled to the brim with you, you, you. He spent every waking hour he could preparing. Yes, he had to make sure that everything would be perfect for when you’d finally come to him.

You deserved nothing short of perfection- and Changkyun would fuck anyone, get paid anything and obtain whatever it was you desired to make sure you got exactly that. However, it would take time- much to his dismay.

He knew he had to get ready before he could possibly have you. He started cleaning out a room he used as storage in his penthouse and got to work.

It was ten days after your three am date that Changkyun decided to play innocent and ‘bump’ into you at work one day. He was impatient and couldn’t wait any longer to speak to you again, to hear your voice directed at him again and not at someone else.

He entered the library confidently that day, dressed in blue jeans, low heeled boots and a tee that was stretched just a bit at the collar. His hair unstyled and glasses on his nose with his clutch under his arm. He didn’t want to go over the top in style, so he tried to match your neutral style of dress.

He took a moment to look at you before he took a breath and walked up to the desk, placing a fake smile of shock on his face when you looked up to see him. He nearly fell to his knees when he saw your eyes shine and your mouth split into a smile and wave at him. If he could, he would’ve ran the rest of the way to the desk instead of walked.

When he walked at the desk, he leaned and laid his arms in front of one another on the desktop, bending and crossing his ankles together and grinned at you.

“Well, fancy meeting you here, madam librarian,” he greeted, acting as if he hadn’t been here daily for the past week just to see you work.

“It’s been a little bit, it’s good to see you Changkyun,” you said and he felt himself shift sinfully. “I’d ask you why you’re here, but it’s a library, so,” you chuckled at yourself. Oh, how he missed the sound of that laugh. “Did you come looking for something specific?” You asked as he jut his lip out in thought.

“Not necessarily. I just felt like cracking open a book, and what better place to start looking? It's a pleasant surprise you work at this library. It’s close to where I live.” That was true, there were two other libraries in town and this one was the closest to him. You hummed at him. “Could you recommend something to me?” He grew giddy when you smiled widely and stood from your desk chair and started to walk around the desk, motioning for him to follow you.

As you asked him what he liked and disliked, leading him down the isles and scanning book after book, keeping small conversation he wished he could push you against a bookshelf and have his wicked way with you. He knew better, however; you needed to be taken care of in a specific set of ways and against a bookshelf wasn’t it- tempting as it may be.

“Here,” you told him as you spun around and placed a book in his hands. As he took it, he quirked a small, teasing smile as he looked at you as if you were playing a joke on him.

“Twilight? Really, Y/n?” In his hand sat the book that sprung up the cheesy, cliche and overall, not so great movies he watched with one of his old friends for gags one night in his teens- completely drunk he may add.

“Hey, don’t judge a book by it’s cover- or it’s movies. It’s better than you think.” You shoved the book closer to his chest. “Just give it a chance, please?” When you ask so adorably with your lip jutted out just enough for him to fantasize leaning down to bite into it with his teeth, he had no choice but to comply. He’d read this book cover to cover, backwards even had you asked. He’d do whatever you wished.

He spent the afternoon halfway reading at a table near the desk and halfway watching you work until your shift concluded. When you were packing up, he scrambled to get his clutch and mark the page he had to reread over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate and rushed up and over to your side.

“Are you finished for the day?” He asked although he already knew the answer. You nodded as he touched your arm, grabbing gently around your elbow. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked as he saw your cheeks grew in the most vibrant color of rose.

“I, uh,” you cleared your throat and rubbed the back of your neck with your free arm. “I’m not dressed for a date though,” you pouted. Changkyun licked his lips, desperate not to let you get away from him just yet.

“Then, tomorrow,” he pitched, “when you’re free tomorrow we can go out.” Tomorrow was Wednesday, and he knew that you always left work early on Wednesdays. He watched you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you licked your lips before rolling them over your teeth and then opening your mouth.

“I can do tomorrow,” you muttered, face fully flushed with redness flooding into the tips of your ears. He released your arm with a giant smile. He flicked his bangs out of his face as he felt his glasses slip just a bit further down his nose. He reached into his clutch as he dug out his phone and handed it to you with the new contact screen up.

“Let’s swap numbers then, and we can work out everything through the phone.” You didn’t hesitate to place your number into his phone before sending yourself a text with ‘it’s changkyun’ attached to the message. You promptly added him in your contacts as well. Offering you a ride home, which you took, he dropped you off and when he walked into his penthouse that afternoon he pumped his fist into the air. As well as stared at the palm in which held your arm earlier, gazing at it as if he had just touched the blessed body of a holy messiah.

As he sat in his living room on the couch, he felt himself harden in his sweats he wore before changing into his work attire. He had actually called in to take the night off since he had to be well rested for his date tomorrow. This hand had touched you, touched your skin. He was sure it would feel magnificent on his cock too.

-x-x-x-

Tomorrow didn’t come fast enough and Changkyun was bounding out of bed at the ass crack of dawn to figure out what he was going to wear. How would he style his hair? Would he fill all his ear piercings or change the stud in his eyebrow to a spike? Which shoes would he wear: sneakers, heeled boots, sandals? He couldn’t waste another second in bed, he had far too much to plan for the day to worry about sleeping any more.

He dove for his phone the moment he heard the specific notification he set for you. He talked to you a bit and you both decided on a time to meet up. Meeting up at noon for lunch and then he’d take you to a movie and then he’d walk around with you window shopping, talking about the movie you both saw and then he’d take you for dinner. That’s what he wanted to happen.

He showed up at the meeting place half an hour early. Wearing a black, white spotted button up tucked into a pair of black jeans with a thin, white belt around his waist, he adjusted the buttons at the cuffs of his sleeves. A simple, thin silver chain to show off his neck as his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show off his collar bones. The heels of his shoes clacked just enough on pavement or tile to let people know he was coming.

“Changkyun!” He heard from behind him. He raised himself off the bench had had been sitting cross-legged on, staring at his phone and debating on texting you. He quickly spotted you waving to him from among the crowd of people on the hunt for lunch before their work break ends.

His mouth nearly dropped when he saw you. Running up to him with the cutest, apparel on.

A summer dress of pale pink with small white dots that wrapped around your chest and fell loosely at the skirt to hit your thighs. The sleeves off shoulder and sheer all the way down your arm until it wrapped around your wrist in sheere frills. Black, thin straps to keep it all up. A pair of white sandals that wrapped around your foot and ankle with the smallest heel to keep you from twisting your ankle. Hair done in two little buns on either side of your head, but still kept some down with a black, stretchy choker around your neck.

The pink, circular satchel at your waist that hooked over your shoulder probably contained your phone, wallet and the pink gloss that covered your lips as you came to stop in front of him. You were like a flower as he gazed at you. You quickly lifted your wrist to check the thin watch you wore, making sure you weren’t late. You weren’t.

“I hope you weren’t waiting here too long for me,” you giggled and he felt his heart try to burst from his chest. He shook off his stupor the best he could in front of you before he smiled and quickly denied it.

“I haven’t been here long,” he assured. You made a small jest about the both of you wearing something with small polka dots on it and he felt like he was going to fall to his knees at your noticing his attire and complimenting it. You were far too precious.

Throughout the day, he found out that you weren’t only exceptionally kind, but you were probably the biggest pushover he’s ever met. You’d follow after him like a little lost duckling and whatever he recommended doing, wherever he wanted to go, you were quick to agree and comply. With your ease of compliance, he was able to mentally go through the check list of plans he had set with little to no difficulty.

It was miraculous how easily you obeyed him.

Changkyun made note of everything your eyes lingered on, everything your fingers brushed, everything you expressed just the slightest interest in- he would remember. Changkyun wanted to spoil you, wanted to give you everything you desired- everything you deserved. You were an angel walking, cursed upon the earth and nothing anyone could say would change his mind about it.

The entire time you were out with Changkyun that day, you were smiling at him as he hung onto every one of your words. Every interest, every detail, every idea or opinion you had- he grabbed it and held it deep inside his chest.

It was coming close to around ten that night when he was finally getting around to dropping you back home, as he could see the exhaustion in your eyes and the slowness in your steps. He had half a mind to just drive you back to his home, but he couldn’t- not yet.

He walked you to your door as he bid you a final goodnight and as you unlocked your door and pushed it open just a crack, you turned back to him and smiled. He froze when he felt your fingers on his cheek before you stood to your toes and kissed his cheek. You rushed inside before he could say anything and before you could regret it.

The blond sat dazed and only managed to drive a block away before he pulled into a parking lot of a closed, daytime store. His cheeks were flushed, his skin burned and his breath was staggered. He could still feel the feeling of your lips on his cheek and that shiver of delight attacked his spine and spread until he was finishing himself off in the front seat of his car- the sound of your name on his lips over and over again as his fingers brushed his cheek trying to feel the essence of you in his skin.

-x-x-x-

Changkyun had the privilege of taking you out on two more dates over the course of the last two weeks (along with his library trips to visit you) and it was today, when he once again frequented the library- where he noticed you weren’t in your usual high spirits. He pulled you aside on your break and into a back corner library table as he made you spill your guts on what could be plaguing your mind.

It took all of his will power to not scream when you told him you had been being harassed by some library guest who always comes in. He always wants the same book renewed over and over and he always tried to pry your number out of you. Even after clearly telling him no and explaining to you that you were traveling among the silver lining of a relationship with Changkyun- he was persistent. It came to the point you were looking over your shoulder and even jogging to and from work.

“So, he’s stalking you?” Changkyun clarified, as you nodded weakly. He grit his teeth, his jaw tightening. Didn’t other people know that his woman was off limits, especially when it came to following you around? He kept you under his watchful eye, but these men were after something far worse and in his sick, demented mind- they were the offender and they were a disease.

Changkyun reached across the table and gently held your hand, trying to convey that he knew that you were scared and that he’d do anything to keep you safe. He could see the tears glisten around your eyes and a taboo sense of arousal shot in his stomach at seeing your so utterly weak and vulnerable.

He spent the remainder of the time with you on your break as he consoled and shushed you as he promised that he’d stay until you got off and when you did, he’d take you home. You were quick to agree.

That afternoon you rushed to Changkyun’s side and were discreet to point out the man who was hanging outside the library entrance with his nose in his phone. According to you, that was the perpetrator and source of your fear. You clung to Changkyun as he gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders and held you to his chest, walking out with you.

When he dropped you off and kissed the top of your head as he sent you inside, the gentle eyes he had been gazing at you with disappeared as you shut the door and he heard it harshly lock.

Turning around and stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, he waltzed back towards his car, but never got into it. His dark shirt allowed him to dip below the hood of his car as he started walking around in the shadows the street lights created. He stood behind a post as he watched the figure move from the side of the building to the front porch where he crouched below the windows.

You had pulled the curtains and shut the blinds just as he had reminded you to as he was quick to walk up behind the stalker and hook his arm under the man’s chin. The gasp that was pulled from the man was cut off as Changkyun’s arm tightened around his neck and he started to quickly drag the man backward and away from your doorstep.

The blond shoved the man into the backseat of his car, slamming the door as he quickly rushed to get into the driver's seat. Not bothering with his seatbelt, he started the car with tangible rage and started off.

“What the fuck, man!” The man from his backseat scowled as Changkyun only reached into his center console and pulled out a small, black handheld device, pressing the button on the side of it as it zapped. A stungun. The man in the back hissed as he instinctively shut up.

Changkyun’s aggressive driving made the man in the backseat fall back and forth along the seats before he finally gripped the passenger chair to steady himself. Changkyun drove and drove until he was well outside of city limits before he stopped and parked his car. He peered up into the rear-view mirror, seeing the man behind him look around anxiously.

“Get out,” the blond ordered as he stepped out of his car. The man didn’t move, too shocked to process his words and was then yanked out by his shirt clad shoulder when he didn’t listen quick enough for Changkyun’s liking. The club worker threw the man on the ground as he rolled to his back just quick enough for Changkyun to stand over him. His feet on either side of his hips, a glimmer in his eyes that was menacing to witness- even in the darkness of night.

The man on the ground shuddered as he weakly tried to crawl backward on his elbows. His heels kicked and dug into the ground, threatening to pull his shoe off, as he tried to get away from the look in the blond’s eyes.

Changkyun’s foot came to the center of the man’s chest as he stomped, pushing him flat onto the ground. He knelt, coming closer to him as he gripped the collar of his shirt. Changkyun eyed him around- he certainly wasn’t a looker that's for damn sure.

“You really thought you had a chance?” He asked lowly, almost in a growl. “I’ll offer you a bit of last moment advice for perhaps your next life,” he got closer to the man’s ear, before telling him something. “Stay away from things that don’t belong to you,” he seethed.

Over the course of the next few days, Changkyun was delighted to see you smiling again when you told him that the man who had been stalking you seemed to finally leave you alone.

He made sure that a week later when he saw missing person posters out in the streets, your eyes stayed off of them.

-x-x-x-

After a month of dates, library visits, phone calls and good morning and good night texts, Changkyun was finally- finally- able to call you his girlfriend. He was currently out with you at some cafe where you wanted to stop and get something to drink and he decided to walk in and sit down with you for a while.

You were on your phone, tapping away before placing it down and repeating. You were obviously talking with someone on the other end of your text thread, which already ground his gears, but the twisted brow on your face made him more curious than not. Someone was upsetting you and he already knew how to deal with someone who upset you.

“Hey,” he called, gaining your attention. You looked at him, placing your phone back down. “Who’re you talking to, Sweetness?”

“Oh, just to Halie,” you told him. The name of your ‘best friend’ making his skin itch. That fake fraud of a friend couldn’t even leave you alone while you were out with him? The audacity of the woman made him jittery. His knee began to bounce as he pressed further.

“Are you two fighting? You look annoyed.”

You sighed, solidifying that she was indeed bothering you. “She’s mad that I’m out on a date,” you grumbled. Changkyun cocked his head.

“Excuse me?” His resentment slipped out just a small fraction as he wanted to know immediately what this witch was putting into your precious little head. “She’s mad at you for what?”

You groaned again, placing your elbow on the table and your chin in your palm, you huffed. “I think she’s just upset that I have a boyfriend before she does since she knows more people.” The tone in your voice made your annoyance apparent to Changkyun who had spent the last month of his life learning every little quirk in your day to day life- including your vocal tone. “She’s got a whole list of friends and while I have just enough to count on one hand, she's mad about my relationship.”

Changkyun watched you toil the situation around in your head, trying to justify her words and actions, but he couldn’t let you do that. This was a prime opportunity. The perfect time to finally get that wench out of the picture and away from you.

He reached across the table where he sat in front of you, careful not to knock into your drink.

“Darling,” he cooed, gaining your teary, stress filled eyes, “maybe you shouldn’t be talking to her.” He watched your brow quirk and turn inwards at his suggestion. He readjusted his grip on your hand, holding it tightly. “If she’s so angry about something like us, then maybe you should go on a little break at least.”

“But-”

“I know she’s your friend,” he fought back before you could try and save Halie’s snake skin, “but every time you talk about her with me, it’s all things that stress you out or things she’s done that make you uncomfortable.” He vividly remembers the club night of her birthday. “Pressuring you into clubbing, then not paying attention to you at all even though you weren’t enjoying yourself. Never talking to you unless she needs something or someone to bother. Now, she’s angry because you’re happy with me? She’s just using you, Sweetheart.”

“I know she seems bad, but-”

“Y/n,” he breathed in a small, soft scolding tone. “You can’t keep defending her and giving her what she wants. She has to learn, one way or the other.” He watched your lips turn into a pout as he ran his thumb over your knuckles and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it. “I just want the best for you, you know that.”

He bit back a victorious smirk when you told him that you’d take his suggestion and advice to heart and think about it. A little more nudging and you’d drop Halie like a hat. He just had to wait until she brought something else up again that put a target on her back.

It didn’t take but three days for that to occur.

You were home, off on a Sunday, just sitting in your home, on the phone with Changkyun while he just woke up from resting since he had work at Fantasia Dyed that evening. He had some private show booked up so he couldn’t afford to flake out either. He needed the cash for his personal project he always teased, and this coming party was sure to deliver.

You both were chatting happily until you were cut shut but someone pounding on your door. You told Changkyun to hold on a moment as you set your phone down on the arm of your couch and went to the door. Changkyun on the other hand went and immediately opened the camera footage of your front door he had from that camera in your bush.

He growled and jumped out of bed when he saw the back of Halie in the frame. Her arms were crossed and her leg was bouncing as she slouched. When you opened the door, her crossed arms flared out and she was clearly shouting at you from the hiking of her shoulders and the fact that he could hear her obnoxious voice through the call line.

He jumped out of bed. Nothing but sweats on as he threw on a jacket, leaving his chest naked before he was out of his penthouse, racing down the stairs and in his car on the way to your home. He kept the call live- as much as he didn’t want to hear her voice- so he could hear the venom she spat at you as he worked her way inside. Stomping around and screaming like the bitch she was.

When he showed up to your home and jumped out of the car, he finally hung the call up as he stormed inside, knowing the door was unlocked from Halie’s tempertatrum. When he came in, he saw you against the wall with your ‘best friend’ not a foot away from you still screaming at you like you were deaf.

He worked his way over before he was grabbing Halie’s shoulder, shoving her away and placing himself in front of you, walking back into your space until he felt your hands push on his shoulders. He glared at the party animal blonde in front of him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He seethed as she seemed taken aback by his language towards her- a lady.

“Excuse me?” She spat.

“I suggest you leave, or else I’ll make you leave.”

“You can’t make me do anything. This isn’t your home either. I’m just talking to, Y/n.” Changkyun stepped away from you, turning the woman around by her shoulders and started pushing her.

“Yeah? And you’re done now. Get out.” He told her, shoving her out the doorway once he worked her through the front room. Before she could fight back, he got close to her ear and told her one more thing before shutting the door in her face and locking. “Stay away, or I’ll make you.” The look in his eyes, the crazed dangerous gleam, made his threat very, very real.

When he turned back around, he saw you on the ground, curled up as you cried. He rushed to your side, rubbing your back and trying to get you to lift your head to look at him. He cooed when he saw your swollen eyes and fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” he shushed as you just wordlessly nodded with choked hiccups and sputters. You were seriously an ugly crier, but what could you do? Your best friend broke your heart.

Changkyun shifted to hold you to his bare, jacket clad chest as you cried and he shushed you.

“Don’t worry. You don’t need anyone else. I’ll always be here.” He promised.

-x-x-x-

All it took was one more month, and everything was finally falling into place for Changkyun. Halie had officially left your side, with one or two more scraps between him and her before she finally called it quits. And with the queen bee of your circle gone, the rest quickly fell apart and you were left with no one but Changkyun- as you should be.

He was in his extra bedroom, setting up his project more when his phone rang. He jumped to it, knowing it was you calling after you got done with your shift at the library. He had told you to call him when you had the chance, since he wanted you to come somewhere tonight.

“Hello, darling,” he purred into the phone, hearing you slightly chuckle on the other line. “Did work go well? No annoyances?” He asked and he knew that you’d tell him about the computers or the receipt machine or the squeaky wheel on the return cart; but you never knew that he really meant to know if you were being bothered by any other man again. “Well, if your evening is cleared up, why not swing on by Fantasia tonight?”

He heard you pause on the other side of the phone call as he was walking out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. It was almost perfect.

“I’m not sure,” you drawled.

“I’m working the floor tonight, bar-tending for staff out sick. You can sit at the bar with me.” Your hesitation was loud and clear for him as he continued. “I’d really appreciate the company, but if you’d rather not-” he quickly heard you try and reconcile and save the conversation but agreeing to his proposal. You were a sucker for guilt trips. “Really?” He asked in faux concern as he grinned, throwing himself back across the length of his couch.

“Yeah. I’ll come, just promise that you’ll stay at the bar.”

“I’ll do my best. If I have to leave, just hide in the bathroom until I’m back,” ‘so that you won’t be in contact with anyone other than me’, he added silently in his head. You agreed and he said a quick goodbye before he hung up the call. He sat up and peered down his hall, picturing the door of his extra room. Soon, you’d be with him always.

It was an hour after his shift started and he had just served yet another waiting patron when he felt his phone buzz in the back pocket of his pants. He wore a mesh shirt at the bar that showed off his torso. His tattoo in the middle of his back was on display when he turned around. His eyebrow piercing was a black ring this evening and he wore silver hoops in his earlobes. His knee high, buckle punk boots lifting him three inches higher into the air.

‘I’m here, where do I go?’ Your text read with a nervous emoji beside it. He told you the location of the mini side stage bar and soon your head popped out from among the mass of alcohol driver party goers. As you got to the bar and slid into a stool in front of him, he leaned on the counter and whistled at you.

“Well, look who dressed up for me tonight?” He asked, a purr in his voice as your cheeks flushed. He recognized this get up, it was a piece he picked out for you one night. It wasn’t something he thought you’d ever wear out, since you were rather reserved, but he thought you deserved it anyway.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but even a simple, black cocktail dress with lace running up the sides of it and looping around your neck and back looked good when placed on someone as breathtaking as yourself to Changkyun’s eyes. He could faintly hear you clicking your heels together underneath you as they were hooked on the metal foot ring of the stool. The bracelet and earrings were a nice touch.

“I thought it was appropriate since you bought it for me,” you muttered, unable to look at him in the eyes. He chuckled since it wasn’t hard to guess why. His entire chest was on display to see with only lines of fabric separating his entire torso from being nude. He halfway wished he had gotten his nipples pierced when he was on the fence about it months ago just to see how you’d react to that.

He stood back up and turned his back and he could feel your eyes scan the tattoo that rested between his shoulders. Large and taking up a good portion of real estate on his skin. He smirked as he felt you stare, a shiver wracking up his spine just as it always did with you. When he turned around, he offered you a glass of water he had so neatly prepared for you.

“I know you don’t drink, sweetheart,” he told you as you graciously thanked him for the drink. Throughout the course of his shift, he was tending to people left and right. His charisma between patrons and ways of addressing person to person just by acknowledging how they seemed to looked amazed you.

You could never hope to be the people person he is. He was bold enough to get on stage, strip and get behind closed doors for his way of life. He was fearless in your eyes and you admired him for it. He had told you that he would stop sleeping around for money since he was in a relationship with you now, but you just told him it was alright.

You trusted him, and although the idea of him sleeping around did grind under your skin like ice and salt, you knew that was his job. He worked in this industry- the sex industry- so that was the end of it. He had started to dwindle down in client numbers though, never wanting to have the sex he was getting paid for last too long.

The clock struck midnight and Changkyun turned back to you the moment he had an opening to. He leaned over the counter and towards you again, just so he could talk to you clearly over the loud bass and whistling from the stage work.

“What do you say I make a drink for you?” He offered. You looked at your half empty glass of water he had refilled at least three times now. “Just one, I promise. It’ll be on me too. I just want my girlfriend to taste some of my work since I don’t get to work the bar often.”

“Well, when you say it like that,” you whined as he just chuckled and stood up, turning his back and started mixing. It was three minutes later when he was sliding a cocktail glass gently towards you. Inside sat a liquid of pink that resembled the color of pink lemonade, but you knew whatever was inside that wasn’t lemonade. “Voilà,” he told you. “That’s something new I’m trying out. You get to be the first to try it.”

His smile looked innocent enough to your eyes and as you started taking sips of it with a smile and a nod; however, you missed a sinister glint in his eyes. You complimented him on it and found yourself sipping on the drink, making it last until well after one since you didn’t want to have him make another. It was half after when Changkyun noticed you starting to sway in your stool seat.

He placed the towel he had in his hands on the bar before he rounded the bar to your side.

“Darling, come with me. You look like you’re about to pass out,” he chuckled. You couldn’t get your mouth to move or your voice to work as your mind was just as fuzzy as your eyesight. Were you really that much of a light weight? He took you back into one of his private rooms before he placed you on the bed. He sat beside you, brushing your hair from your face and running his fingers around your face, skin and shoulders down your arm. “Sleep. I'll come get you later,” he told you softly- the totally opposite tone of the smirk on his face.

You were in and out of it for the duration of Changkyun picking you up from the bed you vaguely remember placing you on. He picked you up and took you out of the room. The bass of the club had stopped and you only heard him speaking briefly with coworkers before he loaded you into his car.

It felt like he was taking you home as he removed you from the car again and heard the jingles of keys before a door was opened. You only remembered being placed in a bed before you felt him kiss your forehead and you were out for good.

You groaned as you were finally waking up. Your head hurt and you felt like your throat had sandpaper in it. You coughed lightly as you reached your hand up to rub your throat, but something was around your neck.

Feeling around, it felt like a collar or something. It was thick and leather, a small loop in the front of it. You also thought you felt tags near the loop that jangled. Groaning and moving among the mattress you realized that it was pitch black in the room. You were sure your eyes were open, but you couldn’t see a thing.

Sitting up, you felt around your body. Your cocktail dress wasn’t on you instead it felt like a nightgown was. Did you own nightgowns? IT feel off your shoulders to wrap around your chest and biceps with frills as it bunched around your thighs on the mattress.

Your head pounded as you rubbed your eyes. You moved to try and crawl from the bed when you felt something tug on your ankle. Feeling around, whatever was on your ankle was thick, cold and hard. At first you thought it was some anklet, but then you felt something protrude from the cold metal.

Pulling and tracing your fingers around it, you started to panic. It felt like a chain.

You got off the bed you were convinced wasn’t yours as you walked around like some cheap, budget-movie zombie in the dark room. You found a dresser first. Feeling around, you felt the knobs of the four drawers and on top it had what felt like boxes. Reaching further, you found the dresser had a mirror attached to the back of it.

Moving around in the opposite direction, you reached a closet door. Pull it open, you feel all sorts of soft fabric. Silks, satin, fur, cotton, linen- you felt all sorts of clothing.

You looked around the dark room in panic before you trusted your voice.

“Changkyun,” you called softly. You were going to call him again, but stopped short as you stepped on the cold chain that was around your foot. You screamed as you fell backward and before long, you heard someone padding up to the room and the door swung open.

You scrambled back, covering your face with your arms as you soon felt the foot of the bed push against your back, keeping you from going back any further.

“Sweetness, are you awake already?” Your arms that were up slowly lowered as you looked to the open doorway. It was so bright outside of the dark room, you had to squint from the stark contrast. Whoever was in the doorway sounded just like Changkyun, but- it couldn’t be. He walked closer to you. “Darling, can you talk?” His hand came to your throat, touching it with the pad of his fingers above the collar around your neck. “Are you thirsty? It has been half a day.”

You were speechless as Changkyun stood up from in front of you before he walked out of the room. You moved to your knees and looked around. The dresser and closet you found were indeed what you thought.

The bed was a canopy bed. A white frame with pink fabric hanging from it. The covers were red and white with a plethora of pillows at the head of the mattress. There was a rack of four wood dowels by the bedroom door, and three of them a different kind of leash, and the fourth had a pair of handcuffs.

The one window in the room was covered with black out curtains- you couldn’t tell if it was daytime or not outside right now.

Looking down now that you had the light from outside the room, you indeed did have a shackled ankle. You began to pull at it, the cold metal yanking around your skin- pinching and shafting it painfully. You hissed as your yanking was stopped by Changkyun shouting.

“Don’t pull on that!” He cried, dropping to your side to pull your hands from your shackle. “I need to put felt and fur on it before you can move around in it safely. It’ll ruin your skin, but bear with it for now.”

“Changkyun, what?” You squeaked. He smiled, but it was twisted in some sort of menacing light. Maybe it was the light from behind him into the dark room that made him look sinister. You felt yourself begin to tremble.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he told you, patting your head and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Changkyun will take care of everything. I told you to remember?” He caressed your hair, tracing his finger down your face and under your chin. He then moved to hook his finger through the hoop in your collar. “I told you, you don’t need anyone else. I’m all that you need. You are the princess, and this is your tower.” He flicked at the tags on your collar, one labeled ‘Princess’ and the other engraved with his initials.

He then reached to his side to the discarded glass of water he went to get for you earlier for your throat. He gently gripped around your neck and used the back of his hand to tilt your chin up.

The mixing of emotions in your eyes made him shiver and when you blinked out a small tear he gently moved to place his lips over it. The salty taste made him groan as he leaned back and kissed your nose to see your eyes glossy. He smiled at you as he brought the glass to your lips.

“Drink up, Princess.”

a/n: i’ve never ever written a yandere fic before in my life, and as my first try- i rly dont think i did all that bad LOL. Let me know what you think bc it’s very rare I post Monsta X fic content and I need to know if you guys are still into it ;n; (especially with Wonho’s debut days away and a fic for him in progress LOL)

#im changkyun #changkyun #monsta x #mx #changkyun x reader #i.m.#i.m. x reader #yandere!changkyun #yandere #yandere!changkyun x reader #changkyun x reader au #yandere au #changkyun fic #changkyun fanfic #changkyun fanfiction #tw

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frostsinth · 3 years

Text

Laughing at Clouds - Commission One-Shot

This was a commission one-shot for the lovely @toocurly4me who requested a monster match based upon some information given. The request was set to modern day, and with a little info about what our MC is into, I was more than happy to write out a little something for them! I had fun writing this. It was nice to be in our own time for once, and I love seeing our monsters out and about with the rest of us!

Want your own commission? I have a few slots left open. Check out my post HERE for details, or DM me directly. You can also BuyMeACoffe while you peruse my other ramblings on my MasterList

All the best and enjoy!

It was a rainy day on campus, with the cold biting chill of the morning lingering in each droplet that beat against the navy fabric of her school sweatshirt. The forecast hadn’t said anything about rain today. The storm felt like it had come out of nowhere. Hell, it was nearly the middle of winter! If the weather was going to do anything unpredictable, it should be snowing! Then she wouldn’t be caught so horribly unprepared; it would have been easier to brush off soft powder instead of soaking up the ice cold water into every inch of fabric on her body and plastering it to her small form. Until she was completely miserable, and pretty certain her dark skin would have a distinctive blue tint to it from her sweater’s dye bleeding into it.

But there had been nothing for it. Attempting to wait out the worst of the storm in the back of the science building where she had snuck in to view the new zoology exhibit had led to the downpour only getting heavier. And she had that end of term paper due the day after tomorrow. There was no way she could waste another minute lingering beneath those flickering lights. It was only a ten minute walk. How drenched could she possibly get in ten minutes?

The answer was “very”. “Soaked to the bone” also seemed a much more concrete and visceral description to her now than it ever had before in her life. And the young woman wasn’t even sure if she was even still headed in the right direction anymore. Three years on campus had imprinted the memory of the sidewalks of the commons into her mind's eye, but the rain was driving down sideways now, and she had bowed her head and pulled her hood as low as she could over her thick braids to keep it from smacking her in the face.

So she had a lovely view of her grey and black striped boots right when she hit something far more solid than the sheets of rain.

Her center of gravity forcibly shifted, a soft squeak escaping from between her lips before she could even process the fact that her feet were trying to continue forward even as her upper body fell backwards.

Just before she completely lost her balance, she felt something strong and firm catch hold of her flailing arm. Stubbornly denying the will of gravity.

“Hey, woah! Watch out!” Came the cry, the smoky sounding voice muffled by the pounding rain.

But it seemed to no avail. She was going down, and now whoever was the owner of the voice would be coming with her. The young woman toppled backwards, catching the majority of the impact on her bottom before toppling the rest of the way to her back. The icy cold puddles on the sidewalk splashed up about her in a stumpy wave almost comically. Or at least, it would have been comical, had another form not fallen pretty much directly on top of her as well.

Her lips sputtered for air momentarily, stuck somewhere between the weight of the stranger’s body forcing the air from her lungs and the pouring rain making her feel as though she were halfway underwater. She flailed her arms about, gasping in surprise as she tried to get her bearings.

Her progress was impeded by the person currently flailing about themselves as they tried to find solid ground. The full realization of her predicament had her face flushing dark, and she managed to sink her palms into the puddles on either side of her and start to prop herself up. Feeling the water thoroughly soak into the seat and back of her worn jeans as she did.

Her would-be rescuer slash the instigator of all her woes managed to get to their feet first, and she found a hand extended into her line of sight. Dark brown eyes darted up, blinking through the rivers of rain streaming down her face that seemed to pool at the ends of her long lashes. The first thing that cleared the mists beyond the tip of her nose was a set of sharp, sparkling white teeth bared in a sheepish smirk above her. The young woman reached up in a daze, and found her forearm caught in his offered hand. She could barely make him out through the thick turrets, but as he leaned back to help tug her to her feet, she was very aware of the fact that he was not human. Not that she could really tell much else amid the pouring rain. The man was about her height, perhaps shy an inch or two, and that was about the extent of her analysis at the moment. That, and those glitteringly sharp teeth he shot her once more. She couldn’t help but stare a little in surprise even as she got her feet back under her.

It certainly was not entirely out of the scope of possibility. Her university was one of the most diverse in the area. But still, having come from the middle of bumfuck nowhere, and coupled with the fact that she tended to avoid the more crowded aspects of college life in favor of quieter, more solitary activities, the young woman was always a little surprised at first to run into any of the non-human students of the campus. In this case, she was being quite literal about the “running into” part.

“Sorry!” He exclaimed as loudly as he dared, having to raise his voice to be heard over the din of the rain. “I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

Under any other circumstances, she would have laughed as she fished for her soaked hood. “Me neither, I’m sorry too!” She replied quickly, eager to be on her way and out of the downpour. She cast an eye about, and realized she must have turned right at the fork instead of left. She was going completely the wrong direction, which would mean even longer out in the icy grip of the storm. She shivered at the thought.

He seemed to be looking about as well, and reached for what appeared to be an umbrella that had been lost to the side of the path in the scuffle. As he scooped it into hand and turned it right side up, she gave a shriek of surprise which matched his own yelp as a fresh bucket of water fell on both of them.

“Aw, fuck!” He shouted, jumping a little. “Damnit! Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

Now freshly soaked and feeling like a drowned cat, she looked at him. Her arms wrapped around her shivering body, her thick hair plastered to her face and neck. He moved to hold the umbrella high over the both of them, again returning her bewildered stare with another sheepish look. He managed to reduce the rain’s assault on the tops of their heads at least, save for a few errant drips, but increasing its pounding crescendo tenfold in their ears as it pounded against the top of the umbrella instead.

“Look, my place is just there,” He told her, pointing to one of the scraggily buildings repurposed for dorms a few yards down the road, “Come on, it’s fucking cold out here. We’ll catch our deaths.”

She glanced over at the building, still shivering, and opened her mouth to reply. Quite before she could, she found his arm scooped in hers. Steering her the few yards to the creaky iron gate and up to the door. She was far too surprised to object.

Once on the covered porch, he released her arm, then shook the excess water from his umbrella and turned to look back over the drenched campus behind them.

“Gods above, what a dreadful day.” He grumbled before turning to face her properly. “I’m sorry I knocked you over…. And then dumped water on you…” He cocked his head to the side, smirking grin returning to his face, “And then proceeded to kidnap you. Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

The woman blinked at him stupidly a few times, finally able to take him in from head to toe without the rain impeding her line of sight.

He was slender built, with an athletic form currently generously framed by the way his drenched clothes stuck to him like spandex. Water dripped from the tip of a long slender nose, and his eyebrows arched in the center of an over pronounced brow as he looked at her. It was impossible to tell what color his hair was normally, as it was several shades darker now with water dripping from the spikey tips that were currently flattened to the top of his head. She ventured to guess it was probably a copper brown, and he seemed to have the sides shaved stylishly short while the top was wild and long. Long enough to possibly braid down the back of his slightly oversized head she imagined, should he so choose. He also boasted a pair of large ears, nearly as wide as her palm where they connected to the side of his skull, but then tapering into a broad but slightly rounded point a few inches beyond. The tips were loose, and shifted with his features as he talked. As expressive as his wry lips, which curled back into that sheepish smirk as she watched. She would also venture to guess that he was a deep, mottled green, though in the dim light of the morning it was hard to tell the exact shade, and she imagined he might be a fair bit paler from the cold.

The goblin cocked his head back to the side under her inspection, perhaps used to such staring, and offered out his hand “I’m Jaco, by the way.”

“Uh... “ She realized her mouth was dropped open a bit, and quickly endeavored to close it. Reaching out to carefully take his hand in hers. But as she met his bright yellow eyes… the knowledge of her own name suddenly fled her. “Oh.. I’m… Um…”

His brow raised quizzically. “... Ah, Are you alrig-”

“Rachelle!” She blurted quickly, then cleared her throat embarrassedly. “... I’m Rachelle…”

That sheepish grin returned, and his eyes glinted mischievously. “... Perhaps you hit your head when we fell?” He offered, almost as if he could read the loud hum that seemed to be currently filling her cranium. Though it certainly wasn’t from falling. Well… not the fall he meant at least...

She did laugh now, releasing his hand bashfully and pushing the loose strands of her sopping hair out of her face. “Something like that…”

“Sorry again about all that... “ He shuffled his feet, clearing his own throat and sneaking a peak up at her. “Can I make it up to you? Perhaps some tea or coffee? Or maybe hot chocolate, if you’ve got a sweet tooth?”

Rachelle gave a hefty sigh, shaking her head. “I really shouldn’t, I’ve got a term paper due that I haven’t even started-”

“Well, you won’t be able to start until you get dry, right?” He interrupted. “Why not dry off and warm up over some cocoa with some company?”

Her face blazed hot again, and she sheepishly rubbed at the back of her neck. “I’d just get wet again.” She pointed out with a small smile.

“I’ll escort you back, if you want.” He offered. “Or you can take my umbrella; I’ll enchant it this time so you won’t get a drop on you.” Her eyes lit up at the word ‘enchant’, and the goblin eagerly latched on. “I’m here studying enchantments.” He explained. “Working on my thesis actually, in thermopartical magicks and their effect on…” He dropped off, looking a little embarrassed at the sudden gush of enthusiasm for an obviously favored topic “... Ah, I don’t want to bore you with the science-”

“No, it’s not boring at all!” She returned quickly, almost bouncing on her toes in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to learn more about magic, but humans aren’t allowed to study the Application field, only research and historical.”

His sharp toothed grin grew to reach almost to his ears. “I am certainly not above showing off with a few magic tricks for a beautiful woman.” He teased, and his ears flopped as he cocked his head to one side. “Especially if it makes her eyes sparkle like that when I do.”

She nearly toppled over as her head spun at his words. A shy laugh petered from her lips, and she shuffled her feet. But she couldn’t completely hide the embarrassed smile that slipped across her lips. Jaco waited a moment, then bowed his shoulders, trying to catch her eye.

“... Can I tempt you again with the hot cocoa, Rachelle?”

She grinned again, looking up at him coyly. “... I could probably be convinced.”

He returned the smile, and reached for the handle of his door, bowing melodramatically at the waist as he opened it for her. She couldn’t help another laugh, and moved to step around him. As she did, her foot slipped on the old wooden boards of the porch, having spent the last few minutes becoming horribly slick with the water dripping in streams off their clothes. She gave another squeal, and felt herself sliding backwards for the second time that day. This time, Jaco reacted quicker, and his arm snaked out, catching her and lending his strength as she gathered her feet beneath her once more.

However, the motion brought him perilously close to her, and both of their eyes widened slightly at their sudden proximity. A hesitant silence filled the air, punctuated only by the drumming rhythm of the rain around them. Her breath caught and fluttered about in her throat, her heart skipped sporadically in her chest. He smelled of rain right now, but there was also the distinct hint of something spicy beneath it… cinnamon maybe? The realization that he was close enough to distinguish that made the balls of her cheeks grow hot despite the chilly morning air.

She couldn’t help her eyes darting down to his thin lips. Which curled into a smile as she did. Rachelle quickly corrected her gaze, meeting his yellow eyes with dark pools of velvet brown.

“Don’t let me stray down that train of thought,” He warned her lightly, his voice teasing and soft, “I’m trying to be a gentleman. Cocoa and an enchanted umbrella seem more than sufficient for a good first impression, no?”

She straightened a little more, and realized his three fingered hand had lingered in the small of her back. “Oh?” She managed after a shallow little wisp of a breath. “And I suppose a gentleman wouldn’t kiss a woman they’ve just met?”

She meant it to sound teasing and light, but his sharp yellow eyes danced at the sound of her voice. She caught him sneaking a peak at her full lips and they tingled under his scrutiny. She chased a nervous breath down her throat with a quiet swallow.

“I suppose they might. But the problem is,” He purred, leaning a little closer, “If I kissed you now, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop...”

#monster lover #monster fluff #monster x human #goblin lover #goblin boyfriend #modern monster #terato #exophilia #soft stuff #one shot #citrus #monster romance

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caescloud · 4 years

Note

How about some shiggy fluff with a reader that has an emotion reading quirk and she just sees how broken he is and wants to help him and he’s just like ???? What’s this? Human decency? Tomura.exe has stopped working

Anon, I almost leapt out of my chair when I got your ask because not only is your brain huge, you made me think of my oc who has pathokinesis for a quirk! So thank you for an awesome prompt, I’ll do my best to explore this topic! There are some liberties I’m taking so let me know if this is slightly out of the scope of what you wanted the power to be portrayed as, I can adjust it. And I went with two routes for this one, hope that’s alright! Also, spoilers for the content covered up until about chapter 246!

Emotion/Empathy Quirk!Reader x Shigaraki, Fluff Hcs

As someone with a quirk that allows you to literally emphasize with other people, it’s hard to ignore those who are in distress. As a member of the League, you regularly are among companions whose more negative emotions you pick up on. Shigaraki is no exception to this. For all he does to mask his feelings, be it out of repressing his deepest memories or simply not willing to let himself feel the more somber emotions, Shigaraki has his days.

Approaching Shigaraki when you sense this emotional shift in him may play out depending on how close you two are. I feel that either way, he will be wary of someone who can instantly know the extent of what he’s feeling without knowing the context- it’s this perception he has of being “seen” and vulnerable, but not on his own terms. For this reason I wouldn’t recommend opening anything major; start small, a simple “I noticed you’ve been off, I’m here to listen if you need it.” (The second set of hcs are more fluffy than the first, I swear! )

If you’re not as close yet:

“Your vibes are off my guy” /j

You likely noticed his mood around when you first met him, the childish glee at the prospect of carrying out villainous schemes, the apathy felt for society, the frustration when things went awry, and this...undercurrent of intensely negative energy.

Your intentions are truly straightforward when you discover him

Had you not had the quirk you had, you likely would have missed the sudden “peak” of distress one night. Shigaraki experienced a rather nasty nightmare that sent him for a bit of an inner spiral. The LOV base was small enough that you could sense him despite being in separate rooms, the feelings of fright and melancholy were too palpable for you to ignore. You could sense when emotional activity subsides when people are asleep but Shigaraki didn’t seem to fall back asleep that night. You had difficulty yourself and made a note to confront him in the morning, when he’d likely be moving around while the others wouldn’t.

Shigaraki is aware of your quirk and how it works; he is the leader who is responsible for knowing key information regarding subordinates. What he didn’t expect, and may have subconsciously hoped you wouldn’t do, is “pry” into him after an episode.

SO in addition to that plus being in a sour mood that following morning, he may be more snappy and curt when you approach him. He doesn’t feel it’s your business nor something you should be spending energy on. He’s not really in a headspace to discuss what he dreamt about or exactly know how to put it into words; he’d likely tell you to move on because that’s what he’s doing.

Ball is in your court at this point; sticking around him may not be the best move unless you’re going to be quiet while he soothes his thoughts on his own; having anyone around him may be more of irritation/distraction than a comforting presence. If you do try to get him to keep talking, he’s gonna flat out leave the bar in a bit of a huff to blow off steam. If you leave yourself, best not to do so in a way that makes it seem like you’re mad at him? It’s not that he’s really concerned with how you’re feeling per se, this is more of a long-term behavior. Calmly letting him know you will respect his boundaries and telling him you’ll be around let’s him know that you’re a mature enough individual which is pretty big for him. Even if he doesn’t remark on it then and there; he’s all about those little details when it comes to people.

Even if at this moment he doesn’t especially appreciate “someone nosing around” in his head, he can’t completely ignore your intentions. You’re not on thin ice, but he’s gonna maintain a bit of a guard around you until there’s more trust solidified. After all, he can’t be scaring off competent allies like you when he needs ‘em this early on.

If there is trust/a relationship between you two:

You two have a much better rapport with each other this time around. Between fighting alongside each other, going through shared struggles and trials, those rare late-night chats you’ve had, Tomura and you are far closer now than ever before.

You are a valuable ally of his and someone who he lowered his walls down ever so slightly more for. As mentioned above, the fact you respected his boundaries early on while maintaining your welcoming presence has served you well in this area. If it’s you asking him about his troubles, that’s okay. You’ve seen him at some pretty harsh lows and still stayed by him and everyone.

Heck, even prior to this, you’ve already begun to notice a change in Tomura and how he’s been acting since the Kamino incident. Showing his face and apparent care for the LOV will also likely factor into him feeling more comfortable around you as well. After losing AFO and Kurogiri, this point stands even stronger. The league is his family, you’re a part of that too of course. But out of everyone, there’s a unique bond between the two of you.

So when you approach him as a result of the impossible to ignore feelings of turmoil, not that he’s outwardly showing this, you do so with the same, genuine concern you held the first time this happened. This is someone who you’ve gotten to understand hasn’t had much of a break when it comes to basic human kindness in most of his life. And he is also someone you truly care for, no strings attached. (Hard not to when you’ve been exposed to his innermost feelings after all.)

He’s clearly trying to hold himself together in the aftermath of Kamino; he seems to be clutching desperately onto himself as a way to ground. The loss of AFO and Kurogiri is taking its mental toll and while the others have opted to give him space, you chose to go to him; hopeful of any comfort you could give in order to soothe the ferocious panic and frustration sweeping over his mind.

Once again you offer him your ear, a shoulder, your words if he’d rather listen to someone else talk instead to take his mind off. He doesn’t brush you off this time but also doesn’t say too much. He stares very intensely at you, searching for a trace of judgement or gratuitous pity and finding none. Despite everything, you two fall into a comfortable silence, that hand you’ve placed on his shoulder acting as an anchor.

The next time this happens is after the battle with the MLA

The base you’re in is more lavish, fitted with more space and rooms for it’s members to reside in. However, you’re still able to sense Tomura’s emotions go completely haywire. The intense loneliness, fright, anger, and sadness crash into you and pull you under.

You don’t realize you’re moving until you’re outside his door, softly calling his name, sensing he’s alert and awake now. You almost feel this will play out as it did nearly a year ago until the door slowly creaked open, a single red eye gazing right through you. You’re about to speak when he reaches for you and pulls you in.

Huh. This is the first time he’s literally reached out for you, a fleeting thought. It’s dark and you’re unable to see him, but you feel the slight tremor wracking his frame and grip. You’re thankful it’s as dark as it is because you don’t want him to see your tears; whenever someone is feeling as badly as he is at the moment, your quirk can have the impact of flooding your emotions, especially if your control is not at its peak.

“Tomura, I’m here for you. I’m ready to help, tell me what I can do,” you muster in your most soothing and level voice, masking your outward emotions well. He is still wordless but moves you and him over to where his bed is, guiding you both down onto the mattress. A low sigh leaves his lungs as he tries to compose himself, grip still around your wrist. You feel your way over to the hand that’s holding you, carefully maneuvering the fingers off and transferring his hand properly into both of yours. You work mindless patterns and pressures over the appendage, further trying to physically calm him.

It starts with an utterance of the words “bad dream, family, my sister-”. He doesn’t go into very descriptive detail but with the way he’s feeling and how he’s speaking, you know it’s nothing pleasant. “They’re gone, it’s done. So why do I still...have these ridiculous visions of them?”

Your heart has ached hearing the way he talks; whether he realizes the extent of his words, when he talks about others and himself or his past, you feel compelled to be open with him.

What happens next almost shatters your heart because he asks you not to go. He’s done talking about his dreams and the past, his fingers are itching to go at this neck, and he’s just tired. When you pull him into your embrace, him mindful of where his hands fall, he surprisingly accepts it.

You’ve got him and you’re not letting go, gently smoothing over his hair to further placate him. He’s definitely feeling better than when you’ve found him. You only begin to drift off when you feel him truly calm down and go limp in your arms. No one dares to say anything the next morning when the future king has skipped out on a meeting.

He’s not going to say this out loud but he is truly grateful you treated his emotions with the care he didn’t realize they needed from someone like you.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki hcs #imagines #tenko shimura #fluff #sfw

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vinatintasupernovita · 3 years

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2 for the warm weather/summer prompts 👀

2. “I’ll explain later, but for now, can I throw this frozen margarita in your face and call you a jerk?” with some Michael/Beelzebub

———

There was exactly two times every century or so that Heaven and Hell’s forces looked forward to. One was the long-awaited ‘Casual Friday’- that was more Heaven’s deal, as Hell had long since abandoned their dress codes- and the other was the weekend-long co-office summer beach party.

The beach party was, on the record, a strategic meeting. Heaven and Hell would get together on a secluded beach on Earth and.. ‘scope out’ the opposing side- try and find weak points. This was a crack of shit clearly as most of everyone used this weekend to let their hair down for a couple days and get out any pent up energy they had from the thousands of years of sitting in shitty cubicles that were only different in color scheme. And after a long time considering, they both decided giving up on that after the failed apocalypse would just be another kick to the nuts.

Beelzebub sat at the cabana bar- the warring forces had co-rented a hotel and their private beach this time around and everyone agreed it was a much better experience now that endless drinks were included.

They sipped on a frozen lime martini as they played with the string of their cover-up. A few of the other lords and dukes were mingling on the beach with a couple angels- none that Beelzebub really knew the names of. They preferred to sit and drink in silence since it was going to be some of the only quiet they were going to get for awhile.

“Beelzebub!” And there the silence was broken. They turned on the swivel stool and looked to see Gabriel approaching in his usual purple hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. They rolled their eyes but motioned him over all the same.

“Featherbrain, you’re looking beachy.” They said as he took the seat next to them. He shook his head when the bartender questioned if he’d like a drink, and Beelzebub continued drinking. “Still won’t taste humanity’s finest creation?”

“You know how I feel about gross matter.”

“Yes, won’t eat food or drink alcohol unless it’s with humanity’s least favorite dietician at some overpriced gastronomy joint.”

Beelzebub was one of three people that knew about Gabriel’s currently covert relationship with Famine. The other two people were Frannie- Gabriel and Famine’s girlfriend- and Aziraphale, who Gabriel had originally turned to for romantic advice as he was the only other angel Gabriel had knowledge of dating non-angels. Demons and Monsters of the human subconscious were only a couple steps away from one another on the supernatural hierarchy anyway.

Beelzebub got to know about that little circle as they were, for lack of better terms, Gabriel’s closest friend. They had a mutual distaste and disrespect-turned-respect for another for the last couple thousand years that evolved into a genuine friendship. Gabriel would spill about his new escapades in love and Beelzebub would offer advice as if they had ever had a romantic encounter in their entire existence.

That would change however as Gabriel caught them staring at Michael off in the distance. Michael was, admittedly, the hottest angel in Beelzebub’s opinion. They’d never say it out loud, but it was apparent from the way they were missing their straw as they tried to continue drinking. Gabriel only chuckled.

“Distracted, Beelzebub?” He asked, only to snap their attention back to him and get a glare in return.

“Im never distracted. Especially not by angels.” They argued.

“I never said anything about it being an angel specifically. Could’ve been Asmodeus.” He said.

“Ugh, don’t make me gag.” They said as they pulled the drink closer. “What, are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t need to tell Michael anything- he’s probably watching us right now.” Gabriel said as he leaned on the bar. “He likes to think he’s discreet but really most of Heaven knows how he likes to play spy.”

“He can’t hear us from that far-“

“No, but he can watch.” He said. “He’s good at that.

Sure enough, Michael was watching- watching with a kind of jealous glint in his eyes. He looked up from the sun-tan mirror in his hands for a moment as he tried to read Gabriel and Beelzebub’s motions. They were friends, that was clear, but Gabriel had been acting much brighter in the last few weeks and Michael had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why- he had to have some new lover.

But Gabriel wasn’t dating an angel. If it had been an angel everyone in Heaven would’ve known about it by now. But nothing- no info from anyone. And from the looks of it, it was a demon. At least, that was the working theory Michael had.

Now as previously stated, that was not the case at all as that would’ve been cheating on Gabriel’s actual partners and gross to Beelzebub, who would sooner eat glass, but Michael didn’t know that. And, for the record, he had been meaning to ask Beelzebub to a drink for the last three beach weekends, he just never got around to it. Uriel said it was because he was too chicken, but Michael would prefer to keep his pride in tact in case of a rejection.) But now, timing was critical. For both him and Beelzebub.

They had to figure out a way to get Michael to come over and assess exactly why he was staring- maybe put the moves on him, as the kids say. But they needed a reason, any rea-

They looked at their half-consumed margarita and got a brilliant idea.

“Gabriel, I’ll explain later, but for now, can I throw this frozen margarita in your face and call you a jerk?” They asked, only for Gabriel to blink at them.

“Um, sure?”

Splash!

“You holy fucking jerk!” Without a second given for Gabriel to question their thought process, Gabriel was drenched in lime margarita and all eyes seemed to be on them. Most of everyone just turned and looked and wondered or snickered, expecting some kind of further blow up in the coming minutes.

Thankfully, Michael took the bait. As he walked up, Beelzebub gave Gabriel a look that just about screamed ‘play along.’

“Is there a problem, Lord Beelzebub?” Michael asked as he looked between his now-drippy brother and the Prince of Hell. Beelzebub turned to Michael and cleared their throat.

“Just Gabriel being his usual dumbass self. I’d say he should think before he speaks but clearly he can’t ever think.”

“I resent that-“ Gabriel started, only for Michael to raise his hand slowly to quiet him.

“Now, now, we don’t need any of that. Not now, at least. We have a truce.” He said. “Gabriel, why don’t you clean up while I try to smooth things over here?” That’s when Gabriel saw Beelzebub nod, and finally it clicked.

“Oh, fine.” He said, getting up from the cabana. “We’re not done here, Beelzebub!” He was such a bad actor, but thankfully he was walking away.

“So sorry about him.” Michael said as he took Gabriel’s spot. “Let me get you another drink, on me.” He waved over the bartender. “What was it?”

“Lime margarita with a salted rim.” Beelzebub said.

“One of those and a cherry daiquiri for me.” Michael ordered, and the bartender nodded before heading to make the drinks. “Now, why don’t you tell me all about what happened?”

“You were watching us, i’m sure you could guess.” Their words had an air of mischief in them that Michael caught right away. He nodded.

“I watch everyone. But I have to say I’m surprised, I thought you and Gabriel were close.”

“He’s not the worst angel i’ve ever met.”

“But you’re not denying that you’re close?”

“He’s my friend, nothing more. Sometimes he’s much less.”

“And I’m assuming right now he’s the ladder?” Michael said as he took a sip of his drink. “You still haven’t explained what happened.”

“He was being nosey, that’s all. But damn does it weigh on you after the hundredth question.” Beelzebub lied, watching for another look of interest in Michael’s eye. “Asking too many personal questions.”

“Like?”

“You too?” They said sarcastically. “Well, if you must know, he was asking if I fancied anyone. Wanted to plan a double date with me and my person of choice and his new partners. So annoying.”

There was the info Michael was looking for- he’d have to ask Gabriel about it later but partners plural stuck to his head. That, and the fact it wasn’t Beelzebub. That was step one. Now they were both onto step two.

“And who would be your person of choice- if you have one?” Michael asked. “Any demonic entity catch your eye?”

“Id sooner discorporate myself than date anyone in the same office.” Beelzebub said. “Too close for comfort, don’t know how some of them make it work.”

“I see. I suppose I could say the same. Angels are close-knit but sometimes it could be a bit much.”

“I didn’t know you were the type to date outside the heavenly realms.”

“Well, things change with time, don’t they? I mean we should’ve destroyed one another by now but we’re drinking together instead.”Beelzebub nodded, leaning on their elbow.

“Suppose you’re right.” They said. “If you’re free, we could also get dinner together. Up to you.”

That’s when it hit Michael exactly what they were implying. He chuckled. The sly bastard.

“I think that sounds delightful.”

#wow this was longer than i thot it would be #good omens #fresa’s fics #beelzebub x michael #michael good omens #beelzebub good omens #yes i wrote in some gabriel/famine/frannie cus im obsessed w them

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emersonfreepress · 3 years

Note

okay so is there content that you had planned for the ROs and story in general but then scrapped cause there wasn’t a good place in the story to stick it in? and if so, can you share what it was? 👀 👀 👀

yes, definitely. *rubs hands together* oh man, you done asked THE question today xD I can't wait to get into this 😁

Academics. I almost decided to have classes and grades be a minor part of gameplay, but the more time I spent designing it the more I realized I wanted nothing to do with it 😂 I haven’t really enjoyed academic gameplay in other interactive fiction because I 1) hate having to choose between studying and interacting with awesome characters, 2) have terrible short term memory, and 3) hate school in general!! So instead I just opted to have the MC be really good at school, point blank period so I could focus on social drama and relationships instead! 😆

Physical skills. I spent literal months crafting the catering scene around setting up stats for stamina/endurance, dexterity, and strength instead of just magnetism, confidence, and persuasion. They had their own backstories with the MC’s parents being overly invested sports parents instead and I think the background choices were like... martial arts, gymnastics, and track? But yeah, I ended up scrapping it all because I was spending hours on research about those individual sports so I could integrate them into the MC’s narrative organically but like... when I tried to think of what use they would be in the actual story, I came up blank. Best decision yet, esp since it means a lot less coding!

Skin tone customization. For one, I noticed that a lot of my favorite IFs don’t offer that customization and it hasn’t impacted my experience at all. For two, I originally realized I might as well not implement it since I am striving real hard not to introduce any customization that won’t actually be mentioned in interesting or meaningful ways in-story. I don’t think it’s really all that common for real life friends (esp in high school?) to comment or compliment each other’s skin and like... when it comes from someone who doesn’t share a similar complexion or ethnic background, that type of commentary gets... d i c e y. So then I wanted to be sensitive to that but what’s the pay-off? An RO mentioning how they love your skin tone once? Awkward sentences with the MC referring to their own skin color? Idk, just wasn’t vibing with it. I’m open to revisiting it in beta or something but for now it’s scrapped.

Singing, Rapping, and Gaming as Hobbies/Talents. I feel bad about scrapping these, honestly 😂 They’re great and I really wanted to incorporate them but it just came down to already having a lot of stuff to code. Plus, I know I can write the Hobbies/Talents I stuck with far better. And for Book 2 purposes, as well!

Leo. as @sourandflightypeaches asked me about a long while ago, I had to scrap an entire RO 😢 His name is Leo, he was the nephew of wealthy west African diplomats residing in Emerson, and I love him dearly! His backstory was largely based on my mother’s childhood and the circumstances she lived through after immigrating to America. and... ok, i’m about to go on one hell of a tangent so buckle up and bear with me if you can 😅

my intention with this story, aside from writing things that I personally enjoy (graphic violence, spooky woods, social drama, romance, conspiracies 😚), is to explore greed, wealth, and how the ways people and families interact with those two things influence young people and who they grow up to be. here i go sounding pretentious af 😝 and here’s where I apply a cut for those who want to preserve a little mystery to the main characters!

With Gabe, we’ve got someone who grew up with very little stability or financial security but who has found unscrupulous methods to gain status and money, with both noble and selfish motivations.

Kile has some of that childhood experience in common with Gabe, having been in the foster care system since infancy, but they lucked out when they were adopted into massive wealth by a caring, loving couple—a couple that uses their wealth and privilege to be far more lenient and protective of Kile than is actually reasonable or responsible.

Jack comes from a prestigious wealthy family on his dad’s side who he loves dearly but there’s no getting around the fact that they love him back as much as they despise his working class mom.

Jessie is a spoiled sweet heiress (being the baby of her family and the only girl) and while she lives blissfully ignorant of the harmful source and impact of her father's income and career, she bears the weight of the expectation to fulfill very traditional gender roles, including her behavior and appearance, but also extending to her career and life plans.

Rain's wealth led to them growing up sheltered and isolated but also extremely accommodated, giving them maximum freedom and opportunity to discover and develop their personal talents and interests. However, they have almost no positive relationship with their parents who have essentially decided to give up on a kid that couldn't be exactly the accessory they tried to mold them to be—both in terms of their identity and personality.

Rupan/Rohan, at their very core, rejects everything about conformity, self-importance, and excessive luxury—which means they have never, ever truly fit in with their peers. Going full non-conformist, however, has resulted in them becoming alienated from much of their family, as well, despite them all loving each other very much. Their history with false friends and betrayals has led them to over-indulge in their vices and reckless behavior to compensate for that isolation. Sometimes, they just get in over their head and many times, they know better. Every time, it's just that the feeling of finally belonging is utterly intoxicating.

Vivian/Vincent has two extremely successful parents who didn't inherit but instead built up their wealth and they aspire to be just like them, to a degree that is well and truly unhealthy. Their mother specifically is an over-achiever and applies mountainous pressure for them to follow in her footsteps, especially academically. Vi is completely capable of achieving what their mom expects of them, but they were already an extremely sensitive perfectionist so this has made them intensely critical of themself. This is a large part of why they are such a rigid, no-nonsense person and that in turn has made them one of the most disliked people among their peers—which is a huge personal failure to them since their father is a very well-liked and socially successful person in town.

And the Emersons are peak privilege: inherent high social status, brains, looks, charisma, athleticism, and massive wealth. They could never have been anything less than extremely popular, just by virtue of their last name and the nature of the town's social dynamics and politics. And they do enjoy that privilege (esp Curt lol). However, it should go without saying that being so high profile, even (or maybe especially) just in the isolated scope of your hometown, isn't always a boon. Their family's and their own perceived failings are widely discussed and privately mocked and/or celebrated. Real friends are scarce while fake ones and snakes are plentiful. Plus their dad is a gigantic dickhead who sees his kids as extensions of his own status and reputation and not much else. Public shortcomings make for an unbearable time at home and the world outside the estate is at once overly accommodating, full of assumptions, and even subtly hostile at times—all unrelated to their own actions or character.

And with the MC, I think the narrative will make it clear there are several ways that story can go. You start off with irresponsible parents that have lost their wealth due to their own mismanagement and material ambitions—how that affects any individual MC should differ based on choices and consequences!

So why bring any of that up when I was supposed to be talking about my cut OC? 😂😂

Leo was going to be the unwelcome recent addition to his uncle’s household, the son of a brother his aunt hates for (petty af) Reasons, and she took that resentment out on him directly by restricting his access to nearly every aspect of the family's wealth. Especially material goods and living conditions. He was basically treated like the help, tasked with playing nanny for his many younger cousins and burdened with doing the homework and providing academic cover for his dumb as rocks cousin in the same grade as you all. To sum it up, he was basically a victim of trafficking at the hands of his own family with his uncle out of town enough to feign ignorance to how bad his wife was treating his nephew and his aunt going out of her way to keep him busy, at home, and isolated. This is sadly a super common form of trafficking in Francophone African cultures (although I don't think most people view it as trafficking. and I’m sure the same is true of other cultures but I don’t want to speak outside of my purview). And like I mentioned above, it’s how my own mom's (and idek how many cousins') child/teenhood went.

It’s a perspective on modern wealth, privilege and greed that I really, really wanted to tell. I am confident in saying it hasn't been explored in interactive fiction yet (though correct me—and direct me 👀—if I'm wrong) and out of all the wealth/greed explorations I came up with, it's the one I have the closest personal ties to and the strongest feelings about. The characters and plans I had for it were detailed and I'm proud of them but at the end of the day... I just couldn't find a place for Leo in the story at large.

Leo was, in fact, the last main character I came up with, when I had already designed and fleshed out the larger story and started crafting the timeline of major events. I think the worst thing I could have done for a story and perspective that I care about this much is shove it into a plot that didn't have room for it at the very base level, regardless of how well the character or his story is written. Shoe-horned characters always stick out. I didn’t want to disservice Leo by having him be the character that did nothing or could be removed from the main plot without affecting it at all, y’know? That’s so much worse than just forgoing the indulgence, imo :((

ugh.... Leooooo 😭 I'm so sorry bb, I failed youuu 😥

#lovely anon #answered #hotmess #ok I am truly so sorry for going on and on like this #writing #ch design #ty for this question it was really nice to revisit this stuff 😃#and a nice reminder to not look back lol #scrapped

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aurorawest · 3 years

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"More about his kinks? His rich history of sexual assault and how that messes with him? His hang-ups around physical attraction and emotional attraction? Something else that I’m forgetting to list?" ALL OF THE ABOVE! Seriously, if you wrote an essay on each topic I'd def read it, LOL, I'm so on board 🥳

I’m so sorry for taking forever to answer these. I felt like I wasn’t really giving the topic the due it deserved—I still think I could say more, and say it better, but here’s what I’ve got for now!

TW for talk about general sex stuff and sexual assault.

Section 1: Who is Loki attracted to?

Loki is bi/pan (not a label he would apply to himself, but I’m going to use it as shorthand). This is something he’s known about himself since his early adolescence. He probably was more aware of being attracted to women, just because, you know, heteronormativity. I head canon that queerness wasn’t totally accepted on Asgard when he was young, but there was a wide range of opinion and there were certainly many people that were totally accepting (amongst them, his family). And by the time of the MCU timeline, my hc is that attitudes are largely accepting. So young Loki is aware he’s attracted to men, and he’s willing to pursue that, but he’s still nervous about making it widely known. A lot of that is tied up with not feeling like it’s Asgardian enough, it’s not the kind of masculinity that Asgardians seem to prize.

My personal head canon is that Loki has been attracted to more men than women.

Section 2: When is he attracted to them?

I sometimes think that I sort of head canon Loki as demisexual (again, not a term he’d use). I see Loki’s libido becoming further and further separated from his capacity for emotional intimacy as he gets older. He gets to a point where he almost never feels attracted to someone unless he’s got that emotional connection...but he doesn’t like admitting to an emotional connection. So he’ll be like, ‘Oh, I just think he’s hot, no biggie. He just pops up in my sexual fantasies all the time, exclusively actually, and I regularly get off to the thought of him undressing—but it’s just physical! I don’t actually like him!” Like he’s fully aware that for other people, this is a thing that can be true. But it’s not true for him. In order for him to be really sexually attracted to someone, he has to have that emotional bond. Which again, he’ll deny. It’s a really healthy emotional cycle.

Section 3: Idk if it’s really sexuality but his genderfluidity

So again, I don’t think genderfluid is a term Loki would use to describe himself, and I also don’t think it’s quite the right word to use to describe what he is (just my personal hc, I of course do not have any issue at all with other people using the term to describe him). I definitely have Loki’s shapeshifting as part of his character, though I write him in his male form 95% of the time for a number of reasons, some of them related to canon, some of them more as a personal response to fanon. That’s out of scope for this ask, haha. I write him as identifying as male in his male form and female in her female form.

Section 4: Compartmentalization of sex as separate from emotional intimacy

Loki views sex, and his body, as a commodity. It’s another tool in his arsenal. He sees it as diplomacy, as a way to get what he wants, to save his life, whatever. He can and will use sex as a bargaining chip.

It’s maybe as a result of this, or maybe the other way around, that Loki doesn’t really feel sexual attraction to people unless he’s already got an emotional connection. He’s completely compartmentalized these two aspects of intimacy, to the point where he really fears the emotional intimacy that would lead to him feeling actual sexual attraction. Because he sees sex and sexual attraction as something he can control, it’s the less scary of the two. So sex is preferable to love. With sex, he can be in control (or tell himself he’s in control) of the situation, in the sense that he has consented to it in some way. But love? He didn’t consent to that. He doesn’t want to feel that. He can’t stop himself from feeling it and he can’t control who he feels it for.

Section 5: Sub/Dom?

I covered this in an earlier ask but I might as well talk about it again! My Loki is very very sexually submissive most of the time. Likes being put in his place, controlled, held down, told what to do, etc etc. He can be dominant sometimes, if the mood strikes him, but his preference is to be submissive.

Related to his nervousness around coming out, Loki very much felt like as the prince, as an Asgardian Man, there was like...a right way to have sex. If he was going to have sex with men, he was going to top. Only top. And he was going to be dominant about it. He had to be in charge, even though this really didn’t come naturally to him. So in his early sexual encounters, that’s what he did, even though it wasn’t what he wanted. This led to him having a lot of unsatisfactory sex as a young man, haha.

He also spent a decent portion of his life being ashamed of the kind of things that turn him on, because again, he thinks it’s bad optics for who he is.

Section 6: Kinks

My Loki isn’t Kinky™, he’s actually pretty vanilla. His favorite position is getting it from behind, and his second favorite position is missionary, and if he only did those two things for the rest of his life, he wouldn’t have a problem with it. He does, however, have kinks, and they are: authority and humiliation. This is kind of where the ‘very very’ comes from in ‘very very sexually submissive,’ ha. He likes feeling degraded, he likes being ordered around. Dirty talk is good, and preferably he’s being told about how bad he’s being and how he needs to be punished.

Caveat with this, which leads into my next point: he only really likes it if it’s with someone he loves. Because...

Section 7: Those kinks have fucked him up!

So part of me can’t help but think that the reason I see Loki with an authority kink is because of his daddy issues, haha. He pretty clearly has a deep need to please his father (not sexually, ew), and I think he then ends up being drawn to powerful authority figures. Thanos and the Grandmaster come to mind. I don’t head canon that anything sexual went on with Thanos (though I could be pretty easily persuaded to write some fucked up fic about it happening), but I absolutely head canon that stuff went on with the Grandmaster.

My head canon is that the Grandmaster was trying to get into Loki’s pants pretty much from the moment Loki showed up in front of him—constantly flirting, way too handsy, orgy invitations, parties with drugged drinks, the whole shebang. Loki was able to get away with not actually having sex with him, though, and always holding it out as a possibility in order to stay in the Grandmaster’s good graces. But when Thor and the Hulk fight in the arena, Loki offers sex in exchange for Thor’s life being spared (I have a fic about this, it’s called Lacuna). The sex is...not good for Loki. There’s definitely BDSM involved, and he is not into that. The Grandmaster rapes him. Repeatedly.

And...Loki is into humiliation and authority. So when he’s degraded and humiliated by the Grandmaster, and he gets off, he goes into this shame feedback loop. This is the kind of thing he likes, and if he likes it then there’s nothing wrong with what happened to him, and he put himself in the position anyway, and if he climaxed then it wasn’t assault, etc etc. He gets this way about non-sexual situations as well; like he definitely feels he deserved what he got with Thanos, and that he deserved to die on Svartalfheim because he feels responsible for Frigga’s death. He has this way of pushing blame off himself and never taking responsibility for his actions...until he does, and then he blames himself for everything.

Section 8: Yes I head canon Loki has a rich history of sexual assault

Oof, guys, Loki has been assaulted so many times in my head canon. His first experience was as an adolescent, where he almost gets gang-raped by two security guards. There were definitely other dubious to nonconsensual experiences in pre-Thor 1 times.

There are some traumatic times after his Fall:

He does some time at the Kiln, and he allows a prison guard to pretty much do whatever he wants to Loki. Loki uses this to escape.

Eventually, Loki ends up getting captured and sold into slavery. He ends up in a sex trafficking market, where he’s raped repeatedly, including gang-raped. He’s heavily drugged during this time to keep him from escaping but still has some memories of it. This is where the Black Order picks him up. They repeatedly remind him that they ‘saved’ him.

Then, of course, there’s the aforementioned stuff with the Grandmaster.

Section 9: Not that he'll ever call it that

Oh yeah but Loki will never in a million years call any of this ‘rape.’ In almost every assault, he’ll tell himself that he actually never said no, so actually, he was in control. He could have stopped it, but he just didn’t, because of Reasons. So it’s not rape. He had it under control. He did. Seriously. There’s no trauma.

He just tries not to think about the time in the sex trafficking market because he can’t really contort that into anything but what it was. If he has to think about it, usually he figures he deserved it.

I mentioned this in an ask recently, where I think one of Loki’s deepest fears is losing control. I think he really fears losing control over a situation, but his biggest fear is losing control over himself. In my hc, Loki really feels as though his grasp on his sense of self is tenuous at best; that he isn’t in control of his own mind (hello, Mind Stone, you didn’t help); that he might just do something that he didn’t plan or want to do. You know that feeling you get where you look at a window and think, What if I just jumped out? Loki really, really fears that feeling, because he’s not sure he can stop himself from actually following through. And stripping him of his bodily autonomy with sexual assault is just another way to fuck him up. Having him deny what it is because he’s so terrified of losing control adds a delicious layer of toxicity to the whole brew.

Section 10: But I still think he's capable of finding The One and having a great sex life and an unbreakable emotional bond

Having said that! Loki’s sexual trauma doesn’t actually hamper his ability to have sex. It does hamper his ability to fall in love, because falling in love is another form of losing control. I think that he could definitely get triggered by certain sexual things, but of course, I write him with Stephen, who is basically the kindest, most considerate lover ever, haha. I talked in another ask about how Loki’s humiliation and authority kinks, coupled with his lack of communication skills, lead him to expect Stephen to be a mindreader, and to just kind of...do the stuff that Loki wants him to do. But of course, Stephen isn’t going to do something that could actually cause Loki physical pain without being explicitly told to do so and receiving Loki’s enthusiastic consent. But Loki doesn’t want to communicate! Loki thinks it’s hot to just get ravaged.

My fic is about a lot of this stuff, not necessarily explicitly the sexual stuff, but a lot of the issues that are bound up with it—the control issues, the attraction to authority figures, the difficulty forming emotional bonds. Through the course of my main series, Loki is really picking away at getting better about all of this, and the endgame, of course, is that he’s able to accept being loved, and loving in return.

I feel like I didn’t articulate any of this as well as I wanted to, but I didn’t want to let this ask sit in my inbox forever, and I’ve been picking away at this now for like two weeks. So, I hope that was a satisfying essay! I could probably go on tbh, but I’ll leave it at this.

#loki head canon #loki sexuality #loki meta #loki #Anonymous

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habibialkaysani · 3 years

Text

The Old Guard (Laurel/Nyssa; M) - part i

Ships: Laurel/Nyssa

Summary: Laurel Lance and Nyssa Raatko are happily married - and have been for centuries. Along with Helena Bertinelli, this immortal army follows their equally immortal leader, Dina Drake, in the fights that they think are right.

But after one of their comrades makes a fatal lapse in judgement, Laurel and Nyssa find themselves trapped in their very worst nightmare - captured, as nothing more than lab rats. Luckily, the team has also just found its newest member, Sarah Diggle, so maybe all isn't lost.

A/N: Okay! So this one is something I've been working on a while. It was only meant to be 5k, but is now on 11k and still not done. So I will probably post in two or three parts.

You don't need to have watched The Old Guard for this to make sense - it follows the movie in terms of plot, but I'm hoping at least that the characters are still recognisable from Arrow.

Read at AO3

Laurel heard the knock on the door first, jumping to her feet. She had been curled around Nyssa on the couch, who was immersed in a novel she’d bought at the airport, but Nyssa quickly followed Laurel’s suit, putting the book down on the coffee table.

When Laurel opened the door, her face immediately split into a smile at the sight of Dina. “Hey, stranger.”

“Hey yourself,” Dina replied, going in for a hug, and then laughing as Laurel lifted her off her feet. Helena came in after Dina, closing the door behind them both.

“You look great, boss,” Laurel told her. “Love the hair.”

“Thanks! You, on the other hand, look okay,” Dina said with a grin.

“Gee, I love you too.”

Dina moved to Nyssa, who was waiting patiently for her hug, which was returned with gusto. Laurel smiled as Dina patted Nyssa’s cheek in greeting.

“You want some tea?”

“Make it Irish and I’m in,” Dina said, and Laurel shook her head fondly as Helena reached into her purse for her flask.

“On it.”

“While you both ruin your livers,” Laurel said, going to the mini-fridge, “I have something for you, boss.” She unearthed a small container from beside the fridge.

“Oh yeah? Please tell me it’s halwa.”

“Five hundred, Helena,” Laurel said, and Helena grinned.

“All in, I see.”

"Excellent," said Dina. "I'm starving."

“No, come on -” Nyssa said but it was half-hearted and she couldn’t suppress her smile even if she wanted to.

“Let’s settle this,” Laurel said firmly, handing Dina the container. Dina shook her head fondly as she sprawled on the armchair and uncovered a large square of Dina’s favourite sweet.

“All right.” Dina took a bite. “Mmmm. So good. Okay. Sesame seeds and tahini. Walnuts, not pistachios...” Helena let out a low whistle. Laurel refused to look defeated yet, though, and continued to pace. “Honey... okay, my guess? That Turkish place we went to in Rabat in - when was it? 2004?”

“Holy Mary, mother of God,” Laurel muttered under her breath, as Helena grabbed the money in front of her and waved them around Laurel’s face with glee.

“On the money, every time,” Helena said, and Laurel was still smiling, somehow, as she glanced at Nyssa, who hastily tried to cover her laugh with a cough.

“Next time, habibti,” Nyssa said, as Dina shook her head with faint exasperation.

“You say that every time,” Laurel complained.

Dina nudged Laurel playfully. “Don’t be such a baby, Laurel.”

“Admit it, boss,” Nyssa said, “you missed us.”

Dina didn’t hesitate. “I did.”

Silence fell as their fun and games came to an end, and as if to punctuate the point, Helena dropped a file on the coffee table. “It’s a job.”

“We don’t do repeats, Helena -”

“But we could do some good, Dina,” Nyssa interrupted, rather uncharacteristically. “Lord knows the world needs saving.”

“Why by us, though? Why should we feel like we owe this shithole of a planet anything?”

“Maybe,” Laurel said gently, “maybe we at least owe it to ourselves to hear Waller out.”

“Amanda Waller?” Dina asked, sitting up a little straighter, and Laurel was encouraged by that.

“Yeah. She’s ex-ARGUS now. Works freelance.”

“I don’t know,” Dina insisted. “I just - have a bad feeling about this. About what this could do to us.”

“I get that,” Laurel said, ever the conciliatory voice, “and that’s why Nyssa and I will have eyes and ears on you when you and Helena meet with her.”

It was clear from Dina’s sigh that she was relenting. “Fine.” Nyssa caught Laurel’s eye and they smiled, though stopping short of punching the air with victory - they weren’t quite there yet. “But only to hear her out. If anything goes sideways -”

“We’ll be there to back you up,” Laurel promised. “We got you, boss.”

“Always,” Nyssa added.

They set up the sniper rifle in the hotel room, Laurel watching from afar as Dina and Helena scoped out the market surrounding the cafe they would be meeting Waller at.

Behind her was Nyssa, listening carefully to the chatter of the market below.

"You have to admit," Nyssa said through the comms, "it's good to get back into the game."

"Not so fast, Nyssa," came Dina's voice, and Laurel adjusted her scope to better catch Dina's face. "We're hearing her out. That's what was agreed. Don't count your eggs and all that."

Helena laughed. "Chickens, boss. It's chickens."

"Chickens? I take it that means you would like to order the chicken shawarma?" Amanda Waller came into view, and it was strange for Laurel to see her in anything other than a sharp suit - Waller was dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, rendering her virtually unrecognisable.

"Just a coffee is fine, thanks," Dina said, extending her hand to Waller for a shake. "Dina."

"Amanda," Waller replied.

"I almost didn't recognise you there without your power suit, Amanda," Helena said, shaking her hand too and then taking her seat at the table.

"Got to blend in, I suppose," Waller said, speaking in a British accent.

"I thought you had to be American to join ARGUS," Dina said, and Waller laughed.

"Indeed. I was born in Star City. Then I went to live with my mother in Cornwall. Went back to Star City many years later and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Why'd you leave ARGUS?"

Wallet grimaced. "I needed some time off after my husband died."

Dina shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Waller said with a perfunctory nod, Laurel could see, but also with the air of not wanting to talk about it. Laurel didn't blame her.

"So how can we help you?"

Waller spoke at length about the mission she wished to send the immortals on - a school being held hostage in Azerbaijan, in dire need of rescue. Laurel watched Dina's expression and knew from her face that they would take the job. Once actual people were involved, especially kids, it was hard for their leader to turn it down.

"Given the… delicate political situation in Azerbaijan at present, our priority is getting the students out alive," Waller continued. "Money is no issue - Miss Bertinelli and I briefly discussed your going rates -"

Dina got up, rather abruptly. "We'll invoice you when it's done," she said.

"Good," said Waller, also getting to her feet when Helena followed suit. "Thank you for doing business with me."

Nodding briefly, Dina downed her cup of coffee in one, then gestured for Helena to follow her. Laurel watched through her scope, focusing again on Waller, who unexpectedly raised her hand to wave and smile, as if looking directly at Laurel.

Laurel huffed a laugh, shaking her head, then nudged Nyssa beside her to take a look. They shared a smile of mild exasperation but the warm kind.

"What do you think, habibti?" Laurel asked softly.

"I think we would be blaspheming if we did not use the blessing God gave us to do as much good as possible," Nyssa replied after a moment. Laurel felt the familiar tug of love in her heart at the woman at her side, so much so that she couldn't help but kiss her.

"Your heart," Laurel murmured, placing her palm against her wife's chest, "is so full of kindness. Overflowing, in fact. This world is unworthy of it."

"Get a room, you two," Dina said over the comms, at the same time as Helena saying, "You two make me want to vomit", and Nyssa and Laurel dissolved into laughter.

It was terrifying when everything went wrong.

To be surrounded by soldiers armed to the teeth, who not only shot them repeatedly but used the four immortal women before them as target practice - it was fitting, in a way, for Laurel to be on the ground, dead, when shit indeed went sideways.

They'd practiced this. They had had centuries to perfect playing dead, using the deadliest weapon of all in their immortality - pinpointing the precise moment their enemies’ grip on their weapons were relaxed.

Of course, there was no way to practise being reborn, no textbook that could predict the brutality of this death or the next, and so something always threw Laurel, no matter how ready she was for those bullets - especially when it came to Nyssa. As Laurel's eyes opened, the bullet lodged in her forehead being ejected from her skin as it knitted up, Laurel immediately sought out her wife, careful to suppress her sigh of relief when she saw Nyssa's eyes open too.

Slowly, the four of them took the time to get their bearings and get back on their feet, and the soldiers had no warning when swords and arrows were unleashed on them mercilessly. Dina unearthed her axe for good measure, grunting as she finished off the last of them. They all panted, Laurel with her sword still aloft, Nyssa's bow tensed, Helena's arm quivering as she pointed her crossbow at the feebly stirring soldier at her feet.

"Everyone still with me?" Dina said, looking around. Helena made a noise of assent.

"Na'am," Nyssa said after a moment.

"Laurel?"

"Yeah," Laurel said, dislodging a bullet from her jaw with her tongue. "Pissed as hell."

"I don't understand," Nyssa said. "Where are the students?"

"We've been set up, Nyssa," Dina said grimly. “There are no students.”

"Jesus," Laurel muttered under her breath. "You were right, boss."

They got a freighter train towards Armenia - there was a safe house they had there, though Dina wondered aloud if they were perhaps chasing their tails. She told her team to get some sleep, and Laurel, grateful they'd all been able to change their clothes but still unable to shake the stench of blood in her nostrils, fell into a fitful, troubled slumber as she wound her arm around her wife's waist.

She saw it in flashes - the girl, in army fatigues, the military weapon, and then the dagger, appearing from nowhere, slicing the girl's throat… her hands going up to try and stem the blood -

"Ya allah," Nyssa breathed, jolted awake at the same time as Laurel - and when Laurel looked around she found Dina and Helena in similar states of shock.

"Another one?" Laurel said.

"It can't be, not that quickly," Dina said, but Nyssa was already reaching for her notebook, sketching rapidly.

"She was a black woman," Helena said. "Military…"

"The dagger was definitely Pashtun and there was a woman near her in a chador," Nyssa added, continuing to sketch.

"Gotta be Afghanistan, right?" Laurel said. "And the dog tags - Dig? Digger? Or something?"

"Could you make out the company?"

"Echo 2-1," Dina said in a hollow voice. "Gods. Why is there another one? Why now?"

"I don't know, boss," Laurel said. "What do you think?"

"I think we should find Waller," Helena said. "We're wide out in the open here. One problem at a time."

Nyssa shook her head. "No," she said, "we need to find this girl. Whoever she is - if she's like us… she needs us." Nyssa appealed to Laurel, gazing at her. "You remember what it was like at the beginning, hayati. How scared we both were. Imagine what she's going through."

Helena shook her head. "We can't split our focus -"

"We don't have to," Dina said, appearing to make up her mind and getting to her feet. "I'll go and retrieve her. You all get to Armenia. Go to the Charlie safe house there. Work on tracking Waller."

"Are you sure, boss?" Helena asked.

"If we're dreaming of her, she's dreaming of us. And once they figure out what she is, she'll lead them to us, so that doesn't leave us a lot of time."

Dina held her hand out to Nyssa, and after adding the finishing touches, Nyssa tore out the page with the sketch and handed it to Dina.

"Christ, look at her. She's just a baby." Dina looked up at Helena. "Find Waller and keep on her ass, okay? I'll be in touch."

With that she stepped out of the train, landed only somewhat unceremoniously and then began to walk away.

Hours later, Laurel woke from another bout of fitful sleep, having been unable to get any rest on the train, to the smell of Nyssa’s cooking.

Sleepily, Laurel got to her feet, rubbing her eyes. Their safe house in Armenia was small, indescript, with just enough space for three single beds squeezed into the bedroom, and a couch and dining table in the living room, which doubled as a kitchen.

Helena was at work on her laptop, typing away furiously. Nyssa was rummaging in the bag of groceries Laurel had bought earlier, finding a jar of sauce to add to the pasta. She tried a couple times to open it, but some things were beyond her, and Laurel knew that as she smiled.

"You need me to open that for you, habibti?" Laurel asked quietly.

"You have impeccable timing, my love," Nyssa replied, holding out the jar for her, and she couldn't hold back her amusement when Laurel opened it within two seconds.

"It's all in the wrist," Laurel said.

"So you say." Nyssa turned back to the pan on the stove, pouring in the sauce. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just hope Dina finds this new one already. I hate the nightmares."

Nyssa started to stir, slowly, and Laurel could tell she was contemplating something.

"I know you feel these things more than any of us."

"I wish I knew why," Laurel said with a sigh. "But she's scared, Nyssa. And I feel it too." After a moment Laurel leaned forward, putting her arms around Nyssa's waist. She felt safer there, in the warm presence of her wife.

"It will be okay, Laurel," Nyssa said, leaning her forehead against Laurel's. "We will find the girl. And we will walk out of this shitstorm together like always."

"Thank you," Laurel whispered, dropping a kiss on Nyssa's cheek. "Do you need me to help with anything?"

"You could start on the washing up, if that's all right."

Laurel was already rolling up her sleeves, while Helena's phone began to ring. "Hello?" said Helena. She met Laurel's eyes and gave her a thumbs up. "Boss, I'm gonna put you on speaker, okay?"

"Hey, I got the new one," Dina said.

"What's she like?" Nyssa asked as she stirred.

There was a pause as if Dina was stifling a laugh. "Well, she stabbed me, so I say she has potential."

Helena chuckled. "Atta girl. I like her already."

"We're about to get on the plane. Should be with you in a few hours. Helena, any progress tracking down Waller?"

"No, sorry, boss. She's good. She has to be, as a security expert - knows how to cover her tracks."

"Everyone's got a weakness, Helena. I need you to find hers."

"Copy that."

"I'll see you all soon."

Sarah Diggle, as it happened, proved likable from the jump. She and Dina had arrived looking a little worse for wear, as if they'd had a tussle or two on the plane, and Laurel could tell from how jumpy she herself had been the past couple hours that she was feeling Sarah's adrenaline.

(She was so glad the whole empathy thing at least ended upon meeting.)

"Why are you all in my dreams?" Sarah asked once they sat down at the dinner table. Laurel was on her feet, heaping pasta onto plates and handing them out, starting with Sarah. "Thanks."

"We dream of each other - our deaths, the first ones, and what happens after - until we meet," Nyssa explained. "Then the dreams stop."

"Why?"

Nyssa smiled. "The why, Miss Diggle, is a question that will never be satisfactorily answered. It is one I ask most days - why us? Why immortality? Why did we dream of each other? Why are the rules the way they are?"

Sarah simply looked more perplexed by Nyssa’s words. "I think the best way to look at it," Laurel said as she handed a plate to Dina and then sat down, "is that it’s like - destiny."

"Some people are meant to find each other," Nyssa said, and Laurel smiled when she caught Nyssa's eye.

"So let me get this straight -"

The dinner table erupted with laughter and Sarah Diggle looked even more confused than she already was. "Kid," Dina said, taking a sip of her wine, "let me stop you right there. There's nothing straight going on here with any of us."

Laurel murmured in assent and then couldn't help but wink at Nyssa.

"Ameen to that," Nyssa agreed.

"Yeah, you'll just get a lot of nervous gay laughter if you ask any of us for a straight answer," Helena said.

Laurel watched as Nyssa turned to Sarah. "What she said. But our collective queerness aside, Ms Diggle, please do say what was on your mind."

Sarah smiled - it was tentative, accompanied with the nervous brushing away of her braids from her face, but it was there, Laurel could see that much. Their newest addition had had a frown creasing on her forehead the moment she had arrived, even in her young age, but with the laughter around her, some of that tension was relieved.

"Do we really never die?"

The smiles on the team's faces faded a bit.

"Nothing lives forever," Laurel said. "Even if it feels like we've been alive for eternity.”

Nyssa gestured at herself and then Laurel. “Laurel and I met in 1020."

It took a moment for that to sink in. "So you're saying you're both -"

Laurel grinned. "- over a thousand years old? Yes, but don't tell anyone."

"What about you?" Sarah asked Helena.

"Youngest recruit, from 1912."

"We call her the baby because she's only a century old," Nyssa said affectionately.

"You're the oldest," Sarah said, looking at Dina.

Dina grimaced. "Yep."

"How old are you?"

"Old," Dina replied.

" How old?"

"Too old," Laurel said, intervening after catching Dina's eye. "Let's just say there's a reason Dina's in charge around here."

Sarah nodded, seeming to accept this as an answer.

"So how do you know we do die?"

"Because one of us did," Dina said heavily. "His name was Thomas. I found him first. And one day we were in battle, fighting. And he got injured. Never got up. We don't know how or why, just that one day we stop healing and it's the end of the line. Our time to go."

There was silence for a moment. "It's a lot to take in," Nyssa said eventually.

"And I did tell you that you wouldn't like all the answers you got, kid," Dina said.

"You said we're immortal." The words came out of Sarah's mouth sounding almost accusatory. "You told me that. Just after shooting me in the head -"

"Sorry about that," Dina said, but the tension in the air was palpable. "But I knew I wouldn't hurt you. In the long run I mean."

"How? You just said that we all have an expiry date -"

"You're too new," Helena interrupted.

"Listen, Sarah," Laurel said. "Just because we're immortal doesn't mean we're invincible, or unstoppable. We're definitely not completely unkillable. Tommy is proof of that. And that's why -" Laurel paused for a moment, then reached out for Nyssa's hand to squeeze. "- that's why none of us take our lives for granted. Eventually our time will come, and that's an inevitability every human has to wrestle with."

"We just have to wait for longer is all," Nyssa added.

"So you are the good guys." At Laurel's raised eyebrows, Sarah explained, "I wasn't sure when I met Dina. If I was on the right side of things."

"I did shoot you, so I can't say I blame you there," Dina conceded.

"Goodness is subjective," Laurel said slowly. "It depends, I suppose, on the century, but - we fight for what we think is right."

"Even when the righteous battles land us in deep shit," Dina muttered, swigging from the bottle of wine now. Her words were quiet, but there was no doubting that everyone heard.

Nyssa got to her feet. "Sarah, you must be tired. Want me to show you where we all sleep?"

Sarah nodded, getting up and following Nyssa to the sleeping quarters.

"Listen, boss, I know you're pissed -" Laurel started to say, but Dina waved her away.

"I said what I had to say on this, Laurel. But the person I'm blaming is Waller, and whoever the fuck she's working with who set us up." Dina looked up, met Laurel's eyes. "I can't really blame Nyssa for having more of a heart than me."

Laurel smiled. "Like I said. Overflowing with kindness."

"Laurel, I love you, but enough with the sappy shit, please."

Still grinning, though, Laurel then glanced at Helena, who had been nursing the same drink for half an hour. "You okay, Helena?"

Helena nodded absently and picked at her food again with her fork, before she gave up trying to eat anymore and pushed her plate towards Laurel.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, not hungry. Eat it so Nyssa doesn't take it personally."

Laurel laughed a little more easily at that, digging in and finishing what was on the plate in front of her in a matter of seconds - after all, she loved her wife's cooking.

Later, Laurel was curling up around Nyssa, her arm wrapping around her wife's middle on the bed they shared. Laurel had her nose buried in the small of Nyssa's back, breathing in the familiar sweet smell of her beloved, listening to the sounds of her breathing which slowly lulled Laurel to sleep.

She wasn't sure how long that lasted, though, when the sound of a loud gasp woke Laurel up with a start.

"What is it?" Nyssa asked, the knife under her pillow already in her hand.

"You okay, kid?" Helena said sleepily, and from over Nyssa's shoulder Laurel could just make out Dina's silhouette in the doorway.

Sarah, who was now sitting bolt upright in her bed, clutched the comforter around her and seemed even smaller than before. "It's nothing. I'm sorry, guys. It was just a bad dream."

Nyssa put her knife down under her pillow, then propped herself up on her elbow. "It's okay. You can tell us."

At first Sarah was hesitant. "I dreamed of a woman in a coffin," she said slowly, and there was no mistaking Laurel and Dina's simultaneous sharp intakes of breath at her words. "She was screaming, trapped in this coffin underwater… and she would keep screaming until her lungs bled, pounding against the coffin until her knuckles wore away. And she would drown and then come back. Go through that whole thing over and over again… I saw flashes of it before I got here, but this was the clearest I've seen it so far." Sarah turned to Laurel. "She looked like you, a bit. But with shorter hair."

"Her name was Serena," Laurel said quietly. "She was my twin. And one of us."

"Your twin ?"

"We never knew each other as kids. Before me and Nyssa found each other, it was Dina and Serena. Dina had been lost after Tommy died. She'd given up hope until she met Serena."

"They fought thousands of battles alongside each other," Nyssa continued. "Fighting the good fight all over the world."

There was an audible sniff, and Laurel looked up to see Dina had gone to stand in front of the window near their beds, her head in her hands.

"What happened?" Sarah asked Dina.

"They were captured," Nyssa answered, when Dina didn't. "Captured freeing the so-called heretics being accused of witchcraft. They were hanged over and over for their crimes, but -"

"They kept coming back to life," Sarah guessed. Nyssa nodded. "Probably just proved their case that they were witches."

"That's exactly what happened," Laurel said. "And then… to separate them - they locked Serena in a coffin. The Iron Maiden. And they threw her into the ocean."

Sarah looked across the room at Dina. "Shit."

"We spent decades looking for her," Dina said at last. "Never found her."

"I feel her pain," Sarah told her. "Her rage. She feels insane."

"She's been trapped in a box for five hundred years," Helena said unexpectedly. "Just living for that long would drive you mad. Let alone dying over and over like that at the bottom of the ocean."

"That's why we work so hard to evade capture," Laurel explained. "A fate like my sister's… in many ways, it’s worse than death. I would not wish it on my worst and most bitter enemy. Nor would I wish the guilt that I feel to this day over what happened - because I should have been there to rescue her. And I wasn't."

"It's not your fault, Laurel," Dina said softly. "It's mine. You weren't there. I was."

"You blame yourself?" Sarah asked. "Why?"

"It would be bad enough if I just lost a soldier," Dina said quietly. "But she was my - my… partner, in every way imaginable. And I couldn't save her. I failed the love of my life and I think about that all the time. That is a nightmare I have to live through every day of my long life, and there is… nothing I can do to change that. Or end it."

Dina's eyes filled with tears, and the choking sound coming from the bed next to Laurel told her Sarah was crying too.

"So that's it? We're doomed to an eternity of this?"

"Sarah -" Laurel said, but Sarah was already getting to her feet.

"I need some air," she said shakily, grabbing her jacket.

"I'll talk to her," Laurel muttered immediately, but Dina held out her hand.

"No, it's okay, I will. You guys get some rest."

Before Laurel could object, Dina followed Sarah out the front door without another word.

"She'll come round," Nyssa said after a moment.

"Will she?" Helena said doubtfully. "I mean. She's not wrong. Being doomed to an eternity of life and death -"

"Who says you're doomed?" Laurel interrupted.

"If you're alone," Helena said quietly, "you're fucked. You'll outlive anyone you love and then who've you got?"

"You've got us, of course," Nyssa said without skipping a beat, and once again Laurel felt a surge of love for her. "You're never going to be alone if you have your family around you."

Helena looked suitably chastened. "Yeah, I know I do. But the kid is grieving her old life right now. You've both had a millennium to adjust - she's barely had five minutes."

Laurel opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but then at that moment a can fell into the open window of their bedroom. There was a hissing sound, as gas clouded the air and filled their lungs, and then all at once everything went black.

#laurel x nyssa #lauryssa #laurel lance #nyssa al ghul #femslashrevolution #lgbtsource #the old guard au #arrow #otp: in every universe #mine #my fic

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cosmiceverafter · 4 years

Text

The Pieces Want to Be Together

Pairing: Alex Manes/Michael Guerin

Characters in this chapter: Alex Manes; Michael Guerin; Gregory Manes; Isobel Evans; (mentions of Flint & the Scooby Squad).

Rating: T

Words in chapter: 2k

Read on ao3

Ch.1/Ch.2

**Content Warning for this chapter: mention & slight evidence of torture/abuse during a kidnapping; blood warning; minor violence; mention of death (no character deaths). None of these are graphic.**

Summary: Day 3: | REUNION | faith, loyalty, optimism, resilience.

A/N: A lot of what I wrote, is speculation for the episodes to come for the rest of this season. It also shows my hope that Gregory Manes is in fact a good guy and Flint Manes can be redeemed.

I hope you enjoy the last chapter of this fic for Missing Alex Manes Weekend! I really enjoyed writing something that was a bit different for me. But you should always know, with angst will always come to a happy ending full of hope. Thank you for reading!

To you Alex Manes: I love you very much.

Ch. 3: Fit Together with You

Alex flutters his eyes open, feeling a searing slash of pain from his head.

All he sees is darkness. He is unable to make out any features around him.

Where am I?

Trying to make sense of everything, he calculates strategically the surrounding area.

Why would someone want… him? Was he getting a bit too close to something? Did this have to do with the aliens of 1947? Did this have to do with Michael?

His hands are bound, but he tries to feel the ground. Cold hard pavement.

He will find a way out. He owes it to himself and the love he has for Michael.

Alex will not go without a fight.

***

Michael thought he understood fear after a lifetime of hopelessness. But fear was finally understood when Alex Manes was gone.

Alex had been kidnapped, and his brain had short-circuited any reason or patience.

When he had been searching location after location without a trace, that was when the fear settled in as well as the realization he couldn't lose Alex.

This human boy had taught him so much, not just what love truly meant, but learning about who he was and what he wanted from this life here on earth.

He fell in love early on with Alex in high school, staring constantly at the way Alex’s eyes fluttered when he got into his music. He was so talented and Michael admired him from a distance for so long.

But Alex had offered not only a safe haven to call his own, but his heart as well.

Michael for the first time in his life felt what having a family could feel like.

The two of them had made mistakes, more times than he could possibly count, but they kept coming back to one another in a way cosmic lovers would.

Alex was the shooting star in his night sky and together they made the constellation of peace, love, and hope.

It was the melody he had heard every single time Alex had played on his guitar. Quite honestly, it was the most moving moment of his life.

These were the thoughts that swirl in Michael’s mind as he searches all of Roswell. He would travel to heaven and hell to find one simple clue to Alex's well being.

After hours of nothing, he receives a phone call. It’s Gregory Manes.

***

Bright lights shine in his eyes, and Alex swallows, “Who are you?”

There is shuffling and Alex knows there are multiple people around him. He can’t make out faces but he can see figures standing around.

Finally, a deep unfamiliar voice says, “You’ll know in time. This is for the greater good.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We know who you are, Alex Manes, and who you associate with. That is, what you associate with. We will have answers.”

So this was about aliens.

Alex isn't clear on much of this situation, but one thing is crystal clear: He will protect Michael Guerin with his last dying breath.

***

Michael had always been right about Gregory Manes. He was the next best Manes after Alex.

The guy was good. He cared about his younger brother, more than even Michael had realized. He didn’t fit the mold that Jesse had once created for their last name.

Gregory had also found out Alex was missing when he had come to visit Roswell. He too had entered Alex’s house and went on his own search when he had seen the evidence of a struggle.

Apparently, he had inquired information from their other brother Flint, who wasn’t always the guy you’d want watching your back. But Michael also thought there was more to Flint than meets the eye.

After hours of figuring information out, they had all come to terms with the fact this wasn’t Jesse’s doing, much to all their surprise.

It was another puzzle Michael realized, that he didn’t know how to fit back together. Story of his life.

***

They ask questions; he doesn’t answer.

He’s hit, repeatedly; he’s had worse.

They press further; he doesn’t cry out.

Their frustration grows; he stands his ground.

They use fear and hate; he uses resilience and love.

***

Michael refuses to give up, he can't.

His phone rings and he looks down. It’s Isobel now.

“Iz?”

“It’s Alex.”

“I know...I’ve been searching for him with Greg,” Michael says as his eyes fill with tears. No use trying to stop them. “We can’t find him. Anywhere.”

He looks at Alex’s brother who is now driving his truck, and his brother looks as solemn as he feels.

“Michael, listen to me!” Isobel exclaims on the other side, “I know where Alex is!”

***

Alex’s whole body aches and he finally lets a moan escape his lips. He’s not sure how much more he can handle. He’s tough, but hell, he’s only human after all.

Whatever these things are...he's not entirely sure they are human. However, feeling delirious will do that to a person. He can no longer make sense of it all.

It’s been hours, and Michael never leaves his mind.

Michael is his anchor that keeps him tethered to his strength; it keeps him grounded and sane. He’s grateful even though his alien isn’t even there.

Truthfully though, Michael is always with him.

It all seems so trivial now; their arguments the inability to connect through the pain.

If only they both had foreseen this future, maybe they would have communicated what they had wanted so much sooner.

Being at rock bottom will do that to a person though. Your regrets, your mistakes, all of it, comes crashing into you like a current in the ocean.

These thoughts stay in Alex's mind. He realizes he probably won’t make it through the night. But at least he will go knowing he didn’t budge; he kept Michael’s identity and whereabouts hidden, as well as his pod siblings.

Some things are worth dying for.

As he allows himself to lean against the wall and close his swollen eyes, he hears a commotion outside the cold dark room he’s kept in.

There is yelling, a boom, and screaming.

He can’t make sense of it; he doesn’t have the energy to even try.

But that’s when he hears it, the most beautiful sound in the world.

Michael’s voice.

He found me, Alex realizes as he finally breaks. The tears run down his cheeks as he succumbs to darkness.

***

Isobel, that brilliant-not-by-blood-sister of his, was right! She had given them a location, something that she had seen when she had gone to Alex’s house.

Isobel had touched the floor where Alex had fallen, and that’s when she had a vision. The warehouse had been clearer than the light of day, and she explained it perfectly.

It was miles out of Roswell, but luckily, Michael knew exactly the one. He had driven past it many times over the years.

Gregory is by his side as they enter the location. Michael does not see who the people are that took Alex because their faces are covered, but that doesn’t stop him from throwing them against the walls. Hard.

Michael knows he's probably just given away his identity. He just doesn't care.

His anger is unmatched at this moment.

Gregory stops and looks at him with a look of shock, but Michael just shrugs and keeps on moving. There is no time to talk about the “what are you and where did you come from?” speech.

Unfortunately, whoever they are, escape quickly, but his number one mission and priority is to find Alex.

They will be dealt with later, that much is certain. A vow of his for the mere fact that they ever thought they could touch Alex Manes.

Gregory yells at him to come over and he sees a locked door against the metal wall. Gregory gives Michael the look with a bit of hesitation.

Michael opens it easily with his powers and scopes out the room quickly.

Alex.

His stomach falls as he sees Alex crumpled in the corner of the small room. Michael almost collapses, but Gregory steadies him.

Alex’s brother rushes over to his younger brother’s side, clearly checking for a pulse.

Michael has never felt this before. Before when trying to find Alex, he was on a mission. But this… this is different. If Alex is not okay, Michael will not make it. He knows this to be true. They are too connected and intertwined.

He won’t survive that type of pain.

So he’s stuck. Unmoving. He literally cannot breathe.

“He has a pulse,” Gregory calls out, which adds faith and hope back into Michael’s life. “It’s weak though. We have to get him to a doctor.”

“Valenti,” Michael replies, still scared to see Alex and the damage they caused the love of his life. “Kyle Valenti. He’ll help.”

“Here,” Gregory exclaims as he rushes over, “let me talk to him.” Michael punches in the number for the good Doctor and gives his phone to Greg. The guy looks over at Alex, and his eyes are full of sadness, “Go be with him. He needs you, Michael.”

Gregory leaves the room for a moment and Michael can hear him talking to Kyle.

Slowly, as if in a dream...a nightmare, Michael walks over to Alex.

He bends down and starts to cry instantly as he takes in Alex. All the emotions he has felt searching for Alex and the horrific outcome of this reality is too much.

The bruises are all over Alex. He’s swollen and bloody. Not Alex. God, no. Not to Alex….

Michael lifts Alex’s hand up gently and sees damage there as well. “I’m so sorry, Alex.” He cannot stop crying. The heavy sobs leave his body as he trembles uncontrollably. Michael realizes he’s not just crying because of what happened to Alex, he’s sorry for the way he has treated Alex over the last few months. He took Alex for granted and now here his love is, broken and in pieces right before him. “I’m so damn sorry.”

He bends down and kisses Alex’s battered forehead. That’s when Alex moans. He squeezes Alex’s hand softly, “Alex! Alex, I’m here. I’m here. I won’t leave...I’ll never leave you again.”

Alex squeezes his hand back.

***

It takes Alex a while to heal, but luckily with the help of Kyle, Michael, and his friends, he makes progress every single day.

It's both mental and physical healing he needs and that in itself, takes time.

The group continues digging deeper to try to figure out who took him. It’s nice to see everyone working together for a change. He’s wanted that for some time. Maybe that was the good of being taken after all; they stopped taking each other for granted.

As far as Michael, he never leaves his side. That gesture doesn’t annoy him though, if anything, it’s beyond comforting and welcoming.

Neither of them is walking away. They prove that more and more each day.

Michael is generous and gives him space and time, not expecting anything. It means so much to him.

But he does give Alex several hugs a day; clinging on to him tightly as if to make sure Alex is real. Alex gets his strength from Michael every time.

They finally have their breakfast and open up about it all, even the parts that hurt. But that was the point of healing, true healing. In doing that, they break the barriers of their cycle once created.

Their talk wasn't a one-time thing either; they talk for weeks and weeks, sometimes going late into the nights. The nights where they make each other laugh, are Alex's favorite. He realizes that even though during their time apart when they weren't together, they had been building that friendship all along.

Sometimes during these chats, he catches Michael just staring at him, and he can’t help but smile. Their love has only grown. Deeper than even he could have imagined it would.

One sunny morning, he decides to finish the song he has been working on. Alex is staying at the cabin that Jim left him. It offers peace and solace, especially if Michael is there. Which he is, always.

Alex smiles as he pulls his guitar out of the black case. It's funny how an object can cause so much joy. The gift of music was just that, a gift.

As he holds the guitar in his hands for the first time in a while, he closes his eyes from the comfort it brings. His fingers sometimes still ache, but he plays anyway.

He plays the trauma he grew up with, the pain, and the sorrow, but also the resilience and the strength to rise from the ashes. He adds the hope, faith, and love that Michael has brought into his life. The joy of friendship and unity as he sees his friends smiling back at him. And most importantly, he plays the love he feels for himself and the growth he has made, with a nod of gratitude in Forrest’s direction.

It is the melody of his life. The melody that makes him...Alex.

“That was so beautiful,” he hears softly behind him as he finishes.

Alex looks over to see Michael beautifully leaning against the doorframe holding two cups of coffee, his curls tousled from sleep.

“I hope I didn’t wake you, I know it’s early.”

Michael shakes his head, “Nah, it's the best alarm clock there is actually.” He walks over barefoot on the wooden porch and hands Alex a mug.

He sits down and looks at Alex with a genuine loving smile, “Truthfully though. It might’ve been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard you play.”

“Thanks,” Alex replies with a smile of his own. “I’ve been working on it for…well, a very long time now.”

“Is it finished?” Michael asks. Alex looks deeper into those hazel eyes. Not for the first time around the guy, hope fills him up like a balloon. “I think it’s just the beginning of a very special story actually.”

Michael nods and takes Alex’s hand softly. “I hope to hear each chapter of that story then.”

Alex moves Michael’s healed hand to his lips and kisses it gently, “You are and will always be a huge part of this story, Michael. The story is a part of us.”

“You always have a way with words, Alex Manes.”

The words he has wanted to say every day are right there. They are the only words that truly matter when it comes to the alien sitting next to him, “Speaking of words, there are a few more important ones I need to say to you.”

Michael smiles once more as he leans in closer to Alex, “Please, tell me.”

Alex takes in this moment, never looking back, “I love you, too.”

Tears fill both of their eyes as they come together as those two pieces of their puzzle, finally fitting together as one as they kiss.

The missing piece was there all along.

Hope was the melody that would always bring their love home.

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